Indiana Jones and the Seven Veils Read online

  Although neither of them had said it, this trip was the turning point. They'd either decide to commit to each other, or go their own ways. And right now it wasn't looking good for a future together.

  Indy noticed the silent Mayan watching him. He was a stocky man with a barrel chest, dark eyes, and black hair that fell over his forehead, accenting his high cheekbones. "Women," Indy muttered.

  "Can't live with them, can't live without them," Esteban answered in slow English.

  Indy laughed and couldn't stop. "Old Mayan saying, right?"

  He turned back to the wall and continued removing rocks. He tried to concentrate, but still felt giddy, a relief from the tension that had built up between him and Deirdre, and he laughed as he handed one rock after another to Esteban, who took them outside. Where the hell would a Mayan pick up that phrase? he wondered, and laughed again.

  By the time the opening was large enough to crawl through, he'd regained his serious demeanor. He took the torch, pushed it into the hole, and craned his neck. He saw a narrow chamber, its walls painted with ornately costumed Mayan figures as well as birds, monkeys, and jaguars. Vertical rows of glyphs separated the paintings, and hanging on the wall opposite the door was a green shield the size of a man's torso.

  Indy considered climbing into the chamber for a closer look, but decided against it. Bernard wouldn't appreciate finding him already inside. Instead, he busied himself with expanding the size of the opening so that it finally was large enough to walk through with only a slight bend at the waist.

  "Where's Bernard?" he muttered after a few minutes of digging.

  Although the Englishman had assured Indy that they would be "jolly good" partners on the dig, it was just talk. There was nothing equal in their association. After Deirdre's mother's death the previous year, Bernard, whose specialty was Mayan civilization, had replaced her as chairman of the archaeology department at the University of London, thus becoming Indy's boss. Here at the ruins of Tikal, Bernard was in charge of the dig, and Indy was his excavator.

  "Maybe I'll just take a quick look around while we're waiting."

  "It's dangerous," Esteban said.

  Indy turned to the Mayan. "Oh? How dangerous?"

  "You will see."

  The Mayans who were working with them were uneducated in the intricacies of field work, but they knew the jungle, and Indy was sure they knew more about Mayan ways than any archaeologist. He also suspected that some of them had done their share of pillaging.

  "Will you come inside with me?"

  Esteban considered the question. "Camozotz was guarding the entrance."

  "Yeah, but he's gone now."

  Esteban didn't answer. In the torchlight, his face with its high cheekbones and black eyes looked chiseled from stone. Indy had chosen Esteban to work with him not because he had any experience in field archaeology, but because he was the grandson of an old shaman and knowledgeable in Mayan lore. But now he realized that that very knowledge might be a hindrance.

  Indy stuck his head through the hole and started to climb into the darkened chamber, hoping that Esteban would follow him. He sniffed the ancient air and his imagination ran wild with possibilities of what lay ahead.

  "Jones! You in there, Jones?" Bernard's deep, authoritative voice boomed into the tunnel.

  Nice timing, Indy thought as he quickly withdrew from the room. "Right here, Dr. Bernard."

  Bernard was a burly man with thinning, gray-streaked hair and thick glasses. The confines of the tunnel forced him to hunch over so far that he looked like a bear that had just risen partially up on its haunches. He was followed by his assistant, a young Mayan named Carlos, whom Bernard treated like a servant. When Bernard saw the opening, he looked as if he were about to take a swipe at Indy with his big paw. "Jones, did you already go inside?"

  "No, sir. I've been waiting right here. Didn't Deirdre tell you?"

  "Tell me what? I didn't see her."

  "That's odd."

  Indy cursed under his breath. Deirdre had probably run off to her swimming hole with John just to spite him. Christ, if something happened to the mask, he was responsible, and he knew that with Bernard as his boss it could cost him his job. He considered not telling him about it, but quickly realized that could make matters worse. Better to be up front.

  "So you didn't see the jade mask?"

  "What mask?"

  He described the discovery and explained why he'd removed the mask.

  "My God," Bernard said, softly. "Camozotz."

  "Yeah. That's what Deirdre said. I didn't know he was so popular."

