Kevin J. Anderson - X-files by Ruins

Author:Ruins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 2011-04-16T08:10:02+00:00

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Together, they climbed the steps of the central Pyramid of Kukulkan. Panting in the humid air, they exerted themselves up the steep incline and the narrow and uneven limestone stairs.

"Careful," Mulder said seriously. "It's not very sta-ble."

Rubicon bent to inspect the weathered stairs them-selves, pointing out carvings that had been picked clean, the moss removed, the dirt and limestone pow-der brushed away from the cracks.

"See, Cassandra's team has cleaned the first twelve steps. If I could read these glyphs, we could learn why the Maya built Xitaclan, what made this place such a sacred site." He stood up, pressing a hand against his lower back. "But I'm not an expert in this form. Few peo-ple are. Maya glyphs are among the most difficult of all mankind's written languages to decipher. That's why Cassandra brought her own special epigrapher with her team."

"Yes," Scully said, "Christopher Porte."

Rubicon shrugged. "I understand he was quite skilled."

"Let's see what's on the top of the pyramid," Mulder said, and trudged higher up the steep incline.

"Probably an open-air temple," Rubicon answered. "The high priest would stand on the platform and face the rising sun before he made his sacrifices."

At the top, Mulder stopped, placed his hands on his hips, and drew a deep breath as he took in the spectacu-lar view.

The Central American jungle spread out like a flat carpet as far as he could see, trees laden with vines, everything a lush, lush green. Stone temple ruins in the distance poked up through the foliage like giant tomb-stones.

"The past is strong in this place," Rubicon muttered.

Mulder could imagine the Maya priests feeling god-like, standing so close to heaven under the pounding morning sun. The crowds would have waited in the plaza below, congregating after their labors out in the forest where they slashed and burned to plant crops of maize and beans and peppers. The priest stood here at the top, perhaps with his drugged or bound sacrificial victim, ready to shed blood to honor the gods.

Mulder's runaway imagination was jarred when old Vladimir Rubicon cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted "Cassandra!" into the jungle. His words echoed across the landscape, startling birds from the treetops. "Cassandra!"

he bellowed again.

Rubicon looked around, listening, waiting. Mulder and Scully stood next to the archaeologist, holding their breath. The old man had tears in his eyes. "I had to try," he said, shrugging his bony shoulders.

Then, looking embarrassed, Rubicon turned to the tall temple pillars and the flat platform. Mulder saw elabo-rate stone designs chiseled into the limestone, flecks of paint still visible in the protected crevices and crannies.

The builders of Xitaclan had repeated the feathered serpent motif again and again, creating conflicting impressions of fear and protection, power and sub-servience. Other drawings showed a tall man, faceless, with some strange body armor or a suit, flames flowing from behind him. A rounded covering on his head that looked unmistakably like a ...

"Doesn't that figure remind you of something, Scully?" he asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest, then shook her head.

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