by Evan Hunter
There was excitement in his eyes, though, as he spoke to Neil of the voyage.
“The harvest will be a good one, and we will have plenty of food for our trip. My men can handle the ship, Neil. I know they can. And soon we will be home.”
Chapter 17 — Homeward Bound
ERIK’S prophecy regarding an abundant harvest proved correct. The Mayas, up long before dawn, worked in the fields until sunset, gathering fruit and vegetables. All day long processions of sweating men laden with baskets of food filed into the city.
The women took the baskets, sorted them, put them into baskets again, and brought them to the storehouse.
The hunters, too, went out to the woods early every morning, returning at night with carcasses on their shoulders and their pouches full of game.
Meanwhile, Erik and his men worked on the Norse ship, like a horde of grasshoppers, hammering and sawing, twisting rope, tightening seams, reinforcing the sail for the long trip ahead.
Erik seemed to be everywhere at once, issuing an order here, carrying a heavy piece of lumber there, sweating and singing with the men in his crew.
And Dave, caught up in the fever of preparation that had swept over the city, doubled his efforts on the time machine.
Neil, because he had less to do, grew more restless now than he had ever been.
Talu came to him one day. “We have gathered in the maize,” he said. “Will you and Erik now show us what to do with it?”
They went down to the beach, where the Norse ship was beginning to look brand-new, its planks scrubbed clean, its shields glistening.
Erik was anxious to explain the use of the maize and, together, they walked into the city where bushels upon bushels of maize were being accumulated.
Erik held several grains in the palm of his hand.
“This is good maize,” he said, grinning happily.
“But how do we eat it?” Talu asked.
“You must first shell it and then allow it to soak overnight.”
“In water?”
“Yes,” Erik replied. “Water mixed with a little lime.”
“And then?”
“In the morning have your women rinse the grain in fresh water.”
“And then can we eat it?”
“You do not understand,” Erik said. “This is not something to be eaten as a tomato or a bean.”
“How then?” Talu wanted to know.
“It is to be eaten with tomatoes or with meat or with your other foods. It is nourishing and filling and it will solve many of your food problems.”
“How do we prepare it?” Talu asked.
“You must secure a flat stone, preferably one with a concave surface. Place the maize grains on this and, with another stone or a piece of rounded wood, grind the maize until it becomes a fine paste.”
“I still do not understand.”
“Your women will make this paste into thin cakes, kneading it with their hands. You will then put these on a thin, flat stone — any of your pottery will do — and bake them over a fire. Take care that the flame is a slow-burning one.”
“And the taste?”
“The taste is somewhat flat, but you can dip them in chili pepper. And then, you can always eat maize cakes with your other foods. You will see how it supplements your meals.”
Talu nodded sagely. “We will try it. If it does as you say, we will plant it again. We can use all the food we can get.”
“It will be important to you,” Erik said. “Try it.”
The next day the Mayas began carrying food to Erik’s ship. They streamed onto the beach, handing basket after basket of food to the Norsemen. The baskets were lifted over the side of the ship: potatoes, squash, beans, pears, plums, tomatoes, papaya, chili. Jars of honey, sides of the cured meat of deer, wild boar, turkeys, and small birds.
And along with the stock of food, Talu brought something for Erik to taste.
It was flat and a pasty white color, and it looked very much like a pancake.
Erik bit into it and rolled it around on his tongue.
“Excellent,” he said.
“This is the cake we prepared from the maize. As you say, it is excellent. My people thank you, Erik.”
“And may we have some for our journey?” Erik asked.
Talu grinned. “They are being basketed now. You will have plenty, my friend.”
Water came next. The Mayas struggled onto the beach with enormous jars and hoisted them over the side of the ship.
These were firmly lashed in place, fore and aft, along with the stock of food that the Norsemen had taken aboard.
“Is there enough?” Talu asked at last.
“More than enough,” Erik replied. His face split into a wide grin. “Your people are good, Talu . I wish there were some way to repay you.”
“You have already repaid us,” Talu said.
Neil watched silently as the last of the food was loaded. The Norsemen began climbing aboard, and the Mayas now brought gifts to the ship, jewelry, pottery, fine ornaments of beautifully wrought gold, highly polished semiprecious stones, robes brilliantly embroidered, feathered capes and headdresses, weapons, and small stone carvings.
Erik accepted all these gifts graciously. He stood ready to board his ship, ready to sail to his own land, far across the sea.
Slowly his hands moved to the helmet on his head. He lifted it gingerly and brought it down to hold it before his chest. The sunlight glanced off the shining metal, and the wings on either side of the helmet seemed poised to fly.
“I have accepted your many gifts,” Erik said to Talu , “for which my humblest thanks. And now, I would have you accept a gift from me, a gift you refused when first we met.” He held out the winged helmet.
“Take this, my friend, and keep it well. Let it serve as a reminder, perhaps, of the sacrifices your gods will accept.”
Talu’s old eyes studied the kindly face, the stalwart figure of the big Norseman.
“It will remind us of many things, my friend,” he said. He took Erik’s hand and shook it. “May the gods be with you on your long voyage.”
