from which serpents protruded. He held a staff in each outstretched hand. “That is Viracocha,” Atahualpa said, “and there is Pachacamac.”
The second statue was humanoid but with the head of a beast—fierce eyes, protruding fangs, a fearsome expression. A big ‘5’ sign, from which a vulture’s head protruded, adorned its chest. It held a long knife in one hand, and in the other a human skull by the hair.
“The Aztecs have a similar patron god, named Quetzalcoatl, and the war-god, Tezcatlipoca. Cortez says the Aztecs are especially devoted to Tezcatlipoca. Human skulls and ‘5’ symbols, Pachacamac statue, adorn their sacrificial altars. Were they men or gods?”
“Yes, though they are far away, we have heard rumors of the Aztecs’ savagery and human sacrifices to Pachacamac. Unlike us Incas, they have caused much misery among the people they subjugate. Viracocha and Pachacamac are neither men nor gods. They were deities, god-men.”
“Sacrilege. There is but one God, the ChristianGod, creator of all that exists.”
“Yes, the source of all creation. We believe in like those on this war banners and the Creator too. The Creator blesses us and sustains life through its worldly manifestation, the Sun. That must be what you call your Christian God.”
“The sun is not God. God created it and everything else.”
“Yes, the Creator. We worship the same thing.”
“Then why do you worship the sun and so-called god-men?”
“I told you we worship the sun as the Creator’s manifestation. Viracocha is a legendary god who shaped our history and culture. He left relics and buildings as his legacy.”
“What buildings?”
“Great stone structures that are our holy sites. Viracocha’s men built them of stone, shaped and moved through the air by the power of their Word. They taught our ancestors to build stone terraces to control the earth and water for farming. The towers of sacred Sacsayhuaman were designed to study the heavens. They drew the lines in the coastal desert of Nazca. Many sacred temples and ancient sites in Inca lands are dedicated to Viracocha. Just as there are ancient sites dedicated to Pachacamac, the war-god, where you can see him portrayed with carvings of warriors and dead or dismembered enemies. Our subject nations are no longer certain of the mysterious origins of their ancient sites and legends. The heritage of the people of Nazca, Paracas, the Chimus, and the Chancas describe those ancient times. They say their dry coastal deserts were once lush and fertile, with many rivers and lakes fed by the ice atop the mountains. But then the waters stopped flowing a few thousand years ago. They say their food supplies and population numbers dwindled, weakening the coastal nations and leaving them subjects of the Inca Empire. We brought Viracocha’s peaceful ways, the ways we inherited from our ancestors who lived in Tihuanaco near Lake Titicaca where you can still see the ancient Temple of Viracocha. The Inca nation united all those warlike people and turned them away from war, misery, and death—the ways of Pachacamac. We restored peace, and the ancient systems of farming, stonework, and water management.”
“You call those pre-Inca Pizarro said. “How ancient?”
“Older than anyone engraved on sacred stone tablets and guarded in our temples say there have been four age sof civilization before ours. Calamities destroyed them all. The present age began after the floods and the departure of Viracocha. They say our age is about twelve thousand years old and will end after many hardships and great changes on Earth. Then Viracocha will return to save us, his children.”
“What changes?”
“I do not understand much of the prophecy. Our temple guardians protect the sacred tablets that reveal Viracocha’s final instructions before he left. That information is not available to everyone. It is held and guarded in secret locations, awaiting the time when it will be revealed to the chosen ones.”
“What time?”
“When our age ends, the next will begin, the sixth age. Viracocha will return to help his children. The sacred texts contain the secret guidelines for that era.”
“So your people think we are the fulfillment of that prophecy? They think one of us is your so-called god Viracocha?” Pizarro asked.
“Some believed so. But rebel nations want to use you for political reasons, to betray us. I am trying to lead my people responsibly.”
“Is that why you tried to welcome me instead of fighting?”
knows. nations
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Atahualpa gazed sadly into infinity. “I told you that despite my doubts I respect my people’s beliefs and traditions. I shall bear the pain of knowing that my people and nation will suffer from my mistake for many generations.”
