The Copper Egg

by Catherine Friend

  “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just couldn’t stand your perfection, your absolute devotion to something. It made me feel like a slacker.”

  “You are a slacker.” Her anger drained. Hudson just wasn’t worth it. Someone on his end of the phone shouted something. “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, well, that’s actually why I’m calling. I thought I should explain the story to someone so I could get full credit for what I’ve done. Remember I told you that after you left I fell in with a bad crowd?”

  “I thought you were kidding.”

  “Nope. I reconnected with my host family when I was an exchange student in Japan my junior year.” She waited, having no idea where he was going with this. “My host family was pretty wealthy, and they were very kind to me. The Higuchis made me feel like part of the family.”

  “Higuchi.”

  “Wow. I actually heard the light bulb go off over your head. Yeah, the family started out in Peru, but when the economy tanked in the nineties they thought they’d give Japan a try. Really didn’t work, since the Higuchis are Peruvians, not Japanese.”

  “Hudson, what have you done?”

  With each sentence of his explanation, her anguish deepened. Hudson had been desperate to make his mark in her job but failed at every attempt. Mr. Higuchi wanted to help, so he loaned his adopted “son” a backflap he’d found in Peru years ago, long before the intense looting had begun.

  “I planted it in Chan Chan, then ‘found’ it. It brought me the recognition I needed, but then your bitch stole the backflap and locked it up in the vault. Higuchi wanted it back, but I couldn’t get it. And if you have something Higuchi wants, you’d better find a way to get it. The whole NanoTrax thing was my solution. On a hunch, I asked Higuchi, and it turns out one of his companies had been the major developer in Japan.”

  “You got the NanoTrax from him.”

  “Yes. Then I talked Sochi into using a few more items from the vault as bait.”

  “Did you steal those artifacts from the van tonight?”

  “Guilty. Your girlfriend’s plan was so obvious a child could have figured it out. We drove around for a while, then—” Hudson stopped and started chuckling. “Let’s just say that by now Sochi has tracked the artifacts to the beach and found the NanoTrax stuck on the backs of four sea turtles.”

  “Cute.”

  “Meanwhile, Higuchi picked us up on the beach. I’m on his boat now…What?” A voice, laughing, shouted something in the background. “Oh, sorry, it’s a ship, not a boat.”

  “You must be so satisfied with yourself.”

  “I admit it, I am. It hasn’t been easy these last few weeks. I’ve been living two separate lives—Hudson, the subdirector of excavation, and Hudson, the looter.”

  Claire snorted. “And to think I wasted time feeling badly because we’d drifted apart.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t spend too much time worrying about that. But I want you to know that on some level, I do feel badly about what I’ve done, so I’m going to leave you with one gift.”

  “I’m breathless.” Really, she was done with him.

  “Higuchi is a smart guy. He watches. He puts things together. He says that if you go into the trunk of Sochi’s car, you’ll find a black gym bag. Look inside. It turns out that I’m not the only one who’s been living two lives.”

  “Leave Sochi out of this. I don’t trust a word you say.”

  “I probably deserve that. But still, I wish I could have seen her face when she found the turtles.”

  He’d just handed Claire the perfect line. “I know the feeling. I wish I could see your face.”

  “When?”

  She wanted to strangle every drop of self-satisfaction from his voice. “You aren’t the only one who can switch things, you know. I wish I could see your face when you examine the backflap and the other artifacts and discover they’re fakes.”

  “Ha. Funny. You’re a sore loser.”

  “Look at them closely. I know someone who makes fakes for a hobby, so we put the NanoTrax on the fakes. That’s why Sochi changed the list of artifacts at the last minute. These reproductions had already been made.”

  “You can’t make a repo of a backflap.” She could hear him running down a corridor.

  “You can if you’re as good as this person is.” A door banged open and there were more noises that must have been Hudson opening the boxes. A low moan gathered strength until it was a horrified shout.

  “Fuck!”

