The Codex

50

Night had fallen, but it made no matter in the depths of the tomb, where no light had reached for a thousand years. Marcus Hauser stepped over the shattered lintel in the deep space and inhaled the cool dust of centuries. Oddly enough it was a fresh, clean smell without a hint of decay or corruption. He shined the powerful halogen beam around, and the scattered glint of gold and jade came winking back at him, mingled with brown bones and dust. The skeleton lay on a stone burial platform carved with hieroglyphics, and it had once been richly adorned.

Hauser stepped over and picked up a gold ring, shaking out the fingerbone that it still encircled. It was magnificent, set with a piece of jade, carved into the shape of a jaguar head. He slipped it into his pocket and sorted through the other items left with the body — a gold collar, some jade pendants, another ring. He pocketed the smaller gold and jade items as he took a slow turn around the burial chamber.

The corpse’s skull lay at the far end of the burial platform. Sometime in the span of centuries its jaw had come loose and fallen wide open, giving the skull a look of astonishment, as if it couldn’t quite believe it was dead. The flesh was mostly gone, but a mess of braided hair lay loosely on the dome of the skull. He reached down and picked the skull up. The jaw swung down, hanging by dessicated threads of cartilage. The front teeth had been filed to points.

Alas, poor Yorick.

He swept the light over the walls. Dull frescoes, obscured by lime and mold, were painted on the walls. Pots lay in a corner, filled with dust, jostled together and broken by some ancient earthquake. Small roots had penetrated the ceiling and dangled in tangled masses into the dead air.

He turned toward the teniente. “Is this the only tomb in here?” he asked.

“On this side of the pyramid. We still have the other side to explore. If it is symmetrical perhaps there is another one like this.”

Hauser shook his head. He wouldn’t find Max anywhere in the pyramid. It was too obvious. He had buried himself like King Tut, in an unobvious place. That was how Max would do it.

“Teniente, gather the men. I want to talk to them. We’re going to search this city from east to west.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hauser found he was still holding the skull. With one last look he tossed it aside. It struck the stone floor with a hollow pop, bursting as if it had been made of plaster. The lower jaw rolled, giving a few crazy turns before coming to rest in the dust.

A brute search of the city with dynamite, temple by temple. Hauser shook his head. He wished his man would get back from scouting the Broadbents. There was a better way to do this, a much better way.