Tesla Secret, The (10 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The large monitor on the wall behind Harker's desk was blank.

It ought to have a screen saver
, Nick thought,
one of those aquariums with dolphins swimming around. Or sharks.

Harker finished reading Selena's report on the Mafra Codex and set it aside. She looked up.

"You're sure about this, Selena?"

"I'm sure."

"This reads like a documentary about ancient aliens. Something dreamed up for one of those UFO shows."

Selena nodded. "It goes against everything we think we know about those pyramids. Aliens might be as good an explanation as any."

"How about letting us in on the secret, Director?" Ronnie said.

"If you tell me where you got that shirt."

Ronnie smiled. "You like it?" He looked down at his shirt.

Noble Hawaiian chiefs stood heroically in outrigger canoes, gazing toward the most hallucinogenic island Elizabeth had ever seen. The scene was repeated several times over. The waters of the Pacific were a poisonous blue, the sky streaked with what were supposed to be the rays of a sunrise. Harker thought they looked more like streaks of blood.

Elizabeth sighed. "I was kidding, Ronnie. Selena, explain it, please."

Selena wore black casual slacks and a silk lavender blouse that brought out the color of her eyes. Gold earrings with sapphire accents caught the overhead lights. Nick thought she looked beautiful.

"The Codex is a detailed construction record of a pyramid in the Yucatan."

"What's unusual about that?" Nick asked.

"Everything. No one knows how any of them were built. Mostly it's informed speculation. Slaves dragging stones, that sort of thing. Archeology says they were used for religious sacrifices. That's correct, as far as it goes."

"Why do I hear a 'but' in there?"

"The Codex says it was an electrical power source."

Nick looked at her in disbelief.

"Power? The ancient Mayans had electricity? Come on."

She shrugged. "They didn't call it electricity, but there's no other possibility. The Codex describes a series of engineered channels that carried water under the pyramid. Rods of metal were extended down into the earth and the inner chamber was lined like an insulator. It was like a giant battery. Nikola Tesla designed something similar back in the last century."

Something tugged at Elizabeth's intuition.

Nick said, "It's a pile of stone. How does it get to be a battery?"

"It used Telluric currents."

Lamont said, "What's a Telluric current?"

"It's a geomagnetic phenomenon."

"Oh, yeah, of course." He smacked his forehead with his palm. "How could I forget about Telluric currents?"

Selena laughed. "Telluric currents are waves of very low frequency electrical energy caused by the earth's magnetic field. We can measure their intensity, predict their flow, map their locations. Do you remember I mentioned Tesla? He started to build a tower at the beginning of the last century that would have broadcast free electricity in every direction. It tapped into Telluric currents."

"I guess it didn't work," Nick said. "You look at your electric bill lately?"

"It would have worked except for J.P. Morgan. He and his cronies financed the project. Morgan pulled the plug when he saw he couldn't make money from free electricity. It was never finished. The plans disappeared."

"Figures," Nick said. "Not much changes. But how does that tie into the pyramid?"

"Telluric currents travel in predictable patterns. There are points along the earth's surface where they're especially strong. Hotspots of power. The Yucatan is one of those places."

"What would Mayans do with electricity?"

"Mayan TVs," Lamont said. "Ancient toasters."

"Lamont..." Harker's voice carried a warning note.

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry.

Selena continued. "The Codex describes a kind of lighthouse. There was something in it that focused the stored energy and emitted a beam of light. That's the closest I could come with the translation. It might not be right. But definitely a light of some kind, right at the top. I think the Mayans were trying to send a message to their gods."

"Is that it?" Nick asked.

"There are warnings about the light. Basically, stay away or the gods will punish you. The Codex isn't complete. It doesn't say what, but there was something at the top of the pyramid that made the light. There aren't any details."

"You said it's in the Yucatan. Where?"

"Southeast of Mérida, a few hours from Chichen Itza. It's in the jungle and completely overgrown. Smaller than Chichen Itza and older."

Nick had been to Chichen Itza. The main attractions were a gigantic, stepped pyramid and an impressive stone ball court where the Mayans had played an early and brutal form of soccer.

"Why hasn't it been excavated?"

