by M. G. Herron
“And today we found a plant in the Well of Sacrifices, where the green glow seems to originate. It devours the bodies of the sacrifices that are thrown into the Well. I think that Xucha put it there, and if we remove it we will hamper his ability to control our people through sacrifice.”
Eliana translated for Reuben.
“Is it a machine?” he asked. “If it is, maybe I can help them destroy it.”
“He said it was a plant… but if it’s glowing like that, maybe it is some kind of biotechnology. You’ve seen Xucha’s black suit, and the orbs that follow him around.”
She had also seen those tentacles around the edge of the rift on the Kakul side. Even now, it was unsettling to think about.
“Could be,” Reuben admitted. “That orb seems more advanced than any weapon we’ve ever built. Whatever engine makes it hover would be worth billions on Earth.”
Eliana translated Reuben’s offer of help back to Rakulo, keeping it simple with her basic command of the language. He nodded his appreciation. Then Eliana finally told him about Xucha’s appearance in Amon’s lab.
“Really?” he said. “I thought only you could travel between worlds. If Xucha can as well…” He shook his head, obviously overwhelmed by what he was up against.
“It’s scary, I know,” Eliana said. “Xucha came to get the carbonado.”
Rakulo cocked his head at the English word carbonado.
“What my ring was made out of,” she explained.
His whole body sagged, crestfallen. Then he nodded in understanding. “Xucha took my ring, a few days ago, after Maatiaak and his men ambushed me.”
“Maybe that’s how he opened the rift,” Reuben suggested after she translated this new information. “With the stone from the ring. The carbonado is clearly a power source or amplifier of some kind. That’s how Amon has been using it to interface with the Hopper, too. There’s so much still that we don’t know about the material.”
They hadn’t told Rakulo about the rift, and most of what Reuben said didn’t translate, so Eliana simply said, “My friend says that now Xucha is going to be an even more dangerous enemy.”
“No one ever said fighting a God would be easy,” Rakulo responded. He leaned forward in the firelight. “Can you use your magic to take me on the other side of the wall?”
She nodded. “Probably.”
Amon wouldn’t like it…but would he be able to refuse? After all this talk of Xucha, she was worried for him now. She wanted to make sure Amon was all right. “Can you contact Amon now?”
Reuben adjusted the transponder on his wrist and pressed a button while Rakulo watched him intently. The light blinked red, then green for several long minutes. It probably took longer here because of the distance from Earth. But after a minute, the device switched back to solid red.
Reuben groaned.
“What does that mean?” Eliana said, panic suffusing her body, accompanied by a sudden cold sweat.
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong on Amon’s end. Do you think that rift is still open? Whatever it is, it seems like we’re stuck here for now.”
Not again.
Eliana sighed. At least this time she was here by choice.
27
One Problem at a Time
Amon turned to Wes, surveying the destruction and death that littered his lab, and threw his anger like a glass full of acid in Wes’s direction.
“You’re in charge of security! You let this happen!”
The hostages stood near the blast door huddled close together like scared animals. Only Agent Moreno seemed to have gathered his wits. He was talking with the secretary from CERN, who was cutting his hands free from the plastic zip ties with a knife from the lounge.
“My fault?” Wes said. “Is it my fault that Lucas stole the plans to your Translocator and built his own, fucked up version? Is it my fault that—that—that thing stole the carbonado and killed anyone who pointed a gun at it?”
Wes, gazing down and apparently realizing he was standing in the nexus where six severed heads and the well-muscled bodies they belonged to had fallen, paled and swallowed. He took two steps closer to Amon. There was no blood near the fallen bodies, but the smell of singed flesh hung thick in the air.
Amon raised his chin and stared a challenge at Wes, who returned it. Then he sniffed as if Wes wasn’t worth his time, and turned away.
Amon still didn’t know if Wes was the mole. Probably it was that guard Roger. But it didn’t matter right now.
He eyed the fist of darkness that hung in the air near his Translocator. The computer said it gave off a strong magnetic field. Amon reached out a finger to touch it, then jerked his hand away. Who knew what that thing would do if he touched it. Shock his hand? Freeze it? Rip it off?
Eliana and Reuben were counting on him. Amon needed to take care—and he needed help. Immediately.
“I’ve seen that thing before—the man in black,” Amon said. “I saw it when I rescued Eliana from that hellhole she disappeared to. She told me the people who live there think it’s their God. They call him Xucha.”
“Don’t tell me she’s still holding on to that theory,” Wes scoffed.
“Shut up.” Amon pointed a finger at Wes. “If you say anything else about my wife, I will fire you. If you do anything but be helpful here, you’re done at Fisk Industries. Fuck what the board says. I will destroy you if you get in my way now.”
Amon held Wes’s gaze. Wes finally nodded.
“What is that?” Wes asked, pointing toward the ball of blackness.
“Nothing known to modern physics, that’s for sure. We need backup. Fortunately, the brightest minds are at our disposal.”
