“An archaeological site of some repute,” he explained dryly. “It predates the Incas by some hundreds of years.” He squinted at the buzzing plane. “People come here to view the massive figures and lines the Nazca ‘drew’ on this plain by moving dark rock and gravel aside to reveal the lighter rock underneath. Many of the drawings can only properly be viewed from high above. It is an interesting phenomenon for which multiple explanations have been advanced.”
“Von Daniken,” said Ashwood.
“Oh, come now,” Fewick admonished her.
“Who’s Von Daniken?” Carter inquired ingenuously.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Von Daniken?” Ashwood stared at him in disbelief.
Carter shrugged slightly. “Actually, no.”
“Erich von Daniken? ‘Hubcaps of the Gods,’ or whatever? One o’ his theories claimed that these here Nazca lines were made by the locals to help extraterrestrials’ spaceships land here.”
“Every one of his claims has been explained away,” Fewick insisted.
“So I’ve heard.” She looked back over her shoulder, at the entrance to the cave. “Now somebody’s gonna have to explain away that matter transmitter. Or are you gonna tell me it was a Kodak moment that brought us all the way here across the Andes from Paititi?”
“The two phenomena are not related,” Fewick muttered.
“Where is here, anyway?” Carter asked.
Igor was studying the plane, wondering if its occupants might spot them standing there among the trees. “More than two hundred miles southwest of the Manú, where we were. Close to the ocean.”
Ashwood continued to taunt the archaeologist. “C’mon, Fewick. Tell me again there ain’t no connection. Tell me how the Incas went and built themselves a matter transmitter.”
The whirr of the motor drive on Trang Ho’s camera provided quiet mechanical counterpoint to the hum of the observation plane’s engine. Igor’s hopes fell as it banked and turned northward.
“Matter transmitter.” Manco Fernández had stood aloof from the conversation, thinking furiously. “Do you realize, Blanco, what this means?”
“No, what?” By this time Carter was convinced that the slightly larger Fernández twin operated on two fewer cylinders than his older brother. “Money?”
“Yes, yes. Scientists will pay much to study such a device. But more important than that, much more.” His eyes gleamed. “Think what it could mean for crowd flow control at Incaworld!”
“Questions of origin aside,” Fewick protested, “you are speaking of one of the great scientific discoveries of the century. Surely you cannot be thinking of exploiting it for crass commercial motives?”
Manco eyed him as if he was crazy. “What else would anybody exploit anything for?”
“I wonder what the power source is,” Igor murmured to no one in particular. “I wonder where it is?”
“Sí!” Blanco fed on his brother’s excitement. “Disneyland have nothing like this. We could put one in Cuzco, or even in Lima.”
“You have no idea of its range,” Fewick pointed out.
The brothers ignored him. Manco waxed rhapsodic. “People would not have to fly into the selva or take the road through Paucartambo.”
“The Incas did this,” announced Da Rimini with sudden conviction. “The stonework inside the caves is theirs. The goldwork is theirs. I don’ know how, but they were responsible.” She kept repeating “they were responsible” as if it was some kind of sanity-preserving mantra.
The evening breeze chilled Carter, still clad in his jungle gear. He gazed longingly toward the curl of smoke and the plowed fields. Even with his hands bound behind him he thought he could outrun the Fernández brothers. He might run into a farmer with a truck, or tourists in a four-by-four.
Da Rimini did not share her partners’ ecstasy. “I read your mind through your eyes, Jason Carter. Don’ try it. You cannot outrun a bullet.” The wildness had returned to her expression.
With a sudden move she jerked Fewick’s pistol from its holster. He was a second too late with his hand.
“Madam, you are a witch. We had a bargain.”
She grinned nastily. “So complain to your ambassador.” She started backing toward the entrance to the cave. “Come on, everybody. We goin’ back to Paititi.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Fewick began. Da Rimini glared at him.
“You say yourself you think it work both directions.”
“Yes, but …”
“Vámonos! Now.” She gestured meaningfully with the pistol.
The Fernández brothers eyed one another. Looking resigned, they raised their rifles and gestured for the prisoners to move.
“Oh, good,” said Trang Ho delightedly as they started back the way they’d come. “Another journey. This time I can take notes.”
“Ain’t you maybe just a little concerned this crazy gadget might not work right this time?” Ashwood asked her.
“Vang, yes. Of course it will,” the reporter said confidently. “It worked the last time, didn’t it?”
Da Rimini used the mini-egg to close the entrance behind them. On the way back to the central cavern one of the two flashlights gave out. Everyone walked a little faster.
“Everybody stand where they were standing before.” The reckless way she waved the automatic pistol around as she spoke made Carter more than a little nervous. “I wouldn’ want to leave anybody behind.” Ashwood reluctantly assumed her position near the egg as best she remembered it.
“Now what?” Manco asked her.