“Thank you,” said Erik. His eyes sought Neil’s, and he turned to his young friend. He took Neil’s hand and held it firmly.
“Neil,” he said simply.
Neil bit his lip. It wouldn’t do to cry. He was going to miss this big Norseman.
“It was a lucky wind that threw us together,” Erik said. “I have enjoyed knowing you.”
“I . . . I have too,” Neil stammered.
A sudden inspiration seemed to strike Erik.
“Would you like to sail with us, Neil? Visit my homeland? Stay with us for a little while?”
Neil hesitated.
“Only for a little while,” Erik coaxed. “You can go home to your own land after that.”
If only it were that simple, Neil thought.
“No, Erik.” he replied. “My parents are waiting for me. And I too am anxious to see my own home.”
Erik sighed. “Perhaps, then, we shall meet again sometime.” He squeezed Neil’s hand. “You will always have a friend in Erik, Neil.”
With that he slapped a big hand onto the head of his ax and whirled suddenly. “Prepare to sail,” he shouted.
He turned again to Neil and seized him by the shoulders with his big hands. “You’re sure, Neil?”
“I’d like to, Erik. But. . .”
“Well, enough, then,” Erik said, a smile brightened his face. “A man has his own duties. Get home safely, my friend.”
“Good luck, Erik.”
The Norseman whirled and clambered up the side of the ship. Several sailors on the beach put their shoulders against the bow of the ship, pushing hard against it until the vessel floated free in the water. They scampered up the sides as the oars lifted into the air and pulled against the sand in the low water.
Slowly the ship edged away from the beach. The Norsemen shouted good-bys at the Mayas, and the Mayas wished them well, waving at the
m, bidding the gods to treat them gently.
Erik stood in the glare of the afternoon sun, his head bare, his hair and his beard glistening like molten gold. He stood tall and erect, a proud figure in command of a valiant crew.
He waved once at Neil as the ship moved away.
Then the oars pulled against the water and the sail billowed out, and the ship became smaller and smaller, until it was lost at last in the blue expanse of limitless ocean.
Neil stood watching the sea long after the ship had disappeared beyond the horizon.
The days were lonelier now that Erik and his Norsemen were gone. Neil wandered aimlessly about the city, watching the Mayas in their daily chores. Dave, he knew, was busy on the time machine, and he didn’t want to disturb him.
The thought of getting home had become a pressing weight that he carried on his back, for under it all was the recurring thought that they might never reach home. Considering this deeply and anxious to see how the machine was coming along, Neil went to the place where Dave was working.
The machine looked much better now. The twisted rotors were straight, ready to carry the machine into the air. Dave had patched the shattered part of the lower bubble with deerskin, and the control room had taken on a semblance of unity and efficiency again.
Dave, however, looked sad.
“What’s the trouble?” Neil asked. “Something can’t be fixed?”
“That’s just it,” Dave answered. “I’ve fixed everything that can be fixed. The machine should be ready to leave any time.”
“Well, that’s wonder . . .”
“I said it should be ready.”
“I don’t understand. You said you’d fixed everything that could be fixed.”
“That’s just it. There’s a part missing.”
“A . . . part . . . missing,” Neil repeated blankly.
“Look, Neil, I don’t know how much you understand about the operation of the machine.”
“Not very much,” Neil admitted.
“Well, I’ll try to give you a quick briefing. You see, when your father discovered the temporium crystal, he also discovered that it had rather peculiar qualities.
“To explain these qualities briefly, let’s just say that a high frequency, low voltage current of electricity, when applied to two opposing facets of the crystal, will cause the crystal to travel in time.”
“I’m afraid you lost me back there,” Neil admitted.
Dave wiped his hand across his forehead. “Let’s look at it this way. We’ll assume, and this is all guesswork you understand, that time is really alternating, or oscillating back and forth at a high rate of speed. Do you follow?”
“I think so.”
“All right. Let’s assume further that all normal matter — you, me, a house, a rock — has a slight resistance in one direction to this oscillation. Something like the crystal detectors of the first radios had to alternating current.”
“I think I understand. Go on.”
“This resistance allows matter to be pushed slowly through time in one direction; the direction being from past to present to future.”
“I see,” Neil said. “This has nothing to do with the time machine, really. It’s just a theory on time and matter.”
“Well, yes and no. It’s a theory, yes, but it also can help explain the time crystal.”
“Go on.”
“Well, we’ve discovered that with the iodine salt of temporium — with temporium iodide, in other words — we can control this resistance of matter to time. In other words, we can make matter move through time more swiftly.”
“Now we’re getting down to the time machine.”
“Right,” Dave said. “We’ve found that by applying electricity to the facets on the short sides of the crystal we can move the crystal forward in time. If the crystal’s long sides are given the juice, it will move backward. In short, the crystal will travel.”
“But what about the machine? How does that travel?”
“Well, the effect of the crystal seems to spread out beyond the crystal. It’s sort of like a sphere with the crystal as a nucleus. Incidentally, that’s why the machine has helicopter rotors.”