"There are a lot of archeological sites in Mexico. The government has enough problems maintaining the ones they've opened up. This one is out of sight, out of mind. We pinned it down with SBIRS. Infrared sees right through the jungle canopy."

Elizabeth thought about the satellite pictures from Russia. She thought about a full out firefight in the Mafra Palace over bark pages 1500 years old. She thought about AEON and a dead museum clerk with designs by Nikola Tesla.

"I want to show you something," she said.

She touched a key on her desk console. The big screen lit up on the wall. She tapped another key and a satellite photo of the Russian pyramid appeared on the monitor.

"This is something I've been looking at in Russia. You see the square shape that shows up under infrared?"

"Okay."

"Now look at this shot of the pyramid mentioned in the Codex." She brought it up next to the first photo.

"They look similar." Nick rubbed a hand across dark stubble on his chin.

"They are similar. Someone is building a pyramid in Russia. It's too much of a coincidence, the Codex, the coded messages. It has to be AEON. Ogorov has enough clout to pull it off."

"Why would they do that? AEON isn't sending messages to the gods."

"I haven't any idea, but they wanted the Codex for something. We beat them to it."

"Too bad for them."

"If you were trying to get information about that pyramid and you couldn't get the Codex, what would you do?"

"That's a no-brainer," Nick said. "I'd go to the source and see what I could find out." He could sense where this was going.

Elizabeth picked up her pen, tapped her desk. "Selena, you said this pyramid is hidden in the jungle, unexcavated. That means no one has seen it yet."

"That's right."

"Then I think it's time someone took a look."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The airport at Mérida sparkled in the aftermath of morning rain. The sun threw shimmering storm light across the wet pavement. Dark thunderheads towered overhead with the promise of more rain to come. The Project team stepped from the air-conditioned comfort of their Gulfstream into the torrid humidity of late summer in the Yucatan. It was like stepping into a steam bath.

A black, four wheel drive Suburban waited for them. The man standing beside it wore aviator sunglasses, tan Dockers, an open shirt and an unbuttoned tan sport jacket. There was a bulge under his coat. He introduced himself as John Madison. Nick guessed him to be in his late 20s.

"You guys must have some pull," he said. He shook hands with Nick and handed him a business card identifying him as a second assistant cultural attaché.

"The Consulate sent me over. I'm supposed to give you the keys to the vehicle. After that, you're on your own."

He looked at Nick. "Say, I know you. You're Carter." His face lit with recognition. It made him look even younger. It made Nick feel old. "You were with the President in Jerusalem. Sir, I'd like to shake your hand."

Selena knew Nick was embarrassed. Strangers still came up to him months after the Jerusalem bomb.

"We need to get moving," she said.

Madison said, "You speak Spanish?"

"Yes."

"It's spoken a little differently around here, but you shouldn't have too much trouble. You'll need a map. There's one in the glove compartment."

"Gas?" Nick asked.

"A full tank. You've got a spare 20 gallons in back. Best advice I can give you is fill up anytime you see a Pemex station. Bring the vehicle back here to the airport when you're done. It's brand new, so try not to beat it up too much. The Consul waited a year to get it, it's his pride and joy."

"We'll be careful," Selena said. "Thanks."

"I don't know why you're here, but good luck." Madison shook Nick's hand again. He walked over to a white sedan idling nearby and drove away. They watched him go.

"Second assistant attaché," Nick said. "With a nine under his jacket."

"Maybe he's worried about bandits," Lamont said.

"Means Langley knows we're here." Nick looked at the Suburban. "Why are these government rides always black? They might as well paint a target on them."

They loaded aluminum cases into the back. The cases held their weapons and everything they'd need in the jungle.

"This is weird," Nick lifted a case into the truck.

"Sure is," Ronnie said.

Selena said, "What are you two talking about?"

"Nick and I have been in the jungle before." Ronnie picked up another case. "It was a lot different. We'd be dropped in somewhere with our pack and weapons. Spend a month or two. Crawl around in the muck, live off the land, eat whatever we could find or kill. This is luxury."

He waved at the cases, the Suburban. "Kind of like a camping vacation."

