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Conspiracy of Bones (And the Beat Goes On) Page 3
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"I don’t know," Rocco said reflectively. "I always figured if I was to fall in love it would just hit me. Smack!" He clapped his hands together. "Right between the eyes and I wouldn’t know what happened."
"Trouble is, who in the world would return the sentiment?" Laura raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, look at this face. Who wouldn’t fall for this face?" Rocco looked from one to the other. "What? It could happen."
"The idea of love at first sight is absolutely ridiculous." Laura pointed at Rocco with her fork. "It’s a myth."
Mark furrowed his own brows. "I don’t know about that. That’s the way it happened for my folks, or so I’m told."
"Really? I can hardly believe it – with you for a son.” Rocco said.
"Thanks," Mark said with a rueful grin.
Laura smiled for the first time. “He has a point. You’re about as romantic as the bones you study."
“I thought you liked my bones.” Mark grinned.
"Speaking of bones," Rocco said, “tomorrow I’ll get my men to open up another Joe." Rocco was referring to the human remains still encased in their burial cells.
"Is that necessary?" Laura flipped her hair back off her shoulders. "You know the policy to leave as many graves undisturbed as possible."
"I think, under the circumstances, it is necessary," Mark said. Rocco beamed.
Laura shrugged. "You’re the boss. And keeping that in mind, maybe you should be the one to open the ‘Joe’, as Rocco so eloquently puts it. At least with you in charge, there shouldn’t be any questions about procedure." She gave Rocco a scathing glance.
"Agreed. Although, I want to be present when we break inside that chamber for the first time, too."
"Fine.” Laura went back to pushing her food around on the plate. “The place has been there for a few thousand years already. I’m sure a few extra days won’t make much difference."
Mark decided to leave the subject at that. "We’ll decide on a plan of action in the morning. I’ve made too many miles today to make any more decisions tonight."
◇ ◇ ◇
Later that night, as Mark lay beside Laura on his narrow cot, he was surprised by his inability to sleep. He had been physically exhausted before they’d made love, but now he was wide awake. He eased his arm out from under Laura’s head, and carefully hoisted himself from the cot. He was just pulling on his jeans when she stirred.
"I guess I should go back to my own tent," she mumbled, turning over. She didn’t seem in any hurry. Everyone knew about their relationship, and even though things were a lot more casual out in the field, they still maintained their own quarters.
This change in the status of their relationship had only recently developed. They had been acquainted for a number of years. The archaeological field was a fairly tight community, even worldwide. Laura came from Australia but they had met first at a site in Arizona. It was a Navajo burial site - Mark’s personal specialty. They remained connected through conferences and various other job related functions until Mark had requested Laura’s expertise on a particular dig in South America. She had agreed and now this was the third job site that she had joined him on since.
They’d been together so much in the past few years it seemed inevitable that their relationship take on a more personal nature. He just hoped she wouldn’t read too much into it. Then again, this was Laura he was talking about. If anything, he should be more worried about his own sense of emotional attachment.
Mark sat down on the one folding chair and reached for the saxophone case that sat propped against the tent wall. He gently removed the instrument and fingered it fondly in the darkness.
"What you got there?" Laura asked, sitting up half way.
"Hm?" Mark asked absently. "Oh. My saxophone."
"I didn’t know you played."
There was a lot she didn’t know, Mark brooded silently. "I don’t really. At least not well. It belonged to my grandfather. Jack Burton." He checked to see if the name meant anything to her. Apparently not.
"So you keep it around for sentimental reasons?"
"I guess. It’s my one connection to home." Mark carefully placed the instrument back in its velveteen bed and shut the case with a click. "You never heard of him?"
"Who?"
"My grandfather. Jack Burton. He used to be a pretty famous jazz musician in his day."
"I was never really much into music," she said. "He still alive?"
"Last I heard," he replied with a wistful smile. It struck Mark suddenly how very little they knew about one another outside the field. He looked over at the woman sitting on his cot, wearing nothing more than a sheet. "What’s your take on marriage? Commitment?"
