The Great Speaker’s voice didn’t rise once during this tirade, but a distinct note of petulance entered it. All at once he came across as less than the supreme, all-powerful emperor he was supposed to be.
At the same time, Mal was halfway to becoming convinced that he was more. Much, much more.
“Take it off,” said Quetzalcoatl, biting back anger. “The mask. I want to see your face. I don’t want to talk to the Great Speaker any more. It’s the person beneath the mask I’m interested in.”
“This? Off?” The Great Speaker rapped the mask with his knuckles. It rang like a bell. “Why not? Gets so stuffy in here anyway.”
He placed a hand either side of the golden head-covering and hoisted it off, setting it down on a nearby table.
“There. That’s better. Fresh air.”
The face that stood revealed was a handsome one like Quetzalcoatl’s. There was a clear resemblance between the two of them, from the high domed forehead to the prominent cleft chin. They could easily, as the Great Speaker was claiming, be brothers. Twins, even. The Great Speaker, however, had a less attractive cast to his features. He looked haughty, where Quetzalcoatl looked noble. His eyes were that little bit closer together and deeper set, that little bit less frank and open. His complexion was several shades darker, too, black coffee as opposed to Quetzalcoatl’s café-au-lait. As the two of them faced each other, it was as if one was the distorted image of the other, a reflection seen in a mirror that somehow removed sincerity and replaced it with cunning.
“There you are,” said Quetzalcoatl. “Just as I remember. You haven’t changed a bit, Tezcatlipoca.”
MAL HAD PASSED beyond astonishment and entered a state of being where nothing felt solid or certain and where everything that had once made sense no longer did. A kind of wild hilarity kept bubbling up inside her, threatening to break out as a mad cackle. Had Aaronson not been next to her and looking not one iota less stunned, she’d have wondered if she was losing her grip on sanity. Was she dreaming? Was she in the throes of a drug trip which she couldn’t remember embarking on?
Had the Great Speaker really just removed his mask before her very eyes?
Had Quetzalcoatl really just addressed him by the name Tezcatlipoca?
Were these four beings on the terrace – these four who were sharing the same space as her, breathing the same air – really none other than the Four Who Rule Supreme?
It was inconceivable.
Impossible.
Absurd.
And yet Mal knew it was true. It must be. She felt it at a level inside her that had nothing to do with rationality and everything to do with intuition. Her brain was screaming at her that this was all some extraordinary, elaborate stunt. Someone was having her on. Any moment now, the four of them would turn round and wink and say, “Gotcha!” Meanwhile, her heart, her gut, her soul, was insisting that yes, it was exactly as it appeared. There could be no mistake. She was witnessing a meeting of the full complement of the Four, the first in five hundred solar years. Gods had returned to the earth. Or, in Tezcatlipoca’s case, had never been away.
“Look at them,” said the Great Speaker, alias Tezcatlipoca. “What a staggering revelation this is to them.” He meant Mal, Aaronson and Reston, of course; Colonel Tlanextic gave every indication that he had known his master’s true identity all along. He was coolly enjoying the startlement on the others’ faces. “They’ve been led to believe the Great Speaker is Moctezuma the Second, but that was just a cover story, a convenient fabrication. It came down to a choice. Which would be the easier to swallow, that a man could be granted extraordinary longevity, or that Tezcatlipoca now ruled them?
“People might wonder, why Tezcatlipoca? Why not one of the other divine visitors? Why not Quetzalcoatl himself? I was aware I wasn’t the most popular of the Four. So I concocted the role of Great Speaker, usurping the identity of an emperor already beloved of his people. Moctezuma himself was none too pleased when he learned that he was about to be forcibly supplanted as ruler. Ironic, really; here was a man who had presided over so many human sacrifices, who had chalked up countless deaths in the name of his own glory, yet he was profoundly reluctant to give up his own life. He struggled quite a bit. Screamed and bit like a howler monkey under my hands.”
“You... killed him?” said Mal.
“Someone had to,” Tezcatlipoca replied airily. “Seemed simplest to do the job myself. It happened in his private quarters, not far from this spot. There were no witnesses. It was just Moctezuma and myself in a room, the last true Aztec emperor and the last god left on earth. He perished, I disposed of the body so as not to leave a trace behind, and next day this entity called the Great Speaker emerged, claiming to be a Moctezuma energised by godly power, a Moctezuma who would live and rule forever by divine decree.