“I have some questions,” Pizarro said flatly. “I will be frank. Your civilization dazzles me. The architecture, the stone masonry, and the water systems are many times more advanced and complex than anything in Europe. Even the famous Andalusian Moors would marvel at the skills of your craftspeople. Only the Orient products rival your metal castings, your ceramics, and your textiles. You know agriculture, food storage, and medicine.”
“But what is your question?”“Three questions, really. First, why do you do not have a writing system?”
“Our expanded Inca Empire is only just over a hundred years old. We have a system for record keeping, and experts who know how to use it. They serve the empire’s administrative needs. Otherwise we transfer information orally. Our official messengers and record keepers have excellent memories. What is your next question?”
“Why don’t you use gold or silver to value the goods and services you trade?”
“I do not understand the question,” the Grand Inca replied. “The land belongs to the Creator. As the gods taught us of the Creator’s wishes, Inca society rests on equal benefits, justice, and welfare for all. The Inca Administrators are caretakers of the land and the people, maintaining the empire and its security. We build and maintain roads, water reservoirs and canals, public buildings, temples, and other sacred sites. Regional communities—we call them ayllus—care for the land parcels entrusted to them. They manage and farm the land. They provide food for their people and obtain other needs at designated exchange centers. If the ayllus neglect or harm the land, the Creator’s gift, their leaders lose their privileges as punishment. The more they produce, the more they can obtain by exchange. We let no Inca subject starve, and our healers provide care without cost. How can gold and silver measure the Creator’s love of the world and its people? That makes no sense to me. Why do you worship gold and silver? They are good for ornaments. They are easy to smelt, malleable enough to cast and work, and never corrode. Indeed they are beautiful, but the Creator blesses nature with them freely. Why should we equate something found freely in nature with the fruits of our labor and craft? You cannot eat gold if you are hungry or wear it if you are cold. The value of a golden object is represented by the amount of effort that transforms it useful. Your lust for gold and silver puzzles us. How can you take the precious Sacred Disk and melt it to a valueless block of gold? You are either crazy or stupid. If people’s efforts and work products are exchanged for what the Creator provides freely, then gold can enslave craftspeople and farmers who have no access to gold. Then only those with gold control the rules of exchange, like the value of a bag of maize or an alpaca in gold. And that makes no sense. In any society, some must find and process gold or other natural minerals. Some must craft them into useful or beautiful objects, while others must farm to feed everyone else. Here the Incas exchange according to how much work and effort goes into producing each craft or crop, and NOT according to the dictates of those who have a lot of gold. Gold, like everything else in the world, is the Creator’s gift, freely provided for all, not just the unscrupulous few.”
Our friends looked at Gold, who looked perplexed.
Pizarro asked his third question. “Why don’t the Inca have steel swords. You have very advanced metallurgical skills. You use gold, silver, copper, even bronze alloys. But not steel. Why?
“The devilish hard metal you slice our flesh with is unknown to us. Our soldiers and craftspeople use polished obsidian, other hard stones, or brass to make weapons, arrowheads, chisels, and knives. We had never seen this metal. What is it? Where is it found?”
“Steel comes from cooking iron with coal,” Pizarro explained. “Spain and other countries of my world know many places to find iron. It is much stronger than bronze. As you saw today, no sword or shield of yours resists the blow of a steel sword, and your obsidian or brass tipped spears and arrows are useless against our steel plated armor.
“What are those large, fast animals you ride?”
“Horses. Our ancestors have domesticated them since ancient times.”
“With your strong steel swords, shields, and armor, atop your fast powerful beasts—we haven’t a chance against you fighting on foot. What are those thunderous fire weapons that flash and kill from a distance?”
“You mean our guns and cannons. We learned about them from the Orientals. The Moors and the Turks taught us to use them. They learned about gunpowder from the Chinese and harnessed its explosive power within a metal chamber. The explosion causes a spewing metal ball far deadlier than an arrowhead or a stone from a slingshot.”
