Indiana Jones and the Gold of El Dorado Translation

Part 58

The next morning
One hour before sunrise


They had been talking to the chief for a long time. The realization that the old Aymará chief could read their thoughts as easily as reading a book had shaken Indiana to the core. He knew the old man had been telling the truth. The chief had known from the first moment when he met them what they had been seeking, just as he had known what Corda and Ramos?s intentions had been. Indiana did not even attempt to find an explanation as to why the old man had this eerie power. He knew the old man had it, and that was enough. He did not consider questioning him further about this ability.
Reuben was also visibly shaken ? but unlike Indiana, continued to try to get the old man to allow them to leave. For almost an hour he had continued in his attempt to persuade the old one in releasing them. He had begged, pleaded, and finally threatened him quite bluntly. But none of it worked. The old man remained persistent in his refusal to let them go, and continued with his assertion that the gold of El Dorado could protect itself. When he finally left, he told them goodbye and that he would meet with them again the next morning. It was then he would give his decision on their fate.

When Indiana awoke the next day, strange feeling tormented him. There was a dull pressure between his temples, giving him a slight headache and making the ability to think difficult. In hindsight, their experience talking with the chieftain had been almost like a dream ? and the memory of the conversation was like trying to recall a dream; the details were there but they did not quite feel real.

Dazed, he straightened himself up. He was not the only one who seemed to find it difficult waking up properly. All of the men were confused and groggy, except for Marcus, who was snoring like a sawmill, and Henley, who was in a deep restful sleep of one recovering from sickness. The rest looked just as dazed and confused as Indiana had been when he sat up. The men moved with grogginess and uncertainty. When he turned and looked into Reuben?s face, he saw the same confusion and uncertainty, and a look as if Reuben was having trouble remembering where he was and why he was there.
And it didn?t subside. The deformed Indians who they now knew as the guardians brought them food and fresh water, and shortly after eating the Aymará chief appeared again. The weird sensation they had been feeling subsided only a little, and Indiana began to wonder if he were dreaming.
Then, just after sunrise, they heard the gunshots.

At first, Indiana thought he was imagining the noise. But the volley of gunfire quickly sounded closer, and not only increased in volume but in severity.
The opening salvo was a sporadic cracking gunfire, but it was soon joined by the hammering staccato of automatic weapons and screams, and then a terrible hissing and pattering, of which Indiana knew only too well: flamethrowers.

The men were in agitated panic and they all stormed to the exit of the cave, but the guard posted at the mouth still denied them exit; dumb, but persevering. In the thick forest ahead they could make out the red light reflections of flames over the rocks and vegetation, and the gunshots and cries revealed the battle to be occurring just a few yards from the cave entrance.

?Damn, what?s going on?? asked Reuben excitedly. ?Ramos! It must be Ramos and his people!? He took a step further towards the guardian at the entrance, and the Aymará raised his club menacingly. Reuben stopped. But Indiana could see the thoughts going through Reuben?s mind. Although they were unarmed, it was eight against one.

Indiana hastily moved in front of Reuben and confronted the guard, gesturing with his hands. ?You must let us through,? he said. ?We are not your enemy! Call your chief! We?can help you!?

The guardian looked at him and grinned stupidly. He had apparently had not understood a word. Or he didn?t want to understand.

Indiana?s gaze wandered desperately to the exit. The MP fire had stopped for a moment, but the fight was not over yet ? quite the opposite. The cries, and sounds of bustling steps, inched closer and closer, and suddenly the machine gun pounded so close to the cave entrance that even the Aymará became visibly shaken ? but he did not budge from his position just inside the cave?s mouth.

The firefight raged for a full quarter of an hour before the shots and cries slowly died down. It seemed like an eternity before the guard at the cavern entrance stepped aside to allow the chief passage through.

?What happened?? asked Indiana immediately upon seeing the old man. ?That was Ramos, wasn?t it??

The Aymará looked at him sternly, making Indiana regret asking such a superfluous question. But it quickly dissolved to a deep resignation, like a disembodied pain. Without answering he turned his back to them and motioned them all to follow him with a quick hand movement.

It had become bright, but the day hadn?t fully pushed the nighttime sky away. There was a persistent gray fog clouding the north, minimizing visibility to a meager twenty or thirty paces.

But Indiana saw much more than he wanted to see within those twenty or thirty steps. Scattered between the rocks and vegetation were the dead and wounded bodies of many of the guardians. Flames still licked at the air here and there, and the smell of gasoline, hot stone, burnt vegetation, and charred meat lingered in the air. Sometimes a faint groan penetrated the fog. The Aymará had paid a heavy price for trying to stop Ramos?s mercenary army. And Indiana didn?t have to ask the old man if the Aymará had succeeded.

Reuben, too, had become pale. Although Reuben?s career had made him witness to many terrible things, nothing could quite prepare a person for the sight before them. Expressions of helplessness and anger were written across his face.

?I hope you?re happy now, old man!? Reuben spat in a trembling voice. He furiously pointed at the dead around them. ?This is all your fault! You didn?t want to believe me, did you? I told you what would happen if you tried to stop Ramos alone, by force!?

?That?s enough, Reuben,? Indiana said wearily. ?Please.?

Reuben glared at him, and for a moment Indiana thought the man might turn his wrath against him. But then the rage shrank from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Indiana realized that he probably had not truly been angry. His emotions had spiked and this was just his way of coping with the horror.
?Madness,? he muttered, more to himself and Indiana. ?Bows and arrows against flamethrowers and machine guns.?

?Where are they now?? asked Indiana, referring to the mercenaries.
The Aymará made a slight gesture, pointing in the fog. ?There. On the way tot the summit. My men are following.?

?But don?t worry,? he added quickly, sensing Indiana was about to protest. ?They will no longer attack you.?

?This should not have happened,? Reuben said softly. ?We would have helped you, you old fool. Together we could have stopped them.?

The chief shook his head sadly. ?To shed more blood? No. What has happened was meant to happen. It is the will of the gods, not the plans of people that will stop them. The murderers will not escape their punishment.?
Indiana?s gaze drifted in the direction the old man had indicated. But there was nothing but grey and an impenetrable fog. A gentle, stony-covered downward slope ran in the opposite direction, sparsely covered in vegetation. When the guardians had first brought them here, Indiana and the others were far too exhausted to take in their surroundings. Now he understood and respected them. The cave entrance rested in the heart of the mountain, camouflaged by the rocks and vegetation, and clouded in a perpetual fog that Indiana surmised never lifted. The same everlasting fog that covered the summit. Indiana simply knew that the fog seldom, if ever lifted, and had probably been around since the mountain existed.

This was also part of that lingering, dream-like surreal-ness he had felt since awakening. It defied nature as he knew it. Nothing like this had ever been recorded. And he accepted it.

With a mixture of fear and resignation, he turned to the Aymará chief. ?What about us? What is going to happen to us now?? he asked.

?I have discussed this at length with my brethren,? the Aymará chief explained. ?We believe we can trust you. Your hearts are different from those others that have come, seeking only gold and power. You can leave. My warriors will lead you to the river. From there you can make your way back alone. It is not easy, but you can make it.?

?And Henley?? asked Reuben.

?Your comrade can stay until he has healed enough to follow,? answered the old man. ?He will not be harmed and will be taken care of until that time.?
?You will let us go. Just like that?? asked Indiana dubiously.

The Aymará chief nodded. ?As I said, you are not like the others who came before you,? he repeated. ?I trust you.?

Indiana sensed the old man was not giving them the whole truth. When he looked into the eyes of the old chief, he knew they would be let go. There was no reason to kill them now. If the Aymará had wanted them dead he could have left them in the forest days ago. Or they would have never been rescued from the boat back at the river. But Indiana sensed that letting them go would not come without cost.
 
