Stormfront (Page 1 of 2)
On a mountain side in Mexico, a young Jacques climbs his way up to a previously undiscovered opening at El Tepozteco.
In front of a mysterious door, he places two flaming rocks, for weights, inside two serpent mouths. The doors open and he walks inside.
He explores inside this part of the temple, dodging a multitude of traps and danger until he encounters two armed men.
Anton: "Ay there, mang. Thanks for figuring out the door for us."
Jacques: "What the--? Since when are a bunch of drug-dealing thugs interested in ancient artifacts?"
Anton: "The drug business has been kind of slow lately, what with people moving toward healthy lifestyles and spinning-ninja taebo-- so we've been ordered into other illegal money-making ventures."
Jacques: "That is just so like the black-market to infringe on other industries without thinking about the economical consequences."
Serio: "We just do as we're told; most of the time in Spanish."
Jacques: "Then Spanish this, hombre-- vamanos."
Anton: "Wait, switching thought language-patterns.... Hey! He's telling us to leave!"
Serio: "That's a killing offense in our circle."
Anton: "Serio's right. We have to kill you now. It's nothing personal; just drug cartel standard procedure. Actually, there's a vote on policy change coming up next week."
They suddenly attack. After some effective fighting, Jacques escapes and continues his search. Soon, he finds what he's looking for: a codex (an ancient document).
He takes the codex, triggering a failsafe mechanism, which causes all the traps to spring at him. The men find him in passing and chase after. After an ordeal, he escapes the way he got in, relieved and out of breath. The two men remain trapped inside.
He then returns down the mountain to his class dig. Walking passed his other classmates, he approaches his in-field professor.
Charles: "You look like you've been through hell. Where were you?"
Jacques: "Tracking and finding an ancient pre-hispanic Aztec document."
Charles: "I hate to tell you this, but I was not even listening to you just now. You see, I am making a point by doing as such. The point is this-- Excavations aren't about talking or moving. Instead, they're about keeping our eyes on the sand!"
Jacques: "Doesn't that just give you tunnel-vision?"
Charles: "It gives you super-tunnel-vision! You see, you never know what you'll find if you focus your eyes harshly and with headache-strain. What is it we are even looking for? We don't even know! That's the painful-fun!"
He gets back to digging excitedly.
Later, on the plane back home, Jacques goes over the codex. On the page, it appears that something is being passed down through groups of people. In the final pic, the unknown object is next to a temple. Jacques is perplexed, but stares intently at the visuals.
Back home, Jacques makes his way to school. In ancient languages class, the teacher gives a long-winded lecture.
Stark: "And so you see, the Incans never wrote or drew iconography the conventional way, but instead tied knots into string in order to keep records."
Logan, raises hand: "Were the knots Blackwall hitched, or bowlined?"
Meanwhile, Jacques' cell phone vibrates and he picks it up.
Jacques: "Director Stevens. I'm so glad you were able to get back to me."
#Stevens: "Jacques, your previous contributions to the museum have been more than generous. I'm in my office, knee deep in a quickly rising water-level from a pipe burst this morning and I cancelled the plummer just so I could speak to you."
Jacques: "Well, actually, you should get that looked at immediately."
#Stevens: "Oh, hush. Your e-mail mentioned a codex of some kind?"
Jacques: "It's pre-Hispanic Aztec, which I found on my last trip into Mexico. I think the material is some kind of back-skin, possibly sweaty at one point. It's amazing, although I've been unable to decipher its significance."
#Stevens: "We've got highly educated lackeys to take care of that for us. These two-time university grads do nothing but get the museum staff coffee orders wrong all day."
Stark: "---Jacques! Unless you have some hidden knot-tying expertise to assist us with, I suggest you put your phone away. This is a class about languages, not a class about utilizing languages."
Logan, on the phone as well: "Yeah, my service provider is saying you're making a mockery of the classroom!"
He turns his attention back to his phone.
Logan: "Now, how much are out-of-country roaming charges? ... a fortune!?"
Later, Jacques meets his friend CJ on a field outside the school. He's directing three others in several forms of martial arts.
CJ: "Jacques, you're late."
Jacques: "Sorry buddy. I got held behind in languages class. Professor Stark decided to lecture me in ancient Greek. I had no idea what he was saying, but there sure were a lot of hand gestures."
CJ: "It could've also been Italian. Anyway, how was your overseas class trip?"
Jacques: "Better than you think. But on an unrelated note, I just dropped by to tell you I have a meeting at 2pm and I'll be missing another class this afternoon."
CJ: "Jacques, you're my best student in this student-run, non-credit course, but if you don't practice, you'll get rusty and careless."
Jacques, defensively: "I practice. At home, I sometimes punch out cans on a fence."
Tinco, walks over: "What is it about these school-excavation trips that makes you keep going on them every year?"
Jacques: "Dude, you already know I'm focusing on archeology. I discussed it with you during a chance encounter in the cafeteria."
Tinco: "Yeah, but you go on every single trip when only one's required. That's a bit excessive, isn't it?"
Jacques: "Pssh! Not as excessive as the amount of buried Nazi gold in Lake Toplitz, Austria."
Tinco: "What!? There is no evidence to back up that claim. If anything, it's more plausible he buried his gold somewhere remote like Auckland Island, off the coast of New Zealand!"
Jacques: "Nazi's are the worst."
Later, Jacques, the museum Director, and the in-school archeology professor all meet in the school's archeology office.
Stevens: "Truely fascinating. This is your best find yet."
Jacques, handing over the codex: "Way better than those worn-out Shoes of Vidar. Did the Norse gods walk through a patch of thorns everyday or something?"
Stevens: "I know, right! Well, I must be going. It's my policy to only have one agreeing reaction with a person a day."
He shakes his hand and then leaves. Meanwhile, the in-school archeology professor addresses Jacques.
Brommen: "Another archeological discovery, huh? I can remember a time you were finding lost pen caps in your napsack."
Jacques: "No, you don't get it, Professor; this is way bigger. Two weeks ago, a 6-point-2 richter-scale-Earthquake hit the central highlands of Mexico, removing a considerable amount of earth from a previously undiscovered pre-Aztec entrance--"
Brommen: "--Let me guess; and then you trespassed onto a newly unearthed, unexcavated site. The kind of site with that freshly new-ancient site smell."
Jacques: "Yes! And it was amazing! Through the locals, I only had a inkling of what I was looking for; but after being bombarded by traps in the new section of the temple-- and discovering a glow-in-the-dark mushroom species not native to that location-- I found a codex. I found Itzcoatl's last codex."
Brommen: "That's impossible. Itzcoatl burned all his historical documents before the end of his rein. There was nothing left?"
Jacques: "My find proves otherwise. I've proven he kept at least one codex, and then kept it safe from outsiders. This codex was so important, it was passed down through generation after generation."
Brommen: "Even if that were true, it still doesn't excuse the method you took in recovering it. I never taught you to behave like some kind of cowboy-tabacco-choking-treasure hunter."
Jacques: "That doesn't need to be taught. You kind of just pick it up as you go along."
Brommen: "Finding relics is more than just finding them - it's appreciating and understanding the culture that surrounds their discovery. You've taken a timeless science and turned it into a devitalized scavanger hunt."
Jacques: "There is too vitality in it! Besides, the museum always gets my finds. Greedy of them, to take all the glory, if you think about it."
Brommen: "Any more attempts at exploiting the in-field archeological trips and you will find yourself losing credits!"
A few days later, Jacques meets up with his friend, Quinn, at the school library. He takes a seat on a cushioned chair next to Quinn, who is at a table, typing away at his laptop.