Laura blinked in surprise. "Where did that come from?"
Mark shrugged. "I’m not sure. Maybe thinking about Jack got me thinking about home which got me thinking about my folks...”
"Ah." Laura nodded. "The love at first sight pair."
"Yeah." Mark laughed and looked down at the case in his lap.
"I can hardly believe they spawned the likes of you," she teased. She sat up and hugged her knees.
"Well they didn’t, really. Deanie is my stepmother. My Dad married her when I was about twelve. It was just he and I before that."
"What happened to your own mum?"
Mark shook his head. "I’m not quite sure. Apparently she took off when I was quite young. Never met her."
"Oh. I see.” Her gaze flickered away.
"What about your family?" Mark set the case on the floor by the chair. "Any brothers and sisters?" He was amazed they had never had this conversation before. What kind of a man expected sex but didn’t even know anything about the woman who shared his bed?
"Just me," Laura said. "My Mum and Dad were quite a bit older when they had me, so I don’t have any other known living relatives. Maybe a cousin in Sydney, but I’ve never really kept in touch. You?"
"I have one sister, Harmony. She’s quite a bit younger than me, obviously. I did my share of babysitting - her and the other musicians’ kids while they were out doing concerts."
"Concerts? What do you mean?"
Mark smiled, remembering. "My stepmother used to be in a band. I used to get stuck babysitting a lot while they were out rehearsing or performing."
"Interesting."
"I spent a lot of time with Jack in those years, too. My Grandpa. Well, my step-grandfather. We became very close, though." He paused. He had treasured those days. Now they seemed a million years ago. He hadn’t had much time for family recently. Too busy digging into the past.
"You’re scaring me with all this sentiment," Laura said with a slight laugh.
"Sorry." Mark tried to smile and glanced back at Laura.
"You’re still worried about that missing bone." It was more a statement that a question.
Mark latched on to the excuse gladly. "Shouldn’t I be? It’s not like Rocco to be so careless."
"I told you. Rocco’s beginning to slip in more ways than one."
Mark cocked his head to the side. "What if it is some kind of conspiracy, like he says? What if someone is out to sabotage the site?"
"I really doubt that." Laura shook her head. "Although, I have heard some of the local workers talking about the dangers of tampering with the dead. Maybe someone is trying to scare us off for superstitious reasons."
"I hadn’t considered that. But who?”
"It’s probably nothing." Laura rose from the cot, pulling the sheet around her like a toga and strolled around behind his chair. "You’re way too tense.” She massaged his shoulders and then bent over and kissed his neck.
Mark turned his head and gave Laura a quick peck on the cheek, then disentangled himself from her hold as he rose from the chair. He wasn’t in the mood for any more tonight. "What about the fact that that wing bone looks a lot like a Pterodactyl? Found with human remains?"
Laura sighed, coming around to sit on the chair herself as she reached for her errant clothing. "T
here’s probably a very logical explanation for it.” She pulled on her jeans. "Whoever belongs to those human remains probably also had access to some dinosaur bones. They were probably used as part of their burial ritual and are not contemporaneous. Dating will clear it all up, I’m sure."
"I hope.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck and lowered himself onto the cot. He opened his mouth in an over exaggerated yawn. “I’m beat.”
Laura’s eyelashes fluttered downward. "Right. I’d better get back to my own bed and get some sleep."
Mark flopped onto his back after she’d gone and crossed his arms behind his head. Too many conflicting feelings were running around inside of him. Laura, Rocco, dinosaur bones... What was really happening here?
Chapter Three
At six am sharp God turned the light bulb on. At least that’s how it seemed. There were no drawn out dusky shades to the morning. Near the equator it was either night or it was day. Mark rose at his usual 5:45 and met Rocco shortly after he’d had his breakfast.
"Hey, Boss. You’re up and ready, I see," Rocco said.
"Absolutely. Your team ready to go? I’m anxious to get started. Show me where you uncovered those first set of bones."