Part 58 (cont)

But before he could ask another question, something sinister happened.
It was suddenly impossible for Indiana to take his gaze from the old man?s eyes. Those brown orbs seemed to pierce directly into his soul, and touched something inside. Any doubts he had of what the old man had said suddenly disappeared, and every reason for Indiana?s journey to this very moment fell away ? from Corda, to Ramos, to Marian ? it all drifted and became unimportant. It was still there, but it was suddenly as if it played no role at all, as if it had all been a realistic dream with no influence in the reason for them being there.

It seemed as if the Aymará chief stared and looked at him for a long, infinitely long, time before the chief turned and leveled his eerie gaze at Reuben. Indiana could see Reuben?s experience with the old man?s sinister gaze was similar to what he had felt. For a moment horrors were reflected on Reuben?s face, then they passed quickly and were replaced by a deep serenity that could not be shaken.

One after the other, the Aymará went form man to man. Each man registered a similar eerie, but not frightening, incident. At a deeper level of his consciousness, Indiana understood very well that the uncanny power of this man was not limited to reading his thoughts, but also to influence them. It was a power he despised ? the ability to control others free will, and he felt he should be angry about it. But it was a vain effort. There was no malice in the old man?s intentions.

They were separated into small groups, and each group was visited by two of the Aymará guardians and the old chief, one at a time. No one spoke, resisted, or questioned the old man?s instructions for them. Even Reuben nodded and when it was time followed the two Aymará companions wordlessly as they led them down the mountainside.

To Indiana?s dismay, the fog did not dissipate as they marched. Instead it seemed to grow thicker, denser. It was a good hour that they had marched through the damp grey before the sun peeked through the dense canopy. And surprisingly every single step taken during this hour seemed to bring them more and more into their surreal, dream-like state. The real world and its events were being pushed further and further back into their subconscious. This thought filled Indiana with anger.

No, not anger. But rather a mixture of bitterness and grief. He found it unfair that the last couple of dream-like days were filled with fuzzy memories. It was like a part of his life was being erased. Or more like the pages of a book that had secrets scribbled on them that were torn away and burned. Pieces occasionally slipped back to him, but they were incomplete.

Indiana found the sound of their steps were monotonous, like that of a machine set to stamp away at specific intervals. He moved between the others as they continued deeper into the jungle, leaving behind them the sky-billowing flanks that hid one of the last great mysteries of this world.

They arrived into a narrow clearing in the forest, when a sudden gust the fog above them churned and floated away. For a moment Indiana turned and looked back the way they had come. He glimpsed the summit of a mountain behind them. Even though it was still mostly hidden by the grey veil and would probably remain so forever, Indiana realized he was much higher than he had anticipated. He was looking at the rocky shape of a blunt cone with steep walls, probably the crater of an extinct volcano.

And halfway up the rocky wall, a chain of tiny human shapes was moving.
Indiana stopped and stared at the tiny procession, lined up like ants, until the gap in the fog closed again and obscured the view. He continued to stare into the mist for the next several seconds, trying to force another glimpse.
Marcus had also stopped, and after a few moments Reuben, who had continued, doubled back to him and stared in the direction of Indiana?s Gaze. ?What is it?? he asked. ?His voice sounded thin and flat, as if he weren?t really interested in his question anyway.?

?Ramos,? said Indiana. He pointed. ?I think Ramos and his men are back there.?

Mentioning Ramos?s name seemed to awaken something in Reuben for a moment, but then it subsided quickly. The flickering had extinguished before it could light the flame, and disinterest once again took over Reuben?s gaze.
?Come, Dr. Jones,? said the Aymará chief, who had also stopped. ?The path that lies before us is still far.?

?But Indiana did not respond immediately. Instead he looked deeper into the nothingness in the fog where he had seen the progression of men. ?That was Ramos and his mercenaries.?

A shadow flitted over the chief?s face. ?I know.?

?And you just going to let them continue? To El Dorado??

?We could not stop them,? replied the Aymará.

?You have seen it yourself. We were no match for them. Perhaps we could have stopped them, but it would have cost the lives of so many more of my brothers. The price would have been too high. They came because they were looking for gold. They will find gold. But the path to the Valley of the Gods leads only to one destination.

?I understand,? murmured Indiana, realizing what the old man was saying. ?You let them in. But not out again.?

He read the affirmation in the old man?s eyes. He said nothing more, and a feeling of grief overcame him. In spite of it all, Ramos and his men were still people. Yes, criminals and murderers. But still people. The thought of allowing a dozen men go to their deaths without intervening weighed heavily on him, no matter what they had done.

And suddenly he realized that it was not only Ramos and his men climbing the summit to their deaths.

Marian.

Marian was also with them.

The thought battered his conscience. Indiana was not able to say what hurt worse: the fear that she was following Ramos to her death at the mountaintop, or the pain of betrayal she had committed. They both stung him with pain, deep in his heart.

An expression of deep, honest compassion appeared in the old Aymará?s eyes. ?You are mistaken, Dr. Jones,? the chief said. ?She has not betrayed you. She is the only one who goes there that is not seeking gold. She had to do what she did, but she did not betray you. Not for a second.?

Indiana stared at the old man, and suddenly the veil that had lain over his mind for the last several days was gone in an instant. It was like lightning, almost a physical awakening. For the first time he felt like he was again the master of his own thoughts and willpower.

?I must stop them! I must bring them back!? He said resolutely.
The Aymará shook his head. ?No I cannot allow it,? he said.

?Then you must kill me,? retorted Indiana defiantly. He made a head movement toward the summit of the volcanic crater. ?There is certain death waiting up there. I am not going to watch her to run blindly into it.?

?It?s too late,? the old man said. ?Their lead is too great. Even if I were to allow you pursuit, you would never catch them before they reach the summit.?

?But I?ve got to try!? protested Indiana.

The old man looked at him sadly. ?I will let you go, Dr. Jones. Neither I nor any of my warriors will try to stop you. But you also will find death at the summit. The curse of El Dorado does not choose who is good or evil. No one has ever returned.?

?Nonsense!? contradicted Indiana fiercely. ?Corda found his way back at least once. And one of the conquistadors must have survived hundreds of years ago. If not the Spanish would have never known of the legend of El Dorado.?
The old man did not answer. But he also made no attempt to stop Indiana, when, after a few minutes he defiantly positioned his fedora squarely on his brow and turned around with a jerk, then marched off to return in the direction from which they had come.

As Indiana trekked higher up the terrain, he patted himself to make sure he had all of his belongings: his trusty whip and revolver were at his side, along with the old gas mask pouch he used to hold small items. He pulled the worn leather jacket tightly, then continued. The fog never parted, so dense he could only see two or three steps at a time. Without a compass and visibility of his surroundings, it was difficult to navigate. He kept to the slope of the mountain, using it as a guide he was still heading upwards.

Indiana had no idea how long it would take him to reach the rim of the crater. The absence of sunlight made it impossible to tell what time of day it was ? but he estimated it must have been mid-afternoon or evening. He probably had two to three hours of daylight left. He prayed it would be enough.

He found Ramos?s track, merely by coincidence, as he passed a tangle of rocks and roots, and abruptly gaping crevices and ravines. There was very little deviation from the winding path steeply leading up the flank of the volcano. It seemed to be the only way up the edge of the crater at all. Although it was partly a natural path, Indiana noted some of it had been cleared and widened by man: many large rocks had been split or moved from the path to traverse more easily, and several times he had stumbled upon rough man-made steps in the steep climb. He guessed the ancestors of the Aymará had created the path to transport the gold from above; the gold that almost ruined their people.
 