  “Interesting. It turns out that hearing your despair is just as satisfying as seeing it. You still don’t have the backflap, so your buddy Higuchi is not going to be happy with you. Have a nice life, asshole.” She hung up.

  Damn, that felt good. Her only regret was that Sochi hadn’t been part of the conversation. She tucked her feelings for Hudson away into a dark recess of her heart, never to see the light of day again.

  Claire needed to share the conversation with Sochi, but didn’t want to do it over the phone. It was too late to bother Nancho, so she hailed a cab passing by the Plaza. On the ride over, Claire fingered the vial of San Pedro. Whenever the egg deserted her for a few days, she considered taking it.

  Sochi’s house was dark but for the front light. Claire slipped around the back and found the spare key hidden under an empty pot, then let herself in to wait. By now Sochi would have found the turtles. Would she come right home, bummed about the failure to track Higuchi but relieved about the artifacts?

  Pacing didn’t seem to bring Sochi home any faster. Nor did calling her cell every two minutes. Claire finally sat down and fished out the copper egg. This time it was in the mood to show her more.

  Ixchel’s heart beat with terror. The administrator hunted her. He would kill her.

  No, no. Slow down, Ixchel chanted to herself. Calm down. She wove through the homes and fields. Soon she saw the towering walls of Cualli’s compound ahead. Cualli would help.

  At the entrance, Ixchel stood tall, trying to look like a man, as she was dressed. She hefted her bag of tools to show the guard. “I am here to work.”

  The lazy guard motioned her in. She hurried through the massive ceremonial plaza, then started down a side street. She had to stop to ask for directions. As she wandered through passageways, her clothing stuck to her back. There was no air circulation this deep into the palace, even with the fishnet walls. Again, she asked for directions. She grew calmer as she neared Cualli and Tochi’s home. Soon she would be surrounded by safety and love.

  She entered the house and heard their voices.

  She stepped into the room. “Cualli, it has happened.”

  Cualli gasped in horror, but not at her words. Tochi reached out as if to stop someone.

  Hard hands grabbed her from behind. She struggled, but was unable to free herself.

  The administrator leaned in. Smug. “I knew you would come. All I had to do was wait. Your timing is perfect because your king requires your attendance on his final journey.”

  Tochi restrained a wailing Cualli. His eyes gleamed with pain, having great affection for both Cualli and Ixchel. “I am nephew to this city’s ruler,” he said. “You cannot take Ixchel.”

  “Watch me.” Two men bound her arms and began dragging her toward the door. The house servants stopped to stare.

  Ixchel’s breath came in gulps. “You are taking me back to my city?” There was still hope. She could escape during the long journey.

  The administrator glowed with smugness but did not answer her question. “My only regret is that your father is no longer alive to witness my triumph. Come along.”

  Cualli’s screams followed them out the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Claire

  Friday, April 7

  When Claire came out of the vision, Sochi was shaking her by the shoulders. “I’m okay,” Claire said weakly. She rubbed her burning eyes, reliving the vision. Her treasure hunt was a bust. She was never going to figure this out. Ixchel had
been from Chaco’s city, but she’d fled that as a child, and now she was being taken back there. Identifying the location seemed impossible.

  Sochi retrieved a bottle of water, then pulled up a chair and sat down. “Where the hell were you?”

  Claire opened up her palm to reveal the copper egg, glistening with her sweat. “That one was intense. Harder to come back from.” She guzzled the water gratefully. Ixchel’s life was in danger. For all Claire knew, this might be the last vision she would have. How far did Ixchel have to travel before she reached the tomb and was then murdered by the administrator?

  The vision raised questions. Ixchel had the copper egg, Cualli had a silver egg, but how did all three eggs end up in the tomb? Were they on Ixchel’s body? Had they been placed there by different people? Claire drained the bottle and handed it to Sochi. “Refill, please?”

  She drank the second bottle as quickly as the first. These later visions were taking more out of her than the earlier ones. “I know what happened with the NanoTrax artifacts.”