  Bernard looked blankly at him as if he didn't comprehend Indy's sense of humor.

  "I guess I should go look for her." Exactly what he didn't feel like doing.

  Bernard surprised him. "Don't worry about it. I came up from the river by way of one of the side trails. She probably missed me." He peered into the opening. "Let's get on with it. I'll have plenty of time to examine the mask."

  "Fine with me." Indy stretched a leg into the hole, but Bernard grasped him by the arm.

  "I'll go first, if you don't mind."

  "Be careful. The place could be booby-trapped."

  "Nonsense. We shouldn't have any trouble with that sort of thing. The Mayans were a peace-loving people, not like the Aztecs. They didn't go around ripping the hearts out of their slaves or turning their pyramids into booby traps."

  "What about that mask? Camozotz isn't exactly the friendliest Mayan god. It could've been put there as a warning."

  "Of course it was a warning. The priests knew that no one would dare intrude on Camozotz's territory without their approval. That's the charm of the Mayans. They didn't need anything more than a warning."

  Indy didn't like the way Bernard talked down to him, as if he were one of his students. Expert or not, Bernard's views of the Mayans were limited. To Bernard the Mayans were a dead culture; the fact that two Mayans were by their sides right now was irrelevant. No doubt he'd never even considered asking someone like Esteban to talk about his people. In Bernard's eyes, that was sociology, not archaeology.

  Bernard crouched low and backed into the hole. He wriggled and pushed and huffed as if he'd just run a mile. Finally, he disappeared from sight. As Indy followed him, he heard Esteban and Carlos speaking Tzotzil, a Mayan dialect. Then Carlos stuck his head through the hole and looked around. He said something else to Esteban and while Indy didn't understand it all, whatever it was must have been convincing, because both men crept into the chamber.

  "Let's stay together and not disturb anything," Bernard said when they were all inside the room. "Not on our first look around."

  The flickering torches cast waves of light through the room. The painted walls, which rose about twenty-five feet, curved inward. "Impressive," Bernard commented. "You see the figures painted blue? Those are the Nine Lords of Darkness. The red ones are figures of Mayan royalty."

  Indy was tempted to say that the professor wasn't telling him anything he didn't know, but he kept quiet. After Bernard had approved his request to join the excavation team, Indy had spent his spare hours enhancing his knowledge of the Mayans. What intrigued him most was the argument over whether ancient cultures, like the Mayans', arose independently or were influenced by other cultures. More than one nineteenth-century archaeologist had speculated that the Mayans were influenced by survivors of Atlantis. The same was said about Egypt, which would explain why both cultures had built pyramids. The problem with that theory was that Egypt's pyramids were several thousand years older than those of the Mayans.

  Still, Indy didn't discount the possibility of outside influences having affected the development of the Mayan culture. The Mayans' own myths, after all, spoke of a bearded man with red hair and white skin who arrived on a raft from the east and brought knowledge of crafts and arts. He was incorporated into the Mayan hierarchy as Quetzal-coatl, the god of culture.

  Indy looked around the barren room. "I wonder if someone beat us here." r />
  Bernard moved over to the intricately carved shield attached to the wall. "I don't think so. Why would they leave this?" His voice echoed in the chamber. "It's jade with gold inlay." He ran his hands lightly over the shield. "I'm going to take it down."

  "I thought you didn't want to remove anything yet."

  "I don't want it to fall. Our presence alone could be enough to disturb it."

  "Be careful," Indy said.

  "It won't budge." Bernard stepped to one side and pulled the pointed bottom of the shield toward him. As he did, a small arrow shot from the wall. It whizzed past Indy's ear. Carlos gasped and staggered several steps, and Indy saw the arrow protruding from his neck.

  "Good God. What happened?" Bernard gaped at his wounded assistant.

  Indy caught the man as he stumbled and lowered him to the floor. "Booby-trapped," Indy snarled.

  With a quick jerk, Esteban pulled the arrow from the man's neck. Blood spurted from the wound. It was already too late. Carlos's eyes were wide and his body shuddered. He coughed frothy blood. Within seconds, the shaking stopped. He was dead.