Quinn, not even looking: "You look distracted."
Jacques: "Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just processing various encountered experiences and emotions."
He mindlessly flips through channels on a cieling-mounted tv, nearby.
Quinn: "I wish I had time for stuff like that, but I'm working on a huge Languages project for the department. I'm certain I've been typing at 120 words-per-minute for the past half-minute."
Jacques: "The Qwerty keyboard, or the Azerty keyboard?"
Quinn: "Qwertzu, actually. I guess all my hard work payed off, because they want me to decipher a stack of ancient Greek tablets."
Jacques: "Ah, those were found by the school just last year! Congratulations, Quinn. Archeological finds are certainly rare these days, and assigning them to you must mean you're their top student."
Suddenly, he stops flipping channels as a news program catches his attention.
>Gregs, reporter: "...and the damage to the museum is estimated around $10,000 dollars. But that's nothing compared to the priceless stolen Aztec document just put on display yesterday. The only object to be taken, last night..."
Quinn: "Yes, I certainly am great, and---"
Jacques: "--Holy crap! That can't be possible? Do thieves strike that quickly in this country??"
Quinn: "I guess thieves can do whatever they want. They're already breaking the law. I wouldn't imagine there was a grace period before a potential desired item."
He glances over as Jacques pulls out a photograph and shows Quinn a picture of the codex.
Jacques: "This is what was stolen from the museum last night-- it's an Aztec document, that I believe pre-dates the height of the empire."
Quinn: "Hmm. I did a thesis, last year, on Aztec iconography. I theorized that they broke a lot of utensils, and thus, never had many utencils."
Jacques: "--But, studying this document in particular, I've concluded these groups of people are newer generations from the last. One less older than the next!"
Quinn: "That would be consistent with the natural forward flow of time. They also seem to be passing a hidden object to each other, ending at this temple-- which, correct me if I'm wrong, is located at Teotihuacan."
Jacques: "Nah, I'm not sure what temple that is. I've been trying to decipher that for days. My calendar has been marked with nothing but red x's. The x's stand for failure."
Quinn: "No, no, this is definitely it, Jacques. This is that temple location. You can tell by the dead sun symbol next to it-- It's a symbol only found at Teotihuacan."
Jacques, to himself: "Teotihuacan? Could it actually be?"
Quinn: "If you think about it, whoever finds whatever these guys have been passing down, could potentially be making a great discovery. I'd even go as far as to exclaim some kind slang-like phrasing, if an applicable one would come to mind. Nothing yet, though."
Jacques: "You know what, Quinn. I just remembered I left my laundry in the bathtub. Also, my stove is unlocked, and I left my door on hot. Let's catch up again next time I need to divert serious personal issues away from my brain."
He backs away and then turns and leaves quickly.
Later, Jacques walks into the busy airport, struggling to drag his heavy suitcase.
Jacques: "UUgGGgghh! Why don't I ever unpack after my trips?? I can't just keep adding clothes to this."
He suddenly bumps into a group of men wearing suits, and he falls to the floor. The leader of this group is arguing with airport secuirty.
Keukin: "For the last time, these are not weapons; they're climbing equipment for any unplanned climbing situations. It is your duty to let us on this plane."
Craig: "I don't like you're attitude, mister-- which is just the right amount of conflict for me to escalate this argument to upper security."
Keukin: "There's a security level above yours? Why not just have one level for the whole airport?"
Craig: "We realized many of us had differing qualifications and availabilities, so this was the best solution, and actually came with many benefits and incentives."
Keukin: "What a complete waste of resources. If this place is an airport, then your credibility is flying out the window!"
As they continue; Jacques, still on the floor, recovers his head. He notices his baggage has spilled with the other group's baggage and he quickly cleans up his own stuff, unknowingly taking a handheld piece of their equipment.
He reaches the ticket counter and addresses the lady behind the desk.
Jacques: "One ticket to MEX, please, and spare no expense on the dried fruit."
Cassandra: "Would you like to sit in second class, or third? Unfortunately, first has been reserved for a group of overweight, rich tycoons."
Jacques: "Fourth, if you have it."
As he's pulling out his wallet, Quinn walks up right next to him, also with a suitcase.
Quinn: "For far too long have the guys and I speculated on your obsession with these trips of yours. So, I've decided that if you won't tell us what's going on, I'm coming with you."
Jacques: "Great Gatsby's ghost!"
Quinn: "And don't try to stop me. I've already made up my mind using Korean War mind control techniques."
Jacques: "Those were meant to persuade American soldiers into communism! Besides, if you want to know what I'm up to, just listen to the FAQ section on my voicemail. It explains my whole cover story. Minute 7, if I recall correctly."
Cassandra: "Sorry to interrupt-- but buy your tickets now, and we'll throw in a pillow made of pure Tibetian silk, traded for mere tea during the Han dynasty."
Jacques: "Sold!"
But Quinn just looks at him, disapprovingly.
Jacques: "Oh, uh, make that for two. --But no picking your teeth with toothpicks, Quinn! I always find that so annoying."
Quinn: "Well, give me a sec to unload my surplus."
He starts emptying a side bag into the trash.
Jacques: "I'll take care of the tickets. I still have my student travel card which they give to us specifically for purchasing these things."
Quinn: "But I thought you were only allowed to use those for school trips?"
Jacques: "Relax. The school won't get their bank statement for another month. And how long is a month from now? Like, an eternity, if you think about it scientifically."
He hands his card over to the lady.
Jacques: "I'll take a pack of cigarettes too."
Quinn just looks at him, shocked.
Jacques: "What? Smoking was commonplace during the Ottoman Empire."
On the plane, as its in flight, Jacques and Quinn sit next to each other. Quinn writes away on lined paper.
Quinn: "I can't believe what we're doing, Jacques. This is crazy!?"
Jacques: "Are you going to be commenting the whole trip? Because that's going to create a very intolerable dynamic between the two of us."
Quinn: "Never mind. I guess I'll just preoccupy myself with these translations. I can phone in my progress with the school using the on-board satellite phone.”
Jacques: “I miss the relay stations of ancient China and Egypt. Especially the Silk road. –Anyway, wake me if we hit a pocket of rapid variation of pressure and velocity."
He turns and sleeps on his new silk pillow. Meanwhile, Quinn calls the school from the satellite phone.
>Max: "Hey Quinn. Are you on a plane or something? Your background surroundings sound different than what I had anticipated-- which, I imagined to be mostly library books and socially-inept anti-socialites."
Quinn: "I'm following Jacques around the world to one of his so-called 'excavations'."
>Max: "Ah. Twenty bucks says he spends the total sums of these trips on a white-sandy beach, eating French bon-bons and drinking pina coladas."
Quinn: "Either that, or he's boat cruising with fiesta trumpet-players and mariachi bands."
>Max: "So, basically, you're on vacation. How are your translations going?"
Quinn: "Pretty good. I'm working off the in-depth scans we took, and am on the third last one. What an amazing opportunity for me. Yeah. High five. Woo."
>Max: "I hate to be the conveyor of bad news, my friend, but I was just about to call to tell you that you have to step up your game on this, as it turns out, the university liaison to our overly-funded archeology program is coming sooner than expected."
Quinn: "The program that ridiculously funds our trips, extensive fields of study and preservations of priceless relics??"
>Max: "Yep. And, as with every year, if the liaison doesn't like what he sees, in terms of student results, he could cut university funding."
Quinn: "Well, I can handle sooner than expected, depending on the defining increment for sooner than expected in this context."
