A Day In The Life: Mexico, State Of Vera Cruz; Cihuaton (Little Women) free porn video

A day in the life: Mexico, State of Vera Cruz; Cihuaton (Little Women) The jungle hung over the road, a vast wilderness inhabited by jaguar, deadly black tarantulas, and a host of birds and animals never seen by the white man. Quihuicha rested on the branch, watching the beehive of activity below. Twenty faerie were dismembering the javelina they had shot, and she was on guard against- A shape formed from the darkness. Ocelotl! She whistled, raising her bow. The arrows were long narrow thorns with a bit of wool at the end instead of flights. She fired, the great cat hissing at the pain as it leaped forward. The Faerie exploded away from the pitzotl they had been cutting as the cat leaped on the carcass. For a moment, the Jaguar growled to challenge them. Then it collapsed. The Faerie dropped back down, and resumed their work. Strips of meat were cut free with itxpapalotl, obsidian knifes and pairs of them flew it toward the nest a kilometer away as the others continued working. Quihuicha knelt again on the branch. She was acattopa amini of her tribe. First hunter and war leader. There was a movement, and she watched it. Faerie of the Cuauhtla Calpolli who lived in the trees instead of her own Tetl Chantli Calpolli, People of the Stone Home. She gave another signal. The hunters below grabbed their war clubs and spears. A single Cuauhtla flew forward. It was Tipu, their acattopa amini and Quihuicha's older sister. She held the spear point down in one hand, and waved it is a slow arc. Parley. Quihuicha gave another cry, and Tipu looked up seeing her. Both women were of the Nahuatl race, the peoples that had lived in what is now South America and Mexico before the Caxtiltecatl, the Spanish had come with their Tepehuani-conquistadors and fire sticks. Their hair was the only thing that did not match that stereotype. Tipu's hair was the burnished yellow of teocuitlacoztic, 'sweat of the sun', while Quihuicha's was the grey of cuitlatexotic 'Tears of the moon'. Quihuicha flew down, facing the woman far above the forest floor. The others of the Cuauhtla stayed in the trees. "Greetings Hueltiuhtli," Tipu said. "And to you sister," Quihuicha replied. "I see you have taken a pitzotl. Do you intend to eat the ocelotl as well?" "It was my bow that took him." "I saw that. A very good shot." Tipu looked at her calmly. "You have not answered my question." "I want the skin. But I would not starve our sisters of the forest. Have you anything to trade?" "A warning," Tipu said. "But I will not trade it. It is my gift to you. There are two Caxtiltecatl on the edge of our lands meet." She pointed east. "They are in a rolling cart." "So?" How many of their great carts use this very road every week?" Tipu nodded. "How many in their carts bring others of our kind with them?" "Others?" Quihuicha tensed. A migration could cause a conflict. The Cuauhtla could move, after all, they had nothing heavy to carry along. But the Tetl Chantli... "Will you allow me to send scouts?" "No more than five. We will escort them." Quihuicha nodded sharply. "Agreed." She flew down with the other woman. "Take the ocelotl skin. The meat is for our sisters of the woods." She pointed at five of her women, all well trained fighters. They flew up, and with the Cuauhtla flew east. It was just over an hour to where the camp was. The Faerie settled on branches far above the great square cart, and the tent. Two Caxtiltecatl were there, sitting near a fire, sipping from bottles. Quihuicha looked then gave a trill. Quinoa, who had once been one of their kind nodded, then slid down the trunk of the tree. ***** "Coatzacoalcos is two days ahead at this rate." Morgan said. Soteapan was only an hour behind them on the small coast road. The distance from Soteapan to Coatzacoalcos was less than sixty miles, but the road had seen better days. Probably when the Spanish first arrived. The problem wasn't distance; it was contacting the local Faerie tribes. The Sonoran desert had been more open, and the nests had been farther apart. But here in the tropical regions of the State of Vera Cruz, they were closer. Unfortunately, the brothers had not considered the language problem. The local faerie spoke primarily Nahuatl, the native language of the Aztec. Of the five Faerie that accompanied them, two, Dahlia and Poppy who had once been known as Becky Harricord spoke no Spanish at all. Manzanita, who had once been a Confederate army officer spoke a smattering of Spanish, Yerba Santa, who had been a Yaqui Indian as a human spoke both her native tongue and some Spanish. Tithonia who had been a Conquistador under Coronado was the only one who spoke Spanish but it was Castilian Spanish. So far none of the locals had joined their party. They remembered too well the original Spanish invasion by Cortez of three and a half centuries before, and the traitors that had aided them in the conquest. "Well there should be a nest near by." "Not near." Dahlia commented flying into the camp leading the others. "But well protected. The locals didn't attack, just made displays to tell us that we would not be allowed to go farther." "They didn't let you come close enough to talk?" Charles asked. The Fairy shook her head. He split a mango, slicing it up, and handed it to the tired women. "Well if they don't want to talk, we can't make them." ***** Quinoa came back up. "I could not understand them. I think they are English." "What are English?" They were the enemy of my people all those years ago. Thieves and pirates." "Then they are bad people?" "I do not know. People change, as does the world. Even I learned how to change." Quinoa slapped her own thigh. "But the way they treat the ones of our kind is different from my people. When the Conquistadors used the natives, we treated them as we thought them. Slaves and servants too stupid to know what to do. That one." He pointed at one of the men. "Speaks to them as if they are equals. We only treated chiefs in that manner." Quihuicha looked at Tipu. "These are your lands. What would you do with these?" "The ones with them have probed, but not aggressively," Tipu replied. "They retreat if we show resistance without fighting. But they have metal weapons and a bow unlike any I have ever seen." "Then perhaps they wish only to talk." "Perhaps." Tipu looked at her. "But it is not our place to make such a decision. If they had been by themselves, yes. But the Caxtiltecatl, the 'English' changes that." "Then someone must tell the Elders of them." "I agree." "If it is acceptable, I will send a messenger to my Queen." "Do so. Tell her that I will have a scout speak to my Queen, and perhaps they can meet to discuss this." ***** The sun began to set. Morgan took out the Treo, and set it up. He linked up the camera, and leaned back as the system interfaced. Yerba Santa flew up, landing on his shoulder. "Can we see the movie again?" she asked excitedly. "Sure. Charles, could you set up the PSP for them?" "Yeah." The man began setting up the Playstation plus, and the Faerie swirled around him. The Treo bleeped, and Monica Braziani looked out. She was at her desk at the University. "Late night professor?" "Grading papers. At least it's not the English department," she replied. "If I had a student tell me King Arthur ran into the knights who say Nee, I'd probably kill them all with an axe. As it is, I have them trying to prove Aliens helped the Mound builders of Pennsylvania." Morgan chuckled. "We're between Soteapan and Coatzacoalcos in Vera Cruz," Morgan said. "There is definitely a tribe nearby, but they are trying to avoid contact." "No help for it. If you can't contact them, make a note and bypass. Another team will go by there eventually." "The problem is we don't have any speakers of Nahuatl among our group. We haven't found out if they speak Spanish, and I am pretty sure they don't