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"Not something you'd want to meet some night in a dark alley," said Gunn.
Dr. Ortiz turned and waved a greeting. "The largest Chachapoyan sculpture yet found. I judge it dates somewhere between A.D. 1200 and I300."
"Does it have a name?" asked Pitt.
"Demonio del Muertos," answered Ortiz. "The demon of the dead, a Chachapoyan god who was the focus of a protective rite connected with the cult of the underworld. Part jaguar, part condor, part snake, he sank his fangs into whoever disturbed the dead and then dragged them into the black depths of the earth."
"He wasn't exactly pretty," said Gunn.
"The demon wasn't meant to be. Effigies ranged in size from one like this to those no larger than a human hand, depending on the deceased's wealth and status. I imagine we'll find them in almost every tomb and grave in the valley."
"Wasn't the god of the ancient Mexicans some kind of serpent?" asked Gunn.
"Yes, Quetzalcoatl, a feathered serpent who was the most important deity of Mesoamerica, beginning with the Olmecs in 900 B. C. and ending with the Aztecs during the Spanish conquest. The Inca also had sculptures of serpents, but no direct connection has yet been made."
Ortiz turned away as a laborer motioned for him to examine a small figurine he had excavated next to the sculpture. Gunn took Pitt by the arm and led him over to a low stone wall where they sat down.
"A courier from the U.S. Embassy flew in from Lima on the last supply copter," he said, removing a folder from his briefcase, "and dropped off a packet that was faxed from Washington."
"From Yaeger?" Pitt asked anxiously.
"Both Yaeger and your friend Perlmutter."
"Did they strike pay dirt?"
"Read for yourself," said Gunn. "Julien Perlmutter found an account by a survivor of the galleon being swept into the jungle by a tidal wave."
"So far so good."
"It gets better. The account mentions a jade box containing knotted cords. Apparently the box still rests in the rotting timbers of the galleon."
Pitt's eyes lit up like beacons. "The Drake quipu."
"It appears the myth has substance," Gunn said with a broad smile.
"And Yaeger?" Pitt asked as he began sifting through the papers.
"His computer analyzed the existing data and came up with grid coordinates that put the galleon within a ten-square-kilometer ballpark."
"Far smaller than I expected."
"I'd say our prospects of finding the galleon and the jade box just improved by a good fifty percent."
"Make that thirty percent," said Pitt, holding up a sheet from Perlmutter giving the known data on the construction, fittings, and cargo of the Nuestra Senora de la Concepcion. "Except for four anchors that were probably carried away during the impact of the tidal wave, the magnetic signature of any iron on board would be too faint to be detected by a magnetometer more than a stone's throw away."
"An EG&G Geometrics G-8136 could pick up a small iron mass from a fair distance."
"You're reading my thoughts. Frank Stewart has a unit on board the Deep Fathom."
"We'll need a helicopter to tow the sensor over the top of the rain forest," said Gunn.
"That's your department," Pitt said to him. "Who do you know in Ecuador?"
Gunn thought a moment, and then his lips creased in a grin. "It just so happens the managing director of the Corporacion Estatal Petrolera Ecuatoriana, the state oil company, is indebted to NUMA for steering his company onto significant deposits of natural gas in the Gulf of Guayaquil."
Then they owe us big, enough to lend us a bird."
"You could safely say that, yes."