"Yeah, a vacation," Nick said. "I'd rather be at the beach."

Jungles triggered bad memories. Nick hated the insects. Every jungle had it's own, nasty variety. Poisonous centipedes that could make your arm or your leg blow up like a balloon. Vipers that hid unseen in the green leaves, with a bite that killed before you took a dozen steps. Venomous spiders crawling over you as you slept. Big mosquitoes that swarmed in millions.

The Yucatan wasn't as bad as South America. It had big spiders, but none that were poisonous. The worst problem would be the moscas, the mosquitoes. Then there were black scorpions, Las Alacránes. Evil looking with a bad sting, but not lethal. Or fire ants. Those would crawl up your pants and show you how they got their name, if you were unlucky enough to step on a nest. Army ants, that ate everything in their path. They'd eat your boots and you too, if you let them.

Much as he didn't like insects, he wasn't worried about them. He was more concerned about the snakes. The coral snake, the rattlesnake and the Cantil all lived in the Yucatan. The Cantil was like a cottonmouth, close enough. The coral was deadly. All three species lived right where they were going.

They got in the Suburban. Selena sat in front, Nick drove. Ronnie and Lamont sat in the back. Selena took out the map and unfolded it.

"First we head to Pisté. It's a straight shot on route 180. It looks like a good road," she said. "I think about two hours."

She turned on her GPS. The unit was programmed to show their position relative to the objective. She could switch to satellite view of the area with an infrared option. Harker had a geostationary satellite tasked on their target, giving them real time images. At the moment, the view was unhampered by cloud cover and showed nothing unusual. The ruins were invisible under the dense canopy.

"From Pisté there's a secondary road." She traced the route with her finger and compared it to her GPS. "We jog a little, then go south. The road heads into the jungle. The map shows it ending past a small village."

"What's the name of that town?"

"You'll just confuse your tongue, don't worry about it. I probably can't get it right, anyway. It's in Mayan. It will take a few hours more from Pisté."

"Do we get to see Chichen Itza?" Lamont asked.

"No, that's on the other side of Pisté."

"I've seen it," Nick said. "It's impressive. Big pyramid, with lots of steps. Also something called the Ball Court. They used to play a kind of soccer there."

"Soccer?" Ronnie said.

"It was a lot rougher then. The court is paved with stone and lined with stone walls. They put two stone hoops sticking out of the walls, high up. The idea was to get the ball through a hoop without touching it with your hands. No holds barred."

"What happened if you won? The king give you a trophy or something?"

"You were a hero, lots of feasting. Gifts from the king. The games were religious."

"And if you lost?"

"You got sacrificed to the gods. It made for pretty spirited competition."

"I'll bet there's some coaches in the NFL who wish they could do that. Talk about motivation, that would do it."

They gassed up at Pisté and turned south. The road was in poor shape. They turned east for twenty minutes, then south again at a cluster of shacks. The road became a rutted, muddy track, barely wide enough for the vehicle. The jungle closed in on either side. They drove in an eerie green tunnel filled with shifting shadows.

Nick kept the truck in four wheel drive as they bumped along.

Selena looked at her GPS. "Almost there," she said.

The dirt track broke out of the jungle into a wide clearing with a half dozen huts. The walls of the huts were of mud and cinder blocks. The roofs were thatched with jungle fronds and grasses that hung down around the eves. Children in ragged clothes stared at them and ran inside. Scrawny chickens scattered out of the way. A one-eyed goat watched them from a patch by one of the houses.

Two women chatted by a circular stone well. They looked up in astonishment as the truck rolled slowly past. Beyond the village, the track disappeared into the green.

"I don't think they get many visitors," Ronnie said.

"Wonder what happens on a Saturday night?" Lamont watched the women staring after them. Then they were past and back in the jungle.

"Not much," Nick said. "Selena, how much farther?"

"Not far. The road ends a half mile ahead."

Ten minutes later the road petered out in an overgrown clearing. The jungle was already taking it back.

Nick stopped and turned off the ignition. A glint of chrome shone through the greenery from something hidden in the dense growth. A blue Toyota SUV.