speak English. Make sure to have notes that we need translators, and I'm not talking about later teams. We could use them now." "I don't know if I can help you." She leaned back in her chair. "Which movies did you guys take with you?" "The usual. Ferngully, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland. We added El Dorado." "The Western?" "Sorry. I meant the Road to El Dorado. I added it because of the subject matter." "The Europeans don't come across too well in that if I recall." "Except for the main characters. But it's the idea of a peaceful first contact." "Won't contact you," she murmured. "Have you tried a Phoenician silent auction?" "If I knew what it was." She explained. "We can try that. I'll get out the equipment in the morning." "Oh, and George had a message for Becky. If he can, he'll meet you guys in Coatzacoalcos. He's finished up his business in Houston." "If it takes much longer, I'll have Charles drive into Coatzacoalcos and pick him up." "Understood." Charles finished setting up the system. "Which one?" he asked. "Ferngully!" one called. "Peter Pan!" shouted another. "All right, we'll flip for it." He pulled out a quarter. Heads, we play Ferngully, tails Peter Pan." He flipped the coin, and Manzanita leaped into the air, caught the spinning disk, and slapped it back on his hand heads up. Tithonia leaped after the laughing girl, and they swirled in the air as Charles sighed, and flipped it again. It came up heads, and as much as some complained, they all sat on the table patiently as Charles set up the screen. "You know, Morgan, I was thinking of our wilder days." "What do you mean?" "Remember the drive in?" Morgan considered, then grinned. When they were younger, they had always wanted to watch movies, especially the ones that were rated too high for them to see. Whenever the local drive in showed them, they would creep up to the hill behind it, and watch from hiding with binoculars. He got out the laptop, and the girls looked at him oddly as he rigged the PSP to the larger screen. "We'll give them a show for the night." "What are they doing?" Achita asked the Cuauhtla beside her. The forest people spent more time around the Caxtiltecatl than did the more reclusive Tetl Chantli. "I do not know." The forest girl chewed her lip. "Stay here, I will rouse the others." She flew up higher into the trees, where the scouts that were watching the humans had built a small nest. She found Quihuicha and Tipu lying together, still covered with sweat. They called each other sister, and they were siblings of the same mother. But Tipu had fallen in love with a Cuauhtla and joined that tribe. The only times the sisters met were like this. The girl told them of what was happening, and the leaders roused their people. They flew lower, looking at the incomprehensible scene. The humans had set up a large flat plate of some kind of glass, and were connecting a small box to it. The human spoke to the faerie all of whom sat or reclined on the flat folding table they had set up. Then he pressed a button, and moved away to sit talking with his companion. Music played, and the screen went from black to words in an odd script. Then a woman's voice began to speak. It was magical. The faerie watched, not understanding the words, but enjoying the play of light and color. "They have learned much since the coming of the Caxtiltecatl," Quinoa whispered. Down on the table, pair of faerie had opened the box, and were now talking quickly amongst themselves. Then they slid a flat glass disc from the machine, and inserted another one. The sound began again, but they hissed in dismay at this story. The elder Faerie recognized the ships of the Caxtiltecatl arriving on their own shores. But by the end, they were willing to cheer as one of the Caxtiltecatl sealed the way and saved the people of the city they had found. The tribes moved back up into the trees after the show was over. They had much to think about. ***** The next morning they watched as the men laid small squares of cloth on the ground. Then they laid out items on each. One item on each cloth, all different, and all wonderful. Behind them, they placed small pieces of paper with a symbol they could not recognize from here. The faerie that had come with them settled on the shoulders of the taller man, and they spoke for a long moment, then the faerie flew down, sitting cross- legged behind the cloth squares. Then they waited. Far back in the mists of time, the Phoenicians traded from the Horn of Africa all around that continent to the Scandinavian Peninsula. Before the Romans and the Venetians, they were the premier traders in the world. Anywhere they could reach by sea. They discovered that most of the tribes they traded with did not speak their language, so they developed what historians call the silent auction. Goods were displayed, and the natives would come and see what was offered. If they wished to buy something, they would bring their own goods, and set them down opposite what they would wish to buy. The system while without communication on the verbal level could be highly complex. Let us assume you were selling glass bowls. The other person brings perhaps incense of an odd but pleasing kind. But you don't think the bowls are so cheap, so instead you withdraw the bowls, and place say, woodcarvings there instead. If they think these are worth the offering, they leave it. If not they remove the incense, or move it back to the bowls. If you have some goods they think very valuable you expand the trade. Say you are selling seed of grain, and they want them desperately. You split the sack into two, and leave one there, moving the second to another square of it's own. When nothing has changed for several hours, you gather what you have been paid, leaving what has been traded to them. Of course, you guard the goods very well. After all this is supposed to be trade, not incitement to theft. "What is this?" Tipu asked. "I think it is like a tianguez. A market," Quinoa opined. "But if they cannot speak our language, how can they sell?" "I do not know." "Well I see one of their bows on display," Quihuicha said. "I will go down, and we shall see." "Take care little sister." "I expect to outlive our Quetzalxochitl," she replied. Quihuicha flew out into view, and hovered. The humans looked up at her, but beyond that did nothing. She dropped lower, and the Faerie scattered behind the offerings merely sat and watched her too. She moved over the offerings. A metal spear with tube sections beside it. One of the bows, with a quiver of metal arrows. A sword like the ones the newcomers wore. A spread out series of straps. She paused in amazement. A box like the one they had put the moving pictures from last night in! Cloth in small rolls and bottles half her height. She flew back over, then dropped down beside the bow. The paper behind it was clearly visible now. It had the Aztec symbol for 'bow and arrows'. She walked down the line. Long spear sword 'bay carrier'? 