Molina reluctantly obeyed, getting the ship under way and heading to port with an unwanted airborne escort.
Under Giordino’s direction, a side-scan sonar fish was lowered off the stern and the NUMA crew began surveying the seafloor. Within an hour, a small shipwreck appeared on the monitor, not far from the survey ship’s stationary position. Molina had indeed been guarding the nest.
The sonar fish was retrieved while the Starfish, repaired and refreshed, was prepared for launch. Pitt had his two children meet him at the submersible. “This is your hunt,” he told them. “You go down and find it.”
“You don’t have to ask twice.” Dirk quickly climbed into the craft. Summer gave her father a quick hug. “Thanks for indulging us.”
“Just remember to come back up on your own this time.”
A short time later, the submersible reached the seabed at a depth of five hundred feet. Gunn had parked the Sargasso Sea right on target. The shipwreck was instantly visible. Dirk guided the submersible over the wreck and inspected its remains.
Perlmutter’s research described the San Antonio as a steam packet built in Belfast in 1887. The years submerged since her sinking had not been kind. The ship’s wood hull and decks had mostly disappeared, leaving little more than a stout keel rising from the sand.
Dirk hovered the Starfish over the wreck’s midpoint, where the San Antonio’s boiler stood upright like a lone sentry in a garden of disintegrating machinery. Off the stern, a bronze propeller glinted under the submersible’s floodlights, the only object appearing to have survived the ravages of time unscathed.
“The marine organisms must have left town on a full stomach,” Summer said. “There’s hardly any wood left.”
“Good thing they don’t like to eat stone. It might actually help in exposing more of the wreck site.”
Starting at the bow, they began a thorough inspection, poking and prodding the Starfish’s manipulator through the scattered debris. Reaching the boiler again, Summer waved her finger ahead. “There it is, leaning against the side of the boiler!”
Dirk eased the Starfish in for a closer look. A large semicircular stone with a carved surface sat upright among the debris, propped against the side of the boiler. It was identical in size to the stone they’d found at Zimapán.
“It must have been on the main deck and slipped down when the ship disintegrated.” Dirk high-fived his sister. “Good going, girl.”
Summer gave him a tired grin. “For all the trouble we’ve endured in finding it, I sure hope it has something to tell us.”
82
It took several hours before Summer got her answer. The process of securing a sling around the stone and attaching several lift bags required two trips to the surface and considerable finessing with the Starfish’s manipulator arm. Assisting the lift bags with a tug on the lines, the submersible helped pull the stone off the bottom and tracked its ascent to the surface.
A crane on the Sargasso Sea gently hoisted the stone aboard, then retrieved the submersible. The ship’s crew and scientists were crowded around the artifact by the time Dirk and Summer made their way over for a look.
“Looks like a perfect match to the stone in Díaz’s office,” Pitt said.
The carvings were less crisp, due to their immersion, but Summer saw much the same patterns and glyphs found on the earlier stone. There was even the completed carving of the bird, which she could see was a heron.
Perhaps more important was the diagram carved at the bottom. It appeared to be a geographic representation of a bay or harbor, with a handful of islands sprinkled about the top. She rubbed her fingertips across the surface, wondering what secret it would reveal.
“Summer, can you kindly stand to the side for a second?” Jack Dahlgren said. “You’re blocking the camera.”
She turned to see Dahlgren standing behind a tripod with a video camera. “Do you have a satellite link with Dr. Madero?”
“He’s standing by on the laptop next to the cylinder rack.”
Summer and Dirk stepped to the computer, which showed a live image of Dr. Madero in his office in Mexico. His head was bandaged, but he smiled broadly.
“Dirk, Summer, I am just seeing the images. They are wonderful!”
“A long time in coming,” Summer said. “How are you feeling, Professor?”
“Fine, just fine. I’m still having occasional headaches, but the doctors say those will go away. It’s a funny thing, waking up in the hospital after being unconscious for three days. My memory had vacated me, but gradually things have come back.”
“We were shocked to learn Díaz had attacked you in your office.”
“An evil man who got what he deserved. I am glad you both are safe.”
“Safe and anxious to learn what the stone says,” Summer said as Pitt and Giordino joined them for the assessment.
“I’ve been able to join a still image of the first stone with one your man Dahlgren just sent me of the recovered piece. It finally allows a rough but somewhat complete translation. Of course, Dr. Torres could have provided a finer interpretation, God rest his soul.”
“What does it indicate?” Summer asked, unable to contain her excitement.
“I’ll summarize as best as I can. It starts with an appearance by Quetzalcoatl, a legendary Toltec ruler, and his army. Motecuhzoma welcomes him but is then killed. There is a rebellion against the intruding forces, where much blood is spilled. Quetzalcoatl is seen to depart during the fighting.
“Afterward, the elders gather gifts and offerings, which are placed in the care of the Eagle and Jaguar Warriors. The offerings are transported in seven vessels across the water to an island marked on the drawing at the base of the stone. There is a representation of Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec ancestral deity. This, along with the image of the heron, suggests they somehow returned to their ancestral home of Aztlán.”
“Any speculation where that island is located?” Dirk asked.
“There is only the image on the bottom — and an indication the voyage may have lasted ten days. Since we don’t know where they started from, or which direction they traveled, it is difficult to wager a guess.”
“I just sent an image of the stone to Yaeger,” Dahlgren said as he also joined the group. “Maybe his computers can find a geographic match.”
“I understand the bit about shipping off some treasured goodies,” Giordino said, “but, Professor, who are these Quetzalcoatl, Motecuhzoma, and Huitzilopochtli characters?”
“Huitzilopochtli is the Aztec’s ancient founding father, a sort of deified George Washington who led a migration of the Mexica to Tenochtitlan. Quetzalcoatl was a legendary Toltec leader who lived centuries earlier. The Aztecs prophesied he would return someday to regain his throne. He was therefore linked with the arrival of Hernan Cortés and his Spanish conquistadors in 1519. Many historians believe the Aztecs thought Cortés was the second coming of Quetzalcoatl. The stone’s inscription would seem to indicate such a belief was true.”
“So if Cortés represented the reincarnation of Quetzalcoatl,” Giordino asked, “then who was this Motecuhzoma?”
“We know him better as Montezuma,” Pitt said.
Summer looked at her father. “So that’s what you discovered in Díaz’s office?”
“It was a guess, but Díaz had a codex page showing a warrior bedecked in jewels and a green feather headdress. I recall seeing photos of a similar headdress attributed to Montezuma.”