Mayan December (13 page)

Nixie was climbing up near them. “Me, too.”

“Can we build a fire?” Peter asked.

“No,” Alice immediately answered. “To truly see the stars you need the blackest sky possible.”

“And we don’t want to attract attention,” Ian added.

Alice shivered.

They made a simple meal of the leftover snacks: potato chips, apples and Gatorade.

By the time they finished eating, there was barely enough light to see to put the bags and trash back in the backpack, and hang it from a tree in hopes it wouldn’t attract ants. They gathered close together, Alice and Nixie on one rock, Peter and Oriana each close by, and Ian above them. Ian looked up at the velvet-black sky shot through with stars. “So, you’re the archeoastronomer.”

He pronounced it right. She smiled. “I am.”

“What would the old Mayans have seen in this sky?”

“They knew most of our constellations, but had different words for them. What we call Monoceros and Canis Major, for example, are—roughly—the paddler gods, Stingray and Jaguar, in a celestial canoe. They tracked Venus very carefully, and knew its orbit more precisely than we did until the 1970s. Hold on . . . I think I can find it.” She should be able to do this easily, but the banquet of stars made it tougher. “There.” It hung low on the horizon, brighter than any stars around it. “Do you see it?”

She heard a soft laugh from Ian. “I think so,” and an “of course,” from Nixie, who had sat out with her at many observatories while she was working on the paper she’d just published.

“But what’s most important is they saw the stars as gods, as teachers, as guides. They understood complex astronomical terms that we didn’t document until much later.”

“So no one had to teach them the Earth isn’t the center of Universe?” Peter asked sleepily.

She laughed. “No, I don’t think so.” She licked her lips. It was a good question. “I don’t know. They did see the stars as influencing them and their world. Maybe I’d say they saw the Earth as
a
center, but not
the
center.”

Oriana asked, “What about in our time? I keep hearing about something special in the stars, some way they line up that’s very rare. Ian tried to explain it to me once, but I don’t think I fully understood it.”

In the moment Alice gave Ian to respond, Nixie said, “The equinox sun lines up with both the dark hole in the Milky Way and the center of the galaxy.”

Oriana giggled. “Okay. Pretty easy. Alice, how rare is that?”

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little giddy, “That happens about once every thirteen baktun’s. That means once every fifty-one centuries. It’s supposed to be a time when there are a lot of solar flares, too.”

“Ah,” Oriana said. “Rare.”

Peter spoke up. “There have been more flares lately.”

They all watched the stars in silence for a long time. Peter said, “We’ll need to set watches. Do you want me with Oriana or with you?”

So she and Ian had become joint leaders of the expedition? She swallowed. Ian was the strongest, and Peter the weakest, perhaps even weaker than Nixie. “I’ll take Oriana,” she replied, and Ian looked over at her, the starlight illuminating a conspiratorial wink that tickled her below the belly, making her warm and uneasy.

She and Oriana drew the first part of the dark of night. Good. She’d have stayed up anyway.

Ian and Peter lay out their ponchos on large flat rocks and stretched out on them. Alice couldn’t imagine how they’d actually sleep, but at least Ian hadn’t pulled the man card on her.

As Alice and Oriana climbed up to find good watch-spots, Nixie called up, “Mom, I can’t sleep. Can I sit with you?”

Alice reached a hand out to help Nixie up. “Sure.”

Nixie tucked herself next to Alice, head on Alice’s shoulder, and mother and daughter looked up together at the bright blaze of stars.

The dark rift in the Milky Way hung black as an iris above her, surrounded by the light of billions of stars and galaxies. If she closed her eyes halfway, softening her focus, it was easy to imagine being an astronomer in this ancient world. Half her time would have been spent in the glory of nights like this one, which progress had stolen from the world.

The river of stars sent enough light for Alice to make out the dark lines of Nixie’s eyelashes. The brilliance of each individual star shone clearer than she had ever seen from ground-based expeditions or photos. And unlike satellite shots, written over with numbers and dates and captured on square screens or scraps of paper, this sky had fullness. Dimension.

“It’s magic,” Nixie whispered.

That would have to do. Even if she didn’t believe in magic. The thought was wry now, and she smiled as the magic of the stars above penetrated all the way to her bones.

