The Xactilias Project

by RJ Lawrence

  "Without supplies to risk wandering the jungle on a rumor, the Spanish general selected 100 conquistadors to find the city and subdue its inhabitants, at which point, scouts would return to invite the remaining troops along. So one morning they gathered their rations and set out in search of this city, despite the warnings from the local natives, who claimed all would be transformed into solid gold the moment they drew their weapons.

  "Months passed without any sign of the scouts, and after a year's time, the general assumed the company of 100 dead. Vexed by the mystery surrounding his missing conquistadors and still fixated on the prospect of a city with such astonishing wealth, the general himself gathered a mass of 500 conquistadors and set out into the Amazonian rain forest on the trail of the missing Spanish soldiers.

  "For weeks they made the hard journey through the jungle, suffering all brands of hardship along the way. Nearly a quarter of the company fell ill with malaria and either died quickly or were left behind at makeshift camps where they inevitably died all the same. Finally, after three months, the general and his conquistadors stumbled upon the first sign of civilization. It was a statue entangled with green vines and it lay flat upon the jungle floor. After stripping away the vegetation, the men realized the statue was crafted of solid gold, but it was not this that gave them pause. For the figure depicted a man in the midst of great suffering, with a whaling mouth and eyes made wide from terror.

  "That night, they made camp near the gold statue, and while the general and his commanders drew strategies, grumbling spread evenly among the soldiers, who spoke openly about the possibility that the statue might once have lived as a fleshly man. Aware of fear's propensity for conjuring mutiny, the general immediately ordered such talk forbidden and cemented this command by violently executing the first man to break it.

  "Over the next several days, the Spaniards pressed ahead, and as they did, they continued to encounter more and more gold statues. Like the first, these also depicted humans, their bodies contorted in obvious misery, faces wild with torment and anguish. And with each discovery, the soldiers grew increasingly fretful. And in that alien territory, a powerful uneasiness settled among the whole of the company, so that even the general began to entertain the notion of abandoning the quest and returning with a few of the statues in tow as validation of his efforts.

  "And then the company stumbled upon such a terrifying sight, all fell mute before it. For situated within the jungle flora all around them were brightly gleaming golden statues depicting the missing conquistadors who had come before them. As if concussed by such a vision, some of the soldiers fell to their knees, while others cried out with crazed language about gods, curses and evil spirits. As the dread and terror slurked its way through the company, a chaos ensued and when the commanders fought to regain order, some of the soldiers broke ranks and raised their swords and gunpowder weapons against them. Finally, at the behest of his commanders, the general agreed to abandon his quest and the Spaniards turned away, fleeing the jungle in favor of the eastern shores.

  "When they finally arrived, the soldiers spread word of the augury they'd encountered, and soon all agreed the jungle played host to such devilry, all future expeditions should be planned carefully to avoid the territory surrounding the city of gold. And so it went for 100 years.

  "But devilry and magic had played no role in the story at all. In actuality, the Europeans had fallen prey to a grand lie. When the original company of 100 Spaniards first encountered the human statues, they too contemplated retreat, but abandoned such thought for fear of execution at the order of their general. So despite their unease, the men pressed forward. A week later, they finally breached the jungle and their eyes fell upon the city, its perimeter without walls, or sentries, women tending gardens, children running and playing freely about.

  "Driven mad by anxiety, the conquistadors fell upon the inhabitants, slashing with their swords and firing pistols into the backs of the fleeing natives. Without obstruction or intervention, they killed and looted, as the natives' simple weapons glanced off the Spaniards’ thick armored breastplates.

  "At last, the city's warriors gathered in great masses and engaged the conquistadors, firing arrows into their necks and overwhelming them with greater numbers. Still, against such superior armor and weaponry, the city's inhabitants endured countless casualties, and as they slayed the last of the strange raiders, the sad and victorious natives looked about to see the vast majority of their brothers and sisters bleeding in the streets.