'picture bow' cloth pulque. She returned to the bow. The Faerie that sat behind it stood then bowed to her. Quihuicha picked up an arrow, examining it. It was long actually a bit longer than her own thorn arrows made of metal, with a notch at the back. There were flights of some odd material. The bow itself had a steel wire bowstring that ran through wheeled structures on each end. She pulled it, testing the draw. It was harder than her own bow, but as her hand reached back to her elbow, the draw dropped off to less than two thirds of her own. The metal of the bow stave was notched out, and she could picture an arrow there. That would hold the arrow up instead of resting it on her hand or thumb as most archers did. The Fairy that stood there silently motioned then shouted. On the other end of the display a Fairy flew back, and one of the men handed her a plum. She flew down with it, setting it at an easy range for a bowshot. Then she flew up. The fairy beside Quihuicha motioned as if to say, 'try it'. The veteran hunter chose an arrow, set it on the bow, and smoothly drew and shot. The strike was actually a hand higher than her aim. As a professional, she understood that the bow threw harder than she own did. The next arrow with this in mind struck right where she had aimed. She set down the bow, and flew over to the fruit. Both arrows were buried to the flights, which meant they had punched into the seed of the fruit as well as its pulp. Such penetration was beyond what her own bow could do. What would happen, she wondered, if she shot a coloti or a tocatl with such an arrow? The scorpion and tarantula respectively were smaller than the other predators, but more deadly than the larger beasts because they could climb as well as sting. They could also get into the nests of the people. More died from them than anything else. She must have one of these. But like most hunters, she did not have much in the way of goods. She sighed, handing the bow back to the fairy. She shook her head, pushing it back. She couldn't mean what Quihuicha thought! She held the bow, then caught it by the string, flipping it to rest between her wings. She looked at the woman defiantly. That person merely knelt, and held out the baldric that held the other arrows. "Huentli?" She asked. You're giving this to me as a gift? The woman cocked her head. Then motioned as if to say, 'go'. Quihuicha flew upward. Once out of sight, she flew up to the branch where the others sat. Below them, the Fairy had gotten another bow, and set it down on the cloth. "May I see it?" Tipu asked. Quihuicha slid the bow over to her sister, who tested the string appraisingly. "Wonderful workmanship. I wonder why they gave it to you." "I think that maybe they wish to meet our queens very desperately. "Have you heard back from your home nest yet?" "Eloxochitl and Tlilxochitl are meeting now to discuss it." "Perhaps we could send Quinoa down. They did not seem to understand me. Perhaps they understand Caxtiltecatl." "My instruction on that is that until they decide, there will be no meetings." "What about trade?" The elder handed the bow back. "No one said we couldn't trade." ***** Fifty Faerie flew through the woods, a buzzing swarm. The women on the edges were heavily armed with bows, spears, and clubs. The two at the center carried no weapons. They didn't need to worry about protecting themselves. Eloxochitl, leader of the Tetl Chantli for almost a hundred 52 year Sacred Rounds, over five thousand years flew beside Tlilxochitl who was leader of the Cuauhtla. She had not been queen as long. She had been born in the year the Caxtiltecatl had first come to this land. Women of both sides flew on guard. They reached the tree nest their scouts had set up, and the two monarchs sat. "Speak." Eloxochitl said. Quihuicha knelt, and described what she had seen and heard. Tipu followed, and each of the scouts also reported. "So they have great magic. Perhaps these plays, these wonderful scenes you have spoken of were another attempt to communicate?" "I do not believe that they intended it as such," Quihuicha told her. "It is perhaps my own mistaken assumption but it began with their own small ones wanting to watch this, thing. They argued so that the human flipped a coin. That is the method they used to choose what was seen." "Argued?" "Like children deciding which game to play. There was no fighting. They watched this story of Faerie living in a great forest..." She went through the storyline of Ferngully. "I think it was to show that there are humans that know we exist, that those threaten us that would destroy our homes, but there are those that might help. They also show that they know we have magic." She then went through the movie Road to El Dorado. "They seem to be telling us that they have done evil in the past, for except for not showing the actual deaths, they did portray the coming of the Caxtiltecatl. But two of the players were the ones that saved a city of the Aztecs." "Which never happened." Tlilxochitl snapped. "I grew to adulthood watching the Caxtiltecatl strip the buildings of those who protected us of the Sweat of the Sun and Tears of the Moon, melting it down to take beyond the sea." "Your grace, perhaps you give them too much evil," Tipu commented. "Their lives are so much shorter than our own. Perhaps they do not remember it as we do." Tlilxochitl snorted. "I understand that, little one. I watched them for almost five hundred of their years. What has occurred during this day?" "They have set up what one of ours thinks is a market, but they sell nothing." "Sell nothing?" Quihuicha held out the bow she had been given. The hunters of the bodyguards looked at it with appreciative eyes. The sword that Tipu had gotten was metal and razor sharp. The spear another had gotten had sections that made it four times the height of the average fairy, and the tip was detachable. The cloth was just common material, but held a bundle of thread and small bone needles. A pipe half their height was filled with a smooth tasting pulque. "Each of us tried to trade for these, but they were given to us." Sinicuichi, one of the Tetl Chantli scouts reported. "Quinoa was the one who got the pulque which is much smoother than a first season barrel though not as smooth as that we have in the storehouses. There was only one of them that spoke the tongue of the Caxtiltecatl at all well. She introduced herself as Tithonia. She spoke of a group of humans that have sworn to aid and protect our race if we will join them." "The Caxtiltecatl made oaths of the same kind. As did the Azteca Chicomoztoca," Eloxochitl replied. "And see what happened to the humans of this land!" "Yes this is true. But humans change," Tipu said. "We have heard from the tribe to the north and west of many changes in the way people deal with others. We must consider as well that when the Caxtiltecatl came all they spoke of was their white Christ and acted as if the words of their book meant something." Everyone more than 500 years old growled at that. "Shall we ignore what they offer?" "What is that box?" Eloxochitl asked. "When they showed those plays, they used a box like that one to operate the great wheel of glass. It was connected to that larger flat box the human has in front of him so that it used a screen almost three times my height in length." "Very well, we shall see how far their largess goes with these goods." ***** "We'll need a shipment of all the trading goods," Charles reported. "The locals took us at our word, and we've had almost a hundred of them visit so far." "I'll call it in. What seems to be going the fastest?" "Everything but the PSP has been grabbed so far. I make it twenty-five bows, thirty swords, twenty pikes fifty sewing kits, and a bottle of tequila." He laughed. "At least we're not selling them guns!" "Your lips to God's ear," Monica replied. "Why do you think they haven't taken the PSP yet?" "Too damn big. They'd need at least three to carry it safely, and maybe they are worried that we might stop them. We have a pile of gold and silver nuggets about a hand and a half big beside it though." He looked up. "I'm going to set to record. Looks like the cavalry has arrived." He turned the camera around, aiming it across the table. Dozens of Faerie came down in a swarm, and Charles stood carefully. Morgan had done the same. Neither reached for a weapon. The outer ring of Faerie now surrounded the Land Rover and the men at the table. Two of them in richly embroidered kilt like skirts settled down beside the PSP on the cloth. One of them, smaller than the others, but obviously in charge looked at Yerba Santa, and gestured toward the box. "Morgan?" she called. "Tithonia, you're up. Tell her that we will set it up with the larger screen so they can all watch it." Tithonia flew down before the women. "I am