  Sochi drew back. “How could you know?”

  “Hudson called me.”

  After Claire shared her conversation with Hudson, Sochi cursed. “I knew someone had tipped Higuchi’s men off. I shouldn’t be surprised it was Hudson.” She shook her head, her short hair wild and stiff from her adventure on the beach. “I wish I could see his face when he realizes the artifacts are fakes.”

  Claire snickered. “I know we’d agreed to keep that fact quiet, but he was being such a smug son of a bitch that I couldn’t resist.”

  A slow smile spread across Sochi’s perfect, caramel-smooth face. “He freaked?”

  “Total meltdown.”

  “Good.”

  Claire leaned back and stretched overhead, aching from holding still during her vision. “But he never stops trying to mess us up. He started ranting about you living two lives and having a secret in your car, some sort of black bag.” She yawned so widely that her eyes closed. When she opened them, Sochi had gone from amused to angry. Her eyes had darkened to navy blue, never a good sign. “What’s wrong?”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  “That you were keeping something secret in your car, but he’s just trying to drive a wedge between us. How could you be living a secret life? You don’t have the time. Besides, two lives implies that one of them involves something illegal. You’d never do that.”

  “Oh, really? Are we going to do this now?” Her lips trembled with anger, leaving Claire more confused.

  “Do what now?”

  “It’s only a matter of time, and you’ve been so sweet and kind these last few days, talking about trust and openness. Well, I’ll give you openness, and I guarantee you’ll no longer trust me. You’ll be disgusted and indignant and then you’ll leave all over again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Wait here.” She stomped out to her car and quickly returned with a black bag. “There’s the black bag. Might as well look inside.”

  “Soch, I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me. What have I done?”

  “It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you’re going to do. Open it.”

  Claire unzipped the bag and pulled out a soil probe and small shovel, then some hand brushes and rags. She pulled out a dig kit. “This is your dig kit and tools for excavating. What’s so shocking about that?”

  “Keep going.”

  A plastic bag came out next. Inside was a Styrofoam head holding a long, brown wig. The last item in the bag was a small pouch. Inside was a contact case holding brown contacts. Claire tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough. “I don’t understand. Dig tools, brown wig, brown contacts—”

  She stopped, reviewing the description of La Bruja. Brown hair, brown eyes. Claire’s heart leapt into her throat. “No, that can’t be.”

  Sochi narrowed her eyes. “Yes, it can be. The native who’s been following you? That’s my man, Rigoberto.”

  “Your man?” Claire jumped to her feet and backed away from the table as if the items were radioactive. “He told me he worked for La Bruja.”

  Sochi waited, the muscles along her jaw rippling.

  “Oh, no. Sochi, no. The Sochi I know would never loot!”

  “So now you know the truth. Time for you to judge me, to reject me. It turns out I’m just as bad as you thought I was three years ago, only for a different reason. Rigo’s been following you so that when you found the tomb, we could raid it.”

  Claire felt as if she were sliding down a cliff, struggling for a handhold to stop this freefall. “I don’t understand. Explain it to me.”

  “What for? You won’t listen. You never listen. I knew getting close to you again was a bad idea.”

  “Hey, calm down. I’m not the looter here.”

  “You left three years ago because of something you thought I’d done. You’re going to leave again because of what you now know I’ve done. Let’s just skip ahead to the end of the story, okay? Get out.”

  “But I—”

  “Out!” She grabbed Claire’s arm and shoved her at the door. “You can catch a taxi two blocks down on Universidad.”

  Claire turned the knob, so stunned that her brain refused to work. “But—”

  “Go. We’re done.”

  In a fog, Claire walked the two blocks, raised her hand for a passing taxi, and was soon back at La Casa del Sol.

