"Alan Dean Foster - Interlopers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

"This is the greatest archaeological discovery in this part of the world since Cuelap." Her awed words fell like
raindrops in the still air of the cave.
"I know." His guileless reply was matter-of-fact. "Even the local people don't know about it. It's lain here,
hidden away from the outside world, for at least five hundred years. Until I found it."
Utterly spellbound by the wondrous carvings, she let her light trail along the wall, its beam revealing one
marvel after another. "The farmers have been all over these mountains. Maybe they kept this place a secret,
but they must know about it."
He shook his head. "The entrance was sealed and, as far as I could determine, untouched."
She blinked and looked toward him. "Sealed? With what?"
"Stones. Not Chachapoyan." In the darkness, his face
was hidden from her. "Incas. The Incas who conquered Apachetarimac and gave it its name closed this place
up. I can show you a couple of the stones. The style is unmistakable: right angles on the inside, inclined on
the outward-facing edge. Unfortunately, most of them rolled over the cliff below the entrance when I removed
the first few." His voice fell slightly. "I was lucky I didn't get swept over with them."
"Why would the Incas seal this place up and leave the rest of the citadel exposed?" Her flashlight winked off,
leaving her momentarily without illumination. She slapped the plastic tube hard, several times, and the light
came back on. If they lost both lights in this place.. .
Not to worry, she told herself. There seemed to be only the one passage, and it ran in a straight line back to
the outside. A check of her watch showed that dawn was approaching. Surrounded by something rather more
excit-ing than newly exposed bones or a couple of broken pots, she was reluctant to leave, and said so.
He was already moving toward the passageway. "Come on. We don't want to be missed at breakfast."
"I'm not hungry," she replied truthfully, having stumbled across nourishment of another kind. "If you've been
coming here for weeks, you must have formed at least a few preliminary hypotheses about this place. Why is
it separate from the rest of the citadel? What about its function in Chachapoyan culture? What was all this
for?" She swept her light around the sizable chamber. "And why did the Incas seal it up? I know you've been
thinking about it, Cody. Yours is not an idle mind."
He coughed slightly. "Persistent little bird, aren't you? Sure, I've been formulating theory. But I am hungry."
Bending low, he started back up the tunnel. "I'll share everything I know, I think, and what I suspect, if you'll
29
just keep this quiet and not tell Harbos or any of the oth-ers."
"Sure thing." She followed behind him as he led the way out. "If you'll let me work with you."
He stopped so suddenly, she almost ran into him. For the second time, accidentally, his light flashed
blindingly in her face. "I guess I don't have much choice, do IT'
"No, you don't." She enjoyed the feeling of control. "Not unless you toss me over the nearest cliff." His
response was to go silent. "Don't be funny," she finally or-dered him. "I'll keep your secret, and when you
think the time is right to reveal all this to the rest of the group, I'll be there to support and confirm you as the
discoverer. Also, you'll benefit from my expertise, which is dif-ferent from yours."
She thought she could see him nodding to himself. "I could sure use some help. Not to mention the
company." "Then it's settled." Reaching out, she prodded him with her flashlight. "Maybe I lied. Maybe I'm
getting a little hungry, too."
He ventured a hesitant smile. "You'll find that putting in three or four hours of work before anyone else is up
does wonders for the appetite." Pivoting once more, he resumed following the tunnel outward.
True to her word, she uttered not a whisper about the passageway, the cavern, or their astonishing contents.
Every morning she arose in pitch darkness, smothered the alarm, dressed silently and efficiently, and joined
Westcott. Following the trail that had been cut to the citadel, they moved quickly and in silence, not talking
or switching their lights on until it was time to begin the mildly treacherous descent to the tunnel entrance.
The first several days they were underground together Cody spent showing her the rest of the exposed reliefs
and pictographs. Much more, he felt, lay concealed behind a collapsed wall of crumbled rock.
"Look at this," he instructed her, pointing upward. She expected to see more pictographs and reliefs. Instead,
there was a noticeable dimpling in the ceiling, filled with bro-ken stone. "I believe that to be the bottom of a