The Mayan Codex

by Mario Reading

  ‘No. What are those secrets?’

  Sabir sat up. ‘What did I tell you?’

  Calque moved in closer. He crouched down beside Sabir. ‘You told us that the Third Antichrist was already living amongst us. That you knew his name and his condition, but that no one else must be allowed to know it. That if they did, the Corpus Maleficus would seize it from them in an effort to support the Antichrist and delay the return of the Devil.’

  ‘Christ Jesus. That’s it? That’s what I told you?’

  ‘Yes. You quoted Revelations to us too: “And when the thousand years are expired, Satan shall be loosed out of his prison; And shall go out to deceive the nations which are in the four quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog, to gather them together to battle: the number of whom is as the sand of the sea.”’

  ‘Yes. Yes. It’s what Achor Bale said to me when he had me imprisoned in the cesspit. “AND AFTER THAT HE MUST BE LOOSED A LITTLE SEASON.” The maniac thought he was still protecting us all from the Devil, just like his de Bale ancestors had done for the kings of France.’

  The Halach Uinic motioned to Ixtab. She crouched forwards and spoke to Sabir. ‘We do not understand this. How can the de Bales imagine they are protecting us all from a Devil they themselves seem busy conjuring up?’

  Calque laid a hand on Sabir’s shoulder to stop him from responding. ‘Let me answer this. I’ve become something of an expert on the subject in recent months. The Devil-Antichrist question is a tricky one. In a nutshell, the Corpus believes that only by placating the Devil – that is, by supporting his earthly representative, the Third Antichrist (the first two Antichrists being Napoleon and Hitler, according to Nostradamus) – can the Devil be seduced into allowing the earth to follow its own devices. To run its own shop. Once the Devil himself is tempted to intervene – once he loses patience, in other words, with the machinations of his henchmen – we are doomed to Armageddon.’

  Ixtab shook her head. ‘How can this be? Is there no way to stop it? Or does the Corpus think this is all preordained too?’

  ‘To the de Bales’ way of thinking, the only palpable threat to the Third Antichrist is via the Second Coming. Because the Antichrist is the evil mirror image of Christ – Christ’s dark shadow – the antimimon pneuma – the counterfeit spirit, or what have you, only a true representation of Christ – ergo the Son of God – ergo the Parousia – ergo the Second Coming – can possibly hope to overcome him. The Corpus Maleficus can’t afford to let that happen, because then they would have failed in their sworn duty. The crazy thing is that they think they are the goodies. That whatever they need to do to keep the Devil at bay is justified, within the greater scheme of things. That is their gage. The rest is irrelevant to them. The Devil is God’s evil brother – the Antichrist bears the exact same relationship to Christ. The one, in both cases, presupposes the existence of the other. The Antichrist is therefore Christ’s dark shadow or mirror image, and can only be overcome by his opposite number. And vice versa. You see? It’s simple, really.’

  Ixtab shook her head. She glanced at the Halach Uinic. He met her gaze, then let his eyes fall to the ground.

  Sabir made a grab for Ixtab’s hand. ‘What else did I say?’

  ‘You also spoke of your blood sister, Yola Samana. You told us that she had been made pregnant by her husband, Alexi Dufontaine, on a beach on the island of Corsica. But that her coming child was no normal child, but the one predicted by Nostradamus in his lost prophecies – the prophecies that you had read and then burned in order to keep them out of the hands of Achor Bale and the Corpus Maleficus. That this child was indeed the Parousia, which some call the Second Coming. That because of his background, and the cursed nomadic tribe from which he sprang, the child would grow up to be a representative of all faiths, both religious and secular – of all people, not simply the Christians – of all races, not simply the Aryan and the Semitic. That his birth was designed by God to bring the peoples of the world together, and not to separate them, just as Revelations had foretold. “In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.”’

  ‘Oh, God. I told you all that? But I swore not to tell.’

  ‘To whom did you swear?’