called Tithonia. Morgan, the larger of the two humans has asked that he be allowed to set up this unit so that all may watch." The regal woman looked, and the Fairy that spoke Spanish flew forward, and translated. She spoke back. "Eloxochitl, leader of the People of the Stone Home and Tlilxochitl leader of the forest people will allow him this time." "They said all right," Tithonia called. Morgan walked forward, knelt carefully, then picked up the box. He motioned, allowing them to fly up and watch as he linked the small game unit to the laptop computer. "How does this machine work?" The Fairy translator asked. "It would take too long to explain it all," Morgan reported. "But we use small pieces of lightning to run these machines. This one," He touched the PSP "Can be used to play games, or to watch movies." "Movies?" "Moving picture shows. Such as we showed our own girls last night." Morgan touched the laptop. "This larger machine has many more things it can do. You can do all this box will do, but it also can be used to write messages, send them anywhere in the world, handle money, do complex problems such as adding and subtracting and keeping of records." He took the box that held the Treo they had carried since Houston. "Inside this box is a machine between the small one and this in what it can do. It can do all of what this game and picture box can do, but is small enough to hold in my hand. It cannot do everything the large box will do, but enough for our purposes. It can be used to speak with our fellow travelers anywhere in the world." Eloxochitl asked a question through the translator, then through Tithonia. "What is this purpose?" "I can explain now, but it will take a long time. Would you like the explanation first, or to see the movie?" The movie of course won hands down. Morgan loaded Peter Pan. Then as the entire fair of Faerie sat entranced, he went back online. "Did you get that so far, Monica?" "Yes. I found a student here that speaks Nahuatl. I have offered to let her translate in return for their legends for her thesis. She thinks you are traveling through Mexico contacting primitive tribes. She should be here shortly." "No worries. They're all watching Peter Pan." ***** The movie ended, and there was a rush of conversation. The native Faerie were asking questions of the ones among them who spoke Spanish, who then translated them through Tithonia. There were quite too many to answer readily, and Charles found himself holding up his hands. He went back to the Treo. "Professor we have a lot of questions on this end, and my translator is getting buried." "The translator has arrived, Charles." "Good." He looked at Tithonia. "Tell them that we have someone who can speak their language on the other end." ***** Marina Sandoval looked at the huge house, and at the Butler who had opened the door. "I am-" "I apologize for interrupting, madam. You are expected Miss Sandoval." Madison said. "If you will follow me, madam?" She looked at the entry hall, and felt nervous. Back in the Yucatan, this would have been a great Don's house. Of course La Donna Professor Braziani was granddaughter of a mob boss so the title like the house, fit her. The butler led her to a door, and opened it. Professor Braziani looked up from the computer on her desk, and stood. "Please, come in," she said. "May I call you Marina?" "Yes, Professor." "I called you because my team has found a tribe in Central Mexico that doesn't speak English. There is only one person there who speaks Spanish, and her Nahuatl is nonexistent. So they must translate into Spanish, then into English for the team." She looked at the girl carefully. "Can you keep a secret, Marina?" "I never reveal anything given to me under the rose, Professor." "Some of what you will hear will be incomprehensible, but you will make assumptions. The fact that you arrived here from a foreign country with a scholarship speaks highly of your native intelligence. The fact that you are a woman helps a great deal for this tribe has a female leader. I ask that if you think you have discovered something monumental, that you tell me first, and promise not to reveal it to anyone else without my permission." "As you wish. I promise you this." "Good." She motioned to the desk. "If you have any questions of me, I will be in the next room. If you need any refreshment, push this button and Madison will get it for you." She watched the professor walk away, confused then sat at the desk, picking up the headset that sat there. "Hello?" "Hello yourself. Who are you?" a man's voice asked. "Marina Sandoval. I was told you needed translation from Nahuatl into English." "How good are you?" "I speak it from when I was a child. English is my second language, and I speak it from when I was in school and working for Yanqui. I was born in the Yucatan. I can do a simultaneous translation." "All right, here is the drill. Do you remember Star Trek?" "Yes, I do." "Well we don't have a Prime Directive like theirs, but we do have a rule that we give them what we can while trying to disrupt their society as little as possible. That means no drugs, no guns will be given to them. I need to explain that to our guest here, and I need your help." "What about cross-cultural contamination?" "We'll keep it at a minimum. When this system gets set up, you can get everything they remember in the way of history direct." "Sir, wouldn't it be easier to hire a local to translate?" "We're not staying here for that long. If I had a year to spend here, I would, but I don't." "Then how-" "They will be given a Treo to operate, and the Professor is looking for online translation software, so those who can read will read it in their own language. The call sign for it is in the computer you are at right now, and with the Professor's permission, you can use it whenever you need." She mentally shrugged. The hardest part of dealing with primitive tribes was that your very interaction changed them. But needing a translator 3,000 miles away made that almost a dead certainty. "All right." "Then let's get started." Marina leaned back. "Please give us direct translation for the moment only. Make notes if you wish, but don't ask questions." "Understood." Marina began translating as Charles spoke. "Your grace, we are members of an organization that know of you, and wishes to help." "How can you help us?" We have seen this wonder of moving pictures, but what can you offer beyond that?" "We have access to medicine that can heal or ease the pain of others. We can also link you to others of your kind from the frozen north to the oceans of the western and eastern seas." "We must discuss this. Will the one speaking on this device be listening?" "As long as is necessary." "Then come to the Stone Home." Marina found herself giving directions, but they were odd. He had gotten used to 'sunward' and dark ward' among a tribe in New Guinea meaning east and west along with 'left' meaning south to her own forebears. But this was more complex and odd. It spoke of 'time to fly' rather that an actual distance. But the person on the other end seemed to understand the directions readily. "Marina, we need to relocate about fifteen kilometers. Down here, that's going to be tomorrow about noon our time. That would be around eleven in Chi-town. Call it a day and we'll talk tomorrow." The Stone Home Charles got behind the wheel, and cranked the engine. The biggest problem with cross-country travel in the jungle is knowing where you're going, how to get there, and whether anything in your way would impede you. A lot of expeditions even on foot had gone into this jungle and never come back for that very reason. But once Marina had gotten off the line, They had explained the problem to the Faerie. They had drawn a circuitous route that avoided any holes more than ten inches deep sharp slopes, ravines, mud that would mire the vehicle or fallen trees. They had told the