Part 58 (cont)

And he could not forget that other people had gone along here before him. Ramos?s men most recently. They were not very vigilante and were poor caretakers: Indiana had noticed cigarette butts, rags, empty supply canisters, and broken pieces of equipment scattered along the way. As far as they were concerned there were no repercussions to their actions: after all they presumed Indiana was dead, and had an obvious superiority complex regarding the Indians, who were no match with their spears and arrows to the military arsenal they carried. An arsenal they had demonstrated with the carnage in the village along the river and the encampment just below.

Just before he reached the rim of the crater, Indiana dropped down on a large stone to rest. As he recovered his strength and air, he saw something: a shadow approaching from behind.

He wasn?t sure if the movement had actually occurred or if it was just a trick of the imagination in the swirling fog. Had he actually seen something moving? Regardless, his heart skipped a beat, and he dropped to a crouch and froze, holding his breath so as not to give away his presence. His gaze was drilling into the grey wall of unshaped mist in front of him. It was like trying to see through a grey wool blanket. He looked and listened attentively, but his eyes only perceived drifting, damp swaths of fog, and the only sound he heard was the hammering of his own heart.

He was almost certain he had not imagined the movement behind him. There was something there, and he was fairly sure it was not Ramos?s men who might have been left behind to cover the back of the primary group.

Perhaps, he thought, the Aymará chief was as sure of the curse of El Dorado as he wanted them all to believe. Perhaps he had sent someone to make sure that Indiana never made it to the top. After another moment of trying to discern any more movement, he shrugged then progressed onward along the path anyway, moving as quickly as he could.

He glimpsed the shadow at least two more times before cresting the summit. Once he had heard the clatter of a stone breaking loose under someone?s ? or something?s ? foot and pattering down the trail. Then he heard a dull sound, which he could not properly identify but which almost clearly came from a human throat.

But at last the ground beneath his feet had ceased to angle upwards. The fog seemed even more dense if that were possible. The ground beneath had turned to black sharp-edged stones, large chunks of lava and scree, which Indiana could tell was layered pretty deeply beneath.

Again he stopped to gather his bearings. He was on a blackened plain. His heart began to hammer, and his hands became moist with excitement as realization set in. El Dorado. He knew it was close. Whatever had been concealed from the modern world was about to be opened up to him. In a few moments he was certain he would see it. A jitteriness overcame him, an agitation he felt when he was close to a great discovery. It was that adrenaline that had made him what he was: that insatiable thirst for knowledge, the obsession of a real researcher. It had little to do with purely scientific curiosity, but it was rooted deeper in his soul. He had never truly understood it in his deeper consciousness. He craved the unknown, and the courage and daring of discovery. All of this had made him the man he was. When he stumbled upon something that peeked his interest, his curiosity, there was usually a point where it overtook him and he could not let it go even if he wanted. He had crossed this point long ago: not only was he here to save Marian, he simply had to know what was hiding behind this wall of lava and fog.

As he continued, Indiana suddenly heard a sound behind him again. This time he was certain it was someone following him. He turned and crept into the fog at a faint outline of a man he could see shimmering behind the veil.
A distorted shadow moved through the fog towards him. The shadow was huge and almost silent. He imagined a monstrous thing, crossing the boundaries of worlds, stepping from the land of gods to the land of men, through that shimmering, supernatural mist. Perhaps the old chief had deceived him. Maybe he was being punished for not taking the old man?s warning seriously. Maybe the old man had sent a guardian to finish him off since he had ignored the chief and his stories of gods and curses. If it was one of the malformed guardians, he would soon find out if they were as strong as they looked!

The shadow approached quickly, arms reaching forward with grotesque, twitchy movements. Indiana dodged half a step, then twisted ? and threw himself at the shambling figure with his arms spread out.

The figure registered his attack and tried to react to it, but the reaction came too late. It clumsily tried to dodge to the side and grab Indiana at the same time. It missed, and dropped to a crouch under a misshapen branch of one of the sparsely scattered bushes along the path. Indiana leapt again, and the sheer force of his impact tore the unknown being right off his feet.

A tormented scream parted the lips of the shadow as they tumbled in a heap to the ground, rolling across the sharp-edged lava rocks and debris. Indiana realized the creature was much frailer than he had anticipated, the fog must have exaggerated its size and ferocity. Indiana found himself on top of the being, braced himself with his left hand on the ground and raised his right high into the air to form a fist.

?Indiana! For God?s sake?no!?

Indiana?s raised fist froze in motion as he suddenly recognized Marcus Brody?s pale, frightened face. Marcus?s eyes seemed swollen with fatigue, and his face was as white as that of a dead man.

?Marcus?? murmured Indiana in confusion. ?What in the world are you doing here??

?I?ll tell you that?when you get off me,? gasped Marcus.

Indiana had nailed him to the ground with all his force, knocking all of the air out of his lungs and making it difficult to breathe, let alone talk.

Indiana jumped hastily to his feet, taking another look at his friend who lay disheveled on the ground gasping for air. Then he hastened to stretch his arms out and help him back to his feet. Marcus took his help, but as soon as he was back on his feet he let go and managed a quick step away out of arm?s reach. With clenched teeth and face distorted in pain, Marcus quickly scanned over his body as if to convince himself that everything was still in the right spot and undamaged. His reproachful look shot to Indiana more than once during this process.

?What are you doing here?? repeated Indiana. ?Why were you following me??
?It wasn?t to let you beat me up,? answered Marcus. The accusation in his gaze deepened. ?You sometimes treat your friends in a very strange way, Indiana.?

Indiana wiped the words aside with an annoying hand movement. ?Are you mad?? he asked. ?Didn?t you hear what the old chief said? They will not allow us to leave once we get there.?

Brody grimaced. ?I didn?t want to run into the jungle alone with these uncivilized savages,? he answered. ?Besides, you?ll need my help.?

?Help?!? groaned Indiana. He made a helpless gesture with his arms. ?Damn, I don?t even know what?s waiting down there. Leave, Marcus. Get as far away from here as you can. Maybe they will let you go.?

?And you think I am going to let you walk right to your death with your eyes wide open?? returned Marcus. He shook his head fiercely. ?I can?t do that, my friend.? Suddenly he grinned and tried to lighten the mood. ?Besides, you think I?d let you get all the glory for finding El Dorado??

?That?s not funny,? said Indiana earnestly. ?I don?t know if you?ve noticed, Marcus?but we are not alone. Some of those Indians are behind us somewhere ??

?I have counted three,? said Marcus casually. ?But there?s probably more. Ramos and his cronies are in for a nasty surprise when they try to leave.?

?Not just Ramos,? said Indiana. ?I?m begging you, Marcus!?

Marcus Brody looked at Indiana, smiled, then shook his head again. ?It won?t work. We are in this together now,? he said. ?I?ll accompany you. You know, Indiana ? I?ve had a lot of time to think while we were with the guardians. I am sure I can be of help to you.?

?You know why I?m here, then??

Marcus nodded. ?It is for Marian Corda,? he answered. He sighed. ?You could have saved yourself ? and me ? a lot of trouble if you?d just have listened to me. I noticed in New York she was working with Ramos.?

?And what do you suggest? Put my hands behind my back and just wait as they die, in peace and quiet??

?Do you love her, Indiana?? asked Marcus suddenly.

Indiana did not answer immediately. ?I really don?t know,? he finally answered. ?In any case, I care for her enough that I don?t want anything bad to happen to her. And I think I can help her.?

?Then we shouldn?t be wasting time here. We should be catching up to them,? said Marcus. ?And besides, I have a feeling no good will come of us staying in this place for much longer. So come on,? he added with much more seriousness.

Indiana knew it was futile to try and convince Marcus to turn back. Marcus spun around and quickly disappeared into the shroud of the fog, and Indiana had to hurriedly follow.
 
