The Astronomer

by Charmaine Pauls

  Emilio went through Fraya’s flat, going through the drawers and cupboards, looking for clues, for maps, for anything that would lead him another step closer to her. All he found were the reports she had been working on that gave the location of the so-called lost Peruvian city, but that he had already gotten from Saunders. He started to feel despondent. Her abductors hadn’t yet contacted anyone to ask for ransom, which meant that maybe that had not been the reason for her kidnapping. A motive eluded the police and her colleagues.

  Emilio had gone over the details in his mind. Andrews had requested her presence, as they were unsuccessful in locating the site. On the way to the meeting point Fraya’s rented car was ambushed and Fraya taken. Stix and Tanson had rented a vehicle as soon as they had arrived back in Ollantaytambo and drove out to the coordinates provided by Andrews, but when they got there, the camp site was empty, except for two men who were packing up the last of the equipment, and they said that Fraya had never arrived, so Andrews had decided to move on. Welser had said that they’d do everything in their power to aid in her rescue, but he refused to pay for a helicopter to circle the mountain where Andrews were supposedly tracking at this very moment. His reason was weak, claiming that they were in contact with Andrews and wouldn’t waste resources searching an area where they already knew Fraya couldn’t be. Instead, they laid the blame on some reclusive tribe, and the police stated that their team couldn’t find any tracks. There was something off about the story. Emilio had never liked Andrews and he didn’t trust the man. It felt like Welser, too, was withholding information.

  When the doorbell rang, Emilio was shaken from his thoughts. His hand froze on the knob, knowing he was to meet his daughter for the first time. Nothing could have prepared him for the onslaught of emotions as he opened the door wide to see the social worker stand on the landing with a girl in her arms. She was beautiful, perfect, just like her mother, regarding him with big eyes.

  Without a word he stepped aside to let them in, watching the little person in awe. He wanted to reach out, but he wasn’t sure how the child would react. The social worker spoke first.

  “Mr. Larraín, meet Olivia,” she said, putting the girl down.

  He went down on his haunches. “Olivia,” he said, touching the curls that framed her delicate features. She was petite like her mom, with huge, expressive eyes. Suddenly Fraya’s dark chocolate eyes haunted him.

  The social worker handed him an ePad key. “Here are the documents we need your thumbprint on. You can contact me any time you need assistance. In the meantime, I’ll let you get acquainted with your daughter. Are you sure you’ll manage on your own? I could still call for a nurse to assist you with Olivia.”

  “I have a son, Mrs. López. I’m not uneducated regarding the care of children. We’ll be fine, thank you.”

  Emilio listened as Mrs. López explained Olivia’s schedule, his eyes on his daughter. Finally the social worker took her leave, and he was alone with his girl.

  “You look just like your mother,” he said, emotion making his voice thick.

  He wanted nothing more than to spend time with her. Later, he told himself. He had contacted the childcare facility and spoke to a woman named Jenny, who had offered her services in helping to take care of Olivia. He had agreed, knowing that Olivia was familiar with the caretaker. He checked his watch. Gene would be landing shortly. He had little time.

  Emilio dropped Olivia off at Jenny’s house, who assured him that she would take good care of his daughter. She seemed as shaken as he was about the news of Fraya’s disappearance. Jenny told him how shocked she was when the social worker had contacted her to make arrangements for Olivia’s new guardian to collect her. He had told her of his intention to search for Fraya, and Jenny had understood the importance of no one knowing about his secret mission. Emilio had some connections in Zone 78, but not powerful enough ones to get him permission to trespass on their jurisdiction. She asked if she needed to feed Al Shain, as she had been doing in Fraya’s absence, and he declined, saying that it wouldn’t be necessary.

  Scarcely an hour later Emilio was on his way back to the zone station with the rented four-by-four and the equipment he had picked up, armed with electronic maps and satellite photos. He had requested satellite assistance from Welser, who had denied it with another feeble excuse, and that raised Emilio’s suspicions even further. He had a feeling that Andrews had something to do with it, although he couldn’t justify it. Somehow, instinctively, he knew if he found Andrews, he’d find his mate.