  Sabir shook his head uncertainly. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. To myself, I suppose. Whoever I swore it to, in my delirium, is irrelevant. I owe Yola my protection. She is my blood sister. There are vows I have taken in front of her tribe. The more people who know of this thing, the more danger she stands in.’

  The Halach Uinic smiled. ‘All is well then. No one here will abuse your trust. You told us because you had to pass on the message. The Vision Serpent made you do so. The cult of the Second Coming shall start here. When the time is ripe we will proclaim his name. And that will be on 21 December 2012. At the very end of the Cycle of the Nine Hells.’

  ‘Then you’ll be signing the child’s death warrant. I shouldn’t have spoken. You were wrong to give me the datura. I have betrayed my blood sister.’

  ‘No, Adam. You told us because your unconscious mind sensed that you must share the secret you had stumbled on. That it would only be believed if it emerged under such circumstances. Such a secret is too much of a burden for any one man to carry.’

  Sabir shook his head. ‘Wrong. I told you because I thought I was the chief whose eyes the Spaniards started out of his head with the garrotte – that I was about to die, in other words, and carry my secret to the grave with me. I dreamed that I was in the clearing with Friar de Landa. That I saw Akbal Coatl writing his record. That I saw the broken bodies of those the Friar had already tortured. When I was blinded, the Vision Serpent briefly lent me his eyes so that I could bear witness to what had occurred.’ Sabir ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. ‘It’s all nonsense, of course. I wasn’t there. The drug was simply working on me. I was on a fucking trip, that’s all. And my unconscious mind grabbed hold of the first thing that suggested itself to me, which just happened to be the de Landa story. Under different circumstances it could just as easily have latched onto the storyline of a book I’d just been reading. Or a movie. Or something that had happened to me earlier that day in the street.’

  ‘You were that chief. You did see the Vision Serpent.’ The Halach Uinic was bending forwards at the waist. He was urging Sabir to believe him with his eyes.

  ‘Bullshit. How can that be possible?’

  ‘Because we were with you, Adam. All of us. We witnessed what happened to you. Ixtab was one of the ones who carried you from the square. As was I. As was the guardian, and the Chilan, and Calque. We all carried you out of there. We were chosen to share your vision. It was a communal one. As an acknowledged midwife, Ixtab was even told by the Franciscans to tend to your wounds so that you would not die. So that your torment could serve as an example to the other chiefs.’

  Sabir looked uncertainly at the Halach Uinic. Then he gave a bitter laugh. ‘This is all madness. You all carried me out here, now, this minute. Not out of the square at Maní four hundred and fifty years ago. I don’t believe a word of it. Where was Lamia in all of this? I need to speak to her. I need to ask her something.’

  The Halach Uinic stood up. He looked around himself in the darkness. ‘This is impossible, I am afraid. For Lamia has gone.’

  95

  Calque shrugged. ‘She was definitely here a few minutes ago. I saw her. We were in that place for more than four hours. It’s my guess that she’s gone to pay a visit to the bushes – and fast. That’s not something you particularly want to communicate to everybody when they’re carrying your boyfriend out in a dead faint.’

  Sabir grimaced. ‘I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this any more. Is it all right if we leave it to the morning? I’m going back to our lean-to. Lamia will be waiting for me there. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘You know how
to find it?’

  ‘Yes. It’s starting to get light. Look.’ Sabir pointed to a vague luminescence in the eastern sky. ‘We’re right next to the tallest tree in the place. It’s virtually impossible to miss it.’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’ Calque stepped quickly to Sabir’s side.

  ‘What for? To hold my hand? To make sure I don’t get lost in the dark?’

  ‘I want to make sure that Lamia’s all right. That was an uncomfortable experience to witness back there. You were screaming, Sabir. Like they were really squeezing out your eyes.’

  ‘They were.’

  ‘But you just told us it was bullshit. Get your story right, man.’

  In the dim light of the pre-dawn Sabir could just make out that Calque had his head cocked to one side, as if he were talking to someone with a particularly low IQ. This was a specialty of Calque’s. Something he’d clearly perfected over thirty years of questioning obstreperous – and often none-too-bright – suspects.