Part 59

El Dorado

Gold.

Among them lay a world of gold. El Dorado existed. It was not a legend. It existed, and it lay among them, close at hand.

For the second time that day, Indiana had the feeling he was trapped in a crazy, surreal dream world. But this time it was not because some strange old man was influencing his thoughts. It was the image which stretched before him; a sight that was at the same time bizarrely frightening and fascinating; a sight that the logical part of Indiana?s brain was simply refusing to accept.

They had walked for a good half an hour next to each other through the eerie fog, which had become so dense that he could not register Marcus?s face despite the fact that he was less than a step away from him. And what they found at the end of that fog-laden path had been enough to cause Indiana to doubt his own mind. He should have been prepared. And yet when he and Marcus caught sight of the basin it was as if they had been struck by a heavy blow.

The valley itself was nothing other than the crater of an extinct volcano with a diameter of perhaps three or four miles. All of it consisted completely out of gold. And it was not just a collection of rocks and chunks of gold; there was a mighty rampant jungle, a tiny but perfectly reconstructed section of the world that had been lost thousands or even millions of years ago, meticulous to the last detail formed from the yellow precious metal. There were bushes and shrubs, rocks and trees, grasses and ferns, all worked with sheer incredible precision. Even the ground on which they stood was made of gold.

While they had been stumbling through the fog, they had stopped a couple of times and fumbled around for one object or another, a sign that they were still in this world and hadn?t crossed over into some fog-filled afterlife. Indiana had picked up a plant, a tiny animal, or just a stone that wasn?t a stone. Every single golden object he or Marcus had gathered was meticulously represented in the same, inconceivably accurate way as the two pieces from Stanley Corda?s possessions in New York.

No ? he should not have been surprised by what they saw now. But he was, and it did not matter because what lay before them was impossible. No people of this world, no matter how sophisticated their culture was or the technology they possessed, could accomplish something like this. He suddenly thought of what the Aymará chieftain had told them, and now the old man?s assertion that the gods themselves created this part of the world did not seem so far-fetched. Suddenly he was just scared of those implications. They had found El Dorado. And even though this was one of the greatest discoveries of mankind, he felt no triumph, no joy, no satisfaction. What he saw filled him with panic and fear. They should not be here. No man of this world should be here. No matter who created this fantastic landscape of gold, and no matter why they created it ? there were no people here. And if he believed the stories of the Aymará chief, no man could live here.
Five, perhaps even ten minutes, he and Marcus simply stood motionless and stared at the image of a long-gone world, shimmering in all imaginable shades of gold. Finally, Indiana overcame his awe-induced paralysis and made a hesitant move. A warm breeze struck him, and he stopped again and raised his head. The sky itself was hardly less sinister than that of the volcanic crater. The fog remained behind them, and above, but was no thinner than it had been before. It simply hung in the sky extending almost to the bottom of the valley. That, too, was impossible, Indiana knew as well. But apparently they had entered a part of the world in which the laws of physics and logic had been overridden. At this point it would have been no surprise to Indiana to find they had to cross a river that was pouting uphill.
?Fifty to sixty million,? said Marcus suddenly. His voice was thin and trembling, he breathed fiercely and hard, as if they had taken the last mile in full stride. At first Indiana did not understand what he meant. Questioningly he looked at him.

?That down there is at least fifty or sixty million years old,? Marcus continued with an explanatory gesture to the golden jungle. ?Some of these plants have been extinct for that long. Do you remember the dinosaur??

Of course Indiana remembered. A few miles back down the trail, the life-sized replica of the carnivorous giant lizard had so abruptly emerged from the fog in front of them that Indiana had almost cried out in terror.
Paleontology was not necessarily his specialty - but he knew Marcus was quite right in his estimation ? plus or minus a few million years. But what did it matter? Nevertheless he shook his head.

?Impossible,? he said, the uncertainty in his voice betraying his own confidence in the statement. ?There were no people fifty million years ago.?

?What makes you think it was human beings who made this?? returned Marcus quietly.

Indiana looked at him, the panic in his eyes betraying his thoughts, but he renounced further discussion on the matter and turned around again to move on. He had to reinforce why they were here. And the closer they approached the bizarre prehistoric jungle, the warmer it became. The ground was cracked and uneven under his feet, and Indiana had received two painful cuts on his hands before the realization sunk in that these were not ordinary plants to be used to assist their decent. They only looked like plants, grasses, and ferns. Some of them had razor sharp edges that sliced like a knife.
Every step they took led them deeper into a fantastic world that had been devoured by time. Although everything in his scientific thoughts balked at the evidence, Indiana understood very well how correct Marcus had been with his assertion. They came across plants and animals that no human eye had ever seen, and creatures no one even knew had existed. Once Marcus stumbled into a spider?s web, which stretched in diameter 20 to 30 feet, whose threads cut into his skin like razor-sharp wire. Another time Indiana almost impaled himself on a branch that hung out in his way which he tried to bat away. He had to remind himself that none of this was alive.

They had penetrated a good hundred yards into the golden jungle when they found the dead.

The figure crouched on his knees on the trunk of an almost man-thick fern tree. At first it had startled Indiana, and he bounced back in fear when he recognized it was one of Ramos?s men who had remained behind, probably to keep guard. But he quickly realized that the figure was not moving. Not breathing, in fact. It stared past Indiana and Marcus with its wide, extinct eyes into the void, it?s rifle haphazardly pointed at the ground. His face and the skin on his arms exposed out of the clothing showed terrible burns, and the skull under the partially fallen hat was almost bare with only a patch or two left of hair.

?My God?? whispered Indiana, horrified. ?What?happened here??

Marcus did not attempt an answer, but did something that completely surprised Indiana ? while he himself had stopped a safe distance from the dead man in horror, Marcus went over to the corpse and dropped to his knees in front of the man, examining him more closely. He looked attentively at the dead man?s devastated face, and finally even brushed his fingertips across its skull, cheek bones and neck.

?This is not one of Ramos?s men,? he said with finality after returning to Indiana?s side. ?I was with him and his cronies long enough. My guess is he was with Stanley. I?d say he?s been dead for two or three days at least.?
Indiana finally overcame his reluctance and approached the corpse. At this distance the sight was even more unpleasant, but he forced himself to look over the body just as closely as Marcus had done before. What he had at first guessed were terrible burns were now revealed to be?something else. It was like a burn, but in a way Indiana had never seen before in his life.

Nevertheless he suddenly had the feeling he knew what had happened here. The explanation was already somewhere present in his memory, but it still was not ready to reveal itself. He was still confused and uncertain, and couldn?t piece together his thoughts clearly.

With a jerk he spun around and faced Marcus, looking at him in earnest. ?Would you mind not playing the mysterious one any longer and tell me what the devil?s name is going on here??

?Honestly, I don?t know,? he answered. But a grim expression crossed his face, as if he were unsure of that assertion himself. ?But perhaps I have a theory. You know I was stuck with the Aymará longer than you and your friends. And I?ve been thinking abut what the chief told me for a while. It?s just a theory?but if I?m right, then we should leave this place as fast a s we can. And you?d better not touch anything else here.? In the same instance, Marcus bent down and did exactly what he had just told Indiana NOT to do: he broke off one of the golden twigs of a bush and snapped it in two pieces before Indiana?s eyes without any apparent effort, staring at it intently the entire time. For a few seconds he stared with a gloomy face at the pieces of vegetation in his hands, then looked back at Indiana. ?That fits my theory.?
Indiana looked curiously at the branch in Marcus?s hands. It was not entirely made of gold. It was only covered in ta thin layer of the yellow metal. Inside was a fibrous powdery material. It struck Indiana ? fifty or sixty million years ago this may have actually been wood from a real bush.

