I offered Pacal a full explanation right then, which he refused to hear.
"There will be plenty of time for storytelling later," he said. "Besides, your motives for being here are not as important as your actions thus far on Apterona. You are, by all indications, one of us, a man who longs for new horizons, and whether from a distant shore or a future time, we have revealed this great secret to you in the hope that you will help us, too, to reach new worlds."
My heart swelled. Here was Pacal Votan, ambassador for a civilization somehow un-credited in all of archaeology, admiral of a secret fleet to sail the very crest of history, asking for my assistance. I was in a tenuous position, but his sincerity and the importance of his plea were simply too great to deny.
"Of course," I replied. "When do you plan to embark?"
We turned to greet Puma as he approached. His fist was clenched, with something inside.
"As soon as we can arrange a suitable decoy," said the prince. "Mobilizing thousands of people against the will of a stubborn ruler like my father is no small task. In any event, three quarters of them are still loyal to him. This endeavor must, I fear, be defended with deadly force when the secret is out. It goes against everything my father stands for, and his Palace guard will stop at nothing to keep these ships from sailing.
"I have something for you, Pacal," he continued, opening his fist and holding the contents out.
Pacal Votan's frown grew until his eyebrows met. He plucked the object from Puma's hand and studied it. I leaned in, also. It was a pendant, with decorated ivory beads and a familiar, angular centerpiece, identical to the one I had found on the seabed, next to the time machine. My first thought was that it must have fallen through a hole in my pocket. I checked.
Strangely, mine was still there.
"This was my father's," proclaimed Pacal. "Where did you find it?"
"The guards found it near the mouth of the cove, on the ocean bottom," replied Puma. "I recognized it instantly."
"Indeed. There was no finer engraver than my mother. This was the first gift she ever gave to my father. I am so glad it was not lost."
My mind clicked into gear. If the pendant was unique, and the mysterious time-traveler had taken it with him to 1979, he must have also gained possession of it before he left Apterona. A horrible realization struck through me, and I shuddered. The man doomed to suffer an indescribable end, the man to whom I owed this whole adventure, had just been identified.
Pacal Votan, my first and best friend on Apterona, was the answer to our great riddle. And sometime soon, he was going to die. The Fates had declared it. Yet, what was my presence here if not a spanner in the temporal works?
Could I help him to somehow cheat death, and, if so, what effect would that have on the future? On my future? If his dead body was not found off the coast of Cuba, my presence here would never be. That was one theory. However, I had conjectured that the rules governing time travel were not simply cause and effect, but rather laws unto themselves, and that a person displaced through time was no longer linked to the time he left. In other words, my ties to 1979 had been severed by this journey. Whatever changes I effected on Apterona, they might indeed ripple into the future, altering my 1979, but they would not touch me here.
I shifted weight from one leg to the other, horribly self-conscious. What if my theory was right? Rodrigo and I would be safe, but we might never see our 1979 again. There was still too much to figure out before I could risk revealing Pacal's fate to him. I decided to keep quiet. But one thing I had to do, and could not wait to do, was talk the matter over with Rodrigo. The Cuban would know what course to take. At least, I hoped so.
We remained in the cavern for another hour while Puma and Pacal conversed with their men. By this time, my limbs were stiff. My jaw quivered from the cold. I noted how little Pacal and Puma seemed affected by the dip in temperature. Indeed, their scant clothing reminded me what great survivors we humans used to be. I was relieved to hear Puma say the time had come for us to return to Yaku.
Apart from the occasional whisper between Pacal and Puma, we were silent all the way to the cliff top. The wind had calmed. In its place, a heavy atmosphere slowed our steps and pressed tightly against our chests. I sensed a severe turn of weather would hit us at any moment.
As Pacal loosened the boat's mooring rope, the first drops of tepid rain peppered the back of my neck. The jungle canopy above bore the brunt of the sudden downpour and let the rain trickle down in measured streams upon us.