>Max: "Tomorrow! And your project is the main focus of the preliminary presentation."
Quinn: "Knights of Columbus on high! What's this liaison's deal anyway? You know what, never mind. He's been weighing on my nerves for the last four seconds already and the sooner we complete these translations, the sooner I'll be done with him."
>Max: "Perfect! In the meantime, I'll be shredding the department's expensed lunch receipts. A lot of them were being used as bookmarks."
He hangs up. Jacques rustles, half awake, from his nap.
Jacques: "...Uugh. Huh. Hey, what did Max have to say?"
Quinn: "Oh, um, nothing-- nothing at all. He was just telling me about some of the thumb strain the ancient Romans used to get over the grading of people being eaten alive."
Jacques: "Damn those Romans! Always so arrogant with their leaf-tiaras!"
The plane lands and the two make their way to Teotihuacan. The area is dusty, old, empty and unimpressive.
Quinn: "Wait. Where are the white sandy beaches? The pina coladas and the mariachi bands??"
Jacques: "Don't be an unrung Sunday bell-- I just made that up by the way-- no religious context intended. I'm here for that find. The sooner we get to it, the less likely it'll fall into unwanted hands."
Suddenly, they accidentally approach a skinny old tourism host, standing behind a wooden stand.
Gnarls: "Welcome to the unclaimed wonder of the ancient world! Admission 400 pesos, rocks 100 pesos, unfiltered water 200 pesos, other pointless junk 50 pesos."
Quinn: "But you're just some guy? And those prices are ridiculous!"
Jacques: "Most ancient sites are commercialized, grubstaking tourism for financial profit and ire."
Quinn: "What do we do?"
He suddenly notices a rock on the table and picks one up to examine.
Jacques: "Hey, wait a second. Do these rocks contain gadolinium, a rare earth element used in magnets, lasers and computers?"
The host steals the rock back and then collects the others in his arms.
Gnarls: "What? Give me those. They're mine! Hahahaha! I'm going to be rich! So long suckers!"
He runs off in excitement. Jacques and Quinn glance at each other and shrug. Jacques then walks on, with Quinn following after.
Quinn: "Fascinating. The pyramid layout seems to scale like the planets of our solar system."
Jacques: "I had pancakes that did that once. They were delicious."
They walk quickly passed several ancient Aztec structures until they realize a group of suited individuals are walking outside the structures, as well, at the same pace.
Quinn: "Are we expecting company?"
The two stop, just as the suits step out and surround them.
Keukin: "If you were expecting to die, then, yes, you do have company; but it's more of that death-bringing kind of company."
Jacques: "First the drug cartel, now a group of business people? This is antiquities, not an addiction symposium."
Keukin: "We're a crime syndicate, for your information, and our interest in antiquities stems from the recent aquisition of this really, really old document."
He takes out the stolen page from his inside-blazer pocket.
Jacques: "Itzcoatl's last codex! So it was you that cost the Museum all that damage!"
Keukin: "Well, we did accidentally knock over a string of 14th century Knights Templar armour. But if you think you'll be moving forward with your intentions here, reorganize your synaptic pathways, now."
Quinn: "Don't listen to him, Jacques. We should call the Mexican authorities at this very minute. They may have dusty old jail cells which are bad for your lungs, but I hear the meals are as good as 4-star hotels."
Jacques reaches into his satchel in search of his phone, pulls out the piece of equipment he accidentally took from the syndicate earlier, and looks at it inquisitively.
Keukin: "So, it was YOU that stole our pressure-powered grappling hook??"
Jacques: "I think I accidentally picked it up when I bumped into you guys at the airport. Sorry?"
Keukin: "Our in-field equipment is manufactured by our many illegal factories and are not to be used as conduits of apology!! ---Tagasaki!"
Tagasaki: "Yes, Keukin-san?"
Keukin: "Make these two an offer they can't unstab from."
A bunch of syndicate members pull out short swords and move in. Jacques begins fighting the whole group off, deflecting swipes and knocking suits into others. He dodges all the leathal attacks and triple-punches one bad guy after another, until they're all down.
Quinn watches in shock and confusion as Jacques signals Quinn to follow. They make a run until reaching a covered-excavated spot.
Quinn: "What just happened?"
Jacques, lifts the tarp: "We were attacked and now we have to get under the Temple of the Sun before they do."
Quinn: "Are you kidding me? We should be running for our lives! Most people don't survive crime syndicates. And those that do wish they didn't!"
They climb down a large dig, and into an underworld of tunnels.
Jacques: "There certainly does seem to be an increased interest of the antiquities trade industry these days. I wonder if it's all the materialism?"
He flashes his light around, as they walk through the tunnels. They turn down a yellow-taped off tunnel. They approach a wall with skulls embedded into it.
Quinn: "Speaking of material, our lives have somehow suddenly become immaterial. We have to get out of here. Those suit-stitchers are going to be looking for us."
Jacques: "We have to something, but get out of here is the complete opposite! Help me locate a symbol, or any clue, anything, that connects this place to Izcoatl's last codex."
Quinn: "Dammit, Jacques! Since when did the Aztec's even dig underground anyway?"
Jacques: "Since who knows what they did before the Spaniards distorted their historical records. I bet the shovels of the past were something to be in awe about."
He suddenly locates a skull with long stones punctured into it in the form of a circle, or sun.
Quinn: "Wait. That looks like the dead sun symbol from the codex."
Jacques places his hand on it and applies pressure, moving it in slightly. Suddenly, there's a rumble and a portion of the skull-wall folds outward, creating an opening into an unlit corridor.
Jacques: "It’s definitely a dead something—ringer, probably."
The floor is tiled with skull faces. Jacques steps on a pressure-sensitive face, triggering a giant spear to fly out at him. Jacques instinctively leans back, allowing it to almost graze him. The spear slams into the opposite tunnel wall.
Quinn: "If you’re talking bells, then, definitely, they toll for us.”
Despite the setback, Jacques decides to move on. He recognizes the very few skull faces with the long stones punctured around their heads and experiments by stepping on one of them. Nothing happens, so, these are the safe tiles.
Jacques: "Step on the dead sun faces ONLY."
Reluctantly following Jacques, both Quinn and Jacques reach the end of the skull face tiles at the turn of the tunnel. The ground is normal at this turn.
The second length appears to be nothing but skull-faced tiles buried in the floor, walls and cieling. An over abundance of spears have pierced dead bodies throughout the length of the tunnel.
A dead body, holding a collection of dead sun long stones, lies just before them.
Quinn: "So, which skulls are the safe skulls?"
Jacques jumps up and hangs onto one of the spears, pierced into the ceiling. He hangs and jumps to the next spear, using them to keep from touching any of the skull-tiles.
Jacques: "Follow my lead. If I'm right, years of failed wayfaring have suddenly annulled any need for the safe skulls."
Quinn watches for a moment and then decides it'd be safer to stick with Jacques. He leaps onto the spear, following Jacques' moves.
Quinn: "So what exactly do you think this primitive culture was passing down to each other?"
He slips and almost falls, but grips tight to save himself. He then continues on, climbing and jumping from pole to pole.
Jacques: "Considering their cultural focus, I believe they were transferring something of religious significance, like a jade sculpture, or perhaps a beloved cacao bean."
He makes it to the end and jumps onto safe dirt-ground, beyond the skulls. Quinn steps on the end of a spear, but his weight snaps it-- forcing him to grab onto another nearby spear to save himself again. His heart races in fear, but he's safe.