?I think I know what happened here,? Marcus continued. ?A meteor.?
 
Part 59 (cont)

?A-what?? Indiana asked incredulously.

Marcus nodded and dropped the pieces of gold-covered wood to the ground, then vigorously wiped his hands on his pants with hectic movements. ?A meteor struck this place fifty or sixty million years ago,? he explained. ?It must have been large, and made of gold or something similar. It evaporated very close to the ground and covered this entire area in liquid from the immense heat of entering the earth?s atmosphere. And it left behind this petrified jungle, preserved for millions of years.?

?That?that?s?ridiculous,? murmured Indiana insecurely. ?I could give you a dozen reasons why that is impossible.?

?Rather two dozen,? remarked Marcus calmly. ?And yet here we are. It is the only explanation that makes sense.? He was suddenly very excited. ?All these plants and animals have been extinct for fifty million years or more, Indy. And you said it yourself, this would have been impossible for man to create.?

Indiana was visibly upset. The scientist in him protested every hysterical sentence of Marcus?s hair-raising theory. But he had learned more than once in the course of his life that not everything has an easy explanation. There was a scientific basis for Marcus?s theory ? much more scientific than the ?valley created by the gods? story spouted by the old Aymará chief. Besides, whatever had created it, it was here in front of him ? he could see and touch this gold. They stood in the midst of a primeval world that existed forty-nine million years before the birth of mankind.

Still shaken and unsure by Marcus?s far-fetched theory, he pointed at the dead man. ?And what about this guy? What killed him??

?The same thing that will kill us if we stay here too long,? answered Marcus earnestly. ?The Curse of El Dorado. Remember what he old man told you. Everyone who touches this gold becomes sick and dies. Think of the things Corda brought back to New York. And what happened to those men he sold them to. Maybe it?s not gold. Maybe it?s just something that looks like gold, but is deadly.? He paused for a second. ?And if it came from space ? who knows. It might be radioactively contaminated.?

?Radio?? Indiana faltered in the middle of the word. An icy shiver ran down his spine, and suddenly it all became clear. The Curse of El Dorado. Stanley Corda?s mysterious disease. The hysteria from the top at the FBI that erupted when they examined Corda?s first souvenirs and found that they were highly irradiated. Indiana almost laughed when he realized how much Reuben and his superiors had been wrong. And how much more horrific the truth actually was.

With a mixture of fear and confusion, he looked down at the dead mercenary. He agreed with Marcus?s estimation that the man had been dead about two days. But Corda himself only had a two day head start on them; maybe three with the unknown amount of time that passed while held by the Aymará guardians and Ramos?s captivity. An extra day or two in this environment had caused this man to die in such a horrible fashion. Indiana tried to quickly estimate how long he and Marcus could safely stay in this valley. Certainly not more than another hour. Maybe even that was too long.

?We must find Marian,? he said suddenly. ?Fast?before it really is too late!?
Marcus wanted to disagree, but Indiana didn?t give him the chance. Indiana turned and stormed onward. His over-excited imagination conjured visions of radioactive death and decay, a silent and invisible menace that permeated the very air everywhere in this valley. Had it become noticeably warmer? Or was his body already being affected by the radiation, burning and gnawing its way deep inside himself, the first sign of the deadly fire that would devour his body from the inside out?

He chased away the thought. If that were actually the case, it was already too late anyway.

They traveled another half-mile into the eerie jungle valley, their footsteps and breathing echoing, as if they were running though a metal corridor. Then they heard the first voices. Indiana stopped, hastily raising his hand just as Marcus was about to ask a question. Both fell silent and listened attentively. It was hard to tell in this bizarre environment which direction the sound was coming from. But after a few seconds he saw a shadow flicker and block the golden shimmer ahead of them. They crouched behind the golden cover of the bushes and crept onward.

The jungle continued a few dozen paces farther, then ceased. They found themselves at the edge of a circular clearance two or three hundred yards across, and in its midst a stone of pure gold rose into the air, easily the size of a small house. A scarce dozen figures moved in the clearing; most in the immediate vicinity of the giant pile of golden nuggets. Some were running haphazardly around, screaming and moaning. Others were moving in a very odd manner, almost shambling. One crouched down next to a large lump of gold on the ground, then doubled over as if he were ill.

?I think you?re right,? Indiana whispered. ?This may be your meteor!?

Marcus nodded. Although what lay before them was exactly what he had theorized to Indiana just a short time before, he stared in awe at the huge chunk of gold, stunned. ?Unimaginable,? he whispered. ?That?thing must weigh a hundred tons. It would be worth billions, Indy. Billions!?

Indiana?s thoughts immediately went back to the burnt face of the dead man on the trail behind them, and the generations of crippled Aymará who guarded this golden valley since the beginning of man. But he did not get a chance to be the voice of reason. The sound of shattered glass erupted behind them, and when he and Marcus spun around they found themselves looking into the barrels of two machine guns pointed at them, directly at their faces.

The weapons were in the hands of two mercenaries. Between the two was a third, smaller half-crippled figure.

?You are mistaken, Mr. Brody,? said Ramos. ?It might be worth a trillion. There is probably more gold right in this valley than the rest of the world combined.? He smiled lightly. ?But do not worry ? I won?t take so much of it that the price of gold falls through the floor. After all, I don?t want to be the man who ruins the gold business.?

?You won?t take anything from it, you fool,? said Indiana quietly. ?Have you still not grasped the fact that this gold brings death??

Ramos laughed and stepped back, giving his men a wink. The two men abruptly grabbed Indiana and Marcus, yanking them up to their feet gruffly and dragged them over to Ramos. Indiana had not resisted. Marcus, on the other hand, tried to fight back which resulted in a cruel jab to the ribs with the butt of the gun. The blow doubled Marcus over in pain.

?I?m actually glad you found your way here, Dr. Jones,? said Ramos. ?It was not very wise of you to flee. Although I was at a disadvantage and could not visibly admire your ingenuity, my men told me what you did. It was very brave. But also very stupid. You could have been harmed or killed with that stunt.?

?We?ll all be killed,? said Indiana, ?and quite horribly, Ramos, if we don?t get out of here immediately. This gold is contaminated. It kills anyone who touches it.?

?Well, I still live,? returned Ramos almost cheerfully. ?And my men, too. And we have touched it.?

?You damn fool!? said Indiana upset. ?I know you are blind, but I didn?t think you were stupid, Ramos. Have you forgotten what happened to people who bought Corda?s gold?? He pointed angrily into the forest. ?There?s a dead man right up there who also believed the curse of El Dorado was only a legend. It?s a pity you can?t see him. But you should ask your men what happened to him. And if that?s not enough for you, then go to the Aymará Indians and let them tell you what fate holds in store for you and your men.?

?The curse of El Dorado?? repeated Ramos. He laughed, but suddenly sounded bitter. It was almost an outburst. ?You?re mistaken, Dr. Jones. I know it exists. And if I know, who else knew??

?What are you talking about?? Indiana asked, confused.

Suddenly Ramos became angry. With a violent gesture, he motioned to his own face and came with a hair of Indiana?s face. ?Look at me!? he demanded, agitated. ?I?m a cripple. Oh, I know what people say about me behind my back. Even though I don?t see them, I know what they are thinking. Have you never wondered why I am this way??

?No.?

?Is that so?? returned Ramos with a renewed, bitter laugh. ?I will tell you, Dr. Jones. I know this gold is cursed, and I know what it has done to the Aymará, for it has done the same to me and my ancestors. And that?s why it belongs to me. It was my ancestor who first found the way to El Dorado, the first conquistador who found this valley, and he retuned alive. But ever since, the curse of El Dorado has been on my family. I am not the first cripple in my family?s lineage. My father and his father both knew about El Dorado and what it really was.?