“What evil magic spell do your people know that makes us sick and weak and has killed so many of us?”
“Disease. We don’t know how, but they move from the sick to the healthy and make them sick.”
“How did you build such big boats? And how did you find your way here?” Atahualpa asked.
“We learned to build corsairs and galleons from our contact with other seafaring people. They had learned from seafaring people before them, who gradually developed and perfected marine vessels for trade. As for how we found our way here . . . We use a compass to find a direction. A compass uses a magnet, a special type of iron needle that always points to the same north-south direction. A compass shows where one is going. If you know the wind’s strength, you can determine the distance a ship travels in a day. We chart that on a map to see where we are.”
“But if you had never been here before, why did you think of coming here?”
“An Italian explorer, Christopher Columbus, discovered this continent about twenty-five years ago. His expedition set out to find a westerly route through the uncharted ocean to reach the riches of the Orient. But it was no accident that he found this New World.”
Everyone’s ears perked up.
“I,” Pizarro went organization. Christopher Vespucci, the explorer who identified the new lands as a continent, belong too. The society guards the secret body of knowledge held by an even older group called the Order of the Knights Templar, once very powerful and influential. But the Catholic Church persecuted them, and most of them went into hiding and carried on their secret activities with new identities and organizations. Among many other relics and secrets, the Templars’ archives contained ancient charts and maps that came from the Orient. No one was certain whether they were real or false. They showed unknown lands to the west and south of Europe. They also presented the world as round, contrary to the common belief that the earth is flat. The maps showed the New World, and now on, “belong to a secret Columbus and Amerigo we have found it. For a long time the maps and charts puzzled us. When the Christians finally defeated the Moors of Andalusia, we found similar old charts and maps with the same information. The Moorish scholars believed their maps to originate from ancient Egypt, India, Mesopotamia, and China, lands you may not know about. My Order was well aware of many such ancient mysteries, though we kept them hidden from the public—and the Church. One of the Templars’ responsibilities when they were formed during the Crusades was to find, preserve, and insure the survival of ancient knowledge. Soon, when the time is right, we will reveal them and generate a renaissance of civilization. Our purpose was to rediscover the New World and prove the old maps authentic. Of course, the crown, the church, and my men and I are also here for this land’s riches.”
“So,” Atahualpa added, “your mission to bring us ‘salvation’ is really about a secret agenda, as well as the chance to exploit my land and people.”
Pizarro did not answer. He could reveal no more.
“You say your people, government, and church, are really after my land’s riches. What do we have here that you cannot find in your own land?”
“Gold. Europe has no significant sources of gold and silver. Spain and most other nations use gold for all commerce and economic exchange. Your gold will make us all very rich.”
“You are fooled by Pachacamac’s evil influences!” Atahualpa cried. “He rules your minds and souls. You say our gold will make you rich. But, you fail to recognize that you will only enrich the people who produce the goods and services your gold will buy. You steal our gold. When you steal and exploit others, you abandon the ways of peace. You will grow lazy and forget how to produce life’s necessities. You will depend on exploiting others. To provide for your people, you will give your stolen gold to other nations, those who actually produce your food, clothes and everything else. They will learn new skills and knowledge to get rich off your evil deeds and greed, while you grow decadent and ignorant…true poverty. When our gold runs out, your will find yourselves poor, with no skills for producing food and other things you need. You will resort to further evil deeds, to enslave others to feed yourselves. Your world will become ruthless and warlike. Whether you are rich or poor, Pachacamac will enslave you and steal the freedom of your true self, the spirit the Creator gave you. True wealth comes only from living harmoniously with nature and the universe. Can’t you grasp Viracocha’s simple teaching?”
Pizarro’s eyes glazed. “Most of my men come from Andalusia. We are peasants. Your land and gold will make us noble. They persecuted us after the wars of the Inquisition. Your riches will buy us respect, status, and power.”
“Indeed, all lands are rich, but they remain rich only if their people live harmoniously with it. My people work with the land for everyone’s benefit, not for your exploits.”