Rocco led the way into the side of the crater that had been created beside the temple mound. Elaborate cross beams held the hill intact as they went deeper into the wide tunnel that led below. Legend had it that a mighty race of kings had been buried here, long before the ancients that had built the temple. It appeared they might have found evidence to prove it was true.
The team had uncovered an elaborate system of tombs, carved deep into the side of the mountain. The main tunnel had been blocked off by what appeared to be a mudslide. A thick layer of sediment had hardened over the entrance and it was only by chance that Mark and Rocco had noticed enough irregularity in the pattern of the swirling layers of rock to investigate further. Once this had been cut away, the tomb appeared to be part of a natural cave, the height and breadth of which varied substantially from one part to the next. Branching off from this main artery were several smaller tunnels, only high enough to crawl through. These all led back to the main tunnel, but within each were carved shelves upon which human remains had been laid and then sealed with tightly fitting rock plugs. Rocco and his team had opened the first encasement while Mark was away. It’s where they’d found the surprising contents.
Rocco led the way to the open grave. The remains had not yet been removed, lying in grim testament to a former life long since expended. Mark wasn’t ready to make an estimate on the age of the find yet, but the skeleton was in surprisingly good shape, considering. He took note of the large frame; at least seven feet tall; and the strange headdress, which, as Laura had pointed out, was very fragile.
"You’ve taken all the measurements?" Mark asked, barely above a whisper. A sacred stillness enveloped them and he felt the need to keep his voice down.
"Naturally."
"Just checking. And the wing bone? Where was it?"
Rocco pointed. "Here. You can still see the depression of the wing in the dust. I’ve taken all those measurements, too."
"Good." Mark peered more closely at the indentation the bone had made and the soft markings around it that implied more than just a bone had rested there. "Nothing seems to be disturbed. Like there hasn’t been a breath of wind in here for millennia."
"You ready to open the next one?" he asked.
"Ready when you are,” Rocco said.
Rocco, and Mark worked together to unseal another tomb, chiselling away at the mortar around the stones used to block the opening.
Mark stopped to wipe his brow with his sleeve. "Tell me more about your theory, Rocco. What do you think we’ve actually discovered here?"
"It’s obvious," Rocco stated without hesitation. "Those wings bones are from a Pterodactyl."
"Dinosaurs died out long before humans," Mark countered.
"Maybe, maybe not." Rocco shrugged.
"What makes you say that?"
"I’ve been on digs before. Seen things. Things that nobody wanted to face up to." Rocco held Mark’s gaze.
"Give me an example.” Mark started chiselling again.
"Okay. Like the time I was working on a dig in Texas. Found dinosaur tracks and human tracks in the same valley."
"I heard about that." Mark huffed as he continued working. "I thought it was established that the human tracks were a fraud. Somebody carved them."
"That’s what they want people to think." Rocco pointed his chisel at Mark. "And who knows, maybe some funny guy thought he’d sabotage the dig that way. Maybe it worked, too."
"And your point?"
"That was only one set of tracks. I saw others with my own eyes. I helped uncover and measure them." Rocco eyes had a glint, even in the relatively dim light. "But who is left to believe it except those of us who were there? Too many sceptics were just looking for a way to discredit the site."
"Okay, so that’s one example," Mark conceded. “There could be any number of explanations. Certainly not proof enough on its own.”
"There are others. Lots of them."
"If that’s the case, why aren’t they documented?"
"They are," Rocco replied, "but nobody in the scientific community wants to touch them."
"I can see why," Mark said wryly.
"Which is exactly what happened the last time."
"What last time?"
"The time they found actual skeletal remains along with dinosaur remains."
"You mean human skeletal remains.” Mark gave Rocco a sidelong glance, his muscles still working to carefully break the seal.
"Of course. What’d ya think I meant?"
"Just checking.”
"I’ve been doin’ my research. Ever since the time in Texas, I’ve been keeping track. There are a lot more of these types of finds than you’ll ever read about in a scientific journal." Rocco hesitated. "I can see you think I’m nuts. Loco in the head. I’m no religious wing nut, you know.”