?If that?s true then you are even crazier than I believed,? answered Indiana. ?You knew, and you came here anyway.?

?It belongs to me!? answered Ramos shrilly. ?Ten generations of my family have paid the price for this gold. The knowledge that El Dorado is more than a legend has been passed on from father to son in my family, and I am the one who inherits it. You call me crazy? Because I demand the reward owed to my family for four hundred years??

?It will kill you, you fool!? cried Indiana. ?Don?t you understand? Do you really think you?re immune? It will kill us all here. We may already be dead!?

?Shut up, Jones!? demanded Ramos.

?Why?? inquired Indiana quietly. ?Are you afraid that your men might hear? Are you afraid they?ll find out that this isn?t wealth, it?s certain death?? He turned to the man holding the rifle at him. ?Has he not told you??
 
Part 59 (cont)

The man was silent, but the uncertain flicker in his eyes revealed the truth. His comrade also began to jitter nervously, his glare alternating back and forth from Ramos to Indiana.

?Tell them, Ramos,? demanded Indiana. ?Tell them this gold is worth nothing. Tell them what Corda?s men died of? Have they seen them? Tell them all the others who have come here have died.?

?Keep your mouth shut!? cried Ramos, but Indiana continued, turning directly to the man next to him.

?This gold will kill you,? he continued. ?It kills everyone who touches it. You will not live long enough to enjoy your wealth.?

?That?s not true!? yelled Ramos. ?Keep your mouth shut or I?ll have you shot on the spot!?

?We are probably already dead anyway,? retorted Indiana. ?And you know that. You?ve known that all along, haven?t you??

Ramos stared hatefully at him, but said nothing more. With this the two mercenaries became more and more restless, and finally the one guarding Marcus dropped his aim with a jerk and turned to Ramos. ?Is this true?? he asked. ?Is he telling the truth??

?It?s true,? said Indiana in Ramos ?s place. ?He didn?t come here for the gold. I think he knew all along it was impossible to remove it. He never intended for it to leave this valley.?

?You?re lying,? claimed the mercenary. His lips trembled, and fear had shadowed his eyes. ?That?s all rubbish. What?could possibly be dangerous about this gold? It?s gold! Gold is not poisonous.?

?This,? said Indiana with a gesture, pointing at the giant rock. He looked at the man attentively, into his face. Then looked at the man?s hands, then that of his comrades. ?You touched it, didn?t you??

?Touched what??

?The big chunk,? Indiana motioned with his head in the direction he was pointing. ?You touched it. Look at your hands.?

The mercenary slowly lifted his arms to get a closer look at his hands ? and became chalk white. His skin was reddened, like they had been burnt slightly.

?That?s not possible,? he stammered. ?It?s just gold. And?? he stared at Ramos. ?He touched it to. We all did! We will all die!?

?No,? said Indiana quietly. ?He?s already dead. He just doesn?t care.?

?It belongs to me, ? whispered Ramos. He didn?t seem to understand what Indiana was saying. ?it belongs to me. I paid for it. And now I am not giving I back.?

?You?you bastard!? stammered the mercenary. ?You have killed us all!? he cried, yanking the rifle up and pointing it directly at Ramos.

Indiana pushed the man from the side, staggering him and throwing the aim off. The shot dissolved into the air next to Ramos and buried itself harmlessly into the ground some distance away.

The second mercenary immediately brought his rifle up to point at Indiana, but before even coming fully to bear he dropped his aim again. The expression on his face was a mixture of horror and disbelief.

?It?it?s mine! It belongs to me,? stammered Ramos, repeating it over and over again. ?I have a right to it! I ? ? and suddenly he cried out, rushed over the mercenary who had questioned him, and with lightning-like movements yanked the rifle from his hands.
It was all too fast for Indiana to believe, much less react in a way other than throwing his arms around Marcus and diving to the ground. Ramos whirled the gun around, yelling like a madman, his finger holding the trigger back. A salvo of uncontrolled gunfire spat from the rifle, causing tiny gold geysers to explode from the ground, shattering the shimmering gold plants and terrain all around them. The two mercenaries were astonished as growing dark spots of blood erupted from all over them ? and they were dead before they hit the ground.

Indiana rolled and tried to get up on his hands and knees ? and froze suddenly when the barrel of Ramos?s gun pointed much closer to him. A terrible grimace had overtaken the face of the blind man. Saliva drooled from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, and a consuming fire burned in his eyes.

?It belongs to me!? he stammered. ?No one will take it from me! The gold is mine.?

?Be reasonable, Ramos!? Indiana pleaded. He licked his lips nervously as he shifted his position slightly, and froze again as Ramos?s aim narrowed menacingly closer to his position. The blind man seemed to have heard his movements; or did he have a more sinister method of singling out Indiana?s position? Indiana evaluated the chances he had of jumping forward and wrestling the gun from Ramos?s hands without being cut in two. He didn?t like the conclusion his mind had settled on.

?No one wants to take it from you, Ramos,? Indiana said again. ?But this gold will kill you. Don?t you understand that??

?You lie!? exclaimed Ramos. ?And even if you are right, it won?t be the gold that kills you. You will die right here. Right now.?

Indiana leapt forward with all of his strength, just as Ramos?s finger was tightening on the trigger again. And orange-red lance of fire spewed forth, rapidly getting closer to Indiana as he leapt, showering a swath of golden sparks inches behind Indiana?s current trajectory; exactly where he had just been crouching. Indiana suddenly realized he would not be able to get to Ramos fast enough.
But the deadly pain did not come. Unexpectedly the burst from Ramos?s gun cut off as the magazine emptied. And in the next instant Indiana was upon him, tearing the gun from his hands and throwing it off to the die. At the same time he hammered Ramos with all his strength; a mighty blow with his fist across the blind man?s chin.

Ramos didn?t even react to the pain. But he also did not try to fight back. He could not. He was dead. His eyes were wide open and rigid, and between his brows a tiny bloody hole had appeared.

Indiana was completely shocked. What had just happened? He spun around, completely confused, and was stunned at what he saw.

?What??

Marian stepped out of the golden jungle and stopped. She trembled. Her face was sweaty and pale, and her hands clenched the rifle she held so tightly that the skin stretched over her knuckled were white. Her gaze was empty with shock as well.

?It?s you!? whispered Indiana once more. He stepped forward and stretched out his hand in Marian?s direction ? and froze again when she suddenly snapped out of her shock and snapped the weapon up toward him.

?Stand still, Indy,? she said. ?Please stay where you are. Don?t come?too close to me.?

?What?what are you saying?? murmured Indiana, distraught. He tried to laugh but it misfired. ?It?s me, Marian ? Indiana!?

?Stand still,? said Marian once more. ?Don?t come near me, Indiana!? The barrel of her rifle straightened at his face, and her finger touched the trigger again.

Indiana obeyed, but more out of confusion than fear. He did not understand what was happening. ?Marian,? he murmured. ?What?what are you doing??

Marian?s lips began to tremble. The rifle swayed in her hand for a second, lowered, then straightened up again at Indiana. Then it finally fell away.

?Come with me,? she said quietly.
 
Part 60

Guided by Marian, Indiana, Marcus, and Marian circled the clearing, keeping the deadly golden meteor – or whatever it was – respectfully at some distance away.

They passed even more of the dead – two, three, and finally five of Stanley’s companions, who appeared to have died in the same horrific manner as the man they found on the trail some distance back. These five were only a few steps away from the edge of the golden crater, as if they had crawled their with the last of their strength. Perhaps they had finally realized it was the huge chunk of gold at the center of the clearing that had brought them death, and had tried to flee as far away as possible. Finally they found a man who was still alive. But he was unconscious and was feverish, suffering from the same burns all over his exposed body as everyone else. Indiana knew that any attempt to help him would be pointless. They positioned him carefully on a level place in the golden edge of the crater, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. And Marcus shared a little water from his field bottle. Then they continued on.