They got out. Nick took out his pistol and listened. The sounds around him were the endless sounds of the jungle, birds, rustlings in the thick undergrowth. The ticking of the engine in the Suburban was the only thing out of place.

He put the pistol away and walked over to the concealed truck, touched the hood. Cold. A narrow trail had been hacked out through the greenery, leading away from the truck.

Ronnie came up beside him and knelt down. Nick was quiet, waiting for Ronnie to do his thing. In Recon, he was legendary for his tracking skills. After a minute he stood.

"Five men. One big man. They're all carrying gear. Looks like they're headed where we are. Not today. Yesterday or the day before."

Nick looked at the makeshift path.

"Let's get the gear out."

"Complicates things."

Nick gestured at the narrow trail chopped into the growth. "But they saved us a lot of work."

They opened the aluminum cases. There were four packs with rations, extra ammo, a med kit, shelter halves. A water filter that could suck clean water out of a cesspool. It took a lot of hand pumping, but it worked.

"Where are the vests?" Ronnie said.

"What do you mean?"

Nick looked at the open cases. No vests. Then he felt a headache begin. He knew where they were.

Back in Virginia.

He'd screwed up. He'd been about to get the vests out of the equipment room in the Project when he'd gotten a call from his sister in California.

"Nick, you have to come home."

Shelley always thought of Palo Alto as home, where they'd been brought up. It sure as hell hadn't been much of a home for him.

"I can't come to California. What's the matter?"

"You're never around when you should be. It's Mom. She's had a stroke. I'm at the hospital. If you'd listened to me and let us put her in a home this wouldn't have happened."

Shelley was always on him about their mother, how he didn't do enough, how she had to take care of everything. In reality, she didn't have to do anything. His mother had Alzheimer's. He'd arranged for full time, live-in care for her. It let her stay at home. As long as there was someone to look after her, she was better off at home, where she still remembered a few familiar things. But she usually didn't know who he was when he called.

Shelley was mad at him for blocking her attempt to put their mother in a home and sell off her house. She was mad at him for being angry at their father. She refused to understand it. It had always been Nick and his mom who bore the brunt of his father's drunken rages, not Shelley. Shelley was Daddy's Little Girl. She still defended the son of a bitch. 

Now she was telling him it was his fault his mom had a stroke. He felt his blood pressure rising, a tight band across his forehead.

"Shelley, drop the martyr act and the accusations and tell me how she is."

"That's just like you," his sister had said. "You can't take any responsibility for her, you just want to keep George and me from getting our share. You won't even come out when your mother needs you."

That was when he'd lost it. "Goddamn it, Shelley!" He'd shouted into the phone. "Just tell me how she is! You think you can do that?"

His sister's voice was cold over the phone. "She's alive. I suppose that's all you need to know." She'd hung up.

Nick had wanted to hurl the phone across the room. For a short time after Jerusalem, Shelley had been a little more understanding, a touch more willing to see him as her brother instead of an obstacle in her path. It hadn't lasted long.

He'd put the phone away. He'd been so angry he'd forgotten about the vests.

"The damn vests are back in Virginia."

Ronnie looked at the cases. "Not much we can do about it. We probably won't need them. Plenty of times, we didn't have 'em."

"Yeah." It didn't make him feel any better.

They still wore the light civilian clothes they'd had on the plane. They changed for the jungle into heavy boots and camouflaged outfits that would blend into the greenery. Selena stripped with the others. No one except Nick paid attention. She was wearing red underwear. He remembered the dream of Selena wearing a red bikini.

Don't go there,
he thought.
It doesn't mean anything.

"Let's get the paint on," Nick said. They took turns covering their faces and hands with green and black and brown.

Ronnie looked at Selena. "Now you look right."

"Ready for Vogue," she said.

No helmets, only soft brimmed covers. Aside from their packs, each carried a knife, an H-K pistol and an MP-5N. Both guns were chambered for the .40 S&W round.

"Weapons check. Lock and load."

The clacking sound of the weapons sent a flurry of birds into the air.

He looked them over. His team. His family.

"We'll stay with the trail at first," Nick said. "There might be traps, so pay attention. Ronnie, you take point, then me, then Selena. Lamont, you bring up our six."

They headed into the jungle.