“From now on, they work for us.”
“And if we refuse?”
Pizarro did not answer.
“So your salvation is in fact slavery.”
“That is what the Christian armies did to the Muslims and Jews of Andalusia when they liberated it. We are the Christian servants of our Christian conquerors. Now you become our servants.”
“Who are Muslims and Jews? Did they not believe in the Creator so that you had to make them Christians?”
“Oh, they had religions of their own, but in our land we permit only the religion of the Catholic Church. After we beat them, we forced the Muslims and Jews to convert or leave Spain. The Inquisition tortured or killed many.”
“So what you call your faith in the Creator,” Atahualpa responded angrily, “does not tolerate other faiths that believe in the Creator. People must follow your religion or die. You are followers and servants of Pachacamac. He has stolen your souls and blinded you with ignorance, hate, violence, and greed. Our worst fears have come true. I have subjected my people to slavery. You carry the insignia of Viracocha, but in truth you follow Pachacamac. You damned evil fools!”
Atahualpa rose to his feet abruptly and paced back and forth. Pizarro sat in silence until Atahualpa turned to him and said, “The ransom you demand, enough gold and silver to fill this room, will not secure the release of my people and your promised departure, will it?”
“No,” Pizarro said flatly, “it won’t. We will bring reinforcements, built strongholds, make alliances with rebellious tribes, and tighten our grip on your land and people.”
“I suspected that. My people believe their gold and silver ornaments and statues will get you to leave, as you falsely pledged. They think you are holding me hostage but that you will release me and leave with the loot. They trust you. They are complying because that is the safest way. How happy our enemies must be.”
“They believe our promises of freedom and independence from Inca rule. They resented the civil war between you and your half-brother Huascar, whom you killed. Many have betrayed you and allied themselves with us. They think we will give them independence if they help us defeat the Inca hordes. Fools.”
“Then you do not mean to honor any of your promises, much less fulfill their hopes?”
Pizarro smiled slyly. “Such are the ways of the world.”
“No. Such are the ways of the world as you make it. Viracocha taught us to strive for something far better. We must be different.”
Pizarro sighed. “Not in our lifetime. For so long as the flesh leads the soul, we shall languish in the domain of darkness.”
“You cannot let me live,” Atahualpa said. “You must destroy the pride and memory of our race and our ways. I appeal to the honor of this night of frankness. Can you at least tell our future generations of my honor and dedication to them?”
“Disculpe, Señor, that is out of my hands. The church will decide that. You will soon die, and the symbol of the Inca Empire will disappear. History will say you gave away your nation’s gold and its freedom to save your own head. My people will portray you as a selfish cowardly savage. We will deprive your future generations of their proud history. It will make conquering your land easier.”
“You are wrong!” Atahualpa rejoined. “The guardians of the temples and the sacred sites will never let our legacy die. They will preserve our ways and the wise teachings of Viracocha. They will save the secrets of our sacred sites from your evil grasp. You may take our gold and our land and enslave our people, but our legacy is ancient and runs far too deep. Some, maybe much of it, will surely survive for our children and their children. We have a duty to preserve the sacred instructions to be ready for Viracocha’s return and the coming of the sixth age. Your kind, evil disciples of Pachacamac, will never find them. A day will come when the world rediscovers the truth behind our magical civilization. The world will flock to our sacred sites and temples. They will stand in awe of our ancient monuments and relics, and the wisdom of our beliefs. They will yearn to follow the ways of peace and universal harmony. They will see the lost and stolen legacy of humanity as Viracocha wished it. In such future age, a few enlightened souls will reveal the sacred texts and instructions. Then they will prepare for the sixth age and the return of Viracocha. Time and history will bear witness.”
Pizarro did not answer.
Atahualpa looked at Pizarro sadly. “The reality of this world and the created universe is far beyond our imagination and under no one’s control.”
A sense of doom hung in the air.
Silicone spoke hesitantly. “We have only a few minutes before we return to our time.”
