The tent was hastily assembled on the periphery of what we surmised to be a drowning pool. Syncretism wasn’t unthinkable but it still surprised Cook to see Mayan rites along an Incan road through Kuikuro lands. That is if that’s what we were currently seeing on our monitors.
“So you don’t have to preprogram it?” Lobo was incredulous.
“Nah, this Israeli shit is pretty good.”
“South Korean.” Lucas corrected.
“Jointly developed.” I finished.
“So..100 feet…there’s no way radio waves can penetrate the water…”
“Yep, that’s real time response.” Lucas said proudly. His brother in law headed up R&D in Seoul.
We hovered over the submarine ossuary. It was a grim show indeed. I counted at least seven skulls. Who knew how many more lay beneath the silt?
“These aren’t children’s bones.” Bohm said.
“So it’s not likely that it’s Incan.” Cook elaborated.
“Either way that’s bad Voodoo.” Fabre said clutching his Gris-gris. I smiled at the syncretism among syncretism. A Catholic holding an IslamoPagan charm for protection against Mayan wells in the green hell.
“There is no sign of trauma?” Bohm stated and asked simultaneously.
“Not that I can see.” Cook replied.
“We’d see a lot better if we were down there.” Sam whinged.
“With the roots, silt, and currents?” Lobo challenged drily.
“With dignity, manhood, and not being a little pussbag.”
“Did you note the discoloration?” Graham surprised us.
“…no…but now that you mention it…”
“This couldn’t be any clearer.” Hoyt said flatly.
“…phh..hm…well why don’t you just tell us then.” Cook was beginning to get irritated.
“It would be unsportsmanlike.” Graham Hoyt replied exhaling smoke.
“Tell me doctor have you ever been to the Ganges?”
“Yes. Many times.”
“Did you witness the pyres?”
“Well, than it’s all in hand.”
Cooks face took on a look of extreme concentration. Just as I was sure the vein on his forehead would burst he exclaimed. “Pugilistic positioning.”
He extended a finger toward a skeletal forearm and fist.
“They were burned.”
“I am not aware of any Mesoamerican rite involving fire.” Bohm said.
“It wasn’t a rite.” Hoyt added in his detached way.
“Shit!” Sam cried out. “I had a dream about a fire last night…they…they were trying to escape the fire.”
Minds | http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow
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