“I wasn’t entirely sure at first that people would fall for it. The priesthood, especially, I thought would see through the imposture and demand proof that I was the emperor in new clothes. In the event, everyone was duped. Some perhaps had their doubts, but went along with it anyway because up until then Moctezuma, with the gods’ aid, had overseen expansion of Aztec territory on an unprecedented scale, and as the Great Speaker I quickly established that the future would hold more of the same, even though the gods were now gone. I promised them the world, as a matter of fact. It was what the Aztecs wanted to hear, so they were willing to set aside any misgivings they might have had and take me at face value. I told them that the gods had raised me up, elevated me to a higher order of being. I planted the seeds of a story which grew into a legend and from there to a simple fact of truth, a cornerstone of the Empire. People will believe anything if it’s in their interest to do so.”
“A grotesque hoax,” said Quetzalcoatl.
“But it worked, and it’s what I do best – sleight of hand. Am I not the Smoking Mirror? Do I not distort and obscure? We can’t help our natures. Might as well criticise Xipe for being a feral beast or Huitz for being worthy but dull. Or yourself, Kay, for being a stuck-up prig.”
“Be very careful what you say,” Xipe Totec growled.
“Oh, I do. All the time. Am I not great at speaking?”
“I mean it.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? You’re welcome to try, Flayed One. But you know as well as I do that we’re evenly matched. It would take a lot more than you’ve got to finish me off. I reckon, in truth, that I’m the equal of the three of you put together, and that’s barehanded, without armour or any other form of defence or weaponry. Shall we put that to the test?”
Huitzilopochtli and Xipe Totec looked at Quetzalcoatl, who offered a tiny shake of the head. Not here; not now.
“Thought so,” said Tezcatlipoca. “What do you want from me, then? Am I to relinquish my Empire to you? Is that it? Step down and let you take from me something I’ve spent five centuries building?”
“I’d like you to reconsider your position, at the very least,” said Quetzalcoatl. “We can dismantle what you’ve created and raise something better in its stead, something more in line with our original aims. We won’t throw out everything you’ve done. We’ll keep what works and discard the rest.”
“The Empire is the glue that binds this world together. Get rid of it, and I assure you, the human race will tear itself to pieces in pretty short order. There’ll be chaos like you couldn’t imagine. Nation pitted against nation. Ancient, long-buried antagonisms rising up again like reanimated corpses. I know what these people are like. I’ve been living among them for far longer than you ever did. Colonel Tlanextic? Am I not right? You tell them. Without the Empire, how long do you think this planet would last?”
“Couple of years,” said Tlanextic, “if not months. Not long. Everyone scrambling for advantage, trampling on everyone else in the stampede to get to the top. Powder keg, and billions of sparks shooting in all directions. Next stop, extinction.”
“I never said it would be easy,” said Quetzalcoatl. “Rectifying the situation wi
ll require time, great care and trouble. But it can be done, I’m sure of it. I’m prepared to put in the effort. We all are. We co-ordinate, administrate, make the transition from dictatorship by personality cult to multi-state democracy as smooth as possible. I’ve drawn up plans. A timetable. I could show you, Tez. It’ll take a decade, no more. A decade, by which time humans will have learned how to manage without the Empire and be living in relative harmony and prosperity. What we do first of all is set up a global governing body, a talking shop where individual countries can air their grievances and settle disputes without recourse to conflict. It could even be here on this very island, manned by elected representatives from all of –”
Tezcatlipoca interrupted him with a noisy, elaborate yawn, fanning his mouth with one hand. “Sorry. Drifted off there for a moment. What were you saying? Some guff about a global government. Well, I can tell you right now, it’ll never work. Humans can’t agree on anything, unless they’re forced to. You conjure a lovely utopian idyll, Kay, but take it from me, it’s unrealisable; not here, not on this planet. A pipe dream.”
“I have faith in people.”