Quinn: "I'm sure that was just one of their focuses. They were also very concentrated on expanding their empire and wearing loin cloths."
He finally makes to the end, exhausted and shocked.
Jacques: "Ah, but loin cloths are far from sacred-- depending on your modesty level."
He stops.
Jacques: "Great googly moogly!"
Quinn: "What? Is it the tomb of a Totonac ruler?"
Jacques: "Less diametery; more surface-y-ery."
At the very end of the tunnel they are presented with a wall, decorated with Aztec painting.
They don't have much time to read it as sounds of approaching people are heard in the distance behind them.
Jacques: "Quinn, what does it say? Hurry!"
Quinn: "These symbols seem to indicate a different location of some kind. It's talking about another temple."
Jacques: "You actually hurried. Thanks, bro."
Suddenly, a group of seven drug cartel thugs step out from the turn in the tunnel in the distance. They eye Jacques and Quinn, seriously.
-Cruz: "Enough of all this appreciating. That find belongs to me; the guy you're talking to right now!"
Jacques: "So, you're the cartel leader, eh? I can tell by the smugness in your demeanour, and by the narcissistic personality you posses."
-Cruz: "Yes. I know. I am quite sufficiently smug; and, speaking of myself, I've brought the two men you were so kind enough to leave buried at El Tepozteco."
-Serio: "We dug ourselves out using ejected trap materials and flat stoned rocks."
-Anton: "For causing us simultaneus discomfort and unpleasantness, we've decided that we are going to acquiesce vengeance UPON YOUR SOUL!"
Jacques: "If your plan was to stupid me to death, then you've pretty much stitched the checkered flag."
-Serio: "Wait. What language is he making us speak in?"
-Anton: "I believe it's English; North American, to be exact."
-Serio: "¡Ay, Dios mío, times ten!! Make them sad, now!"
They advance, and one of the thugs tries stepping on one of the skull-faces, but is impaled by the resulting triggered-spear. Hesitant, but determined, the others begin climbing the other spears.
Jacques: "Quinn, read me the rest of that wall. I'll take care of the cartel."
He leaps onto the spears as well and begins moving back in the cartel's direction.
The remaining cartel raise their firearms, but are stopped by their leader.
Cruz: "No! You'll hit the painted wall and destroy the pictographs!"
Meanwhile, Quinn reluctantly takes a closer look at the wall with all the commotion going on.
Quinn: "Um, it looks like... another emperor moved some kind of powerful jewel to a different temple. I'm not sure which emperor it was, but he was the fifth down the line and seems to have some short guy hanging over his head."
Jacques reaches the other cartel members and begins fighting them while hanging on to the spears.
Jacques: "It sounds like it's Ahuitzotl. A jewel? Where did he move it to?"
Quinn: "A hidden chamber, like this, under the Temple of Quezecoatl."
One of the thugs knocks Jacques off a spear, but Jacques grabs another spear in a vulnerable spot, surrounded by thugs. He then snaps a nearby spear off and jabs it into a skull-tile. Another spear springs out and impales one of the thugs.
Jacques: "Perfect! That temple is right here in Teotihuacan. Let's head over there, all pronto-like and such."
He punches and kicks the remaining guys off the spears. They fall onto the skull-tiles below and are impaled.
Quinn: "Wait a sec. These markings are also showing a key-symbol. It appears to be required to gain access to the chamber."
-Keukin: "Sounds like it's back to the bread-line for you."
Suddenly, a group of suits turn the corner, join the cartel, and hold short swords up at Jacques. Jacques is defeated, so he descends from the spears to their side.
Keukin: "Your Southern Fist looks interesting. But it lacks the proper force."
Jacques: "What kind of well dressed gang criticizes peoples fighting styles again?"
Keukin: "We're a crime syndicate; Yakuza to be exact. We're the kind of crime syndicate that breaks the law in an efficient and organized manner-- to impress women, of course."
Jacques: "But your style of doing things is nothing like your Japanese origins, and neither is your prevalent use of the english language??"
Keukin: "This specific grouping was designed with diversified skills to accommodate international endeavors."
Jacques: "Gatenhimmel?! Is what you just said even a thing?"
Keukin: "How can it not be a thing if it's already happened? It’s consistent with aging, obviously."
Cruz: "Enough of this. He has briefed you on his backstory. Now, tell us where the key to the chamber under the Temple of Quezecoatl is."
Jacques: "Pssh. You're in no position to be giving me orders. Book 'em Yakuza-Danno!"
Keukin: "We're WORKING with them."
Jacques: "WTF?? Now I need an explanation for that!? You guys are really being rude by just blurting things out randomly for no reason whatsoever."
Keukin: "Talking too much is one of the few perks we antagonists get, so don't ruin it for us. Now, if you'll excuse me, but I must put a sword to your throat."
Suddenly, Keukin pulls out his sword and holds it under Jacques' throat.
Keukin, speaking to Quinn: "You, there! Give us the key location, NOW, or this archeologist-hack bites Aztec dust."
-Quinn: "Since I like you so much, I'm going to see what I can do."
He eyes the drawings on the wall with sudden, intense focus.
-Quinn: "I believe it's saying the key is in an offering to an exaggeratedly-dressed man of rain through an exaggeratedly-dressed man of wind."
Jacques: "Those are deities. The god of rain was Tlaloc, and the god of wind was Ehecoatl."
Cruz: "Prisoners aren't supposed to talk!"
Jacques: "One of your guys said I could, for the vocal practice."
A cartel guy, pulling a spear out of his side, waves in acknowledgement. Cruz angrily shoots the guy in the shoulder.
Keukin: "Enough of this non-computerized god database! We have demolition equipment that will supersede the need for a key."
Cruz: "The key is the only way to get to the find, no matter what you try! Blowing the entrance to Quezecoatl would risk losing the chamber all together. I never knew you Yakuza types could be so barbaric?"
Keukin: "At least we don't pepper our drug products with donut powder."
Cruz: "It's a marketing technique. Have your drugs with pastries! We're still working the kinks out."
Jacques: "Speaking of out; it was nice meeting you all; Quinn and I have charter bus tickets, and they're serving tequila-infused taquitos the whole way back."
Cruz: "Parada, foolish-treasure hunter. You're going to help us find this key, or die. You see, I will not risk anything to lose this opportunity."
Jacques: "Dammit! This is exactly why I need sulfur-based projectile weapons!"
Back home, Max enters the school archeology office and meets up with the archeology professor.
Max: "Sorry I'm late, professor. I was just writing a cultural anthropology thesis on the controversy surrounding the ethnic origins of the ancient Egyptians."
Brommen: "What did you conclude?"
Max: "That any conclusion is a present-day cultural controversy in itself."
Brommen: "Remind me not to ask you questions anymore. Anyway, thank you for agreeing to chaperone the university liason during his visit here. It turns out I have to compete in a paper grading contest in the teacher's lounge. The winner gets a week's supply of churros."
He leaves out the back door, and moments later there's a knock at the front door. Max opens it to find the university liason.
Hitomi: "Yes, hello. It's a pleasure meeting me, I'm sure. So, this is the archeology department that is getting all our ridculous money, eh?"
Max: "I assure you, sir, the program is advancing students in all fields of history, religion, geology and ancient Scottish highland dancing."
Hitomi: "The dancing I like! But the rest I don't see a need in additional funding, as students will continue those paths in university anyway."
Max: "Early development is the advantage, and the taste for multi-layered dry-erase boards instead of single-panelled chalk helps too."