  Jesus, Indy thought. Just what we didn't need. And so much for peace-loving Mayans.

  "You bastards," Esteban shouted. "I warned you, and now look!"

  Bernard acted as if he didn't hear him. He was staring at the wall where the shield was. It appeared to be a revolving door, which had turned inward. Before Indy could say anything, a vibration resonated across the room, seeming to emanate from the tunnel.

  "What's that?" Bernard yelled.

  "I don't know, but we better get out of here."

  Indy dragged the body by the shoulders toward the tunnel; Esteban picked up the feet. Just as he ducked through the opening, Indy glanced up and saw that Bernard had gone through the doorway.

  "Dr. Bernard! This way."

  "No! This way, Jones," Bernard responded.

  "Cuidado!" Esteban yelled, as he jerked back on the body, pulling Indy out of the tunnel.

  At that moment, a massive stone block dropped, sealing the tunnel shut. For a moment, all Indy could think was that his leg had nearly been crushed. He set down the body and shoved against the rock. It was useless; the rock was immovable. They were trapped inside the pyramid.

  Bernard peered through the doorway. "What's going on?"

  Indy pointed at the wall where the tunnel had been. "Look for yourself."

  Suddenly, the stone floor beneath Indy's feet shook violently and dropped from under him.

  2

  Bat Time

  A fraction of a second before the floor dropped away, Indy dove headlong toward the doorway where Bernard was standing. His leap, however, fell short, and he grasped for the nearest object, Bernard's calf. The professor lost his balance, and toppled over backwards. Indy slid further into the hole as his weight dragged Bernard with him.

  Bernard shook his leg, smashing Indy's hands against the corner of the floor. Indy's grasp slid down Bernard's leg until he was hanging from the professor's boot. His grip was weakening; he couldn't hold on much longer.

  Out of the comer of his eye, Indy saw Esteban hanging from the edge of the hole. Using his powerful upper body, the Mayan raised himself up until his chest fell forward on the floor. He swung his legs over the side, and rolled out of the hole.

  "Jones, let go of me, let go of me," Bernard yelled as he skidded further toward the hole.

  Indy looked down and saw Carlos's body ten feet below him, skewered on a bed of razor-sharp stakes. "Stop kicking," he yelled back to Bernard, but to no avail. But just as he lost his grip, Esteban reached out and grabbed him by the wrist.

  "Hang on, Dr. Jones."

  "You too."

  Esteban slowly pulled him up until Indy flopped onto the remaining section of floor. He rolled onto his back, exhaled, and opened his eyes. "Gracias, amigo."

  "You survived your first confrontation with Camozotz, Dr. Jones. Tiene mucho suerte."

  "I guess he doesn't like unexpected guests." Then Indy remembered Bernard and sat up. "Are you all right, Dr. Bernard?"

  The professor was lying on his back; his chest was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. "You almost killed me, Jones," he blustered. "Mark my words, you'll pay for this."

  Without another word, Bernard rolled over and crawled into the next room. Swell, just swell, Indy thought. Bernard was vowing vengeance, and probably walking into another booby-trapped room. And how the hell were they going to get out of here?

  Indy moved carefully along the edge of the hole to the revolving door. At first, all he saw was the outer wall of an earlier pyramid that had been covered over by the newer one. Then he spotted a low opening leading into the older pyramid. He crawled into it and spotted Bernard standing at the center, staring intently at a massive stone sarcophagus which was covered with relief carvings. Diffused light seeped into the chamber from somewhere above. Scattered about the chamber were several skeletons, probably servants who'd been buried alive as part of their master's funeral.

  "Jones, it's the funerary crypt of a king from the Late Classical period, and it's still sealed." Bernard's voice shook with excitement as he pointed at the carvings. "I'm sure it contains a trove of priceless artifacts. Can you just imagine."

  Indy was as much surprised by Bernard's shift in temperament from venomous anger to twittering delight as by the discovery itself. Bernard's reputation was that of a cautious man, who had risen to his position by aggressively courting the right people and never offending any of them. But in the last few minutes, he had expressed more of his true nature than Indy had seen in the months he'd known him.

