The Days of Peleg (33 page)

Manco Krievo held his bruised neck in his hand. He had been struck on the side and his jaw was swollen, but miraculously not broken. His slurred speech betrayed his pain.

“What do we do?” he asked, his eyes filled with fear. “What do we tell the non-Survivor priests?”

“What do we tell the people?” demanded Manco Chivo.

Their High Priest looked down on them with fiery eyes which communicated both his towering rage and agonizing loss. He looked down at the muddy robes which appeared as if their occupants had simply vanished, letting them drop in piles around the stone table.

“We shall tell them this:”

He waited until all eyes were fastened on his.

“The Waca are real! They have killed three priests. We must be forever vigilant should more of their kind appear.”

The mid-morning sun burned the last of the fog away, and the fugitives could now look across the sea. They had entered the beach to the left of the main piers, and small crafts similar to the ones Thaxad had commented on earlier could be seen circling that area and moving along the shoreline.

Thankfully, none were coming in their direction.

“We should be safe here for a while,” stated Manco Chavin. “They will be looking for you to return to the paths we used when we arrived.”

He looked at Thaxad.

“They will thoroughly search the regions you need to travel to return to your ship.”

“What should we do now?” asked Peleg.

“We will rest for a few hours, then swim from one reed raft to the next. We need to get as far north as possible before going ashore. If we see a patrol vessel approaching, we can hide under one of these reed mats where there are air pockets.”

Peleg did not enjoy the thought of treading more water.

“That is completely in the wrong direction,” protested Thaxad. “We must return immediately to our ship which is somewhere off the coast, far to the southwest! Our Captain will leave in less than four weeks!”

“You can never make it,” Manco Chavin declared with a sad urgency in his eyes. “The priests can not let you live. Besides, even if you were not hindered by hunters and
could
travel freely, you still could not make the trip in that time.”

He looked at each of them.

“It took you three weeks just to find me.”

Manco Chavin let the heavy reality sink in before he continued.

“My thought is this: There are artisans and sculptors who live on the plateaus north of the sea. I believe these plains extend to the west and perhaps we could make it to the coast where one of their small vessels could reach your ship in time.”

Peleg looked at Thaxad.

“I don’t see any alternative,” he said gently.

They rested quietly, adjusting to their new reality.

As the sun rose in the sky, they began to absorb the warmth and light which they had been denied the previous day. The surface of the matte adjusted to the contours of the waves beneath, gently rocking them as they all fell asleep except Serug, whose stomach would not stop growling.

For the past six months, Reiimu had been diligently adjusting the weights and calibrating the pressure valves and water levels in his water clock within the ever-growing
Acapana
. He was constantly tweaking his minute counters and shifting the balances on the hour chambers, but his ultimate test occurred each day at noon when he could check the chamber’s release against the overhead sun.

It simply made no sense. For the past two weeks, the water clock’s “noon” had precisely matched the meridian, and he
knew
his settings were finally accurate. Yet today—without him changing anything—the water had came pouring out almost two
hours
early!

It was the ultimate frustration. He had only two more days before the final blocks would be put into place, preventing him from any future calibrations. He hated to change anything, and all he could do was double check all of his settings, look for leaks, wait until noon tomorrow, and hope all would be well.

But even if everything went perfectly, he would always be haunted by the knowledge that it had failed once—and his life would be forfeit if it failed again.

They awoke with the noon sun beating down on them. For the most part, their clothing was dry, and hunger was now the predominant thought on everyone’s mind.

They could see two small vessels along the beach in the southwest, and decided it was time to move on.

They went to the far side of the reed matte and dove in, swimming underwater as much as possible. The water was much warmer now, and the thick saltiness permeated their sense of smell as they swam.

As they reached the next matte, Peleg asked, “How big is this sea?”

Thaxad said, “Actually, I believe this is just a very large lake. It just extends beyond the horizon.”

“How did all of this sea-water get up here?” Serug asked Thaxad suddenly.

“What do you mean?” The question seemed very strange.

“I mean, how did this ‘lake’ get full? There’s no runoff from the surrounding mountains to make it fresh, and the surrounding rivers are fed
from
it. No amount of rainfall could make up for that.”

“No amount of rainfall could fill it in the
first
place,” added Untash.

“He’s right,” said Peleg. “Over the next few thousand years, this body of water will slowly empty—but there is no way it could have been filled.”

They looked to Manco Chavin for his input, but he shrugged.

“I have never considered it,” he said. “I was told that it was the ‘Sea on top of the World’ which awaited the Survivors after the Crossing.”

He paused.

“Of course, I was told a lot of things.”

“Still,” pressed Serug. “Somehow this enormous volume of water was brought to this elevation. It didn’t just
flow
up here.” He looked at Manco Chavin. “This would mean that someday your great Tiwanaku Seaport will be many leagues away from its receding shoreline.”

After some silence, Thaxad spoke.

“It is a result of the Great Calamity,” he announced.

“There were no great mountains before that time,” he continued. “The Great Calamity covered the entire globe with water from tremendous tidal waves and ruptured subterranean water caverns.” He spread his hands to encompass their surroundings. “All of this would have been submerged, and in the convulsions that followed, this continent was lifted out of the waters to its current heights. As the waters ran off the land, this large depression remained filled. We are swimming in the original waters of the Great Calamity.”

“That would explain why this is seawater,” said Peleg.

Manco Chavin spoke.

“We were told that a great comet preceded the destruction you speak of. When it broke apart, it rained down, causing great floods and damage.”

Peleg chimed in.

“Actually, many, where we are from, believe it was another world which broke apart. They believe that powerful non-human life existed before that time, and that they escaped the Great Calamity.”

