The Eye of Heaven

27

It rained all of the following day, so Sam and Remi immersed themselves in studying everything they could find on Teotihuacan, focusing on the Temple of the Feathered Serpent. The history of the city was fascinating, as was the speed with which it had ceased to be viable — at one point, it was the largest in the world, but it was abandoned around A.D. 700 and destroyed by fire fifty years later. A city that at one point was larger than Rome had become a ghost town. And as little is known about its builders as about the Toltecs, whose own city was only sixty miles north.

They didn’t see Carlos all day but assumed that he was at his other office and would contact them about funding the project when he’d gotten approval for a dig. The day dragged by slowly and by five o’clock they were both more than ready to leave.

Morning brought the blessed relief of the sun and, with it, travel to Teotihuacan to see the layout for themselves. Even though they’d studied it, nothing could have prepared them for the grandeur when they exited their taxi and stood in front of the huge stone figure that acted as a greeter near the museum gates.

They moved with a small group of German tourists and walked onto the long, wide Avenue of the Dead, which bisected the city and terminated at the Pyramid of the Moon. The Temple of the Feathered Serpent was at the opposite end of the unearthed portion of the city, with the Pyramid of the Sun between the two landmarks — an incredible sight and the third-largest pyramid in the world after those in Egypt and Cholula.

Sam indicated the surrounding buildings. “You get a sense of how vast it was and how evolved the civilization must have been. One of the most amazing things is how geometrically precise the layout is. The front wall of the Pyramid of the Sun aligns with the points where the sun sets on the equinoxes, and the Avenue of the Dead points at the setting of the Pleiades. Astronomy played a huge role in this society.”

“The other thing I wasn’t prepared for is how hot it is. I guess no shade anywhere has its drawbacks,” Remi said as they walked up the famed avenue, taking in the city’s size. “And here I was complaining about it being cold just a few days ago on Baffin.”

They strolled along in silence, and, after they had moved halfway along the Avenue of the Dead, Sam held his phone up, as if checking for a signal, and then spoke softly. “Don’t turn around, but our tail’s about two hundred yards behind us.”

“Are you sure?”

“See for yourself.” Sam had been filming as he held the cell aloft. He quickly rewound and handed the phone to her. The footage was bouncy, but he’d caught an image of a Hispanic male in his thirties, walking alone, looking out of place. He obviously hadn’t been expecting to have to walk miles in the heat and was dressed differently than the other visitors, to his detriment.

“Doesn’t look very happy, does he?”

“He was probably thinking he’d be sitting all day, not going on a hike.”

“You know, you’ve just inspired me to pick up the pace and spend twice as much time walking the site as we’d planned,” Remi said, handing the phone back to him.

“Bad day to be in the ‘Follow the Fargos’ business.”

“Let’s make him earn his money, shall we?”

“You’re a hard woman, Remi Fargo.”

“Aye, that I am, kind sir. That I am.”

The Pyramid of the Moon loomed before them, with smaller temples on either side lining the avenue. They stopped at the Palace of the Jaguars, so named because of the colorful frescoes to be found throughout its interior, and savored the shade from the corrugated-metal roof before trekking to the Palace of Quetzalpapalotl, which owed its name to the illustrations on its walls of a mythical butterfly creature. It had been renovated and stood in most of its former glory. They took their time inside, fully aware that their tail was out in the harsh sun. When he finally followed them inside, they left and made for the Pyramid of the Moon, forcing him back outside.

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Sam said quietly as they started ascending the steps on the front of the pyramid along with a few other hardy tourists.

“Not me. Nobody’s forcing him to tail us.”

“He definitely got the raw end of the deal. Did you see? He’s wearing black leather dress shoes. Not a good choice for this kind of thing. He’ll be lucky if he can walk by the time this is over.”

“And there’s so much more to see. Wow, look at this view,” she said, then pulled her phone from her pocket and took some photos of the entire city spread out before them. The buildings shimmered from the heat rising off the pavement as Sam and Remi took in the awe-inspiring panorama.

“Where to next?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I think we need to see the Pyramid of the Sun, don’t we? And then we can finish up in the Citadel, which is the section with the Temple of the Feathered Serpent over on the far end.”

“Good thing we ate a big breakfast. We won’t be out of here until two or three at this rate.”

“And our tail will be limping on stumps by then. Didn’t his mom ever tell him that sensible shoes were important?”

“And sunscreen. Bet he wishes he’d brought a hat, at the very least. Should be a mean burn. We are at seven thousand feet. Ouch.”

“Now even I’m feeling a little sorry for him,” Remi said, “but not enough to wind this down. Am I correct that there were temple structures on top of each of those smaller pyramids before the city was destroyed?” she asked, pointing to the row to her left.