  Sabir bitterly resented being on the receiving end of that particular look. Especially now, when he was feeling more than a little fragile. ‘Well maybe I was wrong. I can still feel pain there, for Christ’s sake. Like someone slammed a car door on my head. Then pulled it back and slammed it again for good measure.’

  Calque sighed. ‘That happened years ago, Sabir. It’s been obvious to me for a long time. There has to be some rational explanation for the way you behave.’

  The Halach Uinic raised his hand placatingly. He was keen to put as much distance between himself and the smart-talking ex-policeman as possible. ‘We all need some sleep. We’ll see you both in the morning. At breakfast. Much will have clarified itself by then, I am sure. And Ixtab will be able to explain the rest to you. How the datura works. Collective visions. Things like that.’

  ‘Well I’m glad somebody will be able to.’ Sabir’s head was about to burst. He felt desperately thirsty. He wanted to skulk off and drink a gallon of cold water, take three Advil, and then escape into Lamia’s arms. It was with considerable relief that he watched the silhouettes of the four figures disappearing into the murk.

  As soon as they were safely gone, Calque grabbed Sabir by the shoulder and started hurrying him in the opposite direction.

  ‘What the heck’s the matter, Calque? Why are we in such a rush? You’re behaving mighty strangely all of a sudden.’

  Calque hustled him towards the great tree. ‘Listen. I’m probably about to make the biggest mistake of my life. But just bear with me, Sabir. If you’ve ever felt one iota of friendship for me, then now is your chance to prove it.’

  96

  Lamia wasn’t waiting for them at the lean-to.

  Sabir grabbed his head in both his hands in an effort to ward off his migraine. ‘She’s lost. It’s still dark as hell out there. And everyone’s asleep. There’s nobody to ask for directions. She’ll not have wanted to disturb anybody.’

  ‘That’s nonsense and you know it.’

  ‘I don’t know it. What are you trying to tell me, Calque? What’s this great call you intend to make on our friendship? You’re not going to tell me that Lamia has somehow moved from being your blue-eyed girl to being one of the enemy again?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Where are your car keys?’

  Sabir slapped his pockets. Then he looked blank. ‘They were in here.’

  ‘But she needed them for something, no?’

  Sabir nodded slowly. ‘Yes. She wanted a change of clothing before the ceremony. Access to her toothbrush. That sort of thing. That still doesn’t put her back in the Corpus camp. Come on, man. What are you thinking? That after all they did to her she’s still loyal to them?’

  ‘But what did they do to her?’

  ‘You tell me. You’re the one that found her. You’re the one that brought her along on this trip. You’re the one that tipped me the wink that she was attracted to me. Christ, Calque. You’re the best friend she has in the world. You’re going to feel like a total asshole when she comes skipping back in from wherever she’s managed to lose herself. I’ll do you a real favour, though. Give you a real proof of our friendship. I won’t tell her what you suspected.’

  Calque stared out at the gradually lightening sky. ‘They tied her up, put her on a table, and gave her a tranquillizer. That’s all they did to her.’

  ‘That would be enough for most people.’

  ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Her name.’

  ‘Her name?’

  ‘She lied to us about her name.’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘She told us that Lamia was the daughter of Poseidon and the mistress of Zeus. That that was her only significance. That Zeus accorded Lamia the gift of prophecy as a down payment for her services to him in bed. That she was unimportant in the general scheme of things.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So I thought about it. And then I thought about it some more. It niggled at me. All the other adoptive names – except for our old friend Achor Bale, aka Rocha de Bale, who was adopted at far too late an age for a name change – which in the case of a teenager like him would have had to have been referred to a juge des affaires familiales anyway …’

  ‘Calque, for crying out loud. You’re not on the police force any longer. You’re not making out a case for the prosecuting judge.’

  ‘The examining magistrate, please.’

  Sabir slapped his forehead in frustration, and then instantly regretted it. ‘What about the names? Tell me.’