He stopped suddenly, realizing he was sounding like Mentor Inanna, and he had never spoken of this to anyone besides Serug, and certainly not in front of Mentor Thaxad.

Manco Chavin studied him closely.

“And where did they escape
to
?” he asked with sudden interest.

Peleg looked around sheepishly and continued, dismissively.

“Well, some think they escaped into the heavens somehow. Of course, these are just different strange ideas that I’ve heard from time to time. Some believe they may be hiding on the moon or perhaps they traveled to a world that will someday return. Or they could be alive just about anywhere, if they survived at all.” He tried to disentangle himself from the whole issue. “Of course, such beings probably never existed at all. Just superstitions that intelligent people don’t take seriously.” He laughed nervously, glancing at Serug.

“The
Wari
do,” said Manco Chavin with great earnestness and some incredulity.

“Who are they?” asked Untash.

“They are the artisans we are going to visit. They create great sand paintings and sculptures to try and attract the attention of beings just like those you describe. They also are descendants of the Survivors, who choose to focus their attention on lesser
Atua
. They are typical youths—rebellious artists who are harmless; and since they live so far from Tiwanaku, they are tolerated.”

This was the first time since their visit that Peleg had heard the word
Atua
. This had been Kupé’s collective word for gods.

Manco Chavin looked up abruptly.

“I see sails along the far shore,” he said. “We should keep moving.”

They again dove off the far side of the matte and resumed their swimming. They swam overhand, now that they were less likely to be spotted, and traveled at a much more relaxed pace. The ships were far behind them, and they were able to continue for over an hour.

Eventually they focused their attention on a reed matte which was quickly approaching. They pulled themselves to dry “land” and stretched out beneath the sun which had now passed the zenith.

They were unable to see the port they had left early that morning. And the few ships they had witnessed earlier had barely moved, and seemed to be returning to Tiwanaku.

“They will abandon any more searching in this direction,” Manco Chavin stated. “They know you must return in the direction you came from, and will focus all of their resources to patrol the regions which I administer.”

He paused.

“Or used to administer.”

Peleg looked out at the huge volume of water surrounding them, and had another question.

“Do
you
know how deep this sea—or lake—is?” he asked Manco Chavin. “I mean, have any of your people measured it or tried to explore it?”

Manco Chavin smiled, for the first time that morning.

“When we first arrived, small expeditions were sent out to explore these waters, but most of them were not concerned with the depth. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking about where it all came from, and if this lake were very deep, then that makes the question even more difficult. It means there is a lot more water that had to come from somewhere.”

“Well, there
are
areas in this body of water that are too deep to measure,” Manco Chavin said. “But if you want a real mystery, then I will have to tell you that there are some divers who have reported finding ruins of ancient cities in the depths of Tiwanaku.”

His eyes twinkled at Peleg.

“Of course, they were silenced, since this area was created anew by
Viracocha
just for us.” He shook his head as one who was now an unbeliever. “But it is impossible to see anything in these salty waters.”

Suddenly Peleg
had
to see into the depths and discover what might rest beneath them.

“Thaxad,” began Peleg. “Can you see well underwater?”

“No better than you can,” was his answer. “Light refracts much differently in water and the eyes can’t adjust. Besides, nobody could possibly see through
this
water.”

“The fish that live here can certainly see through it,” suggested Serug with some sarcasm.

“I know of some land animals which have a transparent skin over their eyes,” said Untash. “They look through a bubble of air which I imagine helps them see when the enter the water.”

“I want to find out how far down I can see,” Peleg declared.

Thaxad reached for a short piece of reed and broke off a length about the size and diameter of his thumb. He rubbed the ends against another piece of reed until the edges were rounded and mushy.

“Try this,” he said, offering it to Peleg.

“How?” he asked.

“Press one end against your eyes tightly, and look through it into the water. The air pressure will keep the water out for a short while if you look directly down.”

Peleg pressed the tube against his eye, looking through it at the others. He started to move to the edge to peer into the water, when suddenly he stopped.

“I know…!” he exclaimed with sudden inspiration.

He reached into his belt pack and retrieved his refraction discs. He pressed one of them against the other end of the reed tube.

“This will help keep the water out, plus if I use the other one, the features in the distance will move closer.”

“It won’t help,” said Thaxad. “It is still salt water, and you won’t see much.”

Peleg ignored him. Holding the items securely, he hopped off the matte and began to tread water. He clasped the reed, wrapping his fingers around the disc to press it against the end. He pressed his new “water viewer” against his eye and slowly bent into the water.

With careful pressure, he was able to keep the water out of the tube, and he began viewing the sea beneath him.

The clarity of “air” had returned, but as he stared “through” the water, all he could see was the blurry view he was accustomed to when looking at just one disc. Slowly he brought the other refraction disc in front and looked through it.

It worked! He could see clearly for quite a distance, but there was no way he could focus on any bottom—or ancient ruins. He could see small orange-red schools of fish in the distance and the clear fingers of shadows caused by the reed matte floating above.

Water began leaking into the lower part of his reed-tube, and he tried to adjust the fitting by increasing pressure with his hand. In the process, the disc slid sideways and slipped away from his grasp. Peleg lunged for it as it tumbled down, and instinctively grabbed for it with both hands, letting go of the reed. He caught the disc just before it fell out of reach, but in the process he inadvertently let go of the other disc. He watched in dismay as it tipped, caught the refracted underwater sunlight, and then sliced its way into the depths below.

He swam back to the surface, upset at his loss, and also irate at his impetuousness.

He pulled himself back onto the matte and caught his breath.