“That’s the assumption. Same for the top of this one, as well as the others.”

“Makes you feel very small and recent, doesn’t it? To think that all this was thriving fifteen hundred years before we were born. And now it’s largely mounds of dirt.”

“Nobody gets out of this alive. Which is a good reason to make the most of it while the sun’s shining. Which it definitely is today, as our friend can attest to.”

Remi took Sam’s hand. “Come on, let’s get to the big pyramid. Our boy down there seems like he’s getting way too much rest. And how long can he stare at the other buildings before he stands out even more? This is the main attraction, and everyone else has climbed the steps.”

The smaller temples along the way were large when viewed from the ground, the terrain beyond them rising nearly to their summits. When excavation had started, the city had been bumps of land with an occasional structure peeking from the landscape, the earth seemingly eager to reclaim it as though wiping any trace of Teotihuacan from its surface.

They climbed the steps to the Pyramid of the Sun and gazed down at the rest of the complex two hundred feet below.

“Poor Quetzalcoatl’s pyramid’s kind of puny compared to this. He got shorted. Those feathered snakes get no respect,” Sam joked as a welcome breeze tousled his hair.

“Let’s stop in at the museum. No doubt it has air-conditioning. Let’s cool off there and then finish up with Snake Boy, shall we?”

“Sounds like a good plan. Especially the AC part.”

The museum was filled with artifacts that had been uncovered during the hundred years of archaeological exploration of the site and included a map and a simulation of what the city had looked like in its prime. All the buildings had been covered with plaster and bright paint, decorated with frescoes to honor the gods and celebrate important moments in the civilization’s history. They browsed for fifteen minutes, enjoying the cool of climate control, and then made their final way to the area called the Citadel by the Spanish, which they had thought was a fort but was actually a plaza that housed the Temple of the Feathered Serpent.

As they approached the temple, it didn’t look particularly impressive compared to the two larger pyramids. But once they’d mounted the steps of the platform in front of it, they could see the detail of the carved snake heads and the elaborate depictions of serpents winding their way around each level.

“It’s certainly all about snakes,” Sam said.

“Go snake or go home. That’s my new motto.”

“You’re in the right place, then. All snake all the time.”

“But with feathers. Don’t forget the plumage.”

“Of course not.”

“Looks like it’s closed off to visitors,” Remi observed. “And they’re working on some of the heads.”

“I have a feeling this is a bit like owning a bridge. You’re never really done with maintenance.”

“Then this was the center of the city?”

“That’s the thinking. But the rest is under that farmland over there.”

“And that shopping center.”

Remi pointed to the pyramid. “So you think our chamber could be along the back side? Can we get over there?”

“Doesn’t look that way. It’s cordoned off. Besides, once we have a permit, we’ll be out here for days while we excavate. I’m sure there’s nothing to see until then — just more dirt.”

After twenty minutes looking over the Citadel, they headed back to the main entrance, where a row of taxis waited in the sweltering heat for exhausted visitors. As they took the first in line, Remi sneaked a peek behind them, where their shadow was hobbling as fast as he could to the parking lot.

“Should we wait for him?” she suggested.

“No. Why make anything easy?”

“I wonder who he is? Or, rather, who put him up to it?”

“Someone really frustrated about now. Don’t worry. We’ll ditch them once we have the permit. There are small hotels around here we can stay where we’ll never be found. The trail will end with an empty bag.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The trip back took an hour, and, after a late lunch at a nearby restaurant, they went to the Institute. Outside, two police cars were parked at the curb, with a few curious students standing near them.

“I wonder what this is all about?” Remi muttered as they entered the building.

Maribela was standing at the security desk, talking with a police officer in hushed tones. When she saw them, she disengaged and approached, strain evident on her beautiful face.

“What is it, Maribela?” Sam asked.

“It’s Carlos. He’s disappeared. The police say he’s been kidnapped.”

“Carlos?” Remi blurted.

Maribela frowned and nodded. “It’s a regrettable part of living in Mexico City. Kidnappings happen all too often.”

“That’s terrible. What are the police doing?”

“They’re going through his office to see if there’s anything that could help identify the kidnappers, but it’s purely a formality. These are usually organized criminal gangs that do it for the money. They target the wealthy and the powerful. I’m afraid that Carlos is a little of both, between his family fortune and his position with the government.”

“Do … do the kidnappers usually harm their victims?” Remi asked.

Maribela’s face clouded further. “Sometimes. There’s no way of predicting it. But we’ll pray that there’s a swift resolution to this and that Carlos is returned to us unharmed. I’m afraid that’s all we can do.”