Cibola

Chapter 2

Man, I cannot believe you’re kicking us out,” Matt Barnaby, Dane’s engineer and first mate for this expedition while his partner Bones was on vacation, complained as he swung his leg over the side of their boat, the Sea Foam. “And for a girl of all things.” He shook his head, turned, and hopped into the waiting motorboat. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, it’s not that unbelievable,” Dane protested. Actually, it was. Since the death of his wife and unborn son nearly five years ago he had sworn off women. Recent experiences had changed his outlook, and he was beginning to come to grips with some of his inner demons. “I like girls.”

“I thought you liked Kaylin.” Corey Dean, the ship’s tech-head and sonar guru stumbled out of the cabin, trying to slather on sunscreen and spray himself with insect repellant at the same time. His fair skin was no match for the intense sun, but he loved the sea. “I didn’t know you were playing the field all of a sudden.”

“Kaylin’s my friend.” Kaylin Maxwell was the daughter of Dane’s former commander. The two of them had been through a harrowing adventure together, and come out of it barely alive. The experience had forged a strong bond between them, but sometimes it felt more like brother and sister than anything romantic. Perhaps it was because she was the first woman since Melissa to get close to him. “And she isn’t your problem in any case.”

“So you won’t mind if I ask her out,” Matt said, “seeing how you’re just friends and all.” He smiled a gap-toothed smile, and ran his fingers through his close-cropped receding brown hair, pretending to primp in front of a mirror.

“She’s from a Navy family. She’d sooner date a pig than an army grunt,” Dane jibed.

“See there, Corey? You’ve got a shot after all!” Matt helped Corey over the side and into the small craft.

“You know what really blows?” Corey replied, ignoring Matt’s dig. “Bones goes on vacation, and now Dane turns into the player. I thought we were going to get a temporary break from the college dorm room shenanigans.”

Uriah Bonebrake, nicknamed “Bones”, was Dane’s partner and a longtime companion. They had been best friends since their days in the Navy SEALs. The big Cherokee had a way with the ladies, and was known to kick his crewmates off the boat for an occasional evening of entertaining.

“That’s right,” Dane called back, warming to the banter. “I’m picking up the slack for Bones. Bet you I…”

“You what?” Jade sat astride a jet ski just off the starboard bow. Dane had been so busy bantering with his friends that he had not heard her approach. Her brown eyes sparkled, and her straight white teeth shone against her almond complexion. She was wearing a loose fitting white tank top over a turquoise bikini top. Her black shorts were rolled at the waistband, showing off her flat stomach and a few extra inches of her firm thighs. “Come on now, I’m dying to hear.”

“Epic fail!” Corey laughed and fired up the motorboat. “Good luck climbing out of that hole, Maddock.” He and Matt made mock salutes as they cruised away.

“Bet you,” Dane said, turning back to Jade, “that you absolutely love the dinner I’ve prepared for us.” Leaning over the rail, he offered her a hand, which she clasped firmly. He hauled her over with one tug, and she landed nimbly on the deck, her bare feet making barely a sound when they hit. Martial arts training, he supposed, or perhaps dancing. “By the way, totally unfair shutting down the engine and drifting up on me like that.”

“I’m full of surprises.” She gave him a coy grin. “If dinner’s good enough, I might let you take it for a spin around the harbor.” She surveyed the Sea Foam with an appraising eye. “Nice,” she said. “She’s obviously been worked hard, but I can tell you take good care of her.”

“Done much sailing?” he asked, intrigued by this beautiful young woman who seemed to have a great deal of depth. “I suppose if you’ve done enough diving, you have to have climbed your share of rigging.”

“Is that some sort of innuendo?” she teased. He shook his head and she laughed. “I grew up around the water in Hawaii. My uncle had a fishing boat, and I spent a lot of time out with him. My mother hated it, said it wasn’t ladylike, but I didn’t care. Even then I loved the sun, the salt spray, the dips and the swells.” Her eyes had a faraway glint as she remembered. “I don’t get out on the water as much as I used to. Mostly when I go back to visit my mother and uncle.”

“What about your father?” Dane asked. He could tell by the way she flinched that he had touched on a sore subject. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“That’s all right,” she said. “He left before I was born. Went back to Japan. He wasn’t really part of my life.” She stared down into the blue-green water, her face now downcast. “I did all right, I suppose. What about you? What’s your story?”

“Navy brat,” Dane said. “Did my time in the service, met my friend Bones, and we went into business together when we left the SEALs.” He shrugged. “It’s a good life. Lots of sun. The occasional interesting diversion,” he gave her a meaningful look and grinned.

“I think you skipped over quite a bit in that lovely ten-second autobiography.” She narrowed her eyes and stepped close to him. “But that’s okay. I have all night to pump information from you.” Raising her head, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “What’s on the grill?”