Wes and Amon both turned to the CERN scientists who were stuck here. Agent Moreno had managed to free his hands and now stood over Agent Wiley’s eviscerated body.
“But first, we have to clean this up. Do me a favor and don’t let anyone near this thing until I get backup.”
Wes nodded, positioning his body so he could see both the black fist suspended in the air, the door, and all the bodies between. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket. “All right. I’ll make some calls. We’ll close down the lab, inform the LTA, and get backup security in here. Tell your FBI friend to keep the local police out of this. We don’t need any more bad press.”
“I’m on it,” Amon said.
Agent Moreno was still staring at the body of Agent Monica Wiley, his former partner. Amon put a hand gently on the man’s rounded shoulder and thought about Eliana. With any luck, the distraction of Lucas and the short and painful scuffle with Amon had granted her and Reuben enough time to get clear before that monster got to them.
Reuben had taken a transponder with him, but a fat lot of good that would do with the Hopper frozen up by that…that…wormhole Xucha had left behind.
Amon didn’t think the sick feeling in his stomach could get any worse. But it did. He wanted to puke.
“The whole thing was a trap,” Agent Moreno said. “They knew we were coming.”
Amon reminded himself to breathe. One problem at a time, right, isn’t that what Eliana would have told him? Focus, honey, he could hear her voice in his mind. Deal with one problem at a time.
“It had to have been Lucas,” Amon said. “He pulled me away, too, with the diversion on the lunar base. But with that wormhole thing, I can’t use the Translocator to send them any more aid. They’ve had to resort to life-support systems while they fix the damage.”
“You went to the moon? Jesus. That’s still hard to wrap my mind around. What happened?”
“Not sure. An explosion of some kind? Or sabotage. Do you think the mole is on the lunar base?”
“With another Translocator out there, we can’t be sure of anything. I need to call backup.”
“No local cops, please. This needs to stay under wraps. If the media gets wind of this—”
“Lucas would love that, I’m sure,” Agent Moreno said dryly.
“You
only just met the man, and yet you know him so well.”
“I know the type—the polished appearance hides an ego the size of your Translocator.”
Amon pretended not to notice the slight.
“Most of my career was in white collar crime. Trust me, I know the type. I’ve been chasing them a long time,” Agent Moreno went on. “I agree with you, though—no local cops. But I have to report back to the Bureau Chief. And get an FBI medical examiner out here, pronto.”
“I understand. Thanks.”
Agent Moreno’s chest rose and fell heavily. As he held his phone to his ear and turned away, Amon’s own phone rang in his pocket. It was Audrey.
“Audrey, hey.”
“What is going on, Amon? Eliana called me freaking out, and now her phone is out of service. Are you okay? She said there were men with guns there!”
“Deep breaths, Audrey. I’m okay. Eliana is gone. She went back to Kakul.”
“What? And you let her?”
“Well, no—” He could feel his temper rising. “She didn’t exactly ask me.”
But she had, hadn’t she? Why had he been so stubborn? She was undoubtedly in more danger now than she ever would have been had Amon offered to assist her. He could have sent protection with her, trained security guards, FBI agents, LTA scientists, a paramedic…
Now she was back on that blasted planet alone with only Reuben to help her, and he was stuck here. Again. And it was all his fault.
Deal with one problem at a time.
“Audrey, can you come in? I know it’s late, but there’s more bad news. Your carbonado is gone, too.”
“WHAT?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll tell you what happened when you get here.”
“I’m parking now. Eliana left me samples and I need to get them and take them up to my lab. Um, I should also say that Eliana wanted me to call the cops. They beat me here.”
“Oh no. Audrey, do not let them inside! I’ll be right there.”
Amon disconnected the call and pocketed his phone. “Agent Moreno! I need you. Now!”
Moreno nodded, spoke a hasty goodbye to whatever FBI official was on the other end of his phone call. Amon heard Moreno’s shoes striking the floor as he hurried to catch up. He was already preparing lies to stall the police until Wes warned the LTA and Moreno’s FBI people had time to get there.
28
Fiber of Being
The magical device Eliana and her odd white-haired friend brought with them was broken. Rakulo had Quen fetch woven blankets for them.
“Rest,” he told them. “We’ll keep watch.”
They stretched out in a corner and fell asleep.
Yeli and Quen took the first watch, and Rakulo also lay down to rest. But sleep didn’t come quickly. His mind spun with thoughts of the green-glowing water, with visions of the plant that had eviscerated and absorbed the body of the sacrifice that fell into the water.
Was that what had happened to old Ekel? Had Maatiaak cut his throat and tossed him into the Well?
The experience had made a strong impression upon him. Rakulo had seen sacrifices from the top of the cenote many times. Up there, the sacrifice seemed like mysterious ritual magic, the inner workings of which were only visible to the minds of the gods.
Being on the level with it, seeing the plant devour a body with his own eyes—that was different. It changed how he saw things. Xucha was bound to the plant somehow. It was his mouth, and the river his stomach. What would happen if Rakulo destroyed the mouth, as the old man, Reuben, had suggested? Would it stop feeding the stomach?
