The bottom right hand panel depicted a picture of ocean going ships of 16th or 17th century vintage. Soldiers with fair complexions in full armour were disembarking. They were carrying harquebuses and cross bows. A final frame, a part of which was indistinct where the edging of the cowhide had become frayed, evidently depicted another battle scene. The same armour clad soldiers with the whitish skins were retreating across a causeway away from a large city. The soldiers were being chased by Indian warriors wielding swords and javelins. There appeared to be a break in the causeway which was surrounded by a large body of water. The white soldiers were attempting to push two huge containers into the breach.
Bourque became aware of the acute silence his absorption with the document had occasioned. Therefore he hastened on with his reply to Joseph Brown. "The ideographic writing as well as the imagery and style is either of Aztec origin or a convincing forgery thereof. See here!" He sprung from his chair, warming to the challenge of explaining the papyrus.
"The pyramid depicted in these several scenes would have to be the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan. You'll notice four separate tiers topped by twin oratories. According to our best historical data, the one chapel was dedicated to the Aztec Sun God, the God of War, Huitzilopochtli, which translates as "Humming bird of the left"; you see, the Humming bird was his animal guise. Out of respect for this fearsome deity, the Aztecs customarily cut off the left ear of their vanquished enemies. The second chapel was dedicated to Tlaloc, the God the Rain. There was a peculiar logic at work here. Sun and rain, fire and water, exact opposites but both essential to the survival of the Aztec people. A duality of opposites. The clash of contending, warring natures - ergo perpetual warfare brings prosperity. This duality was the essence of their religion. Aztecs were a perpetual war machine."
Joseph Brown was getting the distinct feeling that this upstart academic was patronizing him and he didn't like it in the least. But, for now, he figured he should maintain an affable posture.
"The twin chapels, by the way," continued Bourque, "were the seat of that peculiarly sanguinary Aztec custom of human sacrifice. According to the Spaniards' account of their first visit to the Temple of Huitzilopochtli, the insides of the chapels were so caked with coagulated blood and viscera that the stench alone induced violent and persistent retching." Pointing to the Indian warriors depicted in the drawings Bourque said, "Each warrior is wearing a pair of grey feathers on his head. Undoubtedly these are Crane feathers, the traditional symbol of Aztec men-at-arms who were known as "The Warriors of the Grey Crane Feathers" among other things.
The armour clad soldiers in the other frames are Spanish Conquistadors. Clearly, the papyrus is a rather clever facsimile of what an Aztec account of the Spanish conquest might have looked like, had any such account survived the conquest.
Where did you get it?"
Joseph Brown smiled guardedly. "It doesn't matter. Let me assure you that it is not a 'facsimile.' It's the genuine article."
Bourque slouched down in his hard backed chair. He simultaneously began to suck air between his teeth as he furiously tapped his thumb nail on front teeth. Joseph Brown found the effect distinctly annoying.
"Did you carbon date the cowhide?" Bourque queried.
"It dates from 1520, give or take five years."
"Who did the analysis?"
"We chose Dr. Francis De Tocville, the Director of the Radio Carbon Dating Department of the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique in Paris - the best there is, right?"
Still tapping his teeth, Bourque nodded his affirmation. Joseph Brown pushed on. "Just to be sure, we verified De Tocville's conclusions with Dr. George Mathias of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Satisfied!" Brown smiled evenly, leaning his huge presence forward.
"All right," replied Bourque cautiously. "The papyrus is within the requisite time frame, but not necessarily the pictograms painted on the papyrus. If the writings are of Aztec origin, the basic pigment would have been an oxide of iron and clay; it's inorganic, so we can't really date it." Bourque began to pace, thinking aloud. "However, the reddish hue in the pictograms, would have come from a paste made by drying and pulverizing the bodies of a particular species of indigenous insect, "Dactylopius Coccus." So we can date the time that the insects were killed. By the way Mr. Brown, were you aware that only the female of the species could yield the red dye. Interesting eh."
'Pompous asshole,' Brown thought.
"Other tones in the papyrus undoubtedly were made from the local tropical flora. These can similarly be dated, but it's a damned difficult extraction."
"Yes it was difficult. But I arranged for it to be done. Your insects Jonathon ceased their life in 1520."
Since Joseph Brown did not volunteer any further information, Bourque decided they had piss-assed around the bush long enough.
"Okay Mr. Brown, no doubt, you are in possession of an authentic Aztec codex. That in and of itself is tremendously exciting. But I fail to see how that concerns me."
“I have my reasons. I know how fucking bright you are Jonathon,now let’s see if you can figure out what this old parchment is all about.
Bourque smiled wanly. ”OK, I'll try to work my way through the text." He leaned over the document again, scrutinizing it for several minutes.
"There are certain peculiarities with the codex," he offered tentatively. "If it were strictly a narrative, why would the scrivener have drawn the moon in its phases; and, see here, these astrological tracings superimposed onto the body of the story for no apparent reason. It's as if the number of stars or the time frame represented by the stars and planets in their seasons or the moon in its phases had some meaning with reference to the text. Perhaps," he shrugged, "you need a cryptographer not an anthropologist."
Brown smiled inwardly. He knew he had chosen the right man. He'd hooked him. It was now time to close the deal.
"Okay Jonathon, I'll save you some time. Let's suppose that the manuscript is a map. What does it tell us?"
Bourque resumed sucking in his breath, while tapping his teeth. Brown figured this most irritating habit was a form of mental concentration. He decided to put up with it for now.
"In the extreme right hand corner, where the edged is frayed, see here, there's a final image. I can't make it out. Shit, I wish I had my scopes."
"No problem," Brown enthused, enjoying his scenario immensely. "Over there; I took the liberty of having Dean Tichborne order in the equipment. We can even take infrared pictures if you wish."
"Not necessary. I only need a little magnification. Thank God for dry climates. Ideal for preserving the integrity of ancient documents."
Bourque placed the document under the scope with an almost sacerdotal delicacy as if it were the sacred host. "You know, Mr. Brown, you should not expose an original document, particularly one of frail condition - it can be defaced so easily: Dust, humidity, careless handling, a breeze from an open window..."
"If I'd brought you a copy," Brown answered, "would y’ have treated this exercise seriousy.”
Bourque nodded his agreement.
When Bourque finally looked up after scrutinizing the pictogram for several minutes under the scope, he was shaking from excitement. "Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe it."
Chapter 3
After the inevitable bump and surge of take-off - the shuddering, as the plane struck upwards through the swirling wind currents, the ride smoothed considerably.
Once the cruising altitude of 37,000 feet was reached, one would be hard put to discern any feeling of height or motion at all. Bourque liked that much better. In