Faerie that if they wished, they could keep the gold until negotiations were completed, but the Queen waved it away, telling the humans to take it. Slowly he followed the waved signals as members of both tribes stood in the trees ahead of him, directing the path left or right as Morgan walked ahead, ready to chop any brush in the way. The road and the lay by they had been camping in disappeared within moments. There were places where they was sure the Faerie had been lying to them, but by noon, they had reached a steep hill that looked like a squared beehive on the ground. It stood thirty feet high, and at the top, there was a small hole just large enough for a Faerie to walk in standing. The slope was too steep for a man to climb, and little or no plants grew on it. One of the Faerie flew down, the one that spoke Spanish. She rattled off commands. "From here you must go in our form. It is the way of the people from before we Spaniards arrived." "You were a Spaniard?" Morgan asked. "Yes. I am now called Quinoa. I joined them less than four months after Cortez invaded." He motioned toward the sloped hill. "This was built by the Olmec, who preceded the Aztec Emperors. Our queen Eloxochitl 's two oldest advisors lived at the time. Perhaps they can tell you of the migration." "I know our translator in the box will be very interested." Morgan picked out the equipment they would need to take up with them, and Faerie moved it upward. Then a score of them settled on the men, shrinking them. The men flew up into what looked like a miniature Aztec pyramid. The entryway was at the apex, with an opening that was wide enough for them to walk in, but not much else. Guards armed with bows stood watching the forest beyond. Morgan stopped. "Quinoa, would you ask her if I can see one of her arrows?" The arrow, a long narrow thorn had a small tuft of feathery wool at the bottom. He stared at it. "These are poisoned, yes?" "With bark from a plant that grows far to the south," Quinoa told him. "It is traded among the tribes of the far south and us. We trade them cocoa for it." "Curare!" Morgan said. "And these arrows look like the blowgun darts of the Jivaro Indians of the Amazon." "So someone could get killed with this, and they'd be looking for humans, not someone as small as them," Charles added. "Yeah." He handed the arrow back to the guard, who slotted it back into her quiver. "Don't want these ladies mad at us." There was a circular ramp inside the opening that led downward. There were fifteen levels, though most were empty. Food had been stored with care, as had cloth, and wool and flax which could be made into cloth. The walls were lit with layers of lichen that glowed as they passed. Finally they reached a massive chamber. It was about ten feet square, and had pillars that held it up from the floor. Eloxochitl sat on a carved wooden throne, and a hundred or more Faerie were standing there, waiting for the men. "Welcome, humans," Eloxochitl said. "We will offer our hospitality when we are done with our discussion." "Yes ma'am. Please wait so our translator can come on line," Morgan said. Charles began setting up the system. "These are such wonderful things you bring. However, we wonder why you do this?" she motioned to Quinoa. "Others have come, and they took from us. They murdered those that we lived among until that time. Why should we think you to be any different?" "There is no reason to trust us until we have earned that trust." Morgan replied. "The history of the white men coming here is stark and almost always painful for the native peoples. This much is true. If you decide after our discussion that you do not wish our aid and friendship, we will depart." "If we decide against you, you will not leave. Ever." Charles tensed. Morgan set his hand on his shoulder. "Ease down, Bro." He looked to the translator. "We have made no threats and wish only your friendship." "Set." Charles touched the microphone. "Are you there, Marina?" "Listening." Marina held the earpiece against her ear as Eloxochitl replied. "We make no threats. We do not have to kill you to keep you from leaving after all." "She just said something about you not leaving-" "Marina, full translation please." Numbly she repeated what she said. Morgan sighed. How much did that kid up there know? "Your Grace-" "What is her title?" Marina asked. "What?" "To the ancient Mesoamericans, your title is important. You do not call a priest padre for example, you call him father. If she is a tribal leader, she will expect you to show respect." "Gotcha. She is the queen of her tribe." Marina spoke swiftly. "My apologies, Quetzalxochitl. I wished to understand who I was addressing, and in so doing have delayed the talks." "You speak the language well, though it sounds a bit odd. Please continue." "Go ahead, sir." "We offer help because your race is dying. Many tribes we have seen like yours. Many others have been seen by those whom we work with. All are few in numbers because you must hide from the people around you. You can kill them; we have seen the weapons your warriors carry. But just as you need them to replenish your race, you need help for that which the jungle cannot supply." Morgan enumerated what he had brought. He showed them the prepackaged medicines that would ease pain and illness. "There is also news you might not have heard. Mating can heal those who have been injured." There was a buzz of conversation at that. The Faerie fell silent at a wave of the Queen's hand. "Tell me more of this." Morgan explained what had happened in Hawaii, in Chicago, and most recently in Japan. She listened, peering at him intently. "This was done by our own mating cycle?" she demanded. "Yes." "For this news alone I would let you leave our hill as men." She clapped her hands. "Bring those in need." She ordered. "What would you wish in return for this medicine and these magical boxes?" "Where we have met those that have things to trade, we have agreed to buy it at fair market value. Everything we have brought would cost you little in our money, and that would be easy to pay. One piece of gold this big, "He stretched his hands to mimic a fifty-cent piece, "Of about two ounces weight would pay for it all. The pile you have already given us will not be considered a gift. It will be money held in account so that you can get more. It has already paid for all of the weapons and supplies you have received, and yet there will be more, as you need it. "But we do not ask for goods from those that have none. If you had nothing, that is what we would expect in return. "You have things of such great worth that we would give all that you need in return for them. The markings made by those who built this Stone Home for you are of great value because it is part of history we do not know. The stories of your lives are of value to us. The stories of those that came with you are a rare coin in the modern world. The one who speaks for us is a student from this land, and that which you tell her would be of great worth to her people." She looked at them. "Just our words? And if we did not give them to you?" "Everything we have brought is yours as a gift for listening to our offer. If you give us nothing, we are still paid by your attention." Pairs of Faerie came in. Each pair carried a litter, with a recumbent form on it. "These were injured. Cacahuaxochitl was crushed by an attacking coloti Xocatl was struck by the paw of an Ocelotl. If this magic you claim works, these then are your way to prove it." "All right, Charlie, rig up the video system. We'll want this on tape for the professor. Marina, log out now." "Sir, I have questions." "Go ahead." "I do not understand why, but I believe you are systematically lying to these people." "Why do you say that?" "Sir, sex will not heal an injury, nor will it cure AIDS. I must refuse to help any more." "Marina, call the Professor and tell her what you believe. I