Excavation

“I do.” Henry slid his chair closer to the computer. His shaky image grew on the screen. “Now as to the reason I wanted to speak to you in private. Though I voiced my support of Philip, I need you to be my eyes and ears tomorrow. You’ve had a lot more dig experience, and I’m counting on you to help guide Philip.”

Sam could not suppress a groan. “Uncle Hank, he’ll never listen. He already thinks he’s the big buck at the salt lick.”

“Find a way, Sam.” Henry replaced his eyeglasses, ending the matter. He stared silently at Sam as if weighing him. “If you are to be my eyes and ears, you’ll need to know everything I know, Sam. There are some items I’ve kept from the others. To properly evaluate what you discover tomorrow, you’ll need to be fully informed.”

Sam sat straighter. His irritation at Philip vanished in a single heartbeat. “What?”

“Two items. First, something odd happened to the mummy here at Johns Hopkins.” Henry explained about the explosion of the mummy’s skull and the brilliant golden discharge.

Sam’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “Christ, Uncle Hank, what the hell happened?”

“The pathologist here hypothesized a possible burst of trapped methane from sudden thawing. But after four decades in the field, I’ve never seen its like before. And that discharge…Dr. Engel is researching what it is. I may know more in a few days, but until then, I want you to keep your eyes open. The mystery as to what occurred in this village five centuries ago may be answered when you open that door.”

“I’ll watch out for any clues and proceed with care, even if I have to force an iron bit and reins on Philip.”

His uncle laughed. “But remember, Sam, experienced riders know it’s best to control a willful horse with only the lightest touch on the reins. Let Philip think he is leader and all will go well.”

Sam frowned. “Still…why the secrecy, Uncle Hank?”

Henry sighed, a slight shake of his head. He suddenly seemed much older, his eyes tired. “In the world of research, secrets are important.” Henry glanced up at Sam. “Remember the looters. Even in the remote wilds of the Andes, a few loose lips drew the scavengers like flies to horse droppings. The same can occur in the research community. Loose lips can sink grants, fellowships, and tenures. It’s a hard lesson I don’t like teaching.”

“You can trust me.”

Henry smiled. “I know, Sam. I trust you completely. I would have been glad to share all I know with you, but I didn’t want to burden you with secrets. Not yet. You’ll find how it weighs on your heart when you can’t speak openly with your own colleagues. But matters now force me to shift my burden onto your shoulders. You must know the last piece of the puzzle, the reason I am sure an older tribe built this city.” Henry leaned closer to the screen. “I believe I may even know who it was.”

“What are you talking about? Who? This site has the Incas’ stamp all over it.”

His uncle held up a hand. “I know. I never disputed that the Incas eventually took over this site. But who was here before them? I’ve read tales, recorded oral histories spread from ancestor to ancestor, of how the first Incan king went to the sacred mountains and discovered a bride in a wondrous city. Returning with her, he started the Incan empire that would last hundreds of years. So even in their ancient tales, the Incas admit that a foreign tribe shared their roots. But who? It’s the mystery I’ve been investigating for decades. My research into this matter led to the discovery of these ruins. But the answer to the question-who built this city? — that I only discovered last month.”

Speechless, Sam’s mind spun at the prospect of how much his uncle had kept hidden. “Y…you truly know who built this city?”

“Let me show you.” Henry reached to his own keyboard and mouse and began manipulating files. “I wish I could claim it was a brilliant piece of research on my part, but in actuality it was one of those fortuitous events that always seem to push archaeology forward.”

His uncle’s image shrank to the corner of the screen and a three-dimensional schematic of the current dig appeared. Colored lines marked off the various levels of the dig. The detail of the computer-generated landscape and surmounting ruins amazed Sam. Using the mouse, Henry manipulated the pointer, and the screen zoomed into an aerial close-up of the ruins atop the Sun Plaza. A small black square marked the entrance tunnel to the ruins below.

“Here is our site. The tunnel into the underground structure.”

“I know,” Sam said, “but what does this have to do with-?”

“Patience, my boy.” Henry cracked a wry smile from the corner of the screen. “Last month, a bit of luck occurred-I received a CD-ROM from a fellow researcher from Washington University in St. Louis. It contained computer-generated maps of several Moche pyramids currently under excavation at Pampa Grande along the coast. Six hundred miles away.”