Dinner was one of Dane’s specialties: broiled sea bass with lime and herbs, steamed vegetables and fresh fruit. Jade was duly impressed, and dinner conversation was relaxed and enjoyable. An archaeologist by trade, she had graduated from the University of Utah with a specialty in Native American tribes of the southwest, and now served on the faculty of Central Utah University.

“So,” Dane said, squeezing a lime into his second Dos Equis, “what is someone with your background doing working an early Spanish dig in Argentina? Seems pretty far out of your area.” He took a long drink, savoring the strong flavor, the cool drink perfect on such a muggy evening.

“It’s not as far afield as you might think,” she said. “The Spaniards who founded this settlement were some of the same men who explored the American southwest, even up into Utah.” She put her bottle down and folded her hands in her lap, suddenly serious. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“Bummer,” Dane said. “And here I hoped it would be a proposition of a more personal nature.” He smiled, put his beer down, and leaned forward, mirroring her posture. It was a technique by which Bones swore. He said it created empathy and identification. Then again, when had Bones ever cared about either of those things? Dane suppressed a laugh and leaned back, letting his arms hang over the sides of the chair.

“Very funny,” she said, misunderstanding the reason behind the grin on his face. “Personal comes after I’ve known someone a great deal longer than one evening. Or did you think I was, shall we say, promiscuous?”

“Didn’t think, only hoped.” That was a comeback worthy of Bones, but it didn’t gain him any points. Jade just smirked. Bones had a natural way with women, while Dane had to work hard at it. It wasn’t fair. “Seriously, what’s your proposition?”

“I need to have another go at that underground stream.” She raised her voice and hurried on when she saw Dane grimace. “I think it will take only one more time. I need to go back to the place where you rescued me.” She paused, her brown eyes boring into him. “And I need a dive partner.”

“I hate fresh water dives,” Dane protested. “They’re dangerous, as you found out today, and they’re not something I’m comfortable doing.” Jade kept staring at him in silence. He knew what she was up to, waiting for him to fill the gap in the conversation. She would try to keep him talking until he talked his way through all his objections and right smack into doing what she wanted. Not biting, he retrieved his beer and took another swig.

“I don’t blame you. I know it’s dangerous work, which is why I need an experienced diver with me.” Her voice softened. “This is very important to me. I’ve been working on it for ten years. It’s not…” She broke off, uttered a distinctly unladylike curse, then mumbled something that sounded a lot like “Why do I get so flustered around you?” before turning her attention to her beer.

He made her feel flustered? He swore he would never understand women. The look of disappointment on her face was heartbreaking. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on?” he said.

“If I tell you, will you dive with me?” She cocked an eye at him.

“No,” he lied, knowing full well that he was going to let her have her way because… well, just because that’s what was going to happen. “But I’ll think about it. Tell me what you’re doing here.”

Jade leaned across the small table, close enough that he could smell her perfume. Jasmine or something like it. “Are you familiar with the story of the Seven Cities of Cibola?”

“I’ve heard the name,” he replied cautiously. “That’s about it.” A creepy déjà vu feeling blanketed his mind, enveloping him in a muzzy semi-conscious state. He couldn’t possibly be getting into another weird mystery.

“Part of the impetus behind Spanish exploration of New Spain, what we could term Colonial Mexico, was the myriad of myths about treasure and magical places.” As she spoke, she sat up straighter and her voice gained strength and confidence. She would make a great lecturer. “One of the greatest was the legend of Las Siete Ciudades Doradas De Cíbola, the Seven Golden Cities of Cibola. The myth was an outgrowth of the Moorish conquest of Portugal in the early eighth century. Allegedly, in the year 714, seven Catholic bishops and their followers fled across the Atlantic to a land called Antilia.”

“The Antilles,” he chimed in, to show that he was paying attention.

“Correct. The story goes that they fled to the New World and established the seven cities, where they hid gold, gems and religious articles to keep them safe from the Moors.”

At the mention of religious articles, Dane bolted upright. “Oh no. No friggin’ way!” He struck the table with his fist so hard that both their beers tipped over. Jade managed to catch hers, but his hit the table, spewing its foamy contents everywhere.

“Nice,” Jade deadpanned. “Are you always this erratic? What did I say, anyway?” Her smooth features were tense with concern.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I just had a bad experience recently and…” What could he tell her that she would actually believe? “It’s not important.” Before she could reply he hurried to the galley to retrieve some paper towels. Returning, he sopped up the mess as Jade looked on with an expression somewhere between amused and offended.

When the spill was cleaned up, she nodded like an officer at inspection time, and inclined her head toward the bow. “How about we move back there and watch the sun set?” Dane liked that idea just fine, but was disappointed when, once they were seated, she resumed her story.