Hitomi: "We stack giant flat screen monitors! Never mind. Sorry. I've been having my house interior corduroyed this week and it's been nothing but a nightmare."
As the dawn of the next day has passed, Jacques and Quinn find themselves prisoners, in the back of a sitting army truck (outside Teotihuacan). They are surrounded by cartel guys with guns.
Quinn, working on his translation: "Well, great. We're officially in trouble, Jacques. Does this happen to you a lot?"
Jacques: "Sometimes. But usually a screaming hobo creates a distraction for me."
They both look out the back, but nothing happens.
Cruz: "We knew to sweep the place for hobos, thanks to our subscription to Drug Cartel Magazine! The magazine with tips and tricks on how best to conduct drug business. This month-- keeping your prisoners in check."
Jacques: "Speaking of talking, how do you expect us to know what to do next?"
Cruz: "Ahuitzotl's wall said the key was in an offering to Ehcoatl through Tlaloc. I'm thinking an offering could mean an altar."
Jacques: "Hm. That actually makes sense. But there are altars to him in ancient ruins all throughout Mexico?"
Quinn: "That's like looking for a needle in some kind of a haystack!"
Cruz: "It's still doable! I intend on examining all these locations, then possibly do some yoga after. It's hard to tell at this point."
Jacques: "What's your deal, anyway?"
Cruz: "Your attempt to analogize me with card junkies is pointless. I'm after this find for personal reasons, and personal reasons alone!"
Jacques: "Did you devote your life to stolen antiquities? Was your father a renowned archeologist? Did you read Sir H. Rider Haggard's King Solomon's Mines and get hooked?"
Cruz: "None of those things! One of our people went missing on this journey, and I intend on finding out what was so important to them. Also, though they don't know it, the Yakuza serves as an assist to our goals, and now, so do you."
Jacques: "Are you really so self-diluted, that you think you're actually the one in control here??"
Cruz: "If that is an attempt to preach whatever kooky faith you follow, to me, then you have failed! But please tell me more."
Hours later, Jacques and Quinn are escorted into a subway station labelled Metro Pino Suárez, in Mexico city. They are exhausted and worn out.
Quinn: "We've been searching through ancient locations all day; from the Temple of Ehecatl to Calixtlahuaca."
Jacques: "Yeah. You know, if you guys wanted to kill us now, I wouldn't be so against it."
Keukin: "Well, finally; a group of self-conclusive prisoners!"
Quinn: "--Wait! I take back my previous frustrations. I think I found something."
They look over to see that Quinn has been examining a circular structure in the middle of the subway. Both Jacques and Cruz step over the barrier and approach.
The subway operator suddenly takes notice of all this tresspassing.
Carven: "Wait a minute. People aren't allowed to cross those barriers! My supervisor told me this morning."
Keukin: "Perhaps this will avert your surveillance?"
He reaches into his bag of equipment and pulls out his sword at Carven's throat.
Carven: "Um. Not really, since that increases my concerns."
As they continue talking, the others continue examining the altar. Quinn feels under one of the shelves.
Quinn: "I think there's some kind of embossed surface under this ledge?"
Jacques: "That's impossible! You lie, Quinn. You're a dirty liar and a thief."
He places his hand under the altar's ledge, where Quinn had found something, and presses the embossed under-surface. The surface depresses, like a button. Four cascading shelves emerge from around all sides of the structure.
Cruz: "You fools know nothing of thievery. Anyway, what is going on here? There must be some kind of internal mechanism in this altar."
They examine the cascading shelves, each one with a bevelled circle with hollowed-out holes inside. They appear like small cups. Inside each circle is water.
Jacques: "You're right. Also, I believe these circles seem to resemble the eyes of Tlaloc. It's as if each one is an eye."
Cruz: "Creepy, some would say. I, on the other hand, recall that Tlaloc's eyes have never been seperated like this in any other Mesoamerican structure before."
Jacques: "This is probably the tribute to Tlaloc that Ahuitzotl's wall so cryptically mentioned."
Quinn: "The water inside those things must be from the rain. This whole area is open to the sky. Thus, I conclude that rain comes from the sky."
Jacques: "Is that how you write all your theses'? You might as well write one plus one equals two."
Quinn: "Actually, I'm writing one that proves that that equals eleven."
Cruz: "No school talk! We drug dealers are the opposite of school. In fact, we burn a lot of them down in our spare time. Besides, these eyes are probably always full of water, being trapped inside that altar."
Jacques: "It's highly irregular for an altar to have a seperate tribute, but, you know, this setup reminds me of the mythology behind Tlaloc."
Quinn: "¡Ay, Dios míos!"
Jacques: "He was said to hold four jars of water, each one with a special property. When he emptied or broke the first one, he created the rain; but the others presented certain doom."
Cruz: "Yes, there was a similar setup in Tlaloc's shrine at Tenochitlan. They used pitchers in the same way."
Quinn: "So, excusing my previous torrets-like lapse, are these any bad kind of doom?"
Jacques, thinks: "According to the mythology, if the second broke, it'd cause disease; the third, frost; and, finally, the fourth would bring complete destruction."
Quinn: "Wait. Are you saying we're supposed to break one of these eyes??"
Cruz: "Yes, he is! And we have to make sure we break the correct eye, or we'll be answering to Tezcatlipoca for our sins."
Quinn: "That process would demand a thorough, personal faith-structure based on deity-worship and ritual."
Cruz: "No, it doesn't. The action of taking action would be the same despite any faith. It's the perspective that differs!"
He picks up a nearby rock and hovers over the Tlaloc eyes.
Cruz: "So, any thoughts on which I should break? Or is this what you norther North Americans call an 'eenie-meenie-miny-moe' situation?"
Jacques: "Wait, we need to examine this more!"
Cruz: "We've been examining things all day. Any more oogling and I'll be ready to pull my own eyes out. Now, speaking of destroying eyes, tell me what to do, fast, or I'll choose one myself."
Jacques: "You know, rushed actions can often be percieved as a result of an acute attention deficit disorder-- not unlike its hyperactive friend, ADHD."
Cruz: "I was tested when I was five! Either we get this right, now, or we all die here, together. This is very important to me for personal reasons."
Jacques: "Fine. Dammit, Quinn! These 'eyes' are accompanied by symbols. Any ideas on their meaning?"
Quinn, examining quickly: "Um, well, this symbol looks like water, this one, rain, this one, motion, and this one... death."
Jacques: "So, we either break the water one, or the rain. The other two sound like obvious dead-ringers."
Quinn: "When you say dead, you don't mean the opposite of living, do you?"
Jacques: "That's one of many of my possible meanings, yes."
Cruz: "Enough of this! Tlaloc was the god of rain, so it is obvious that the eye with the rain symbol is what we go for."
He jams the rock into the cascading shelf with the rain symbol, smashing the eye and spilling the previously-contained water! Suddenly, the altar and the ground begins to shake.
Quinn: "Amazing..."
Jacques: "Hey Quinn, what are you doing?"
Quinn: "Admiring the internal stone engineering of the ancient Aztecs, or possibly the Toltecs."
Jacques: "Or is it even engineering at all? Nevermind. I'm not sure where I was going with that. But, speaking of things occurring right now-- You took those martial arts courses with our buddy, CJ, too, right?"
Quinn: "Yeah. I did them mostly as a cultural study. Also, the donuts during breaks were satisfying."
Jacques: "Well, I think it's time you turned study into application."
Quinn: "That's a little cryptic? I guess you're going to want me to decipher that now, too?"
Suddenly, a rock-tube emerges from the top of the altar, providing them with an Aztec calendar.
