Free Skorpio by Mike Baron

fees.
    Carefully Beadles edged along the counter, grabbed the Scotch and returned to his seat while the lasagna pirouetted in the microwave. Time to think about a new career.
    "You want fries with that?" he said. Just trying it out. If the university fired him for cause they were still required to pay three months' salary.
    If he could prove someone planted that pot, he could sue them. But if it was only Stephanie Byrd there would be nothing to collect. If, on the other hand, it had been Professor Liggett, he could sue the university.
    For millions.
    Enough to fund an expedition to find the Azuma stronghold, the sweetest vindication of them all.
    "This is what I do," he said to the room.
    The microwave dinged. He let it sit.
    He needed to prove his thesis. It was as simple as that. He'd been carrying it with him since undergrad days, since he first stumbled upon an obscure 16th century Spanish text. The diary had allegedly been discovered by a Benedictine monk in a mountain cave in Arizona in the 19th century. He turned it over to the Vatican which in turn sent it to the library in Seville.
    The Diary began with Don Felipe's birth and upbringing in a small town in Catalonia to his volunteering to travel to the New Land.
    Beadles learned of Don Felipe Balmora's diary at the New York Public Library which had one of two known print copies, the other in a museum in Seville. In 1894, a volunteer polymath named Edgar Saucier translated Balmora's diary and issued twelve leather-bound copies. Eleven disappeared without a trace. The New York Public Library had the twelfth.
    ***

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    "Don Felipe Balmora"
    May 5, 1540. Under glorious blue skies and through the grace of God Almighty who shines His Fortune upon us today we set sail from Compostela in New Spain in four stout caravels in search of the Seven Cities of Cibola under the guidance of Governor Coronado.

    May 19. Blessed with Divine Guidance and good winds we have made landfall. All our horses and men survived, thanks be to Almighty God. Governor Coronado has made friends with the local Indians who are called Zuni.

    May 20. Governor Coronado has agreed to Captain Lopez deGama's request for a small expedition to cut into the mountains northeast of us to search for the Seven Cities of Cibola. Captain deGama has chosen me to be his lieutenant. We leave in the morning. I pray to God Almighty that I may perform my duties to His satisfaction, and to the satisfaction of Captain DeGama and our King.

    May 27. By the Grace of God Almighty, we have left behind the friendly Zuni and turned away from the river. The Indians run in fear from us. We must present a very strange breed to them--they have never seen horses before and some of them believe man and beast to be one. We have traversed twenty-five miles of the most desolate terrain, filled with poisonous vipers that will announce their imminent attack by rattling a series of calcified rings surrounding their tails. These are called rattlesnakes. One such viper bit Paulo Vatine's horse which went mad, broke its leg and had to be put down. Captain deGama sent Vatine back on foot. We pray for our brother's safe return.
    There are also venomous arachnids similar to those found throughout the Holy Land. There is nothing in this dessicated land, it seems, that does not bite, sting, or poison you to death.
    I would write more often but long days in the saddle and the work of finding water and setting camp is exhausting. A rare storm blew over this afternoon, bringing much needed water into gulches and arroyos, thanks to God Almighty.

    May 28. We have entered an eerie landscape. Fierce winds tear down hills in one place and deposit them in another. The Indians call these "walking hills." We see mountains in the distance and many shimmering mirages but there is no water to be found. Captain deGama scans the skies with his glass upon the hour searching for buzzards or a speck of green. He is a skilled cartographer and makes