  Gene was waiting in front of the pick-up zone. When Emilio parked, he got into the car, eyeing the rubber duck secured to the roof rack. For a while they traveled in a stressed silence, until Gene broke it by saying, “What are you up to, buddy?”

  Emilio steered the vehicle towards Machu Picchu and glanced at his passenger. “All I have is her coordinates of the site. Welser claimed Hart Andrews, head of the expedition, never found it, but that’s where we’re headed.”

  “And you think she’ll be there?”

  “I’ve got nothing else to go on,” Emilio said, the strain coming through in his voice.

  “And when we get there?”

  “I need to find the team and question Andrews.”

  “And if this Andrews knows something, do you believe he’ll tell you?”

  “I don’t trust him. He may know something, or nothing.”

  “But how will you know if she’s there?”

  Emilio glanced over his shoulder at the falcon that sat on the backseat in his cage. “Al will show me.”

  Gene shook his head. “You better know what you’re doing. We could get arrested for this. And this isn’t Zone 30 or 102 where we’ll be detained or fined. This is wild country. Crazy, old-world country. Our heads can roll for this. As in chopped off. Literally.”

  “I know,” Emilio said tightly.

  “I’m sorry that Fraya left you,” Gene said awkwardly.

  “Why would you be? It’s not your fault.”

  “If I hadn’t crashed your party...”

  “She didn’t leave because of that, Gene. She left because I had a son and his mother gave me an ultimatum. I had to choose between Fraya or my child.”

  “Holy fuck. And you chose your son above Fraya?”

  Emilio shot Gene another cutting look. “Never. I asked her to choose, her job or me. At the time I thought she chose her job, but now I know better. She left giving me a chance to be with my son.”

  “Shit. That’s a mean deal, man.”

  For a while they drove in silence.

  “Is all that mating stuff really true?” Gene said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry man.”

  “Thanks.”

  “If I had known at the time...”

  “Forget about it. It’s over. It’s in the past.”

  “I had no right to be mad at you. You were right. I loved Fraya like a sister. You had all the reason in the world to hate me.”

  “Not me, Fraya. She’s the one who had been done in, by both of us.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  “Of course I fucking do.”

  Gene nodded. “Good. I’m happy for you. I hope we’ll find her.”

  Emilio started straight ahead. “We will.”

  Two hours later they parked at the edge of a broad river that cut through a deep valley and ran around a needle pointed mountain. It looked very similar to Devil’s Needle in Zone 35.

  Emilio got out to inspect the terrain and Gene joined him.

  “People have camped here,” Gene said.

  Emilio nodded in agreement. His gaze went up the mountain that was covered in clouds. He pulled the map pad through the passenger window of the vehicle and studied it, glancing back at the cliff.

  “This is it,” Emilio said, “according to Fraya’s coordinates.”

  Gene looked around. “Where?” He followed Emilio’s eyes and then his widened. “No fucking ways, man. I’m no boy scout, b
ut I can tell you right now there’s no way up there.”

  Emilio narrowed his eyes. “Look at the plants over there.” He pointed to the foot of the mountain. “They’ve been flattened.”

  Emilio made his way to the foot of the mountain with Gene in tow.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” Emilio said, “this is the beginning of a path.”

  Gene craned his neck and shook his head. “If it is one, it’s well hidden. Looks as if it’s not meant to be found. I don’t like the look of this. Besides, it would take a day to hike all the way to the top, given that there is indeed a path.”

  Emilio walked back to the vehicle to look at the area from a distance. He pointed at the map. “It will be quicker to go up the shortest side, from the back.”

  Gene peered over his shoulder. “That’s a sheer fucking cliff, man.”

  “It’ll be faster.”

  “You could fall to your death.”