Jacques: "Quinn, forget what I said and listen to what I found. --A thing!"
The rumbling stops as he quickly grabs the calendar and force-palms Cruz in the chest. Cruz goes flying back onto the ground. The rock-tubes revert back into the altar.
Suddenly, all the Yakuza pull out their swords, and the cartel open fire at Jacques! The bullets hit the side of the altar. Quinn dives behind the altar as Jacques runs up to the cartel guy, Anton, diverting around his gun and multi-punching him into an other.
The bullets from the falling cartel smash one of the cascading shelves, causing the ground to rumble even more and blast large spurts of water out of the ground. Quinn is knocked into the sky, through the opening, and onto the street level above.
Keukin: "This is impossible! No subway station anywhere can do a thing this!?"
Jacques remembers his grappling hook, pulls it out and wrap-extends it around Keukin's arm as Keukin is thrusting his sword. He releases Keukin and launches the grappling hook into Keukin's chest.
Keukin is sent off the altar and into a bunch of cartel guys, including Cruz, who are trying to pick up their guns.
Tagasaki, stands atop a nearby fare-booth, calmly: "Well, this does not please the Yakuza at all. Rest assured, your death will be scheduled within our vast database."
Jacques presses the trigger and pulls the grappling hook back, pulling Keukin back passed the altar, over Jacques' head and into the opposite wall.
Jacques: "Okay, fine. But explain to me this-- Why are you guys so westernized and so liberal with the English language? That's the opposite of Yakuza?"
Tagaski: "Our specific family is an anomalous deviation from the norm. Some of us have been severely influenced by western culture since we moved here."
Jacques: "Shoe-shinin ragamuffins!"
They fire at him, prompting Jacques to retract the hook and fire it over into a street light, above. He pulls himself out and onto the street with Quinn as the entire subway floods in bursting-water chaos behind them.
Cruz, floating on top his own people: "Uggh! You see? This is what happens when you anger the Gods! I'm not crazy! Don't look at me like that!"
A large plume of water bursts out of the open subway, sending badguys raining onto the streets. Jacques and Quinn watch all around until the plume subsides. As badguys are left in pain, trying to get up, they both decide to make a run for it.
Later, Jacques and Quinn enter their hotel room and shut the door behind themselves in exhaustion.
Quinn: "Where did all that water come from? More importantly; we could've been killed!"
Jacques: "It's just water, a molecule containing one oxygen and two hydrogen atoms connected by covalent bonds. Besides, maybe if those hack-slacks were any kind of a challenge I'd have given them a second thought. Hense-passed, thinking is over-rated."
Quinn: "Oh yeah? Well, I think you wanted us to stay captured. I can see right through that non-spear-shot skull of yours. Some twisted part of you was using the cartel to get to the next relic!"
Jacques: "Everyone uses everyone and everything in this business. The danger is just a by-product of the constant using."
He takes out a book and flips through its empty pages.
Quinn: "Is that the hotel guestbook?"
Jacques: "More danger."
Suddenly, Quinn's phone rings. Quinn pulls it out of his bag and opens it to find Max on the line.
#Max: "Quinn! I've been trying to contact you for hours. Do you have any idea what I've been going through? The university liaison has been making all kinds of demands, from leaving him alone to providing him with some much needed quiet time!"
Quinn: "Now's not good, Max. We just got back from being hostages and my email inbox is overflowing with bolded subject lines."
#Max: "Forget it. They're are all from me!"
Quinn, reading the computer: "You're 'Lonely and Looking'?"
Max: "That was meant for someone else."
Jacques: "Wait. Quinn? Is that the phone from the airplane?"
Quinn: "What the--? This is what happens when you don't metal detect during Arrivals."
#Max: "--Would you two forget the buddy-cop banter? My crisis of heightened failure is at hand. Despite my personal feelings, we have to make sure we impress the Liason with this presentation. Quinn, you've got to give me an update on how things are going with the translations."
Quinn: "---ushShay! ixNay onway ethay esentationpray."
Jacques: "Quinn, something's wrong with your latin? --Wait. The presentation for the university liason is this week and you didn't tell me??"
Quinn: "It was more like I tried keeping it from you and you found out anyway. Just now, to be exact."
Jacques: "How could you do this, Quinn?? That whole event is a pivot for archeology funding. We need it to continue the program! More importantly, I need it."
Quinn: "That's exactly the thing, Jacques-- At first, I didn't say anything so I could find out what was going on with you. But now I realize you're using the program for your own selfish desires."
Jacques: "Yeah, but I'm completely justified as these discoveries benefit the historical community."
Quinn: "Oh, you're benefitting alright; by almost becoming history yourself! Not only are you breaking the rules, but you're recklessly partaking in a complex plot of varied-pursuants!"
Jacques: "As a provisional representative of the historical community, I must say that we are disappointed in your attitude, Quinn. Very disappointed."
Quinn: "Screw them! It's time to end this madness before this madness ends us. I'm leaving for the airport. If you need me, I'll be at the concession stand. Because, since I can't ingest this, I'm going to need a snack!"
He picks up his things and laptop, and leaves the room.
Later, Jacques sits outside, in public, at an outdoor cafe, with the calendar. His journal sits next to it, untouched, with just an outline of the calendar.
Eve, approaches: "You look distracted."
Jacques: "Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just cerebrally sorting various encountered occurrences and sentiments."
He turns the layers inside the calendar, effortlessly.
Eve: "You going to waste your time with the past, or you going to finish that pre-Columbian Aztec calendar puzzle with unconventional pictographs in its centre?"
Jacques, looks in surprise: "Cheese and rice!"
Eve, sits: "And if you look here, closely, they appear to be symbols indicating a temple of some kind."
Jacques: "Wait. Everything's all catawampus up in this cafe. How do you know about this stuff? I thought only old people with tasseled bookmarks and glasses they call spectacles studied history?"
Eve: "Actually, I did study ancient civilizations and languages in my third year; mostly to avoid the boys in an astronomy class that focused on stars older than the Earth itself."
Jacques: "Yeah, there's a limit to how far back I research, and I draw it at billions of years BC."
Eve: "Sufficed to say, there were many an hour spent recovering from paper cuts from flipping through books."
Jacques: "Well, no one who knows the dangers of page handling could be all that bad. Allow myself to introduce the person who's introducing himself right now-- me; and I'm Jacques."
Eve: "Like the French diver? I appreciate his underwater ambitions. In response to your introduction, I'm Eve."
Jacques: "Like the apple fanatic. She's mythical to some, real to others. Nice to meet you."
Eve: "Enough of that! Take a look at these pictographs in the centre. They circle this conch-like symbol in the middle, which is radically unlike the Aztec sun stone from El Zócalo."
Jacques: "Yeah, you're right. This stone must've been constructed by Ahuitzotl."
Eve: "That guy who built another layer over the temple Templo Mayor, like it was some kind of special cake?"
Jacques: "Exactly. --It goes like this; First, the emperor Itzcoatl creates a codex detailing a jewel of some kind; second, the emperors after him use the codex to document the jewel's passage through lineage; until, third, Ahuitzotl gets the jewel and hides it for reasons unknown."
Eve: "I think the reasoning behind concealing it answers its own question, like the way a circle is an angry, wannabe-paradox. Answer; jewels are valuable."
Jacques: "But what's the significance behind this one? Why haven't we ever heard about it in history? And where is my waiter with the bill??"
Eve: "It's right here. Anyway, back to this; Maybe we have heard of it in history. Take a look at the iconography at the centre of this calendar."
