Free The Basingstoke Chronicles by Robert Appleton Page B

ushered us to the
building nearest us on the right. Sealed wooden casks stood on its porch. As I bent to smell, I
rediscovered the sweet flavor of that fruity nightcap our new friend had given me to taste the
night before.
    I'll bet this is his place, I thought as we entered.
    Darkly shuffled his way through the doorway, and refused to take no for an answer.
Pacal Votan and I could not keep him outside. Eventually, we decided the only solution
was for me to sit on a bench almost in the doorway, so the bear would not object to any
separation and I was more or less out of harm's way.
    Pacal Votan stood before me for a moment, quietly inquisitive. He struck me as a
handsome man for his tribe. On the whole, I didn't think them a particularly attractive people, but
my taste has never fitted into popular convention when it comes to looks. His six-foot-eight
frame was also quite broad. While strong, I possess only a medium build, and I felt rather
undersized in his presence.
    Rodrigo translated Pacal's words as best he could, words that I will never forget.
    "Lord, in my eyes you are welcome, but there are those who still fear the horizon. This is
a belief we are burdened with on Apterona. Mistrust is everywhere, and until you have met with
our Kamachej, for his judgment, many will see you as a dark prophecy, a drop before the deluge
to come. I plead with you, wait here, and do not venture outside lest I call upon you."
    With that he strode out the door and met with Puma Pawq'ar again. The two of them
hurried northward across the ellipse, through the shadow of a ten foot high statue magnificently
carved from stone. It depicted a man looking up toward the heavens, and the beast at his side, a
bear, whose head was turned to one side, alert to the many dangers facing them.
    The interior of Pacal Votan's home was a veritable cornucopia of scientific intrigue. I
was stunned as I surveyed desks and shelves overflowing with metallic devices and instruments,
the intricacies of which I could scarcely dream. Many of them seemed to be astronomical in
nature. Indeed, there was a celestial map laid flat on one of the tables. It had been fashioned from
a beige-colored material, its markings inked with a black dye. Not being much of a stargazer, all I
was qualified to be was impressed.
    "All right, Rodrigo. Now we're alone, be kind enough to tell me what the hell's going
on."
    He sat on a bench opposite me, fiddling with a complex contraption.
    "I've a feeling we don't know the half of it."
    "You're remarkably sanguine about all this."
    "Sorry, Baz, but I suppose we have to accept... The bottom line is, we'll not be leaving
anytime soon. To tell the truth, this trip has turned out better than I ever expected. Think about it.
What's the real reason we journeyed in the time machine in the first place? Scientific research?
To solve some half-assed mystery about a dead body? Those ships sailed before they even lifted
anchor. We're in this for the adventure, my friend--pure and simple.
    "Back home, we might be richer than Croesus, but--and stop me here anytime you
disagree, Baz--that damned lifestyle gets so tired, so fast. I mean I can wake up sometimes and
not even know it, you know? Like when the things you dream about are actually a comedown
from what's available to you, every day, at the click of a finger. Where there's no necessity,
there's no point, as my uncle used to say. There's really not much to tie us to 1979 at all, if you
ask me."
    I didn't stop him.
    "I've been trying to figure out where we are," he continued, "and I have to say, without
knowing anything about shifting plate tectonics and all that, I really don't think we're in South
America."
    "Why do you say that?"
    "Well, apart from the language, which is a very simplified, almost skeletal form of
Quechua, there's no consistency in the culture whatsoever, at least as far as what's known in our
time about those indigenous peoples. The clothes appear more Greek than anything;