DECEMBER 19, 2012

CHAPTER 24

Birds sang the dawn home in time for Alice to open her eyes and see the ancient stars fade into a softening sky. She lay rooted to the stone, amazed at the variety of bird calls, the soft touch of the cool breeze, the rustle of animals in the dry trees and bushes. The weight of Nixie’s head no longer pinned her shoulder to the hard rock beneath her. She jerked up to a full sitting position, her eyes tracking to whispers across the white road.

Nixie and Oriana stood on the far said of the sacbe, using the first blush of dawn-light to take pictures of each other, of Ian sitting silhouetted against the red-orange sunrise, of Peter sleeping with a skinny arm over his long face, and of Alice herself stretching out the pain of sleeping on rocks.

Daylight made them visible. They couldn’t be caught here, not by old Mayans. The Secret Service! Adrenaline juiced her into sitting up, then standing and stretching. “Come on, we should get breakfast and go.”

Ian stood, stretching, a dark silhouette against the dawn, a wild man who could belong in this time. Then he turned and the light fell on his face and he looked like himself again, grinning at her.

She made a hurry-up motion with her hands, but couldn’t help smiling back.

By the time the sun painted brighter greens into the canopy, they were walking down the white road. The ants were gone, the road so clear that except for a few dark stains, the fight might never have occurred. Efficient little beasts.

Alice took the lead, making sure Nixie was close to her, driving the group quickly.

The sun and walk warmed Alice during the hour it took to reach the point where they had switched time, where the railroad ended. It did not appear under their feet and trip them. The road remained clear and open, new, the stones in neat rows, the spaces between filled with plaster made of white limestone dust and water.

Alice licked her lips, but stopped herself from stopping, made her feet go one in front of the other.

Ian must have sensed her unease; he came up beside Alice and said, “It will be okay.”

Absurdly, she wanted to call her Secret Service contact and warn her she might be a few minutes late. But of course, her phone would not work here. She looked up at Ian. “If you see a water source, stop.”

“Sure.” He skipped a few steps on the path, looking happy. He didn’t seem manic, or even silly, but just at peace with the situation. Kind of like a little boy.

But maybe cheerfulness was how he reassured himself. In spite of his clowning, he remained watchful and alert.

He took a few more dance-like steps and reached for her hand, encouraging her to join him.

She swallowed hard and took his hand, which was almost big enough to fold hers entirely inside it. She managed a few dance steps for Nixie, and then a few for herself.

It was okay.

Alice danced another few hundred feet, feeling silly and mystical all at once, before she blushed and fell back, letting Ian take the lead. She walked in the middle beside Nixie and listened to Peter and Oriana chatter about artificial intelligences and alternate universes and communication between stars.

Ian kept dancing.

She watched the side of the road, hoping to see something familiar even though it was surely madness or blind faith to even look, what with the clean, white stones underfoot. Still, they must be getting near the path back to their car. What if they passed it?

A dark-skinned man dropped down from a tree onto the road, directly in front of Ian.

Oriana screamed. Alice tensed, ready to run. Nixie gripped her arm. “He’s us,” she hissed with all the righteous indignation of an eleven-year-old who knew something her mom didn’t.

Alice blinked. The man could have been Mayan. Probably was Mayan. Now Mayan. He wore Nike sandals and a Hawaiian shirt over cut-off blue jeans, his dark, bare legs thin under a broad torso. The man reached for Ian and clucked him under the chin. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

Ian laughed, and hugged the man. He turned toward the others. “This is my Mayan benefactor, my teacher, my friend, Don Thomas Arulo.” Ian was grinning ear to ear, as happy as if he’d just won some great award. Ian introduced everyone around, leaving time for each of them to say something personal and welcoming to Don Thomas.

He saved her and Nixie for last. Don Thomas bent down to meet Nixie, taking a few extra minutes to gaze at her. “You,” he said, his English slow, “You did this.” His hand swept across the group of them. “Brought these people.”

Nixie was solemn as she gazed back at him, then she winked. “I brought Ian, too.”

Ian spluttered but didn’t deny it, laughing.

Don Thomas reached a hand out to Nixie. “Congratulations.”

She blushed, but shook his hand before turning to Alice. “This is my mom, Alice Cameron.”

Don Thomas’ dark eyes reminded her of an older version of Don Carlo, sure and regal but yet still full of warmth and humor. Maybe it was an indigenous Mayan trait that Ian had picked up, too. Alice saw the sea and the sky in Don Thomas’ eyes, even though they were brown rather than blue. It made her dizzy to be near him, and she breathed easier when he gave her a curt nod and turned his attention back to Ian.