Jacques: "This one looks like tlalticpac-- the rugged earth, and this looks like maguey, a plant that grows here in Mexico."
Eve: "And then there's this..."
She points to the centre of the calendar, where a single conch-like symbol lies.
Eve: "The ehecacozcatl symbol appears right under the temple and rugged earth symbols. It's the most prominent one of them all. Jacques, where'd you get this calendar?"
Jacques: "It came from a 500 year old sacrificial altar to Ehecatl, inside a metropolitan subway station. For some reason, on Ehecatl's altar, there was a tribute to Tlaloc. When we accessed it, the calendar ejected. Then there was this plumbing issue--"
Eve: "Stop. You're bringing up more questions than answers. Let's just breeze on."
Jacques: "Knickerbockers! Did you just conveniently say 'breeze'? Ehecatl was the god of wind, and he used a wind jewel to control the elements. Maybe the Aztec's had something they emblematized as Ehecatl's wind jewel."
Eve: "If they thought it was sacred, then that would explain why they protected it so intricately. Over-zealous farmers treat their tomatoes the same way. Anyway, I'm coming with."
Jacques: "That works out great. The last one just walked out on me."
Meanwhile, a large screen is displayed in the archeology office showing a presentation of scanned ancient Greek tablets. Quinn appears on video conference on a laptop held by Max, and Brommen and Hitomi sit in chairs watching.
-Quinn: "So you see, the tablets consist of both syllabic signs and ideographic which are written in the Linear B script, originating in the time before the Greek Dark Ages but after those sketchy-- quote-unquote, Knossos tablets."
Hitomi: "Hah! I get it, and I find Quinn's enthusiasm and efforts quite satisfying. The work he's done here is more than impressive. It's super-impressive, if I may be so bold as to hyphenate."
Max: "Does that mean our funding is secured for the next year?"
Hitomi: "More than that. I'm going to see to it that you get even more funding! I'm sick of the University's music literacy program and have been looking for the perfect excuse to siphon assets from its harmonious glee-like gatherings."
Brommen: "That sounds horrible!"
Hitomi: "Well, anyway, this has been a really good trip to what I originally suspected to be a comedy school for deaf children. Ah, as a last request, I require a tour of your artifact storage facility. Nothing too fancy. Just a quick look-over to judge you one last time. Cause that's what I do. I judge people."
Hitomi picks up his things and leaves with Professor Brommen. Max places the laptop down to address Quinn. Quinn sits at the airport in Mexico City.
-Max: "This is great. Our secondary school keeps primary funding which means tertiary programming for the rest of us!"
Quinn: "Except now he wants into the storage room. That's odd behaviour for someone who has already made a decision in our favour. You need to find out what he's really up to."
-Max: "Gonna be honest. I was hoping you weren't going to mention that."
Quinn: "In the meantime, I'll be at the Temple of Quetzecoatl trying to set things right. All this presenting is turning me into some kind of talking vegetable. And whoever heard of a thing talking that isn't meant to talk? Where's the reality in that?"
Meanwhile, Eve and Jacques are passengers in the front seat of a truck carrying tortilla chips.
Peuro: "I hope you don't mind the chips!"
Eve, eating: "Mind? These are a welcome snack for lengthy, yet hasty road trips through the majestic southern highlands of Mexico."
Jacques: "How hot is this salsa supposed to be again? Your restaurant menu has three jalapeno pepper graphics next to its listed item, but it tastes like two."
Peuro: "You dare question the salsa of Mexico!? I kill you!"
He lets go of the wheel. But Eve leans over and holds it steady.
Eve: "Uhh-- We're here!"
She pulls the vehicle over at Teotihuacan and they get out, and make their way over to the tunnel entrance.
Eve: "Is it just me, or does the positioning of Teotihuacan's pyramids resemble the positioning of Orion's belt?"
Jacques: "I once had a piece of toast with that exact burn formation on it."
The two climb down into the tunnels and start walking.
Eve: "So, I've been wondering, why would there even be a tribute to the god Tlaloc at Ehecatl's altar? Wouldn't that be a contradiction of god-alter ownership?"
Jacques: "I was curious about the same thing. I don't think those two had much of any interaction other than when the wind brought in the rain at the end the Aztec dry season, and maybe Tlaloc helping Ehecatl with his love life once."
He flashes his light around, as they walk through the tunnels. They pass a yellow-taped off tunnel, the one he and Quinn visited last time, and continue on.
Eve: "All these gods, interacting and doing things. What's the point? Couldn't these Mesoamericans just go shopping, buy some shoes, and call it a day?"
Jacques: "The celestial belief system was the driving force behind all the ancient Mexicans. According to them, the universe was created and destroyed five times, with a different god taking the form of the sun each creation."
The two turn down another yellow-taped off tunnel.
Eve: "Speaking of the sun, this place is dark and creepy. Besides the other chambers, I don't think anything else can be found down here?"
They approach a dead end. Jacques starts feeling around the walls.
Jacques: "Something's down here alright; the wind jewel of Ehecatl. The Aztecs aren't the only ones with twistedly odd dreams of fortune and glory."
Eve: "Well burying it sure is a funny way to show their appreciation."
His fingers find the eye sockets of a buried skull. He pulls the skull out, then some bones, weakening the wall. He then digs mud and dirt away to reveal a stone wall. They clear an area of it to find partial pictographs and a circular embossing in the middle.
Eve: "Merciful Minerva!"
Jacques: "This embossing must be where my calendar sun stone goes."
He takes out the Aztec calendar and fits it into the circle. Suddenly a wall of rows of horizontal, sharp maquahuitl clubs launches out from the sides of the walls and blocks them from behind. Eve and Jacques observe in shock.
Eve: "I think I'd prefer that third jalapeno pepper right about now!"
Jacques, looks back at the pictographs: "Don't worry. We can get out of this. The calendar is the key. We just have to rotate the days. But which days?"
Eve: "The pictographs on the wall are broken and gone!"
The wall shows five sun circles with a faded pictograph inside each one.
Jacques: "No problem. From the remnants, it looks like those are the five gods in the creation story. Each of them was the sun. If this calendar represents Ehecatl's wind jewel, maybe one of the creation Gods represents Ehecatl."
Eve: "That's easy. Quetzecoatl was known to be the manifestation of lesser gods, inlcuding Ehecatl. It's him."
Jacques rotates the days around until the Quetzecoatl day aligns with the top of the calendar. Suddenly, the maguahuitl clubs start spinning.
Eve: "Not good. Not good!"
Jacques: "Okay, let's try this again. What if it's all the gods on the wall? The Aztecs worshipped all the gods equally, on separate days to balance them out. You probably couldn't have one being worshipped much over the other."
He rotates the calendar days.
Jacques: "If I remember my cram session correctly, the first sun was Tezcatlipoca... then Tlaloc... then Quetzecoatl... Chalchihuitlicue was fourth, and finally, Tecciztecatl."
He turns the days accordingly. When he's done, the spinning clubs start moving toward them.
Eve: "This is what happened to that guy we just pulled out!"
Jacques: "Of course! What was I thinking? Tecciztecatl wanted to be the fifth sun but he was too much of a big shot and was rejected. The fifth and current sun is the humble Tonatiuh!"
He rotates the calendar days as the clubs get closer and closer. He lands the last day on Tonatiuh causing the clubs to retract and the wall to open up.
Eve: "We should bring notes next time. And helmets."
They step forward into a large darkened room when suddenly Quinn's foot comes right between them. They dodge instinctively as Quinn jump-kicks passed. He lands and confronts the two of them.