Could it really be that simple?
He worried for his mother. He worried for the children. He worried for all the people of his little village. What chance of survival would they have if a faction of loyalists among them insisted on continuing the bloody tradition of sacrifice out of fear? Would they continue to feed Xucha for the rest of time? Would there ever be an end?
Sleep finally came, but it was restless and filled with dreams of falling.
Rakulo woke early and took the last watch.
He stoked the fire and was now inspecting the canoe for damage, the one he and Quen had hauled painstakingly back upstream to the cave. It had a few chips and dents in the hull, and one thin crack where the wood had begun to split. The crack hadn’t penetrated through the body of the boat, however, so it would continue to function as intended.
Eliana stirred. She sat up as the first rays of dawn filtered into the dark cave. Her eyes were swollen with sleep, and she rubbed at them with the back of her hand.
“There’s water if you want to wash,” Rakulo told her.
The man called Reuben awoke next, yawning and stretching. When he stood, he cranked at his back muscles with knotted fists. Eliana returned a moment later.
“You were wet last night when you came in,” she said. “Did you come through that?” She pointed to the back of the cave.
“It’s an underground river. Quen and I were looking for a way under the Wall.”
“Did you find one?”
He nodded. “Maybe.”
The old man said something Rakulo didn’t understand. Their language was quick, and the old man spoke like he had rocks in his mouth, mumbling and blending his words into a string of unintelligible sentences. The old man seemed even odder than Gehro did some days, his eyes wild with excitement when he spoke. Maybe these pale, tall people weren’t so different from them after all, except for their clothes made of strange, tightly-woven cloth, and the colorful shoes they wore.
“What’s he saying?” Rakulo asked.
“He wants to see this thing,” Eliana said, “the plant you found in the water. He said he might be able to help you find out how to destroy it, or at least learn more about it. He’s good at taking things apart, especially…” She grimaced as if searching for a word. She took a reflective rectangle out of her pocket and tapped it with one finger. “Especially tools. He is a…builder.”
“Can he help me fix this crack in the canoe?”
“Not that kind of builder.”
Reuben bared his teeth.
If this man really could help them destroy the plant and strike a blow at Xucha, then Rakulo had a responsibility to humor him. At least to see what he might have to offer.
“Yes,” he said. “You’ll both need to come. I can’t understand him without you. Can he swim?”
She told Reuben the news. Reuben reached down, took Rakulo’s hand, and shook it vigorously.
“We can leave soon,” Reuben said as he withdrew his hand, bemused.
“One thing, Rakulo,” Eliana said. “When we get back, I need to go look for something in Uchben Na.”
He shook his head in a firm denial.
“Yes. I have to go.”
“It’s not safe. Xucha is still out there. As is Maatiaak.”
Eliana’s face darkened. “I’m going, Rakulo.”
“Maatiaak’s men are still patrolling the jungle. They control the village, and the city of stones.”
“Rakulo, I have to go. It’s the whole reason I came back.”
He cocked his head at that. “Why?”
Eliana’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “I’m looking for some carvings on the buildings. I need to know more about their history. They look like buildings in my world. The only place to find the answers I seek is in Uchben Na. Maybe I can find out more about your history, too, like how you came to be here.”
Rakulo didn’t care how they came to be here. All he cared about was how they got out of Xucha’s domain, outside the Wall, to freedom. But how could he explain this to an outsider? She came and went as she pleased. It infuriated him, made him feel even more powerless and trapped than he normally did. When her magic was working, she could be gone again in a moment, back to her own world. She didn’t know what it was like to be stuck here.
Rakulo fought down his temper. He took three deep breaths through his nose. He closed his eyes and counted to ten.
“I’ll take you to Uchben Na myself—as soon as it is safe,” Rakulo said. “Not until then. But I promise I will take you when it is safe.”
“Okay,” Eliana said, pursing her lips. “Thank you.”
He hoped she would not try to go behind his back, but he knew better than to try to force her to do anything. She was one of the strongest, most willful women he had ever met, and that included Citlali and his mother. She had earned his respect standing up to his father, despite how things had turned out in the end.
Rakulo woke Quen, and together he, Eliana, and Reuben carried the canoe to the back to the cave. Rakulo woke Citlali and pulled her aside as well.
“We’re taking Eliana through the river to the Well, where Quen and I went yesterday. Her friend thinks he knows how to help us destroy it.”
Citlali grunted. “If it works, Xucha will bring his wrath down upon us.”
“Maybe,” Rakulo said.
“He has before, and we’ve never tried to destroy the Well before.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does! I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. But we pay the price either way—slowly, in sacrifices, or quickly, in retribution. There is no path out of this situation that doesn’t involve blood and death. At least this way, we’re in control—we get to make the next move. And what if it works? If we destroy the Well…”
“It could make things better. Or it could make them worse.”
“It is not about best or worst. It is what we have to do. I’m done waiting.”
“I know. I just hope you’re right.”
“Me, too.”