promise you we have nothing but the interests of these people at heart." The girl flung down the headset. Ignoring the button, she stormed out of the room. A maid was in the hall, and she pointed when the girl demanded to know where the Professor was. She slammed open the door to the indicated room, then stopped. There was no one in there. Then a small figure lifted from the table, moving toward her. She backed into the door, almost screaming as she saw that it was a woman, merely four inches tall. "Shall we talk?" the tiny figure asked. "Yes shall we?" The girl spun. Professor Braziani held a tray with sliced fruit and a pitcher of milk. "We can have lunch as well." ***** A chastened Marina returned to the computer. She slid on the headset. Monica had given her the code for the data feed, and she saw the light blinking. The two men were still transmitting. Curious, she flipped it on. The camera moved, and she was looking into the face of a man. But behind him a pair of wings fluttered. "Setting up." Morgan's voice came over. He turned the camera in his hands. She realized that it was a small secret camera, making it about an inch square, yet he handled it as if it were a full sized television. The camera aimed, and she gasped in horror. The camera view showed the scars of long deep ripping slashes on a definitely female human back. But there was more. One of the wings had been ripped free; the other shredded by that massive blow. The idea that the victim survived it appalled her. ""As you can see professor, this girl was hurt a lot worse than the other," Morgan was saying. "I don't see how you can compare this to a pelvis shattered along with both legs." Monica's voice came back. "But you are the doctor." "Not yet. Premed only." "Ah but you are the closest we have." "Well Charles is helping Cacahuaxochitl." He stumbled over the name. "It is a flowering tree. The flowers are used as a frothing agent in a drink called tejate made in Oaxacan. It has no chocolate in it, but has a distinctly chocolate taste," Marina supplied. "Thanks. Are you sure we're not lying now?" "Yes. I had a dressing down from Nasturtium." "Yeah the Fairy rep is a pint-sized terror, isn't she?" "Actually she reminded me of my grandmother." "She should, she's about a hundred and seventy." "I am not!" a voice added. "I am not a day over one hundred and sixty- five!" The comment relieved the tension. "All right, Marina, unless you're into porno movies, I suggest you switch off your camera." "After hearing about what you are going to do, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" "Great. Two years of premed and I end up a porn star," the man grumbled. Marina watched. The woman had been given a dose of laudanum, and seemed almost bemused as the process began. But when she screamed in orgasm, it changed. Her wings grew back along with the second pair then she rolled the man who even as she watched was changing into a woman. The area that had been scarred was unmarred now. Marina stared breathless as the change continued, ending with two women, one who looked something like the singer Shakira lying together. "Marina." "Yes, Professor?" "Switch to the second camera. There is someone who wishes to speak with you." Marina did so. A Fairy with paired wings and bright yellow hair looked out of the screen. "I am Ololiuhqui. I will be your tehuapahuani." "I will try to be machtiloni," she said. The word meant 'teachable'. "Good. Long ago, over 25 Sacred Rounds distant, the Olmec came to the shores of this land. Where they came from is not known, for we of the people did not know them at that time. They settled in a great city they called Aztlan. "But their society grew stratified. They found themselves beneath the heels of oppressors called the Azteca Chicomoztoca. Then our people did meet them when the one humans called Huitzilopochtli befriended a human." "Wait." Marina considered what she had been told. In legends, the Nahuatl version of Moses who had freed his people from bondage was Huitzilopochtli, the Nahuatl name for Hummingbird. But the legends said it was a man. "Why is Huitzilopochtli thought to be a male?" Ololiuhqui laughed. "Can humans ever admit that a woman can do things a man cannot?" "I see what you mean. After all, the Hebrew word for God is Elohim, but the word for Goddess Elo. They make feminine words male by adding the suffix -him to them." "So. I would like to learn more about these 'Hebrews." "I will trade you knowledge for knowledge." "I bow to you on that promise. But come. Back to our legend. Huitzilopochtli discovered what was happening and she and her tribe organized the slaves of the Azteca Chicomoztoca and escaped to the right, going up the peninsula. Our people hid and fought the oppressors when they tried to follow until finally the slaves were left alone. Many of our people died in those weeks. "The tribes of the Nahuatlaca were the Xochimilca, Tlahuica, Acolhua, Tlaxcalan, Tepaneca, Chalca, and Mexica. They went past the city of Tollan; ever-farther north until they came to the lake called Texacoco. It was a long journey, and the elders of the Nahuatlaca died upon it. "They settled in the plains around the lake, each tribe building their own city, each staying to themselves except for us, for we were beloved by all. But war came to them, for they were still humans, and some always wish to be greater than the others. Soon a man of the Mexica named Tenoch argued that they would be slain by the enemies to the south if they did not band together. He swayed the peoples of the tribes, and they swore their allegiance to him. He subdued those who did not agree, and built the city of Tenochtitlan where he ruled. "But the humans grew away from us. They changed the remembered form of our sister Huitzilopochtli, making her a man, yet still in their legends, their own warriors became papalotl or Huitzilopochtli when they went into the great beyond. Where once they had built the Stone Home I am within in gratitude, we had become spirits and monsters to them." "How did that come about? That men would become butterflies or hummingbirds?" "We did not let those that fought for their tribes die on that Journey. If we could save them, we made them of our race, and their memories live on among us. This the first peoples knew. But when the Caxtiltecatl came with their Tepehuani and their tlachinolli-tlacotli, they first lied to the people of the outlying villages, then defeated the armies of Moctezuma and the Mexica. "We helped when we could, but the distance between us had become to great. We were considered an enemy as much as the Caxtiltecatl. So instead we withdrew, moving away from the humans we had loved and cherished, those we had protected so long. We had to watch as their people fell into what they are now." "We will never forget you again," Marina told her. "As long as mankind can read, there will be those that remember you." Ololiuhqui sighed. "I heard the same from other humans long before the White men came here. I heard it from the people, from the chiefs, from the priests, long before Moctezuma fell stoned by his own people. You will understand why my people will withhold judgment on your people." Leaving home. George Harricord finished his packing. He wasn't taking much. After all, the Faerie were too small to have much storage space. All of the pictures from their albums had been converted to digital format, and stored on PSP discs, as were a dozen books he wanted to read. There was a knock on the door, and he answered it. Samantha Schaefer and Robert Harricord, their two oldest stood there. "We want to know what is going on, Dad," Samantha demanded. She pushed the old man aside, storming into the apartment. "Why did you sell the house?" "Because I am an adult and I can do things like that," George replied. "Comes with being a great-grandfather." Robert held out a conciliatory hand. "We still don't understand