  "Over the next several days, the natives mourned their losses and cleared the dead. But even as they tended to these sorrowful duties, their chiefdom drew plans to evade what all agreed to be an inevitable second wave of white marauders.

  "And so, the chiefdom decided to tap the city's greatest resources to invest in a cunning subterfuge. For indeed these natives were extraordinarily rich in gold, and though its warriors were few, the city played host to an exceptional community of artisans, who spent the next year meticulously crafting gold statues to depict the Spanish conquistadors, and these they placed about the jungle to act as silent wards that would conjure such panic as to exceed the lust and ambition of the white men, who did indeed flee and remain absent for 100 years’ time."

  At last, she stopped talking. She put the cigarette to her lips and lit it with a fresh match. She drew from it and exhaled a fresh fog of smoke.

  "What was the point?" Claire asked. "I mean, what was his point?"

  Karen shrugged.

  "To coerce the soldiers away from fighting one another? To bask in their admiration? Who's to say why he does any of the things he does?" She smoked and shook her head and looked into Claire's eyes. "But I would suggest he does few things without reason."

  They both drank from their glasses and then Karen continued.

  "Anyway, the next day, we moved on, weaving through the jungle for many miles until we finally came to some sort of little village. Demetri ordered us off the trucks and told us to wait while the soldiers rounded up subjects by gunpoint. These were men and women, confused and terrified. Some ran. These they shot in the back."

  She stopped for a moment, her face showing sickness but her eyes devoid of tears, as if there were simply no more to give for this particular memory.

  "We took their vitals, looked them over, paying special attention for disease of any sort. After a few hours, the fit ones were forced onto the trucks with their hands bound. The rest were set free and the soldiers proceeded to order all the village's 100 or so inhabitants back inside their huts. At that point, we took our seats on the trucks and watched as the soldiers unloaded fuel canisters, which they emptied throughout the village."

  Claire put her hand over her mouth, while Karen smoked and exhaled.

  "Then Demetri ordered the men to set fire to the entire village and that's exactly what they did. And, when the natives fled the fires, the soldiers picked them off one by one with their rifles until they were all dead. And, then they drove us all back to this place and told us never to speak of what we saw."

  Claire wiped tears from her eyes. She put her hand on Karen's shoulder.

  "The ones you took, Karen. Are they the test subjects? Are they the people in Level Four?"

  Karen shrugged.

  "I don't know. Probably. Yes, I think so."

  She put her hand over the top of Claire's.

  "I've never been to Level Four. How can I say who is or isn't there? Is Krystoph sitting in a bar somewhere drinking sherry and talking with his colleagues? Or, is he down there too? When my term is finally over, will I really go home?" She leaned closer. "Will you?"

  Claire sat back in her chair. She brought her glass of wine to her lips and pulled it away without drinking.

  "So, you think I should take my chance to escape tomorrow?"

  Karen shrugged.

  "I would if I had the opportunity." She smoked and exhaled. "Maybe you won't get a chance. Maybe they'll shoot you dead if you try. Maybe you'll st
arve to death in the jungle. Maybe you'll find help somewhere. I don't know. But, I invite you to look at this place, Claire. I mean really look at what's going on. The guards, the guns. They're barely pretending anymore."

  Claire shook her head.

  "Even if I could somehow slip away, I don't even know what continent we're on. And if I do get away and end up in the jungle, I'm no survivalist."

  Karen smoked the last of her cigarette and stamped it out in the ash tray. She looked at Claire and gave a soft, gentle smile.

  "It was only a thought."

  She lowered the radio's volume and took a drink of wine.

  "Let's talk about something else."

  But before they could even try, the guard pounded his fist against the door. He entered and the two women said their goodbyes. Then they were separate, both led back to their quarters under escort.

  Hours later, as they lay alone in their rooms, they both thought of life's interruptions and the consolation of little moments. And though they would each think of one another often in the days to follow, neither would see the other again.