We made excellent progress upstream in the longboat, despite the growing current. Pacal Votan and Puma Pawq'ar maintained a marvelous rhythm. Soon after we shimmied past the bottleneck, however, I leaned forward to shift my position and felt a sharp jab to my ribs.
I winced and clutched my side. My jaw clenched. The sting doubled me up across the deck. But after that initial dash of pain, the sensation was not unpleasant. I remember a wonderful puzzlement enveloping me as the blurring figure of Pacal thrust his spear at a dark shape clinging to the side of the boat. The chaotic tap of what sounded like fingernails on wood faded into a happy clickety-click. The darkness of the forest eased into my thoughts, and I smiled before winding along a deep, cool river of slumber.
* * * *
It was early evening when I awoke. My throat felt dry, coarse as a desert rock. I trembled when I tried to move, and my eyes could not handle even the dwindling light from a pale sky. The flimsy walls around me seemed to belong to a tent of some kind. They were sheet white and flexed in the wind. But I was pleasantly warm. Despite one side of the canopy being half open, whomever had erected the thing had made sure I was sheltered from the wind.
Kindly hands had set me here.
My bed consisted of four woolen blankets; one covered me, while I lay on the other three. Beside me was a small, hinged box, its lid left open and its contents visible. A collection of tiny bottles and bowls, carved from wood, were neatly arranged inside. Aromas of various liquids, powders and herbs combined to fill the tent with a bizarre aroma. I wondered to what alchemist this mobile kit might belong. Why was I not in my home? What had happened to me on our return up Kuti river?
"Ah, awake at last!" K'achita was taller than I remembered but just as voluptuous. She blustered inside the tent, adjusting her sandy-colored shawl repeatedly in an attempt to drape it comfortably about her neck. I smiled as I realized Rodrigo could not be far away. The past months had taught me that. Where Rodrigo was, there also was K'achita, and vice versa.
They had grown close very quickly, and it was not difficult to see why. The native girl, an only child raised by a hardy widower, was headstrong, even brazen, until you knew her well. Her often thorny nature and sharp outspokenness concealed kindness and sweet nature that, in Rodrigo's case, was like pollen to a bee. The two were soon inseparable, as the Cuban himself was not without his prickly charms.
For my part, though I inevitably saw less of Rodrigo, their relationship provoked an ambivalence that was nothing to do with our own friendship and everything to do with our roles as time-travelers. The main thing, I told myself, was that he was happy. The nagging truth was that when the time came to leave Apterona, he would be reluctant. As I would later determine, there are no mere sips of paradise.
"Well, well, here he is, right as acid rain," said Rodrigo, playfully sweeping K'achita off her feet and setting her down at the foot of my bed. I fancied I heard his spine creak; she was heavier than the poor Cuban let on. "How do you feel, Baz?"
"Groggy," I replied. "Tell me, where am I and how long was I out?"
K'achita answered, "Three days, Baz. The poison worked faster than we imagined. If Puma had not brought you here right away, you would now be on your last voyage."
Missing time was quickly becoming my nasty habit. I recalled the entire nighttime expedition and its many revelations. Was K'achita's allusion to a voyage coincidental, just a figure of speech, or did she know where I had been that night? Did she have a part in the planned
exodus. If so, had she told Rodrigo?
Too many assumptions all at once. I lay down again to ride out the dizziness, and just listened.
"She's right," said Rodrigo, now speaking in English. "As near as I can gather from their description, you were punctured by the tail of some huge insect, very much like a scorpion. Puma knew to bring you straight here, and here's where you've been looked after by no less than five of us. Yes, you're more popular now than you ever were back home in England, which isn't hard, but seriously, you've been in good hands."
"Second to none," agreed K'achita, making me smile with her grasp of our future dialect.
I quickly totted up the numbers in my head. "Rodrigo and K'achita makes two; likely Pacal and Puma--four. Who else have I to thank?"