why you suddenly have to travel. When Mom was still alive-" "She's only missing, Bobby!" Samantha snapped hysterically. "Until they find the body, we have to hope!" "Sam." Robert sighed. "She's been missing for almost six months now. Even the FBI thinks she would have to be dead without her medication." "She's alive!" Samantha gasped, breaking into tears. "She's alive!" "Sam shut the waterworks off." George snapped. "I can't stand to see a woman cry, but a fifty-five year old woman doing it is just plain pathetic." "Dad!" "Zip it, Bobby." George leaned on the chair arms, his face inches from his daughter. "Is your mother alive? Hell yes she is. It was her idea to have you fight over the furniture and sell the house. That way I can leave to join her." "But dad! The FBI-" "I can tell the FBI the truth and end up in a jail cell because they won't believe me!" He stood back up, glaring at her. "We gave our lives to see you and Bobby standing on your own hind legs. If Phillip had survived Vietnam, we'd have done it for him too. We have spent our money seeing you both got college educations, we invested money in trust funds for all of the grand kids, and all we get is shit from you because maybe we want to spend the golden years of our lives without being poked at like lab specimens!" "Dad that isn't true-" "Oh yeah, Bobby?" George rounded on him. "Then why did we spend the better part of a year with you dragging us from rest home to rest home? I talked with Colonel Barret about that little trick you tried to pull when Becky ended up in the hospital!" "I don't know what you mean." "Oh you don't?" George shook his head. "Old doesn't mean stupid. Trying to get the court to assign you conservatorship of Becky and I? The fact that it also means you then control our money didn't have anything to do with it?" "Bobby-" "Shut up, Sam," Bobby snarled. "He's getting senile and this is just more proof of it. Once Doctor Blake gets here it's all over." "I don't understand." Samantha looked at her father. "Bobby's business is in the toilet. He invested in the wrong things a few times too many, and he sees our funds as a way out of the hole. So he gets us judged to be incompetent, and some smart lawyer has all of our money put into his hot little hands. Except for your mom and I everyone is happy." There was a honking sound. He turned, picking up the case. "Well if your doctor knows magic, maybe he'll find me. Maybe not. Because my ride is here." "You're not going anywhere." Bobby stood between him and the door. "Boy, you can get out of my way, or I am going to give you the whipping I should have when you were ten," George warned. Bobby grabbed the case, and they fought over it. The door opened, and a large black man stood there. He took all of ten seconds to figure out what was happening, and ended the confrontation by picking the younger man up by the collar. "You okay, sir?" "I will be when I get out of here," George said. The huge black man stripped the case out of Bobby's hands, then dropped him on the couch. "I'm calling the police!" Bobby screamed taking out his cell phone. "Sam, I'll miss you." George hugged the woman. "Let's go, Jeff." Ten minutes later, responding to a report of a kidnapping, Houston Police stopped the car of Jeffery Holcombe of the Baytown Tarpons. Holcombe reported that the altercation had been because George Harricord had wanted to leave, and Harricord's son Robert had refused to allow it. While Holcombe admitted to picking the man up to end the altercation, he denied striking the man which had been claimed by Robert Harricord, and the further claim that Holcombe had been armed was disproved when the man allowed the police to search his vehicle. There was a small case of clothes which The elder Harricord had left in his vehicle, but there was no sign of any struggle in the vehicle itself. Later forensic testing proved that no blows had been struck. The facts as reported by Holcombe were verified by Samantha Schaefer the missing man's daughter. Holcombe reported that he had taken the man to the local bus station, and left him there. George had been seen buying a ticket for Shreveport Louisiana, but the old man was not on the bus, or at the station. The FBI investigated at the insistence of Robert Harricord, but there had been no leads. ***** George got off the seaplane flight in Coatzacoalcos, and almost collapsed as the heat struck him. Charles was there with a cup of tejate. "We have some stuff to wait on, George. But that will perk you up." They chatted as a larger plane landed. Cases were unloaded, and Charles checked them, and hired a couple of Meztizo to put them in the Land Rover. "What is that?" "Our last contacted tribe had gold literally just lying around. They ordered a bunch of stuff, and we're delivering it," Charles told him. "Bows, arrows, pikes, more medicine, and about fifty movies on PSP they heard about and want to see." He laughed. "There's a company outside Mexico City that has been taking all of the old movies and dubbing them in Nahuatl. I watched Star Wars last night in Nahuatl and almost died laughing." They paid the men, and drove away. "You heard?" Miguel asked. "Gold, just lying on the ground!" Hernando said. "And these Americanos will get it." "No they won't. We have friends, they have guns. We will take the gold." ***** It was almost an hour to the lay by, then another three and a half driving along the narrow road they had cut in the last few days. George had looked back several times, and he leaned toward Charles as they left the paved road. "We're being followed." "I know." Charles smiled. "The two guys I paid to help load the truck? They've been snooping around for the last week every time one of us comes into town. Trying to get hired as guides, trying to figure out what we're buying. About as subtle as a heart attack about it. We weren't sure what they were. Simple bandits or maybe pothunters. "The girls have dealt with both over the centuries, and they don't like them. We talked to the ladies out there, and they licked their lips at some new blood for the tribe. Why do you think I said gold out loud for them?" "You set them up," George accused. "Set them up? Did I tell them to rob us?" Charles grinned. "There's an old saying in the con game that you can't cheat an honest man. A lot of times it is the truth, because it's their greed that causes them to jump at the chance. If they are honest, they will approach us the next time we go into town, and ask us for work, promising to keep quiet. But if we're right..." "That doesn't seem fair." "George, the problem with right and fair is the universe doesn't adhere to either value. These guys see three white men getting something they want, and they feel it should be theirs. All I'm doing is making sure that they will be of some use to society." George shook his head. "I believe in capital punishment, but you guys make me look like a right to life liberal." "Us?" Charles laughed. "I told the Queen of the Stone house about them last week and her answer was that about fifty of the women from the Forest realms have had children by that kind in the last century. What's a few more?" The Rover rumbled through the jungle, pulling up beside the hill. Over a hundred Faerie flew down. Eloxochitl and Tlilxochitl had offered to act as go betweens for tribes deeper into the jungle, and now seven different tribes were operating from this central hub. Tetl Chantli was one of three such structures, and Marina up in Chicago had gone to the anthropology and archeology departments hoping to fund an expedition to examine all of them first hand. The only problem Charles and Morgan had was that all three of the tribes called themselves people of the Stone Home. But the tribes had agreed that they would accept numbers, so the one they were in right now was now called Tetl Chantli Ce, or one, while the one farthest west (Another 30 kilometers) was