“The Antillean islands failed to produce the great quantities of gold and silver the Spaniards were expecting, so they set their sights on the continent and its purported riches. As soon as Cortes and his men finished conquering the Aztec Empire in the early 1520s, they set out to find these legendary Seven Cities of Gold. The expedition took them as far as the Texas panhandle, but needless to say, they found no sign of Cibola.

“And then, in 1528 a Spaniard named Cabeza de Vaca was shipwrecked on the Texas Gulf Coast. He wandered through Texas and into northern Mexico before his rescue in 1536. He told of fantastic treasures he had seen in villages to the north, “with many people and very big houses.” And thus, what is now New Mexico became targeted as the mythical Cibola.

“Viceroy Antonio de Mendoza soon became intrigued by the fantastic riches rumored to exist in the Seven Golden Cities of Cibola beyond New Spain’s northern frontier. In 1539 he sent an expedition led by Estevanico, a black slave who had been shipwrecked with Cabeza de Vaca, and Fray Marcos de Niza to verify de Vaca’s reports. Estevanico did not return. It is reported that he died in western New Mexico at Háwikuh, one of the Zuñi pueblos.”

“I notice you emphasize ‘reported’ that he died,” Dane observed. “You don’t think so?”

“Be patient, I’m getting to that,” she reproved, smiling. She was warming to her tale, and obviously thought he was as well. And he was, despite his better judgment. “Get yourself another Dos Equis and shut up. Get me one too.”

He produced the drinks in short order, and settled back in to hear the rest of the story.

“Fray Marcos returned to New Spain, declaring he had seen golden cities, the smallest of which was bigger than Mexico City. These strange people were said to possess in great quantities domestic utensils and ornaments made of gold and silver, and to be proficient in many of the arts of the Europeans.”

“I think I know how this story ends,” Dane said, recalling a bit of history. “Coronado took a stab at it, and failed miserably. Seems like these seven golden cities were just mud villages and such. Nothing but a pipe dream.”

“Right. He spent almost two years searching for the seven cities, but finally concluded that they were a myth. His expedition was branded a failure.” She bit her lip and stared out at the water.

“This Fray Marcos guy, why do you think he lied? Didn’t want to admit to having failed? Maybe he didn’t want his friend to have died in vain?”

Jade turned and met his gaze with wide-eyed seriousness. “The kindest historians think that, from a distance, he saw sunset on adobe walls containing bits of silica, and believed he was looking at glimmers of a city of gold.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Dane protested. “Why would he see a city of gold from a distance, and never go close enough to get a good look? And what about all the details he provided? How would he know those things if he observed from afar?”

“You’re right,” she said. She took a sip of her beer, then rubbed the bottle across her forehead. Dane watched the cool beads of condensation trickle down her tanned skin. Illumined in the setting sun, they put him in the mind of gold. “Marcos did find Cibola, and he concocted his story to protect the truth.” She took another drink, waiting for his reply.

“Come on, now. Don’t leave me hanging,” he said. “You’ve got to fill in the blanks.”

She reached into her small black bag and withdrew a plastic folder, opened the catch, and produced a small stack of paper-clipped sheets. “I’ll hit the high points, so I don’t bore you,” she said, smiling mischievously. “Fray Marcos’s journal turned up in a collection in Spain. I’ve scanned the pertinent pages. Translations are on the back.” She held them out to him.

Dane felt strangely detached as he took them. His fingers were numb and his mind was muddled, and not because of the beer. “Another journal,” he muttered. Jade cocked her head and frowned, but said nothing. “Unbelievable.” He didn’t feel like elaborating.

“Uh huh,” Jade said. “He provides precious few details, but he makes it plain that he found something fantastic. He is also very clear that the story he told Mendoza was not only a fabrication, but a tale carefully crafted to lead them astray.” She took a deep breath and held it, regarding him as if taking his measure. “I don’t know why, but I feel I can trust you.” Dane nodded and waited for her to continue.

“The journal indicates that Marcos wanted to hide Cibola from Mendoza, Coronado and the rest, but he didn’t want to hide it from the world forever. I believe he left a clue in the bottom of a well.” She paused, either for effect or to see if he had any response. “I found that well just before you rescued me. The top caved in long ago. No one even knew it was there. The bottom portion is intact.” She leaned back, picked up her drink, and peered at him with an intense stare as she sipped her beer.

Dane made a show of examining the papers, all the while turning things over in his mind. He could tell himself that he didn’t want to get involved in another caper like he had before, but truth was his heart was racing from sheer excitement. He had chosen his particular field not only because he loved the sea, but because he loved the mystery, the search and discovery. This was right up his alley. And then, of course, there was Jade. He glanced up, his eyes meeting with hers long enough to register the crinkled brow and tiny smile. She knew she had him.

“So, what exactly do you want me to do?”