And finally they found Stanley Corda.

It was Marcus who discovered him – in a small naturally-formed alcove of golden bushes on the edge of the clearing, exactly on the opposite side of the large golden lump in the center that had drawn Ramos and his men to their deaths. Upon seeing him, Marcus touched Indiana on the arm and pointed to the small clearing with the other hand. At first Indiana wasn’t sure what Marcus was pointing at, but when he finally saw the disheveled man lying on the side of the gold-encrusted grass, Indiana rushed over to him without a word.

It was incredible – Corda was still alive. His eyes were open, and his chest lifted and lowered in fast, irregular strokes. He, too, was overtaken by the forces of death that were ready to claim him. His face was bloated and red, festering wounds covered his lips, and his hands were burned so terrible Indiana had trouble looking at them.

For several seconds, Indiana stood a short distance away, torn with horror and fear, motionless. He finally resolved himself and stepped next to the man and dropped down alongside him.

“Stan?”

Corda groaned. He tried to move, but obviously did not have the power to, so Indiana changed his position so Corda could see him without having to lift his head.

“Can you understand me?” Indiana asked.

Corda’s lips moved. He wanted to speak, but only an unarticulated groan escaped his mouth.

“Don’t say anything,” said Indiana. “I know.” He faltered. Why was it so difficult to find the right words when speaking to someone on the verge of death? “It…it will be all right,” he continued. “We’ll get Marian out of here. I promise you.”

Corda winced, using all of his power to speak. “Flee…Indiana. You must leave…quickly…it is…contaminated!”

“I know,” said Indiana, unsure if Corda understood what he was saying.

Corda’s body shivered as he reared up. “Don’t touch anything…” he groaned. “Especially the big piece…” With an almost unbelievable effort he raised his hand and pointed to an object in the grass next to him that Indiana had not noticed.
Indiana examined the object, and after a few seconds realized what it was: a Geiger counter. The model resembled the one Reuben had brought aboard the ship, but was considerably smaller and more compact.

“Switch…it on,” groaned Corda.

Indiana obeyed. On the front of the small box, a pointer began to bounce over a scale, and a penetrating chatter filled the air.

“You…” groaned Corda. “And Mar…cus.”

Indiana directed the device, first at him then at Marcus Brody. The needle struck out, but not very far.

“Where…is the needle?” whispered Stan.

“Three,” answered Indiana. “A little higher.”

“Then you have…a chance,” groaned Corda. “You must go…quickly. Two…hours…”

“He’s right, Indy,” said Marcus nervously. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve been here far too long already.”

Indiana nodded, but still did not move yet. He raised his head and looked up at Marcus, then over at Marian.
And when he looked into her face, he finally understood everything.

Marian’s eyes were veiled. She looked at him, but her gaze seemed to burn right though him, and her features were overcome with a surging pain, which Indiana would remember for the rest of his life. Tears boiled and ran down her face; she was crying without even realizing it. Her fingers stroked the gun incessantly, fondly caressing the barrel of the rifle in her hands. “I can’t do it,” she whispered.

Indiana wanted to say something, but his throat had suddenly closed off the words. He realized now what the Aymará chief had meant when he said Marian had not betrayed him, not for a second.

“I cannot do it,” said Marian once more, with a thin broken voice. “I…I came here to kill him, Indy. But I can’t.”

Indiana was still wordless, not able to say anything. Without answering, he stood up, stepped next to Marian, and gently grabbed the rifle and took it from her hands. Her gaze followed the gun, and suddenly she smiled sadly and said for the third time, “I can’t do it Indy. I…I came here to kill him, and now I don’t have the strength to do it. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Indiana gently played the rifle on the ground, glancing at the dying figure as he did so, then turned back and stretched his hand out to Marian. She shook her head. Indiana continued toward her, simply wanting to pull her to him, but she pushed his arm aside. “Leave me,” she said. “Go, Indiana. Maybe it’s not too late for you. Leave me here with him.”

“He’s not worth it, Marian,” said Indiana gently. “It’s not worth it for you to commit a murder, and certainly not worth it to die with him.” He understood why Marian was here, the feelings and emotions she must be feeling, tearing her up inside. He even understood her rationale to join up with Ramos to fin Stanley. But he had not understood she now insisted on staying.

“Come,” he said once more, this time a little more forceful. “We have to get out of here. This place is killing us.” He pointed to the large chunk of gold in the distance.

Marian’s gaze followed his finger, resting for a moment on the shimmering chunk of yellow metal, then returned to the figure of her dying husband. “I wanted to kill him, Indiana,” she whispered again, as if he hadn’t heard her before. “He stole my life. He beat me and humiliated me and forced me into a life I never wanted. And in the end, he killed me. I was going to kill him. I thought I’d come here and finish it. And now I can’t. And do you know why? Because, in spite of everything I still love him. Isn’t that crazy?”

Something she had just revealed alarmed Indiana. “What do you mean, he killed you?” asked Indiana urgently.

Marian stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly lifted her hands and gently stroked her hair. When she withdrew her fingers he saw a clump of detached hair in them.

“I…I lied to you, Indy,” she said. “I have known all along what he had found. He told me after he came back. And he brought me something. A piece of jewelry.” She unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse.

“No,” Indiana groaned as he saw the skin underneath.

Between her breasts were the outlines of an oak leaf, burnt red and inflamed into her skin. The ornament was no longer there, but it had left its mark: raw , inflamed flesh had emerged.

“My god, Marian!” whispered Indiana “I didn’t know that…why didn’t you say anything? Maybe…maybe we could have done something…” His voice faltered. A bitter lump sat in his throat, and he felt more helpless than he had ever felt before in his life.

“It was such a beautiful gift,” murmured Marian. “I have never seen such a beautiful thing before. And he seemed so changed. He was a completely different person, Indiana. We had reconciled ourselves, really come together for the first time in our relationship. He wasn’t just saying things like before. I felt he really meant it. That he was honest about wanting to be a new person. And he said he just had one more journey before we could start our new life.” She smiled bitterly. “He promised me we’d live in a house of gold here.”

But now it would be their tomb, thought Indiana. He fought back the tears that were forming in his eyes as he looked again at the dreadful mark on Marian’s breast. He knew it was deadly. It was probably a miracle she had made it this long. But he pleaded again. “Come with us, Marian. We…will find a doctor. An expert in radiation poisoning. It’s not too late yet.”

Marian did not hear his words at all. Though tears were still running down her face, she suddenly smiled and turned around, bent over her unconscious husband and touched his shattered face gently with her fingertips, staring deeply into his hollow eyes.

After a moment, Indiana quietly stood, stepped two or three steps back from Marian and Stanley, then turned silently and headed back toward the edge of the forest without a single word. Marcus, who had been impatiently waiting for the three of them to leave, resolved that they would be one short and quickly followed Indiana. They continued through the crater’s golden forest in silence, finally making their way back to the fog-encased trail, plunging into its shadows and leaving it behind them. Finally, the golden terrain faded, slowly replaced by natural rocks and vegetation of the jungle trail. They stopped for a second and glanced back, seeing nothing but the devouring fog that had guarded the mystery of El Dorado for more than fifty million years like a faithful paladin of the gods. They prayed it would do so for another fifty million years. Maybe until the end of the humanity and the world.
 