Jacques: "Quinn! Aren't you supposed to be on a monotonous, head-numbing, pointlessly long flight back home?"
Quinn: "I couldn't go just yet; knowing the insanity surrounding the search for these artifacts you seem to value so much. So I'm stopping you from getting to this one, by any means necessary, in the hopes of simultaneously getting my point across and saving your life."
Eve: "Quinn? Like Picasso's photographer. Nice to meet you. I'm Eve."
Quinn: "Like the time of day after the afternoon? Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Jacques: "Quinn, these introductions are under false pretenses; re, the idea of you having any influence over my intents. My annoyed reaction to you is still unchanged, and you haven't even seen the end result of all this. So I suggest you wait until the appointed time before you get all judge-y."
Quinn: "Unfortunately, that's not on my sched. My next flight is in three hours from now, and I'm trying to rack up airline points. Besides, stopping you should be fairly easy."
Jacques: "Easy?? You ducked and covered at every Cartel chance confrontation!"
Quinn: "Those encounters were out of left field. I'm pretty warmed up now. I did a few crunches before I came down here."
They both take a stance right before fighting. Quinn and Jacques then block, kick, punch and block. Jacques is knocked back, but jumps back to his feet to attack again. After a few minutes of fighting, Jacques is knocked back again but Quinn's next attack is intercepted by Eve. She then starts fighting Quinn.
Quinn: "Wait. Is that Ninjitsu?"
Eve: "This is my primary style, yes, and I'll thank you to mind your own business."
Quinn: "Also, I thought it was nice to meet me?"
Eve: "It was. And now it's nice to fight you. I would have preferred to start with that, but delayed reactions and all. Am I right?"
They block and attack again and again, when she suddenly grabs a nearby spear, attacks a few times, and then knocks him on his back.
Jacques: "Thanks Eve. But this is my fight. I claim it like the Europeans claimed First Nation land in 17th century Canada."
She holds up the Aztec spear, in a ready-to-kill position.
Eve: "Not anymore, Jacques. Your post-friend is a dangerous pre-obstacle that has to be dealt with now-accordingly."
She lurches the spear toward Quinn, but Jacques intercepts and deflects it. He and Eve then start fighting; punch, kick, block, kick, punch. Quinn grabs a spear and then jumps into the fight, making it a three-way match. Eve grabs the calendar off Jacques. Both Quinn and Jacques kick Eve simultaneously, knocking her back toward the entrance. It is there they see a group of Yakuza and Cartel members standing, with a new leader in the middle.
Reen: "Gentlemen, is that any way to treat a lady?"
Eve slowly gets up and stands with the Yakuza.
Jacques: "Eve? You're working for the Yakuza??? They're the scum of the continents!"
Reen: "I'll field that question. Eve has been an excellent on-contract scout for the organization for many years. It is our official position that it is a pleasure to employ her on a part time basis, and I would gladly recommend her to any business looking to expand their shadowy agent roster."
Jacques: "What are her rates?"
Quinn: "Jacques! I leave you for two seconds and you befriend, entrust and recruit an agent of hired help?"
Jacques: "At least I got some free work out of her. But, yeah, I suppose a part of me didn't want to listen to common sense. You were right about me having no limits, Quinn. You were right."
Reen: "Do you mind? I'd like the focus on me for second. Allow myself to introduce the person who is talking at your faces right now. I'm a collector and my name is Reen."
Jacques: "Like the drainage ditches in the UK? Great moons of Krypton! Aren't you a politician back home?"
Reen: "That was a cover in a previous life. Oh please. Who in politics doesn't have ties to the mob?"
Jacques: "It is not good to meet you, for reasons that I have come to accept as obvious."
Reen: "Your discontent can't be reciprocated, Jacques. For, you see, your actions have amused me as of late. The mere fact you've gotten this far proves your amateur desperation extends to no foreseeable conclusion."
Jacques: "Now that you mention it, it was a pleasure acquainting myself with your henchman, Keukin. He, uuhh, didn't fair too well earlier, by the way."
Reen: "Keukin was a fail-parchment just waiting to happen! You did the Syndicate a great service by taking him out. Too bad, for you, that doesn't mean an end to your scheduled appointments."
Jacques, takes a stance: "Sorry, Reen, I never make any of my appointments."
Quinn: "This is pointless! Your precious find isn't even in this crap hole."
They look at a sunken, in-ground, reverse-pyramid surrounded by engraved pictographs, and pictograph painting on the sides of the steps, down. The centre shows a wide, empty pedestal where the jewel would have lay.
Reen: "There's nothing down here in this dank subterranean depository!"
Quinn turns to the reverse-pyramid with his flashlight.
Quinn: "These steps are describing several territorial battles being fought in this area. Some appear to be won by Moctezuma II, the last emperor of the Aztecs."
Jacques: "But I thought Ahuitzotl constructed this place in an uncharacteristic move to dig underground?"
Reen: "Give me that calendar!"
He takes it from Eve and examines it.
Reen: "Of course. Ahuitzol may have been the one to put the wind jewel here, but Moctezuma II took it away."
He then turns back toward the tunnels, with his men and Eve following.
Jacques: "Wait! Where are you going?"
Reen finds a pully rope in the side of the wall, next to the entrance.
Reen: "We're going to claim the artifact for ourselves. For reasons that you must come to accept as obvious, I have decided to allow you to die here. Trust me. It's only fitting for-- what does your kind rationalize this as-- archeology? Good luck with that angle! Hahahaha!"
He pulls the rope and the door begins to close before Reen steps out. When the door shuts, Jacques and Quinn glance at each other in shock.
Quinn: "We're in trouble again, Jacques. This does happen to you a lot. I see that clearly now."
Jacques: "Gadzooks man! Moctozuma II went out of his way to come down here and move this artifact somewhere else. Who does that??"
Quinn: "He didn't move it. He kept it for himself. They didn't have dust-infused throat-clogging museums for hapless gawkers back then."
Jacques: "No, he definitely stored it somewhere else. The symbols on the Pino Suárez calendar indicate a specific location. Why didn't I see that??"
Quinn: "That's what we're naming that thing after? An early Vice President of Mexico?"
Jacques: "It was the name of the station, and he was an important advocate for democracy during this country's Revolution. --Nevermind. 20th century history is way too recent for us to care about."
Quinn: "Anyway, let's get out of here, like a bunch of crazed grave robbers at an under-budgeted cemetery."
Jacques: "Yeah, but, dude; Moctozuma!"
Quinn: "Forget him-- all he ever did was engrave these calendar days into the floor."
Jacques, takes notice: "Wait! You're right. It looks like this whole area is circled by them."
Quinn: "The markings on the top steps don't describe any battles like the others. I'm willing to bet they depict the foreign and mystical goings on of the down here."
Jacques: "Exactly! He was crazy! Now, in terms of finding a way out of here, I think they're more obvious than an Egyptian tomb."
He walks over to the rope and pulls it. But nothing happens.
Jacques: "Make that a Palermo catacomb. You know, I've been doing this for years, and that 'nothing' has never happened."
Quinn: "The Aztec's must've manipulated this reverse-pyramid, like you had to the calendar."
He approaches the pyramid and accidentally steps on one of the inscripted squares.
Jacques: "Quinn, wait!!"
All the squares suddenly depress, causing the entire area to start rumbling. A ceiling full of clubs, with sharp obsidian edges on them, ejects from above and begins moving down.
Jacques: "Dammit! Now I have to die which is the opposite of I was trying to do."
TO BE CONTINUED