  Chapter 14

  In the morning, she awoke to a beautiful silence, the real world crystallizing slowly as she lifted from her dreams. Soon, a hard knocking shattered it all apart, and her heart picked up as reality seized her mind. She put on her robe and answered the door. A soldier stood before her, his face unfamiliar and very young.

  "You have one hour," he said, before turning his back.

  She shut the door and hurried to the bathroom for a quick shower. Without delay, she dried and dressed her body in clothing that seemed appropriate enough for a diversity of outcomes. As the soldier pounded the door, she quickly applied enough makeup to give her pallid face a touch of life. Then she left the room and joined him in the hallway.

  They made their way through the appropriate passages and elevators until they arrived topside, where they met more soldiers, who guided her out of the facility and into the open air. High away in the pale blue sky, the sun flared brightly, its forgotten warmth so nourishing to her ivory skin. She looked at it for an instant, and it seemed to look back, a floral wind kicking up to celebrate the reunion.

  "Hello," said Dominic Betancur. He wore safari gear and he approached wearing the smile of a lunatic. "Please, join me in the lead vehicle."

  She nodded politely and followed him, Romero watching them the whole way before climbing into a separate truck.

  They left the compound and drove out into the surrounding flats. Claire studied the landscape through the open window, the grasses low and wispy, the horizon mostly bare. After two hours of this, they crossed into a strange and wasted land, with black skeletal trees that stuck from the ground like the curled ends of burned matchsticks.

  Claire glanced out her window at the desolate scrub and contemplated the scant chance of life in all that dirt and sparsity. But before she got far, a family of little rabbits shot out from a distant bur shrub, their tiny footwork kicking up faint puffs of white sand that rose up in the clear air and then vanished, like little explosions of powder on some enormous expression of still life.

  Dominic smiled.

  "I've seen amazing things in this area," he said. "Mother Nature finds a way."

  By the time the great wall of jungle flora appeared on the horizon, the sun had pulled near the earth. As its burn dulled, all makes of orange light shot through the flowing tree tops, while great birds circled like giant insects above them. Together, the birds moved in perfect agreement, congealing into enormous black halos that swelled and undulated in some sort of ancient unanimity, which seemed sinister to Claire at such as distance for reasons that were beyond her will to understand.

  As they approached, the wild thicket seemed to grow before their eyes, and soon they saw the dark gape that tunneled into it. They followed the road forward, the trucks like motorized toys before the flora's girth. With a bump, the vehicles pierced the jungle's edge, a thick darkness embracing them, a sudden swell of insect chatter and hooting animals booming out from every direction.

  As they pressed further, their headlights bored into the obscurity, the fog concealing what lie ahead, as it tumbled over the uneven road. Every so often, animals would bolt across the path, their eyes like bright little fire balls, glinting and glimmering and then quickly disappearing into the smothering black.

  Big, bulging tree roots stuck out of the road like python snakes, and as the tires thumped over them, Claire's hand clutched the door handle and then Dominic's knee by mistake. He smiled and leaned toward her, his nostrils taking an audible sniff of her hair.

  "Don't worry," he said. "We're well-equipped for this terrain."

  She moved away from him with care and settled in her seat. His demeanor seemed much the same despite her detachment, and after a while, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. They pressed on into the jungle, traveling in silence for hours. She tried to stay alert, but her eyelids took on more and more weight, and soon she fell asleep beside him, the jostling carriages doing little to disturb the depth of her slumber.

  In her dreams, she saw her little mother all dressed in black alone beside a casket. As Claire watched from above, the old woman wrung her withered hands and wept, as she looked upon the face of her dead husband. Claire called out, louder and louder, but her mother could not hear. And after a while, she collapsed and died and turned to ash beneath her clothing, such a vision jerking Claire awake in her seat, the budding dawn flaring considerately outside the window glass.