  “I don’t see another way. Besides, I’ve done Devil’s Needle. This can’t be worse.”

  Gene looked at the equipment on the backseat. “That’s why you brought all of that, isn’t it? You knew from the start this is what you were going to do.”

  “I need you to wait for me on the ground–”

  “No. No. Oh no. You’re crazy. Even you can’t do that. That’s not your average rock.”

  “I’m going up with a harness. If we come down, it may have to be fast. If needed, we’ll bungee. I’ve worked out the length of the rope according to the drop of the cliff, taking my and Fraya’s weight into account for the stretch. I won’t be able to test my calculation if we need to jump, or if we fall, but we’ll bungee into the river, just to be on the safe side. I need you to wait for us, to act as our pick-up.”

  Gene took a step back and held up his hands. “You don’t even know she’s up there, or that anyone is up there, for that matter. This is a suicide mission.”

  “Welser refused to ask the Peruvian government for satellite coverage of the terrain. That can only mean he’s hiding something. I’m willing to bet my life that Andrews is up there. And if he is, she may be. And I have a feeling her life is in danger.”

  “I’m not helping you to kill yourself, buddy.”

  “It’s my only chance. Besides, Al will show us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bird is well trained. If Fraya is up there, he’ll find her.”

  “We won’t even see him through the clouds.”

  “You have to let him go when I’m near the top.”

  “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Come on,” Emilio said, “I’ve got four hours of daylight left. Help me get the gear.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The following morning Fraya was led down a narrow cobblestone street to the big house with the tree, where the chief sat, surrounded by women. Whatever Mia had given her to drink the night before had knocked her out. She still felt groggy as she was made to sit on a low stool inside the dwelling while two young girls produced a short, white tunic with elaborate embroidery. Some others started brushing her hair. Fragrant smoke filled the dark space and a fire was burning in the corner, making the stone house warm, but not hot.

  Jonas came through the door, carrying a wooden bowl with milk, which he left on a slab of rock near Fraya’s hand.

  “I’ve brought you breakfast,” he said. He turned and motioned with his hand, after which a procession of women followed with bowls of fruit, grilled meat and maize porridge.

  “Fattening the slaughter sheep?” Fraya said coldly.

  “Eat,” he said. “The village is preparing for the feast, and you may as well enjoy their offerings.”

  He left quietly, saying something to the women Fraya did not understand. The village was buzzing with preparations. Fraya seemed strangely detached as she walked to the entrance of the hut, watching the commotion through the limited scope of the narrow doorway. The guards blocked her way, but she had no intention of venturing forward. She was trying hard to understand how she had gotten herself into the mess she was in. Everything inside her was focused on escape, yet, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

  Drumbeats started filling the village in the afternoon and the smell of fires and spitted lamb drifted on the air. She heard the footsteps approach, but Jonas still startled her when he bent his head to enter through the low doorway. Fraya came to her feet, watching him warily. He removed a leather pouch that hung on a string around his neck and thrust it at her.

  “This will help,” he said. “Drink it.”

  “Help for what?” Fraya said, taking a step back.

  “For what’s to follow,” he said, not meeting her gaze.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Herbs. It will dull your senses.”

  “No,” Fraya shook her head. “I won’t take your charity.”

  He stood like that for another minute, his arm outstretched, before he lowered the pouch.

  “It’s time.” He took her arm and moved her toward the door.

  Fraya fought him, but his grip merely tightened. “There’s no escaping your destiny. It would be unwise to fight it.”

  “And your destiny is to commit murder?”

  Instead of answering, he pushed her into the narrow street and in the direction of the pyramid.

