Excavation

Sam could barely contain his excitement as he waited for his computer to connect to the university’s internet site via the satellite hookup. He sat in the communication tent with the other students gathered around behind him. The tent was weathertight and insulated against the elements, protecting the delicate equipment from the eternal mists of the jungle heights.

Sam checked his watch for the hundredth time. Two minutes shy of ten o’clock, the time each evening when Sam or Philip updated the professor on their progress on the dig. That night, though, was the first time the team had exciting news for his uncle. Sam jabbed hurriedly at the keys as the connection was made. He initiated the video feed. The small camera fixed to the top of the monitor blinked on its red eye. The video satellite link had been a gift from the National Geographic Society. “Smile everyone,” Sam muttered as he finished calling up his uncle’s internet address.

The computer whirred through its connections and a small flittering picture of Henry appeared in the upper right hand corner. Sam tapped a few keys and the picture filled the entire screen. The video feed was jittery. When his uncle waved a hand in greeting, his fingers stuttered across his face.

Sam pulled the microphone closer. “Hi, Doc.”

His uncle smiled. “I see everyone is with you tonight. You must have something for me.”

Sam’s face ached from the wide grin still plastered to his lips, but he wasn’t going to give up the team’s prize that easily. “First give us the lowdown about the mummy. You said yesterday that the CT was scheduled for this morning. How’d it go?” Sam regretted his question as soon as he saw his uncle’s face cloud over. Even from three thousand miles away, Sam could tell the old man didn’t have good news. Sam’s smile faded away. “What happened?” he asked more soberly.

Henry shook his head, again it was a jittering movement, but the words flowed smoothly through the receiver. “We were correct in judging the mummy as non-Inca,” he began, “but unfortunately, it was European.”

“What?” Sam’s shock was shared by the others.

Henry held up a wavering hand. “As near as I can tell, he was a Dominican priest, probably a friar.”

Maggie leaned toward the microphone. “And the Incas mummified one of their hated enemies-a priest of a foreign god?”

“I know. Strange. I plan to do a little research here and see if I can trace this friar’s history before returning. It’s not what I wanted to prove, but it is still intriguing.”

“Especially in the light of our discovery here,” Sam added.

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

Sam explained about their discovery of the sealed door and the Latin inscriptions.

Henry was nodding by the end of Sam’s description. “So the conquistadors truly did find the village. Damn.” Henry slowly took off his glasses and rubbed at the small indentations on his nose. His next words seemed more like he was thinking aloud. “But what happened here five hundred years ago? The answer must lie behind that door.”

Sam could almost hear the gears whirring in his uncle’s mind.

Philip grabbed the mike. “Should we open the door tomorrow?”

Sam interrupted before his uncle could answer. “Of course not. I think we should wait until Doc returns. If it’s a significant find, I think we’d need his expertise and experience to explore it.”

Philip’s face grew red. “I can handle anything we discover.”

“You couldn’t even handle-”

Henry interrupted, his voice stern and tight. “Mr. Sykes is right, Sam. Open the door tomorrow. Whatever lies hidden beyond the sealed portal may aid my research here in the States.” His uncle’s eyes traveled over the entire group. “And it is not just Philip I trust. I am counting on all of you to proceed as I’ve taught you-cautiously and meticulously.”

Even with these last words, Sam noticed the gloating expression on Philip’s face. The Harvard grad would be unbearable from there on out. Sam’s fingers gripped the table’s edge with anger. But he dare not question his uncle. It would sound so petty.

“Sam,” his uncle continued, “I’d like a few words in private.” Henry’s words were severe and scolding in tone. “The rest of you should hit your pillows. You’ve a long day tomorrow.”

Muttering arose from the others as they said their good-byes and shuffled off.

Henry’s voice followed them from the tent. “And good work, folks!”

Sam watched the others leave. Philip was last to slip out of the tent, but not before shining a tight smile of triumph on his lips. Sam’s right hand balled into a fist.

“Sam,” his uncle said softly, “are they all gone?”

Forcing his hand to relax, Sam faced his uncle again. “Yeah, Uncle Hank,” he said, dropping to a more familiar demeanor.

“I know Philip can rankle everyone. But he is also a smart kid. If Philip can grow to be half the archaeologist his father was, he’ll be a fine scholar. So cut him some slack.”

“If you say so…”