"Well, that's the best part," Rodrigo replied. "You won't believe it, but you've been attended night and day by none other than the Queen herself!"
"Chasca Quilla?"
"Yes. You're outside the palace right now. Puma brought you here because the venom from that sting is extremely rare and powerful. By all accounts the scorpions haven't been seen this far west in a long, long time. The cure for their poison just isn't needed any more. Hence you were brought to the Queen, who seems to be a dab hand in the kitchen, despite the fact that she's blind."
"Watch your mouth!" scolded K'achita. "The Queen is above you and commands your respect. Remember what I said. Insults can never be delivered to those higher in station than you."
Better stay away from the British Parliament then.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," replied Rodrigo, knowing how much she loved to hear him call her that. "Now be a good girl and fetch Puma, will you. Baz and I want to talk for a minute."
She looked at us curiously. Ruffling Rodrigo's hair, a gesture she knew he hated, she laughed when he failed to grab her shawl as she darted out of the tent. The evening darkened further as we spoke alone.
"All right, where were you that night?" he started.
I laid the entire expedition before him, including my far-reaching theories concerning the fleet and its possible role in history. Rodrigo retrieved a familiar item from behind his back--my silver whisky flask. There was no liquor in it, but Pacal's fruit cocktail tasted divine.
"Things are getting serious on Apterona then," he said.
"That's for sure."
"How long do you think we've got?"
"There's no telling. The Yaku villagers seem harmless enough, but I wonder how many of them would put a spear to our throats if the good Kamachej ordered it. Not to mention the two other villages to the north. If Puma thinks he's got enough manpower to sail a fleet that size, there could be a full-scale civil war when the news finally breaks."
"I agree," said the Cuban. "In essence, we're talking loyalty versus treason, religious doctrine versus free will, a son defying his father. I don't want to be around when that breaks, especially since Puma and his exodus might very well be crushed. Just one thing. All those theories you mention about the birth of future civilizations. You do know what mythologists refer to when they speak of an ancient fount of knowledge, don't you?"
"Not without the fantasy," I replied.
His eyes widened. "Fantasy or not, we're here, over nine thousand years ago. The thought did cross my mind, but it's only just become likely."
I knew exactly to what he was referring, but I had thought of it before and still remained extremely skeptical.
"Atlantis?" I whispered.
"Atlantis."
One side of my rib-cage ticked; the other, where I had been wounded, throbbed. The entrance to my tent darkened as I looked up. Five figures now stood inside: K'achita, Puma Pawq'ar, Pacal Votan and two whom I did not immediately recognize. Puma introduced them as the Kamachej and his Queen! All had died millennia before I was born, all now watched on as I took a swig from my flask.
Right! Where do we go from here?
"Thank you all for your kindness," I said.
The Queen was dainty, perfectly curved. Her grey cloak covered her left side. She was only about five feet tall yet stood proudly. Chasca Quilla may have been blind but as I spoke, she turned her strangely all-seeing eyes toward me. My insides turned to jelly.
"Leave us," ordered the Kamachej. His entourage bowed and left. He nodded to Rodrigo as well, which left me alone with the royal couple. My side still throbbed, but I did not feel uncomfortable in their presence.
Vichama Supay was about fifty-five, wiry as though his bones would bend, and cursed with clownish features. His round face needed only to be daubed white and green and he would have made a fortune entertaining kids at fairs and parties. I was less than intimidated. He was utterly oblivious to the irony, of course. I suppose a blind wife and a high throne can make Dionysus of even the ugliest of rulers.
"You are fully recovered, my friend?" he said.
"More or less. I am told the queen saved my life, first with her medicine, and then with her care. How may I repay this kindness?"
She tilted her head toward her husband, as if to remind him of something they had shared earlier.
"I am glad that you ask," he said. "She wishes you to accompany her when you are able. Think of it as a request with a caveat. She is a woman, after all, and women command us in ways we men are not meant to understand."