Part 61

Epilogue
Three days later


Indiana and Marcus reached river at the last light of the sun, and were overjoyed at the sight of the rapids, whose monotonous roar had guided them during the last hours. The hull of the capsized boat still towered out of the water like the back of a giant silver fish, and on the shore nearby Indiana saw a number of tiny figures crowded about a blazing fire; seven or eight, most of them wrapped in ragged green-brown camouflaged suits, but two of them in khaki-colored tropical uniforms that now looked oddly inappropriate to Indiana. To his surprise, he also recognized Henley moving among the group. He had obviously recovered from his ailments much quicker than expected; or the Aymará had brought him here in a different manner than the rest to have gotten this far so quickly.

Indiana was exhausted. He barely remembered leaving the valley, and perhaps for the first time since they had known each other it had been Marcus who had to help him along, not the other way around. Two or three times the thick fog had revealed a shadow moving though it?s gray infinity, and once they heard a bloodcurdling scream but saw nothing. They had seen no one else, either on the mountain or later in the jungle, during their journey, but he knew they hadn?t been alone. One morning they had awoken and found a bowl of fresh water and fried fish next to them, and they had always had the uneasy feeling of being watched since they had left the crater.

It had been the worst three days of his life. The pain of Marian?s death had brought ? to his astonishment ? a deep, grieving regret, and caused him to explore his feelings for her which she would now never know or understand.

Stanley?s curse had overcome them, and they were exhausted and feverish on the first night. Both of them had been hit with bouts of chills and nausea, and they feared the curse had gotten the best of them; that they might not be able to shake it. The next morning they had both been do drained and exhausted they felt as if they had travelled twenty miles through the jungle even though it could not have been more than a few.

But they soon became better. They had bathed in a small river near the jungle trail, and Indiana now hoped they had not been exposed to the deadly radiation long enough to sustain permanent sickness or health problems, and the bath in the river he hoped had gotten rid of whatever lingering radiation material they might have picked up. All in all, they had spent two hours in the forbidden valley ? and they had not touched the huge chunk that had been the source of the radiation, as Ramos and his people had done. He wondered if any of Ramos?s men were still alive. He presumed they were probably all dead by now.
Some of the figures at the fire looked up as they heard Indiana and Marcus?s footsteps. They were greeted with surprised shouts, and when they had reached the edge of the riverbank Reuben rushed over to greet them. A moment later, Henley followed, limping and grimacing, but apparently almost in full possession of his strength again. The healing magic of the Aymará seemed to have done wonders.

?Jones! Brody!? Reuben called out in joyous surprise as he reached Indiana and Marcus. ?Thanks God both of you are alive!? A puzzled expression spread across his face, and Indiana could see how tired and exhausted the FBI agent was. ?Where did you come from?? He mumbled. ?What?what about Ramos and his men? How did you escape them??

?Ramos is dead,? Marcus answered. ?He and all of his men. And I would be too, if it hadn?t been for Indiana.?

?And Mrs. Corda??

Indiana shook his head. ?No. We are the only ones who made it,? he said softly.

?I?I?m sorry,? Reuben said softly. The regret in his voice seemed sincere. ?But tell me, Jones ? What the hell happened? How did you get away from Ramos and his gang.?

Indiana hesitated. For a moment he stared in uncertainty at Reuben and Henley, then looked at the over turned boat in the river for a while, without answering.

Reuben followed his gaze and his expression darkened. ?We were damned lucky, Jones,? he said, answering a question Indiana had not asked. ?The boat broke lose and got sucked in by the current. I tell you ? it was one helluva hell ride. It?s a miracle that none of us were killed.? He sighed. ?But I?m afraid we won?t get very far with this ship.?

Indiana registered Marcus?s warning gaze at the last moment and swallowed the startled response that lay on his tongue. ?Well, it?s a setback, but we don?t need it,? he said instead. He forced a smile. ?The return journey will be hard on foot, but it?s doable.?

?Don?t need it?? Rueben frowned. ?What do you mean? Its?? he paused. ?You found El Dorado?? He asked, stunned. ?It?s there??

Indiana hesitated again. It was obvious Reuben?s memory of the last few days was sketchy from the trials they had endured, or possibly the mysterious power of the Aymará chief had affected them. And not just him, he could see the veil of confusion in Henley?s eyes as well, and assumed the rest had the same malady. He was unsure as to why the old man had allowed him and Marcus to keep theirs.

?Yes,? Indiana said finally. ?We were there. It?s actually not very far from here.?

?Where is it?? Henley asked excitedly. ?And what is it? Does El Dorado actually exist, Jones??

Indiana shook his head. ?No, I?m afraid it?s just a legend, Henley. No gold. Nothing that would be of any interest.? He said, then added with finality. ?To anyone in the world.?

While Henley and Reuben looked at him in disappointment, Indiana turned back to look at the edge of the jungle behind him. Again, he had the feeling of being watched, and this time it was too intense to dismiss it as imagination.
And for a second, he thought he saw a figure, maybe just the shadow of a figure, small and slim, and very old, who looked at him for a moment, then raised his hand in a parting gesture, acknowledging that they would probably never see each other again. Then the shadowy figure disappeared into the forest again.

?It?s just a legend,? he said, turning back to his companions. ?Nothing more.?

THE END
 
Fin. That's It.

Thanks everyone, and sorry it took this many YEARS to finish. But now it's done. And thanks to all those that helped out (JuniorJones). nrd1977 also offered to help this summer, but I managed to finish it. Maybe he'll take up the mantle and tackle another one of these hidden gems.

There are at least a dozen of the Hohlbein Indiana Jones novels floating around out there. As far as I know, none have been officially translated to English. (One has an unofficial translation, mentioned below.)

Doing the translation, I have found GOOGLE translate to be the best free tool to translate from German to English if anyone else decides to attempt one of the remaining novels. Good luck!

The only other English translation of a Hohlbein Indiana Jones novel can be found somewhere in these boards - Indiana Jones and the Labyrinth of Horus. If you haven't done so, seek it out.
 

bladerunner13

New member
Thanks for all your hard work...

I wanted to thank both punisher5150 and JuniorJones for their hard work on this.

I've tried to compile a PDF of their work...

I do have one question - were their chapters (as in you posted sections in chapters or were their just dates separating the sections)?

Thanks and enjoy...

https://www.sendspace.com/file/qohu8z
 
Chapters

bladerunner13 said:
I wanted to thank both punisher5150 and JuniorJones for their hard work on this.

I've tried to compile a PDF of their work...

I do have one question - were their chapters (as in you posted sections in chapters or were their just dates separating the sections)?

Thanks and enjoy...

https://www.sendspace.com/file/qohu8z

No only the dates separated the sections. The numbers were the way I broke the material out to be kind of episodic (and to assist me with the character limitation of the message board).


The chapters are as follows:

March 1943
Someplace in South America

June 12th, 1943
New York

14 June 1943

19 June 1943
La Paz, Bolivia

21 June 1943 • Rio Mamore
120 miles northeast from Trinidad

22 June 1943
In the village of Aymará

An Hour Later
Northwards: Up the River

24th or 25th June 1944
Somewhere in the rainforest

The next morning
One hour before sunrise

El Dorado

Epilogue

BTW PM me if you can. I can save you a lot of time on what you are trying do with a formatted pdf with cover.
 
Last edited:
I can try putting one together myself, since I have the german version of this (I still speak some german after all these years.) Feel free to PM me if interested. And thank you for all the work in translating this!
 
PDF and ebook at the following location.

These are updated files with proper credit to JuniorJones. One contains the original pdf compilation with JuniorJones properly credited on the cover art (NOTE: JuniorJones's sections were re-edited to maintain the same writing style throughout, so the text may not match sections 14 - 34 of this forum exactly). The other is the RetroBooks release version which is much cleaner. There were about 40 pages of duplicated text (June 14 chapter was completely duplicated in the original RetroBooks release.) I have removed the duplicate chapter and pages, and edited the Translated by Bryan Carter to add "w/JuniorJones."
 
Top