  She immediately noticed the changed terrain. They'd exited the jungle and fell upon a paved road, which ran neatly along a picturesque coastline, where rolling waves spilled over a jagged, rocky shore. Dominic slept beside her, his mouth agape, saliva seeping out its corners. She nudged him and his eyes popped open.

  "Have we arrived?" He asked.

  "I don't think so," she said.

  He sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

  "Oh, good," he said, as he peered out the windows. "It won't be long now."

  They drove another two hours before she saw the buildings stick up over the horizon and then another hour before the little city manifested around them. Soon, they joined traffic and traffic jams, and the soldiers held guns out the windows until the cars scurried to the side and let them pass. The trucks rumbled through the streets, like armored trucks pregnant with gold bars, and people fled the roads and gathered upon the sidewalks, as if something presidential had mysteriously joined their ranks.

  They continued through the streets, slowing at intersections only for a moment before rushing through red lights, and then they finally arrived at their destination: a pair of lofty twin ivory pillars that provided luxury accommodations for some of the wealthiest of the region. The trucks wheeled around the backside of the buildings and descended into an underground parking facility, then they finally came to a stop, and the engines fell silent. Dominic opened his door and stretched his legs.

  "That was quite a trip," he said, as he rubbed his lower back. He snapped his fingers at one of the soldiers, who quickly approached Claire and helped her from the vehicle. A short, well-dressed bald man came scurrying from the elevator, his tiny eyes peering out a pair of round, designer eyeglasses.

  "Mr. Betancur, I'm so happy to see you've arrived," he said. He offered a tiny, feminine-looking hand and it disappeared within Dominic's.

  "Hello, Paul. I trust everything is arranged?"

  "Yes, sir. We've seen to all your requirements."

  "Good."

  Dominic turned to Claire.

  "Romero will escort you to your room, where you'll have an opportunity to freshen up. We'll reconnect later for dinner and some entertainment." He smiled and took her hand. "I'm looking forward to our evening together."

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he turned and followed Paul to the elevator with five soldiers in tow.

  "This way, Ms. Foley," Romero said, as the lone remaining soldier fell in at hi
s side. The three approached a second elevator and took it to the lobby floor. After a few seconds, the door opened to show the lobby mostly empty, save for two tanned businessmen who looked upon the three of them with audacious curiosity. When they approached the front desk, Romero gave Dominic's name, which brought a keycard and several submissive smiles, and then the three took the elevator up several stories, where they found Claire's room.

  "Mr. Lopez will remain outside your door for your protection," Romero said before turning to take the elevator back to wherever he was going. Claire eyed the soldier for a moment and then shut the door.

  She turned to assess the room, the walls tan, bedding burgundy, the whole setup as beautiful as any she'd ever seen. She walked over to the sink and filled a cup of water. She drank it down and refilled it again, repeating this twice more and then dropping the cup into the sink. She approached the bed and collapsed upon it, immediately falling into a dreamless sleep. In what seemed like only a few minutes time, someone began wrapping the door, but when she awoke to see the clock, she realized she had been asleep for more than three hours.

  "Ms. Foley," Romero called from outside.

  She sat up and glanced about the room. The woman in the mirror looked at her through nervous eyes. She straightened her posture and adjusted her expression until the reflection gained her approval. Then she crossed the room and opened the door.

  "Yes?"

  Romero straightened when he saw her.

  "Mr. Betancur has arranged dinner reservations for seven o’clock."

  He looked her over from head to toe.

  "You'll find suitable attire in your closet. I'll wait outside while you prepare and then I'll escort you to his car."

  Claire nodded and shut the door.

  Over the next hour, she showered and prepared her hair and makeup, hands working in an automated sort of way, an expressionless face staring back from the mirror as she worked. The form-fitting black dress they'd selected on her behalf fit remarkably, as if they'd crept in and tailored it around her body as she slept. When she'd finished, she looked well-suited to the role she might play on this particular evening, in this particular setting for this particular man. And when she opened the door to greet Romero and his associate, both men seemed a little startled by what they saw.