"Never said anything about religion." Mark shrugged.
"Most people do. The two seem to go hand in hand."
They worked silently for a few more minutes. Rocco was agitated, of that Mark was certain. He’d never seen that other man so passionate before.
"I think this is loose enough to move,” Rocco said with a grunt.
Mark and Rocco carefully shimmied the block from its resting place and set it on the dirt at their feet. Mark knelt before the freshly opened tomb, the stale air reaching out to greet his nostrils. He shone the light from his high beam torch into the cavern and his breath caught in his throat.
"Pretty impressive wing span, eh?" Rocco peered over Mark’s shoulder.
It was just how Laura had described it. The human skeleton lay perfectly intact, horizontal with hands folded over the rig cage. It was a very tall specimen, Mark noted; even longer in length than the last had been; perhaps even eight feet tall. Remnants of a headdress clung to the skull; bits of tanned leather, and a long, fragile armature that could have been a beak. Most impressive, though, were the set of wings, long since disintegrated to nothing more than bones, that had been obviously folded over the body like a shroud. They would have covered the man, as large as he was, from chin to toes.
Mark finally found his voice. "We’ll remove the remains in their entirety for analysis. I think this is unusual enough to warrant opening more tombs, as well. All of them if we have to, to get to the bottom of this."
Rocco reached into the opening with a long set of tweezers. "Check this out." He lifted a gold chain and pendant from the chest cavity and gingerly pulled it out. He held the piece of jewellery up for examination. Though covered with dust, it was definitely gold.
Mark scrutinized the pendant then looked into Rocco’s eyes, which were shining with vindication. It looked like a perfectly fashioned flying reptile, wings outspread; beak open. "It doesn’t prove anything. We’ll wait for the analysis."
"You’ll se
nd these away?" Rocco asked.
"Not till after I’ve examined them thoroughly myself," Mark assured, "and not until I have another set locked away somewhere for safe keeping. I’m not letting anything else get out of my sight."
Rocco agreed with a nod.
"And Rocco," Mark added, "just for security sake, in case this does turn out to be something... unexpected... let’s not sound any alarm bells. I want everything perfectly and precisely documented until we know for sure. Got it?"
Rocco nodded. "Gotcha."
◇ ◇ ◇
Later, Mark had time to examine the bones himself. They were hollow, like a typical bird’s, but had the distinctly elongated fourth finger of a flying reptile. They were also very large, with an estimated wingspan of 20 feet, although in comparison to the human, ‘large’ was a relative term. Maybe things just grew big back in those days. As to the age of the find, that was still a mystery. So far no other artefacts lined up with any other known eras in human civilization. He was anxious to do his own set of dating tests as well.
Laura entered the lab and sauntered to Mark’s workstation. "I hear you’re opening up the entire burial site, wholesale.”
Mark glanced her way and then back at the bones spread out on the table. "Considering the unique quality of what we’ve found so far, it would be negligent not to.”
"The government might not see it that way." Laura lifted her chin. "Part of the agreement was to keep disturbance of the original temple to a minimum."
"I’m well aware of our agreement," Mark stated, "and so far have complied. We’re digging under the temple, not through it."
"But the agreement also states that graves must not be unduly tampered with beyond what is reasonable - "
"I know what the agreement states.” Mark set the tweezers he was using on the table with a distinct clack and held her gaze until she looked down. “And under the circumstances, I feel I’m doing only what is reasonable." He sighed and removed his surgical gloves, slapping them down beside the tweezers. “This could be the biggest find in the history of modern archaeology.” When she didn’t respond he stood up and placed his hands on her upper arms, forcing her to look at him. “What if those are Pterodactyl bones? The people of Northern Zimbabwe have a long-standing oral tradition that includes reptilian like flying creatures. What if they didn’t die out with the rest of the dinosaurs? What if some dinosaurs did survive to coexist with men?”