“The journey must have taken years,” Pete said. “The walk across Africa alone would have lasted six months or more. If you figure, conservatively, eight people to an outrigger, we’re talking about as many as eight hundred people.”

“Sam said it before: an exodus,” Remi replied.“How do we know they didn’t go around Africa’s southern tip?” asked Wendy.

“Two reasons,” Remi said. “First, you’ll notice that area doesn’t appear on their map; second, they may have tried it, but I can’t imagine anybody getting around the Cape of Good Hope in outriggers.”“Those are some of the most unforgiving waters on earth,” Sam agreed. “Here’s the million-dollar question: On your map, where exactly does the big question mark fall?”

“You’ve got me. Indonesia’s a big place. For Blaylock, it was probably where he thought he’d find his treasure. For the Aztecs, it was Chicomoztoc. When King Cuauhtemotzin dictated the codex to Orizaga, he was trying to show where his forefathers came from, but after centuries of having the story handed down through one generation of royalty to the next Cuauhtemotzin himself couldn’t be more specific.”Pete said, “What I want to know is why they left in the first place.”

THAT QUESTION was at least partially answered two hours later when Remi’s old professor, Stan Dydell, called Selma and requested a video conference. The group gathered around the TV in the workroom. Dydell’s smiling face appeared on the screen. In appearance, he was the exact opposite of George Milhaupt: tall, thin, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair.“Good morning, Remi, nice to see you again.”

“And you, Professor.”

“And that man beside you would be Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Professor.” Sam introduced Pete and Wendy. Dydell nodded in greeting. “My secretary is helping me with all this. You don’t mind, do you? I think technology has outpaced me a bit.”“Not at all,” said Remi.

“I imagine you’re anxious to talk about your find, so I’ll get right to it. First, let’s talk about the photos you sent. The vessel itself isn’t unique: canoe shaped, two outriggers, and a single mast. The size is impressive, however. Next: I’m probably not telling you anything you haven’t already worked out for yourself, but the carving on the bowsprit looks remarkably like Quetzalcoatl, the Great Plumed Serpent God of the Aztecs.” “Our guess as well.”“We’ve talked about Quetzalcoatl,” Sam said, “but what’s the significance?”

“As in most Aztec myth systems, Quetzalcoatl plays an array of roles that depend on the period and the circumstances. In some cases, Quetzalcoatl was related to the wind, the planet Venus, arts, and knowledge. He was also the patron god of the Aztec priesthood. He was also believed to be responsible for the separation of the earth and sky, and an essential player in the creation of mankind.”“That’s a lot of hats to wear,” Sam remarked. “And what about the other carving, the one on the stern . . .”

“Clearly it’s a bird of some kind, but I don’t recognize it. As for this parchment you have . . . It’s a copy of the Orizaga Codex, but I’m guessing you already knew that, too.”

“Yes,” said Remi.

“Do you also know you may have the only known copy in existence?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“In fact, until now it was believed there were no copies. Just the original. Here’s the short story: Javier Orizaga, Society of Jesus, was said to have arrived in Mexico as part of Cortes’s landing force. He carried with him a whole bevy of monks and such-presumably to help convert the savages.

“A few months after Orizaga penned his codex, he was ordered home by the powers-that-be. When he got back to Spain, his codex was confiscated by the Church. Orizaga was jailed and interrogated for two years, then released, having been denounced by the Church and the state. He left Spain and traveled to what is present-day Indonesia, where he remained until his death in 1556.”“Indonesia again,” Sam murmured. Professor, do we know where exactly in Indonesia?”

“I’m not sure. I can check for you. This codex you have, Remi . . . Where did you find it?”

“In Africa.”

“Interesting. If it’s genuine, it’s an incredible find. Have you had it physically examined?”

“Not yet.”

“You’ll have to do that eventually. For now, let’s assume it’s genuine. There are a number of things about it that are not just remarkable but potentially groundbreaking.”

Sam said, “You mean that it was dictated to Orizaga by the last king of the Aztecs?”

“That and more. I have to admit, the upper part has me stumped. As for the lower part . . . Here’s what strikes me: The scene in the middle of the parchment clearly depicts a sea voyage of a great number of vessels. On the lower left side of the parchment is, I think, a depiction of the Aztecs’ arrival in the area that would become their capital city of Tenochtitlan.”

SEEING THEIR STUNNED EXPRESSIONS, Dydell chuckled and went on: “Let me refresh your quintessential Aztec imagery. Legend has it that the Aztecs knew they’d found their homeland when they came across an eagle perched atop a cactus while eating a snake. The image on your codex is depicting essentially the same thing. The bird is different and the flora is different and there’s no snake, but the theme is present.”“Why wouldn’t it be identical?” asked Sam.

“My guess: It’s a case of what I like to call MDI-Migrational Displacement Iconography. It’s a theory I’ve been toying with for some time. Essentially, it’s this: As ancient peoples migrated, they tended to change their myths and imagery to suit their new geography. It’s quite common, actually.

“If these Old World Aztecs-for lack of a better term-arrived in Mexico nine centuries before the Aztec Empire rose, it’s perfectly reasonable to think their original iconography would have changed drastically-not to mention their appearance as they interbred with the locals.”Sam and Remi looked at each other. Sam said, “I can buy that.”

“Well, that’s good, because that was the easy part,” Dydell said. “The image in the lower right-hand corner, the one clearly meant to represent Chicomoztoc, is where the real wow factor is. How closely did you examine the image, Remi?”“Not very,” she admitted.

“Well, there are a number of differences between the traditional depiction of Chicomoztoc and the one you have. First of all, there’s no high priest at the entrance, and the faces you usually find clustered in each of the seven caverns are missing.” “I can’t believe I missed that.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself. In class, we barely touched on Chicomoztoc. That aside, it is what’s in the center of the cavern I find so fascinating. I took the liberty of enlarging the scan you sent me.” Dydell looked off camera and said, “Gloria, would you mind . . . Okay, good, thanks.” He faced the camera again. “This image is enlarged four hundred percent. Gloria says it should be on your screen now. Do you have it?” Dydell asked.“We have it,” replied Sam.

“The first thing you’ll probably notice is the creature between the two male figures in the middle of the cavern. The placement suggests it is a focus of reverence. The lower half of the creature appears to be Quetzalcoatl. The upper half, though, is hard to make out. It could be the tail, or something else altogether.”Sam said, “One of the figures is standing, the other kneeling. That has to mean something.”

“Indeed. It suggests supplication. Also, did you notice that the figure on the right is holding something?”

“It’s the Nahuatl symbol for flint,” Remi said.

“Right you are. Normally, I would classify this scene as a sacrificial ceremony of some kind, but you have to remember that the Aztecs were highly metaphorical in their ‘written’ language. Flint can also represent separation and the breaking of old ties.

“Now, here’s the kicker: In traditional drawings of Chicomoztoc, you’ll find two sets of footprints: one set going into the cave and one set going out. In your drawing, there is only one set.”“And they’re going out,” Sam said.