  * * * *

  Emilio hammered the last peg into the rock. He tied the rope through the loophole, giving it a firm pluck to test it. Looking down, he saw the boat on the river. From the top of the cliff where he was now, the boat was a tiny detail. He couldn’t make out anything more than the shape of the rubber duck from that distance, but he knew Gene would be waiting inside. Shifting his hold to free one hand from where he held onto the ledge, he took the pocket torch from his vest and gave the agreed signal so Gene would know to let Al free. Emilio prayed that his plan would work, that the bird would find his mistress and give him an indication of which direction he needed to move in. Only a few more paces, and he would be at the top. He was certain that Fraya was there, somewhere. He could feel her presence like a physical touch, but he could also smell smoke and hear the far-off beat of drums.

  His breath burned in his lungs. His body was exhausted. He had been climbing for hours, and he couldn’t stop for a second. Trying to keep his gaze trained on the rubber duck lying motionless on the river beyond, he wiped away the sweat that made his eyes burn. Right on cue, he saw Al rising from the valley beyond, taking flight and soaring to the cliffs.

  The raptor took a turn to the east, drifted on the wind for a while, his wings outstretched, before cutting a wide circle over the terrain. The bird would not go hunting. They had fed him well. His training should take over, driving him to find his owner. This is what Emilio bargained on. It was a gamble, an arrow shot into a vast jungle with a moving mouse as target, but it was all he had, all he could think of concocting with the little time he had for making preparations.

  For a moment Emilio panicked as the falcon moved to the west, far away, and disappeared behind a mountaintop. Within a minute it reappeared, higher this time, flying in the opposite direction. When Al was close to where Emilio were, he dipped again, dived toward the valley and then continued his upward exploration, soaring over the cliff top. It was a good thing the bird was used to the high altitudes of the Atacama Desert. A few feet from where Emilio hung on the side of the cliff, Al started circling. He made three large circles before he uttered a cry and dove down sharply.

  Emilio moved as fast as he could without risking a fall that would crush him to a pulp. As he lifted his body over the last boulder that separated him from the summit, he saw a wall of rock rising from the green grass into the flimsiness of the clouds. It looked like the cap of a small pyramid. And then his mouth dropped open. Fraya had been right, after all. She did it! She had found it. There was a village. The only thing his confused mind couldn’t get around was the people he could see and the activities that followed. It wasn’t an abandoned site. The place was crawl
ing with inhabitants, villagers preparing for some kind of feast. He went cold as he saw the flowers draped over the stone steps. They were preparing for a sacrifice ceremony. A human sacrifice.

  * * * *

  Fraya’s hands and feet were tied with ropes to an X-shaped cross placed against the pyramid. A line of priests stood on the highest step of the pyramid, armed with bows and arrows. She felt her body trembling as Jonas pulled at the ropes, testing their hold. The priest with the caked hair and smeared face stood in front of her, rattling some pebbles in a dried-out gourd while young girls and men danced in the square below to the beat of the drums. Andrews stood next to the priest, a little to the side. His gaze was fixed on the spectators below.

  Fraya turned her head to face Andrews, perspiration dampening her brow.

  “This is murder, Hart,” she said above the noise of the drums and the human chanting.

  He didn’t interrupt his focus to look at her. “You’re a sacrifice, Fraya, a price that needs to be paid.”

  “For gold,” she bit out, “gold that belongs in a museum. Why would you do this?”

  He regarded her for the first time. There was a gleam of excitement reflected in the shine of his eyes. “Gold is a powerful thing, Fraya. More powerful than points or politics.”

  “You never cared for this find. You only cared for the gold.”

  “Ah, finally you have me all figured out.”

  Jonas took a wreath of flowers and placed it on her head.

  “For years I’ve harvested treasures for our government,” Andrews said, “and what do I have to show for it? A measly point account and some honorary credit. Those days are over. I’m taking my due.”

  “And Welser’s part in all of this? Are you splitting the profits? Is that why he was so eager to support me?”

  “Well perceived,” Andrews said, “only, by the time he finds out that I’ve disappeared with the gold, all of it, it’ll be too late to start looking. He’ll never find me.” He pointed to his ear, and Fraya saw that his chip had been removed, only a fresh scar marking the upper part.