Chasca Quilla smiled, something I never expected to see on her glacial complexion. She was not the prettiest woman I had ever encountered, yet what of it? Often the most intoxicating beauty is subtle, offbeat. I was drawn to her.
"Accompany you where, your Majesty?"
"Oh, I think you will approve when you see," she answered. Her voice was hoarse.
Great! The entire island speaks in riddles.
"It will likely be a day or two," said Vichama Supay. "She is not well. The change of season always affects her voice. Three years ago, she could not speak at all for a time. Not everyone thought that unfortunate, let me tell you. She wishes your journey to be a surprise, and indeed it will be. Know only that your encounter with the great bear has intrigued us all, and that my wife, being a student of history, has longed to speak with you.
"And now I must apologize for the ordeal you suffered in our palace, and for denying you the shelter of its walls these past few days. Only those with royal affiliation are permitted to live inside the palace, my family and the royal guard. Alas, there are precedents that forbid any exception to this rule, and to disobey them would arouse a great deal of resentment among the already troubled people of our Land."
The man's frank, congenial nature took me aback. His booming words across the great chamber had unnerved me all those months before. Nothing in his voice now suggested he was remotely that same person. Expecting Torquemada, had I instead found a truly benevolent Kamachej.
"I accept her Majesty's invitation and look forward to surprising her as well."
The Kamachej laughed, and his wife's eyebrow twitched with curiosity. I felt satisfied I had made a decent impression.
"Goodbye, then," he said, turning to leave, "and rest well, for you will need it."
"Farewell," whispered Chasca Quilla.
I bade them both a pleasant evening and then sighed, either side of a sip of fruit juice, before greeting the next audience.
Chapter 15
Two days passed before the queen and I regained full health. It is always surprising to me how often one's recovery from a malady precipitates a hyper-activity of that impaired function. Take me for instance, cooped up in little more than a wigwam for the better part of five days, almost exclusively horizontal. I had not moved but a few paces during that time. On the morning of our hike, however, my legs were energetic as piston shanks. I felt fully equipped to conquer Apterona.
We set off mid-morning. Chasca Quilla was led by a short, fierce-looking guard. Her hand rested on his shoulder, as he would be her eyes and caution for the journey. Ahead of them walked her son, Puma Pawq'ar, alongside that ubiquitous companion of ours, Pacal Votan. Rodrigo and K'ach
ita brought up the rear. They rarely kept in file, ever waltzing off on a whim, as lovers are wont to do.
Thus it remained for me to keep Her Majesty company, something I'm quite sure she planned beforehand, judging by her eagerness to talk. I've mentioned that one's recovery from an ailment can hail surprising results. Chasca Quilla re-defined the notion. Any trace of her sore throat had vanished. How she talked! Not since our first meeting with Pacal had I witnessed such an eager conversationalist, the difference being that I was now qualified to reply.
Her manner was light and eloquent. Beneath the friendliness, however, I sensed tact and sly inquisitiveness. Little verbal tricks, like her interrupting my answers the moment I reached the salient point, or her cleverly answering each of my queries with another question for me, made me reticent after a while.
"Your Majesty, do you know Pacal Votan well? Word is that his father--"
"No, not much farther now. The air feels clear today, Lord Henry Basingstoke. You may be able to see the western peaks."
"What does lie to the west, behind the mist?" I asked.
"How inquisitive you are, my friend. The west? That is a long journey from here. Didn't you say you were from the east--from across the sea?"
The conversation eventually turned to Darkly, after whom I had more than once enquired without success. Yes, Chasca Quilla was playing the rapport at her very own tempo.
"You say the great bear saved your life. Why do you think he did that?" she said.
"Perhaps I should be asking you," I replied. "The others seem only to know of the bears through myths and legends. Apparently, the ancients befriended them before the time of the first Kamachej, before all beasts were decreed servile. From what I can gather, kinship between man and bear was seen as blasphemy from then on. Have I understood correctly?"
The Basingstoke Chronicles Page 11