“I am ashamed of my involvement with these sad events,” Iron murmured.
“I wonder if these people can preserve any of their legacy, as Atahualpa hopes,” Gold mused.
“I investigated the masonry walls,” Calcium said. “I learned of caves and sites in the Andes with strange writings and symbols engraved in stone. Apparently, they come from an ancient era when the gods were here. Supposedly, some temples have hidden chambers that hold maps and coded information about such sites. Only a small group of trusted priests and guardians know of them.”
“If Pizarro is right,” Carbon said, “the dark forces at work here will soon destroy those relics of ancient wisdom.”
“That is if they can find them,” Calcium interjected. “According to what I was told, very few dedicated temple guardians have that information. Each one knows about only a small number of sites. Together they know about them all. They all belong to a secret brotherhood administered from Coricancha, the Temple of the Sun, in Cuzco.”
“The ancient gods’ instructions must be preserved for the benefit of humanity,” Hydrogen declared with its usual heroic enthusiasm. “You all heard it. Their teachings deal with the Source.”
“My friends,” Gold said, “I want to tell you something.”
Everyone focused on the newcomer. “These people associate my kind with their god Viracocha and his wise teachings. That is why they fashion statues and icons of their gods from gold. The Coricancha Temple of the Sun, which was built on the remains of even more ancient temples, is dedicated to preserving and promoting their gods’ teachings. Its roof and the walls are covered in gold. The Temple gardens display replicas of flowers, plants, trees and animals, made entirely of gold. The entire complex is designed to be in harmony with the sun. Our nature is to shine. When the sunlight falls on us, we reflect the sun. That is why the Coricancha Temple is so adorned with gold. The entire Temple shines like the sun’s terrestrial emissary. Its intense brilliance is visible from the mountains around Cuzco.”
“Interesting,” implying?”
“If as we conquistadors are after the gold here they will soon strip the Temple’s gold veneer and ornamentation. That will disrupt the sun’s shining reflection from the golden Coricancha, which the people watch every day from far away. They may see an omen, a message from the gods; or they may see the invaders’ true intentions. They will know that the Spanish invaders who defile the holy places of Viracocha cannot possibly be associated with Silicone said. “What are you
“True,” Silicone agreed. “That means they will hurry to safeguard their sacred tablets and secret sites before the Spanish find them. The Temple guardians may be able to save some of the relics entrusted to them. We still do not know the identity of Viracocha, but we can assume that his heritage needs to be protected.”
At that moment, Pizarro forcefully took the royal seal ring on Atahualpa’s index finger. Perhaps, Pizarro worried that instructions might be sent from the prison. Certainly, the gold in the ring was insignificant compared to what was soon to arrive as ransom. Pizarro left the room, followed by his Quechua interpreter. The sound of the locking heavy deadbolt reminded everyone who was now in charge of the Empire of the Sun.
“May Gold and I join you?” Iron asked. “If I may speak for both of us, tonight’s events have changed and inspired us forever.” Gold, who along with Iron had decided to remain with our friends within Atahualpa’s windowless stone prison, nodded in agreement.
Through the small ceiling vent perforation, the brightening dawn sky was now becoming visible. But, the room seemed much darker now. Was it the shadow of the dark forces that would now control this blessed land of the sun, or just the dimming lamps that were running out of oil?
Atahualpa, the Great Inca, sat helplessly. As tears flowed down his bronze-colored cheeks, he gazed sadly at the golden statue of Viracocha. The revered god appeared to be dying in the fading light of the oil lamps. Just then, an oil lamp, next to the golden god, briefly flickered with a very completely burning out. luminosity restored Viracocha’s full brilliant shine. The serene looking god, with his serpent-protruding helmet, still held out his reassuringly caring arms. Perhaps, a intense brightness before
The increased temporary reminder of the magnanimous god’s promised return to save his people, it inspired Atahualpa to faintly smile and close his tearful eyes.
A powerful flash of light followed he flicker of the dying oil lamp, delivering our friends back to their world.