“Why?” Neil asked.
“If we took off from the ground, the crystal would try to take the ground with it. It isn’t powerful enough to lift that much weight, though, so it would simply blow a fuse.”
“I get it,” Neil said. “This way, we go into the air first, and then activate the crystal. It doesn’t matter if we carry air along with us.”
“Exactly.”
“So what’s the problem?” Neil asked.
“Just this,” Dave replied. “I’m missing an oscillator coil. Without that, I can’t supply high-frequency current to the crystal.”
“Well, why don’t you make one?”
“With what? I haven’t a piece of copper in the entire machine that can be used. Remember, it’s mostly aluminum. We planned it that way so it’d be lighter.”
“Is copper the only thing we can use?”
“No, there are other good conductors of electricity. But you can bet your boots these Mayas haven’t got any of them.”
Neil thought silently for a moment.
“What about gold?” he asked.
“Gold?”
“They’ve got plenty of that,” Neil said. “Will it con . . .
“Gold!” Dave threw his arms around Neil and hugged him tightly. “Of course! How could I have missed it?”
“It’ll do?” Neil asked.
“Will it do? Gold is a much better conductor than copper, Neil.” He began to laugh. “But who can afford it?”
The Mayas could afford it.
Neil and Dave watched carefully as the gold was heated. The Maya jeweler looked at the oscillator coil curiously and then shaped the gold into an exact duplicate.
Dave could hardly wait for the jeweler to dip the coil into a jar of water. A sizzling spurt of steam shot out of the jar, and the jeweler reached in for the coil and handed it to Dave. The engineer thanked him hastily and ran back to the machine, holding the precious coil between careful fingers.
And so the Mayas were witness to two leave-takings within the space of a week.
Gifts were again presented, prayers were offered to the gods, and then they stood in a circle around the ship as Neil and Dave prepared to leave.
Talu was confused. “You are not taking your ship to the beach?” he asked.
“No,” Neil replied. “We are leaving from within the city.”
“But I do not understand.”
“Do not be frightened,” Neil said. “Whatever happens, do not be frightened.”
“May the gods go with you,” Talu said. He shook hands with Neil and Dave.
“Take care of your people,” Neil said, gripping the priest’s hand.
He stepped into the machine and sealed the hatchway, looking out over the clean, ordered streets of Chichen-Itza. The Mayas crowded around the machine as the two travelers mounted the aluminum steps leading to the control room.
Dave sat before the control panel. He held up a pair of crossed fingers and said, “Here’s hoping.”
“Amen,” Neil offered.
Dave turned on the ignition and the motor hummed into fife.
He waited several seconds before he said, “Up we go.”
Slowly, slowly, the machine began to rise.
“So far, so good,” Dave said.
Below them, Neil could hear the gasps of wonder as the Mayas watched the machine rise.
“Here goes the time crystal,” Dave said. He reached out for a switch on the panel, and a steady hum filled the machine.
The machine continued rising slowly, and finally Dave said, “Space travel is going on full speed, Neil. I’m cutting in the time crystal.”
Neil remembered the time when Dave had first said those words. It was long, long ago. Shortly afterwards the machine had crashed.
Dave reached for another switch on t
he instrument panel, and a louder hum filled the control room. Outside, everything turned gray, a swirling, turbulent fog that swept past the portholes.
Dave sighed deeply.
“Nothing to do now but wait.”
“And hope,” Neil added.
They brought the machine down much, much later.
Dave had cut off the time crystal, and the gray outside had settled into the pale light of twilight.
“By all the instruments, this should be it.”
Neil felt a momentary pang of fear. “And if it isn’t?”
Dave shrugged. “If it isn’t . . .”
“If it isn’t,” Neil answered his own question, “we might be anywhere, any time again.
“That’s right.”
The machine dropped slowly to the ground, Dave steering it between the weathered treetops below them.
At last it dropped to a gentle rest between two large trees. The men climbed down the ladder and stepped out of the machine.
“A forest,” Neil said.
Overhead, the sound of birds filled the deepening gloom.
“Mm-m-m-m,” Dave answered.
“But where?” Neil asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Dave said. “Let’s start hiking.”
For about ten minutes they walked in silence, without seeing any sign of anyone or anything familiar.
“You know,” Dave said suddenly, “I just thought of something.”
“What?” Neil asked.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if we were right back in the forest outside Chichen-Itza?”
Neil stopped. “Is . . . is that possible?”
“Sure. Anything’s possible with this baby.”
Neil started walking again. But this time his eyes were on the lookout for strange animals. And more than once he thought he could see the slitted yellow eyes of a jaguar peering from behind the low bushes around them.
Chapter 18 — A God Is Found
NIGHT fell quickly in the forest, a black shroud covering everything in deep, bold shadow.
Neil and Dave plodded onward, their doubts increasing with the deepening gloom.
The night insects took up their songs, chirping in the darkness. Overhead the stars blinked shyly at first and then filled the sky with their dazzling light. A thin crescent of a moon hung against the sky like a big, winking eye.
