Free Phobos: Mayan Fear by Steve Alten Page B

their affiliation with the Itza clan, tasked with servicing their gods and their community.
    Chilam Balam makes his way past craftsmen and healers until he arrives at the pyramid’s northern balustrade. The prophet remains the most important advisor to the J-Men, Ix-Men, and Mayan priests who rule the Council. He is the architect of the katuns, each twenty-year epoch of existence foretelling a vision of the future … visions that come to the Jaguar Priest in dreams. He has seen the bearded white men arriving in wooden ships. He has witnessed their fire sticks spitting death among his people. He has envisioned the Itza warriors suspended from wooden crosses, tortured by the white men’s god.
    What confused Balam was that the great teacher, Kukulcan, had been a bearded white man. His arrival had raised the Itza, his wisdom had ensured food during times of famine. Most important, his knowledge of the heavens had provided them with the sacred device wheels that served to organize and prepare the Itza for things to come. Before he departed, the Pale Prophet had promised the Itza-Maya that one day he would return.
    That Chilam Balam is able to channel the great teacher’s spirit is what renders him such a powerful seer. But the great teacher had been a man of peace. These bearded white men clearly were not.
    Seeking answers, Chilam Balam climbs the narrow steps of the pyramid’s northern face and enters the sacred temple. A fire burns on the charred stone floor. Bowls are filled with fruit and cacao leaves.
    The Jaguar Priest closes his eyes and mumbles an ancient chant, waiting for the arrival of Kukulcan.

    The night sky reveals the dark road to Xibalba, the galactic womb only a day away from converging with the horizon. The fire is gone, reduced to smoldering embers.
    “Balam.”
    Kukulcan appears before him, the pale Caucasian dressed in a white ceremonial robe that matches his long flowing silky hair and beard. His azure eyes share the luminescence of the jaguar.
    Chilam Balam bows in reverence, his forehead kissing the warm stone. “Great teacher, I ask your help in interpreting these latest visions. Does the arrival of the bearded white men portend your return or our demise?”
    “Both. For I am here with you now, and I offer salvation.”
    “Instruct me, teacher.”
    “Amass the Itza-Maya tomorrow evening at the sacred cenote. Instruct the farmers to bring with them enough seed to ensure bountiful harvests for at least three tuns. Instruct the healers to do the same with the seedlings that sustain their medicines. Instruct the laborers to bring their tools. Instruct the people to bring only the belongings they can carry on their backs. Leave everything else, including your books. The invaders shall conquer the Azteca, whose lust for blood rivals their own. When they enter Chichen Itza, they shall find a city of ghosts.”
    “Teacher, where shall we go? Do you wish us to hide in the jungle?”
    “At midnight the dark road to Xibalba shall arrive. All who venture down its path shall henceforth be known as Hunahpu. The Hunahpu shall seed the sixth great cycle of man. A thousand times a thousand katuns shall pass before the Hunahpu return. When the race of white men slips into the darkness of ignorance, oblivion, and despair, the wisdom of the cosmic light shall again return, offering mankind a means of salvation at the end of the fifth cycle.”
    The fire suddenly returns, crackling with energy.
    The great teacher is gone.

    The Council convenes at midday atop the platform of the Temple of the Warriors. Chilam Balam recounts the great teacher’s words, only to be openly challenged by a rival priest, Napuctun.
    “The arrival of the bearded ones from the lands of the sun must be met by the sons of the Itza. They are bringers of a sign from our Father God. They bring blessings in abundance!”
    Balam puffs out his chest. “Who are you to defy the words of Kukulcan? The raised wooden standard shall come. It shall be