  *

  The next morning, Claire awoke with a start, then moaned at her stiff neck. She wiped her mouth, horrified that the woven blanket which she’d wrapped around herself last night was damp near her shoulder. Great. Drowning by drool. She sat up, stretching her back. The rattan chair, the only piece of furniture on the little balcony, squeaked in alarm as she shifted her weight forward and hung down from the waist. What a night. God, why couldn’t she have been drinking? At least then she’d have the hangover as an excuse for feeling so rotten this morning.

  But no. She couldn’t blame it on the Cabernet. An entire menu of incredibly unwonderful feelings swirled inside her like a blender that just wouldn’t shut off.

  Claire tucked the blanket around her legs. It was still early. Sounds of a neighborhood starting another business day echoed off the walls—car doors slamming, delivery trucks backing up, two dogs barking at each other from different blocks. Her balcony looked out over the property line, which was overgrown with climbing vines and a thicket of trees.

  She didn’t want to get up, officially. She didn’t want to leave the balcony. Why couldn’t she just hide out here for a few weeks? She could have food brought in and spend hours watching the little birds fly in and out of the greenery.

  The minute Claire left the balcony, she’d have to figure out what to do next. That meant thinking about all the Sochis she knew: Sochi as her lover for three years; Sochi as the woman she’d wanted to spend her life with; Sochi as the woman Claire had thought had betrayed her to the press; Sochi as the dedicated CNTP employee; Sochi as La Bruja sin Corazon. Sochi as the real reason Claire had come to Peru without knowing it.

  She tried to imagine the mental gymnastics Sochi would’ve had to perform in order to spend the nights looting, then showing up at the CNTP the next day to protect the very resources she vandalized at night.

  Claire sighed. It was time to end this treasure hunt. She’d never figure out either the location of Chaco’s city or the city where Ixchel had lived with Uncle and Auntie. She slid down farther into the blanket.

  When she woke up again, the sun poured into her lap. She called the airport. The next open flight to Lima left at six p.m., and she would be on it. She finally stood, shaking out a foot that had fallen asleep, then staggered into her room.

  Claire took one last walk to Las Dulces and ordered her five favorite pastries, pretending to the clerk that she had friends waiting at a table outside. Then she sat in the cool shade and ate them all herself. That’s when she realized her three shadows were truly gone. No more tails.

&nb
sp; Claire loved watching people in Trujillo. A pod of bikers flashed by, all Lycra and calf muscles. Across the street, two men were repainting a building from orange to lime green. The other buildings were hot pink, teal, and pale yellow. These people were not afraid of color. She could hear, but couldn’t see, someone drumming on a street corner.

  A native woman walked by in her wide, colorful skirts and brown bowler. Down the street, another woman was doing a brisk business selling vegetables.

  An odd feeling clutched at her, and she teared up, suddenly so grateful for the color and music and smells. She loved these hardy people who continued to overcome all that had been imposed upon them by their Spanish conquerors. They’d been enslaved, tortured, killed by disease, forced to mine silver until they died on their feet, and yet, here they were, driving electric blue Volkswagen beetles and smiling at her as they passed her table.

  Claire called Mac, who was home from the hospital, and bored to distraction. “You catch that bad guy yet?” he asked.

  “No, Mac, and I don’t think I will. He’s stuck his evil hand in nearly every Peruvian industry and plans to bring the whole country down. First, I doubt he’ll succeed—it’s a crazy scheme, and second, I can’t do anything to stop him.”

  “Huh. The asshole had me shot.”

  “I know. But I’m thinking that you need me back there.”

  Silence. “Well, that is true. Someone needs to explain to the British Museum about the Ming vase Bob broke over the gunman’s head.” More silence. “But I gotta say, giving up doesn’t really sound like you.”

  She told him about her fight with Sochi and how she wouldn’t even explain why she’d been La Bruja, or let Claire talk, but that she’d just shut her down. “I’m done, you know? I’m done with Higuchi and the egg and the visions.”

  “Visions?”

  “Long story. And I’ve gained another ten pounds eating at this café every day. I want to come home.”

  “Why won’t Sochi talk to you?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose because she knows I’m horrified she’s been looting.”