  After a moment, Bernard took control of himself and assumed his usual quiet, studied demeanor. He cleared his throat, and straightened his shoulders. "Sorry about what happened out there. I guess I overreacted."

  "That's okay. This is quite a discovery, but—"

  "Yes. There's so much we can learn here. For a change we beat the huaqueros. We are truly fortunate."

  "Not that fortunate," Indy interjected. "We're trapped in here."

  "What?"

  "That's what I was trying to show you before the floor fell in. The tunnel's blocked."

  "Good God," Bernard muttered.

  "Camozotz has caught us," Esteban said from behind them.

  "I don't believe in superstitions, mister," Bernard snapped as he looked over his shoulder. "We'll get out of here."

  "Any ideas?" Indy asked.

  Bernard pointed toward the top of the pyramid. Indy could tell he was struggling to maintain his calm, authoritative demeanor. "There's light seeping in somewhere up there. We'll call for help. They can dig us out."

  Indy saw a narrow stairway leading to the ceiling of the pyramid fifty or sixty feet above them. "Let's see if we can get up there."

  Bernard frowned at the stairs. "You lead the way. You seem to know more about this sort of thing than I do. I've never gotten trapped inside anything before."

  Indy ignored the jibe and motioned Esteban to follow him with the torch. The stone steps were steep, as if the Mayans were a long-legged race. Actually, the opposite was true, a fact which puzzled early researchers. A popular theory had been that giants of another race had built the pyramids in ancient times, but that wasn't giving the Mayans their due. Indy favored a simpler explanation, that the stairways of the temples were built in such a manner to emphasize that the elevated realms of the spiritual world were a steep climb, not easily attained.

  As they ascended, the stairs became progressively more slippery. The steps were narrow and dropped straight down on either side of them. "Watch your step. There's a black crud on the stones."

  "I smell it," Bernard said.

  They were almost halfway to the top when Indy heard a fluttering noise. He glanced up to see a dark shape swoop past him. Then another.

  "Murcielagos!" Esteban called. "Bats, no?"

  Indy ducked as another dove past his head. "Flying rats, Esteban."

  "Jones, le
t's keep moving," Bernard said. "I don't like it here much."

  Indy ducked his head to avoid the bats that were careening down in growing numbers. He was glad he was wearing a hat. He took another step and slipped and his forearm slid through the thick black slime. The stench was overpowering.

  Pushing himself off the steps, he scraped the crud from his arm as best he could. But as he did so, a bat struck the crown of his hat, knocking it from his head. Esteban reached out and caught it, but he slipped and nearly knocked Indy off the steps.

  "Careful. The hat can be replaced," Indy said, tugging at the brim to secure the fedora to his head.

  Just then, Bernard screamed in panic as a bat tangled in his hair. Indy swatted it away, then grabbed Bernard by the arm before he tumbled over the side. The air swarmed with bats; their high squeals shrieked in his ears as they zipped past him.

  "Pull your shirt over your head, and keep low," Indy yelled.

  Bernard did as Indy said, then rubbed his arms with his hands, fast and hard. "I've really got to get out of here."

  "I don't like bats much either," Indy said as he crouched down next to Bernard.

  "It's not just the bats. I've never told anyone this, but I don't like closed spaces. That's why you did all the excavating of the tunnel."

  Indy was baffled. "What about all the other pyramids you've excavated?"

  "I've always been fortunate to have others doing the actual digging. I can go inside for a few minutes, then I have to get out."

  "Well, don't hold your breath. We may be a little bit longer today."

  "I should've listened to the gossip. I was warned that you had a way of attracting trouble."

  "Up here," Esteban called.

  Indy looked up and glimpsed the Mayan's face peering down through a rectangular hole above them. "I also have a way of getting out of trouble." He climbed the remaining steps, then pulled himself up through the hole. Bernard was right behind him, and it took all Indy's strength to pull him through.

  They found themselves atop a stone platform that had probably been an altar. The bats were no longer bothering them, but they weren't much closer to getting out. Above them was the capstone of the outside pyramid.