Page 29
“Good,” said Caine. “I’ll talk to my dean and let you know. When can you leave for Guatemala?”
“Tomorrow,” said Sam. “We’d like to get there, verify the site, and get back here.”
“If you do, then maybe we can begin to organize a large team to find one of the big cities on the map this summer. I’d like you to consider joining that team. There’s nobody I’d rather have with me.”
“We’ll consider it,” said Remi, “after we finish our scouting mission.”
Sam and Remi spent the rest of the day preparing for their trip to Guatemala. They packed, arranged to have the proper scuba gear and wet suits waiting for them, and planned each step of the journey. In the midst of their preparations, Selma came in. “I’ve got the licenses you asked for.”
“What licenses?” asked Remi.
“For carrying concealed firearms in Guatemala. These are copies, but the originals will be waiting at your hotel in Guatemala City. It’s concealed carry only, by the way. Wearing a gun openly is frowned upon. I guess after their civil war, it’s intimidating.”
“Thanks, Selma,” said Remi.
“I’ve also transferred GPS maps of the Alta Verapaz region of Guatemala to your satellite phones. You should memorize the coordinates of the site because I didn’t want to program that in. I did include the numbers of the U.S. Embassy and consulate in Guatemala City and the local police. There has been a lot of crime in the area recently and sometimes Americans look like good people to kidnap for ransom.”
“We’ll be careful,” said Remi.
“Please do. Don’t take offense, but you two even look rich. I’m glad to see you’re packing the clothes you wore doing relief work in Mexico. Keep your equipment invisible.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” said Sam.
“One more thing,” Selma said. “Dave Caine says the university has assigned him a good place to work on the codex. There’s a real, full-scale safe in the library’s archival department and a spare room beside it, where he can work. When he’s done each day, he can lock the codex in the safe again.”
“That should do fine,” Sam said.
Remi said, “Now it’s our turn to tell you to be careful.”
“That’s right,” said Sam. “If either of you is watched or followed, don’t go to the university. Drive to the police station.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Have a successful trip. Call frequently, and come back soon. I promise, Zoltán will think he’s on vacation.”
In twelve hours, Sam and Remi were on a flight heading toward Guatemala City.
GUATEMALA CITY
Sam and Remi disembarked in Guatemala City and went through customs. They were about to leave the airline terminal when Remi’s satellite phone rang. She answered, and said, “Hi, Selma. You must have tracked our plane.”
“Of course. We’ve found something amazing and I thought you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Do you remember a sort of lump inside the cover of the codex?”
“I do,” Remi said. “It’s sort of a rectangle shape. I figured it was a patch.”
“It’s a sheet of parchment, folded, and then placed under the outer layer and covered with the fig-bark fabric. David and I removed it two hours ago. It’s a letter, written in black ink, in Spanish. It says, ‘To all of my countrymen, blessings. This book and other books of the Mayan people concern their history and their observations about the natural world. They have nothing to do with the devil. They must be preserved as a way to understand our charges, the Mayan people.’”
“Who’s it from?” asked Remi.
“That’s the surprise. It’s signed ‘Fra Bartolomé de Las Casas, Prior of Rabinal, Alta Verapaz.’”
“Las Casas? The Las Casas?”
“Yes—the man who convinced the Pope that Indians were rational beings with souls and had rights. He practically invented the idea of human rights. Dave Caine is beside himself with excitement.”
“Does the paper have a date on it?”
“Tomorrow,” said Sam. “We’d like to get there, verify the site, and get back here.”
“If you do, then maybe we can begin to organize a large team to find one of the big cities on the map this summer. I’d like you to consider joining that team. There’s nobody I’d rather have with me.”
“We’ll consider it,” said Remi, “after we finish our scouting mission.”
Sam and Remi spent the rest of the day preparing for their trip to Guatemala. They packed, arranged to have the proper scuba gear and wet suits waiting for them, and planned each step of the journey. In the midst of their preparations, Selma came in. “I’ve got the licenses you asked for.”
“What licenses?” asked Remi.
“For carrying concealed firearms in Guatemala. These are copies, but the originals will be waiting at your hotel in Guatemala City. It’s concealed carry only, by the way. Wearing a gun openly is frowned upon. I guess after their civil war, it’s intimidating.”
“Thanks, Selma,” said Remi.
“I’ve also transferred GPS maps of the Alta Verapaz region of Guatemala to your satellite phones. You should memorize the coordinates of the site because I didn’t want to program that in. I did include the numbers of the U.S. Embassy and consulate in Guatemala City and the local police. There has been a lot of crime in the area recently and sometimes Americans look like good people to kidnap for ransom.”
“We’ll be careful,” said Remi.
“Please do. Don’t take offense, but you two even look rich. I’m glad to see you’re packing the clothes you wore doing relief work in Mexico. Keep your equipment invisible.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” said Sam.
“One more thing,” Selma said. “Dave Caine says the university has assigned him a good place to work on the codex. There’s a real, full-scale safe in the library’s archival department and a spare room beside it, where he can work. When he’s done each day, he can lock the codex in the safe again.”
“That should do fine,” Sam said.
Remi said, “Now it’s our turn to tell you to be careful.”
“That’s right,” said Sam. “If either of you is watched or followed, don’t go to the university. Drive to the police station.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Have a successful trip. Call frequently, and come back soon. I promise, Zoltán will think he’s on vacation.”
In twelve hours, Sam and Remi were on a flight heading toward Guatemala City.
GUATEMALA CITY
Sam and Remi disembarked in Guatemala City and went through customs. They were about to leave the airline terminal when Remi’s satellite phone rang. She answered, and said, “Hi, Selma. You must have tracked our plane.”
“Of course. We’ve found something amazing and I thought you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Do you remember a sort of lump inside the cover of the codex?”
“I do,” Remi said. “It’s sort of a rectangle shape. I figured it was a patch.”
“It’s a sheet of parchment, folded, and then placed under the outer layer and covered with the fig-bark fabric. David and I removed it two hours ago. It’s a letter, written in black ink, in Spanish. It says, ‘To all of my countrymen, blessings. This book and other books of the Mayan people concern their history and their observations about the natural world. They have nothing to do with the devil. They must be preserved as a way to understand our charges, the Mayan people.’”
“Who’s it from?” asked Remi.
“That’s the surprise. It’s signed ‘Fra Bartolomé de Las Casas, Prior of Rabinal, Alta Verapaz.’”
“Las Casas? The Las Casas?”
“Yes—the man who convinced the Pope that Indians were rational beings with souls and had rights. He practically invented the idea of human rights. Dave Caine is beside himself with excitement.”
“Does the paper have a date on it?”
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