The old shaman took Ian aside and spoke to him in low tones. Alice watched closely, interested, but still tapping her foot as time passed. Ever since he’d dropped down and startled them, she’d felt lighter, more split. As if his very presence made them no longer
heavy in this world
.

When Ian and Don Thomas stepped back toward the group, Ian looked at Alice. “I’m going to Tulum with him. He says time is so thin we can see it like it was.”

Of course they could. Nixie had done it just yesterday. Alice frowned, suddenly feeling alone. “We need to get back.”

Nixie bit her lip. “I can do it. I can get us back. You go on.”

Ian laughed. “We will go back together. Don Thomas and I will drive to Tulum. After all, it’s a full day’s walk from here.”

Alice blinked. “So you’re going back to the cars with us?”

Don Thomas shook his head but said, “Yes.”

She felt tension leak from tight muscles in her back and shoulders as he took off for the side of the road, the sun finally hot enough to make heat-shimmers on the road behind him. He turned around. “Come on.”

Not heat-shimmers. The branch with Nixie’s yellow hair-band wrapped around the end nearly brushed Don Thomas’ head. Alice walked, certain this time that it was Don Thomas she followed through time rather than her daughter. The thought didn’t bring as much comfort as she might have expected. Now that the adventure—this part of the adventure—was over, the strangeness of the whole thing hit her and she clutched Nixie’s hand as they walked, her senses searching for any shift as they moved from now to now.

She turned around after they went through, looking back for Peter and Oriana. They seemed caught in a tunnel, the white road behind them, first clear, then fuzzy. As they passed the hair-band, the jungle was simply there, the broken stones and rusted railroad testament to when they all were.

In spite of her need to hurry, Alice called, “Wait!” and raced back by the yellow marker, passing it, moving fast. She only stopped when she nearly tripped on the old broken road. She looked up and down. Everything here was from now. She wanted to scream for joy, but settled for doing a few more dance steps like the ones she and Ian had done on the old sacbe.

Nixie retrieved her hair band and shoved it in her pocket.

It seemed to take only moments to get back to the tourist village and Ian’s jeep. A beat-up rusty brown VW bug with Mexican plates was tucked beside the jeep.

No one came to greet them. Maybe they still slept, or were out. Alice glanced down at her phone, now ringed with icons for news and weather and GPS satellites.

It was 7:00 am or AM
.
She had promised to be in Cancun at 8:30, which meant she’d be late. Her brain was filling itself with the comforting logistics of clear tasks. Shower. Get her car. A meeting with the Secret Service goons to prepare for Marie and a talk at another conference. She had been nervous about it, and now it seemed normal, small, and comforting. She laughed.

Ian stepped over near her, really quite close. “Take the jeep. You can leave it in the lot at your complex. Oriana can stay there with Nixie.”

She didn’t want him to leave; maybe she’d worry. But there was no place for him in her day, either. “You’re really going back?”

He nodded. “How could I not? We need to figure out what’s happening, right?”

She nodded. It wasn’t as if it were her choice.

He leaned down so close she felt the soft brush of his hair against her ear. “You’ll be all right?”

“How do I know? Is anything going to be all right? Are you going to be all right?” She glanced over at Don Thomas. “Can he get you there and back? And when will I see you again?”

Ian grinned and leaned even closer, pulling her into him, covering her lips with his. She stiffened, and then his hands caressed her back and she gave in, too off balance to resist. His lips were warm and she was suddenly hungry for him, returning the kiss. It felt like fire and heat and food, like losing herself. She hadn’t kissed, not like this, not in years.

When he pushed gently away a few moments later, her eyes felt damp and her center warm. As he gazed at her, she laughed at the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Take care of yourself.”

He turned away from her, toward Don Thomas.

She glanced over to find Nix had her camera up to her face, laughing and blushing. She looked pleased. Alice frowned, her cheeks suddenly hot.

Behind her, Ian said, “Peter? You coming with me?”

And then Don Thomas, Peter and Ian were folding themselves into the tiny old beetle, Ian in the driver’s seat, Don Thomas beside him, and Peter in the back with his head bowed a little so he would fit. The car started up with a chugging rattle.

Ian held a hand out the window, signaling, “After you,” and she scrambled into the jeep, noting that Oriana and Nixie were both in the back seats, seatbelts on, ready.

She pulled out and preceded Don Thomas down the bumpy road toward the
Real Mayans Here
sign. She felt like singing.