  Calque sighed. ‘All the names of the Countess’s adoptive children are specific to some sort of demon or other. To one of the Devil’s henchmen, maybe, or to some other freak out of hell. Lamia explained all that to us. It’s categorical. Another of the Countess’s endearing little tics. So why should Lamia be any different?’

  ‘Why indeed?’ Sabir was beginning to look rather sick.

  ‘So when you were both up in your room doing whatever you were doing in that motel at Ticul, I phoned an old friend of mine in France. Got him to consult Lemprière’s Classical Dictionary. And one or two other books he happened to have to hand.’

  ‘Don’t tell me? Lamia was the Devil’s handmaiden, code name 666? Or maybe the Countess gave her the name of some famous female serial killer? The Countess Báthory, maybe?’

  ‘Nothing like that. The Countess Báthory’s given name was Erzsébet – Elizabeth to you.’

  ‘Come on, Calque. Don’t keep me in suspense. This is Lamia we’re talking about. The woman I happen to be in love with.’

  ‘That’s why I’m finding it so hard.’

  ‘Then make a superhuman effort and get over it.’ Sabir’s face looked livid and tormented in the fractional light of the early dawn. He looked as though he wanted to tear Calque apart with his bare hands.

  Calque cleared his throat. ‘Lamia was indeed Zeus’s mistress. But she wasn’t unimportant. Far from it. In fact Zeus’s wife, Hera, became so jealous of Lamia’s sway over her husband that she killed all Lamia’s children and deformed her.’

  ‘Deformed her? How?’

  ‘She turned her into half woman, half serpent. She became a child-murdering demon. Her name means “gullet” in Ancient Greek. She’d kill other people’s children in revenge for her own, and then suck their blood and eat them. Zeus tried to placate her by offering her the gift of prophecy. He even gave her the ability to pluck out her own eyes, the better to see into the future – a little like your Vision Serpent, no? Horace writes about her in his Ars Poetica: “Neu pranse Lamiae vivum puerum extrabat alvo.”’

  ‘Go on. Translate it for me. You’re dying to. My everyday Latin’s a little rusty.’

  ‘“Shall Lamia in our sight her sons devour, and give them back alive the self-same hour?” Forgive my English accent. That’s Alexander Pope’s translation. The best, really.’

  ‘There’s more. I can smell it on you. Don’t tell me you’re not en
joying this?’

  ‘I’m not enjoying it, Sabir. It’s making me sick to my stomach.’

  Sabir looked up quickly. The expression on his face underwent a brief transformation, as if a searchlight had shone across it. ‘I’m sorry, Calque. I must be feeling a little rattled. That was unfair. I know how fond you are of her. Go on. Tell me the rest. I promise not to murder the messenger.’

  Calque shrugged, but he was clearly touched by Sabir’s change of heart. ‘Some authorities even link her with Lilith, the first wife of Adam, believing they were one and the same person. Jerome, in the fifth-century Vulgate – Isaiah 34:14 to be precise – even translates Lilith as Lamia. His version of Lamia conceived a brood of monsters with Adam, and then later transmogrified into the sort of fairy-tale nasty that nurses and nannies used to threaten their charges with.’

  ‘My name is also Adam, Calque. The same as Lilith’s husband. You may not have noticed that.’

  ‘I noticed it. As, I believe, did she. She seduced you on purpose, man. Because she’d been told to. In Apuleius’s time, they used Lamia as a name for seductresses and harlots. John Keats said “Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake/Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love’s sake …”’

  ‘All right. Enough now. I can see why that poor bastard Macron found you so intensely irritating.’ Sabir was hiding it well, but the nausea in his stomach was rapidly overtaking the pain in his head. ‘I think I’m about to be sick.’ He pushed Calque away, and then doubled up, retching.

  When Sabir finally straightened up again, he realized that Calque had been joined by two new figures – one on either side of him. The first, an almost dwarf-like figure, was holding a very large pistol straight out ahead of her. Despite the fact that her hands could scarcely encompass the grip, the pistol was rock steady.

  The second person, also a woman, but this time of normal height, had her head cocked to one side, as though she was secretly rather amused by Sabir’s temporary affliction. ‘Is this them?’