Tetl Chantli Yeyi, and the one to the north and west Tetl Chantli Ome'. Three and two respectively. But unless Morgan could score that helicopter, the goods for those Stone Homes would have to be moved either by the women themselves, or by the process of cutting more roads. A project taking not days, but months. "These two boxes are for your tribe." He told Tithonia to tell them. "The other six go to the other Stone Homes once we find the helicopter." Tithonia told Quinoa, who told the women. Charles opened the boxes that were consigned to the locals, and the girls landed to begin bringing it inside. The Velcro strap baby carriers had taken some explaining, but the women took to them with excitement. Too many of their young had died because a mother carrying her child was unable to protect herself. Inside the Stone Home, Morgan was talking to Martin. "You are out of what ever you call a mind," Martin said. The voice was female. Right now he probably still looked like Joey Heatherton. "You need supply drops?" "Martin check out the map. Stone two is almost twenty klicks to the northwest, and stone three is almost exactly 30 klicks due west. All of it through double and triple canopy jungle. Do you know how long it is going to take us on foot humping that stuff?" "Yeah. Two days to either one assuming a ravine or a river doesn't catch you." "Yeah. Each way. We're supposed to be south of the Yucatan by now!' "Join the club." Martin leaned back into the sleeping form of Rosslyn, the Faerie he had spent the night with. Her arm reached out, pulling him to her. "We were supposed to be on the other side of Wales." "What's your excuse?" "Same as yours. No one is anywhere near the schedules we laid out in Chicago." He shrugged even though Morgan couldn't see it. "Just be glad the Godmother didn't expect those timetables to be set in stone." "So you can't do it?" "Of course I can do it. But I need a landline, not a hand held. Too many bad guys use them, and the frequencies are heavily watched, especially here." He considered. They were in a nest near Bridgend-Pen-y-Bont Ar Ogwr in Wales. "I can probably drive into town this evening." He sighed. "What do you need?" "A small chopper. Something the size of a Cayuse would be a bit large, but I don't know what is handy near by. Then there's the other problem." "Don't tell me problems, you know how I feel about problems." "Not a big one I think. We've had pothunters sniffing around. We expect them to make a try for the camp tonight or tomorrow." "When I was still working I avoided those kinds of problems. What do you need?" "The women will handle them. In fact if their maneuvers outside are any indication, they will deal with them easily. But that leaves trucks, guns, that kind of thing just lying around." "Not a problem. I may have some contacts in Mexico that will take care of that." "Then I'll try to get back to you... Wait a minute. George just came in. It's going to be tonight." "Any estimate?" "Thirty. Six trucks, and a shit load of ordinance." "Shit. Stay alive you bastard." ***** The group leader conferred in the trees above the parked boxes, no trucks, Quihuicha corrected. She was in overall command, and looked at the others. Her sister Tipu had volunteered to lead one of the teams from her own forest tribe, as did Poyomaxochitl Tlapatl of that same tribe. Quinoa Achita Sinicuichi of her own tribe led the next set of teams. Six teams in all, almost one hundred fifty warriors. But they were not killing this prey if they could avoid it. ***** Mario Sanchez racked the bolt on his AK. "You six, stay with the trucks." He ordered. "The rest of you, that is the way they went." He motioned for Miguel and Hernando to lead off. The trucks were heavily laden with tools and explosives. If there was a ruin, they had to move quickly before the Government swooped in to guard it. The men left to guard the trucks leaned into the sides of them, and a couple lit cigarettes. ***** Pathetic." Quihuicha commented. "These were left to guard the machines, but look at them! Two ruin their night vision, and those two, are they drinking?" "Not all of our enemies are competent," Tipu commented. "This is merely our luck. How long do we wait?" "Until they are far enough away that they will not hear shouts." She waved toward the men that moved in a clump up the cut road. It was half a mile from where they had parked to the nest. "Send one of yours to watch them. When they are almost to the clearing, we will begin with these." Pedro relaxed, the pulque easing down his throat. He knew the Jefe would be mad if he got drunk, but he hated the jungle. "No more of this." He told his brother Sanchi. "After this, I take the money, go to Vera Cruz, and become a pool boy, fucking Yanqui women while their men chase ours." "You say that every time, mano." Sanchi laughed. "But you always come back." "I see another inch of jungle, I am going to scream, mano." Pedro replied. He saw something up in the tree, and he picked up the M16 he had been given. He liked the gun, Like the Americano actor Schwartzenegger used. Something bit him, and he dropped it, slapping at his wrist. Arana! Fucking spiders! Something else bit his legs, and he cursed, trying to wipe the damn things off him. He heard Sanchi laughing then he was cursing as well, dancing like a madman. Over by the other trucks, they seemed to have been bitten as well. Damn it Tarantulas didn't travel in packs! He grabbed for the flashlight, noting that the handle seemed larger than it should have been, and flicked it on. Something flittered directly in front of him. It hovered, and the Fairy winked at him before she vanished like that monster in the movie Depredador. Something bit him on the hand, and he dropped the flashlight. Another stinging bite, and another! "Pedro!" He turned. How had Sanchi grown so large in just a few moments? He tried to reach out, but both of them were slapping frantically as things kept biting them. He tried to run, but his calzado flew off his feet. His pants were falling and he caught them trying to maintain his dignity and speed, but they kept falling farther and farther as he ran toward the road. He was holding them up even with his chin and still they dragged, slowing him. Something hit him in the back, and small hands held him down. He fought, but it was like fighting a swarm of bees. Other hands, these larger caught his arms, and he found himself pinned to the ground as small women pinned every limb. There was a tearing feeling in his back, and he tried to scream, but one of them had slapped her hand across his mouth before he could cry out. Then his arms were dragged behind him, and something bound his hands. There was giggling, and he rolled over, looking up at the winged women that stood over them. If he wasn't terrified, he would have thought he had died and gone to heaven. One of them bent, smiling an evil smile. "This one is mine," she said in Nahuatl. ***** Mario stopped; looking at the Land Rover that was parked by the small hill. Like Hernando, he could see that it looked artificial, the sides too straight and even to be natural. But where were the Yanquis? He stepped out, gun at low port. His men stepped out a moment later, and he looked over the line. Then his smile slipped. There should be twenty- four. But he only counted twenty. If those stupid Pendejo had gotten drunk... He motioned, and they moved forward. The truck was sitting there empty, except for some crates. He smashed one open, but all there was in it were toys, little bows, little spears, and small bottles. He shoved it aside. "Find them," he ordered. Manuel the local tracker lit his flashlight, looking at the ground around the truck. After hissing and telling the stupid bastards to stop fucking trampling the signs he was trying to read, he made a slow circle between the mound and the truck. "Three men have been here. But they only walked from here to st