Free Gods and Pawns by Kage Baker

Tanama. He sipped it: a bitter herbal tea. He had no idea what its botanic origin was; he detected caffeine, as well as chemical compounds intended to regulate metabolism and keep the prostate an acceptable size. Useful, for an elderly mortal male.
    “Are you going to be working on the other side of the house today?” Tanama asked him. “I need to know so—” Orocobix held up his hand in a warning gesture, and she blushed and fell silent. Gathering up the tray with its pot and cups, she hurried indoors.
    “Great Orocobix,” said Lewis, setting aside his cup. “I must be frank with you. It is likely that my master will prefer to take you, and your family, to his own kingdom, rather than leave you here.”
    “I am aware of that, child,” said Orocobix placidly. “The Lord of Coaybay takes all into his realm. It is his nature.”
    “Yes, but your family seems to believe that life will go on, unchanged,” said Lewis. “That will not be the case at all.”
    Orocobix nodded.
    “They are greedy and impatient,” he said. “And not, I think, very great observers of the world. A great tree shoots up from the earth, it bears fruit, the fruit ripens and rots and falls; the tree sees many seasons come and go, watches many harvests drop from its branches. Yet in some hour the tree itself will die at the heart, and rot and fall, too.
    “We were the tree, you see; our people came and went, and finally went away forever, but we Guanikina remained on awhile. And my children have proceeded on the assumption that we would always remain. But I knew our heart had rotted out.
    “When I saw this light, shining out after the sunset, I thought perhaps that Maketaurie was advancing his borders. That was why I went in search of him. What would you have done, child, in my place? Wait to grow weaker, and fewer, as the years go by, dwindling to nothing at last? Or go to him voluntarily while we still had some shred of our former dignity? I have made the best bargain I can. It is, I think, better than we might have expected.”
    Lewis bowed his head. “You are a wise god, Great Orocobix.”
    “And, in any case, it’s not as though we haven’t done this before,” added Orocobix.
    “What?”
    “When we came from the land beyond the sunrise,” said Orocobix.
    “What’s the land beyond the sunrise?” Lewis asked, feeling all his senses come alert. Somewhere, some time, a Company official in a dark room would be listening very closely to this.
    “The place we lived before we sailed in the void,” said Orocobix. “Many, many lives ago. Guanike. I don’t recall it personally anymore, you understand; one head can only hold so many memories.”
    “That’s so true,” said Lewis, with a surreal sense of mirth. Unless you get called in for an upgrade. He edged closer. “What can you tell me, great Orocobix, of what you know? Is it a real place?”
    “It was,” said Orocobix. “Sadly, it sank into the void, and we were obliged to leave. We traveled westward, and found a little country, with mortals to be our servants there. In time we left that land, too—I don’t know why, anymore—and found this place, which was much more suitable because it was simply immense, you know. And now, we travel on again. I think it’s all for the best.”
    Mendoza! Mendoza, you won’t believe what I just heard!
    What? From her tone she was doing something boring in a methodical manner.
    These people have an Atlantis story! They came from some place in the east that sank into the sea!
    Lewis, that’s dumb. Atlantis never really existed. The Company would know if it had.
    What if it was Thera? What if it was in the Black Sea or the Mediterranean?
    Lewis, they are Indians. Run a DNA sample, for heaven’s sake.
    Lewis cleared his throat. “Tell me, great Orocobix: did you bring anything with you from lost Guanike?”
    “Nothing very much,” said Orocobix. “Not a lot of room in an open boat, after all. There’s a little box in my chambers. A