“And I have knowledge of them,” Tezcatlipoca shot back. “And my practical, hands-on experience trumps your ignorant optimism. Let’s face it, this whole enterprise of ours was doomed from the very start. We set out to nurture and enhance an entire species, make it as civilised and united as it could be, evolve it to a higher level of sophistication, but the only way we were ever realistically going to do that is the way I’ve done it, through fear and intimidation. Humans just don’t have it in them to behave themselves, to act responsibly. They need to be bullied. That’s how they treat each other all the time. It’s the only language they understand.”
“I refute that. You have an appallingly low opinion of this race, Tez.”
“And you, Kay, have an appallingly high one. It’s one of your bad habits. Like incest.”
“Do not mock me!” Quetzalcoatl yelled, making a lunge for his tormentor.
“Ah – ah – ah!” said Tezcatlipoca, standing his ground and wagging a finger. “Unwise.”
“Heed your own advice, Plumed Serpent,” said Huitzilopochtli. “Don’t rise to the bait.”
Quetzalcoatl glared at Tezcatlipoca, but did not make a further move.
“There they are,” said Tezcatlipoca, triumphantly. “Those true colours of yours. The real Quetzalcoatl behind the façade of compassion. The man behind the mask. Your own duality in evidence – though some might call it two-facedness. You came to ask me to surrender my Empire. Here’s my answer: No. You can’t have it. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished here. I like being the Great Speaker. It suits me. I enjoy having several billion sentient creatures under my command. I relish the thought that the inhabitants and resources of an entire planet are at my beck and call. I have power. I have status. I have respect. This is mine. You obliged me to become what I’ve become. You can’t now just turn up and expect me to un-become it. I am Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, the Great Speaker, and to put it bluntly, you, Quetzalcoatl, brother of mine, and all the rest of you, can go fuck yourselves.”
He paused for breath, his last phrase lingering sourly in the air.
Mal looked at the two brothers, who were bent towards each other like the sides of an arch. Enmity crackled electrically between them, a long-held, deep-seated loathing that was all the more intense because of their shared blood. No one could hate quite as hard as close kin could, as she well knew.
“Fair enough,” said Quetzalcoatl at last, stiffly, straightening. “Our positions are clear. I gave you every chance, Tez, remember that. Now get ready. What you won’t give up willingly will have to be taken from you by force of arms.”
“Get ready?” replied Tezcatlipoca with a look of sheer delight. “I’ve been preparing for years! I knew this moment might come. Provision has been made. Contingency measures are in place. Come at me as hard as you like, Kay. Do your worst. I can handle it. Whatever you dish out, you’re getting back fourfold. That’s a promise.”
“War,” said Quetzalcoatl. He sounded weary, resigned, but somehow not surprised.
“If you want to glorify it with that name. Me, I’d call it a takeover bid. A coup d’état. And like any attempted coup, it will be ruthlessly repelled and quashed.”
Quetzalcoatl thumbed a button on a controller strapped to the palm of his hand. The wings on his back extended gracefully and he took off from the terrace. Xipe Totec and Huitzilopochtli did the same.
“I truly regret this,” Quetzalcoatl said as he rose into the air. “I wish we could have settled things peacefully.”
“Don’t talk rot,” Tezcatlipoca replied. “You couldn’t be happier. Right now I can almost hear your conscience rubbing its hands with glee.”
Quetzalcoatl heaved a sigh and soared, Xipe Totec and Huitzilopochtli trailing in his wake. Within moments, the three were above the horizon, and then lost from sight.
“So,” said Tezcatlipoca, turning to Colonel Tlanextic. “I think that went as well as could be expected. Nice to see the old bastards again and get everything out in the open. There’s nothing like a family feud, is there? Gets the blood pumping, the heart racing. Makes one feel alive again.”
“What do you want from me, Your Imperial Holiness?”
“Well, of course we must break out the battle gear and set up our defences. This is what generations of Serpent Warriors have been training for. The drills, the dry runs, the endless manoeuvres – this is where it all finally comes good.”
“Yes, sir. Understood. I’ll get on it straight away.”
“With any luck we can have it all wrapped up and done within a day or so, I can still attend the Beijing conference as planned, and nobody will be much the wiser. Institute a media blackout throughout Anahuac, would you, colonel? Get the Jaguars to contact all journalists within the country, foreign and local. Embargo on all photography and filming within a twenty-mile radius of Tenochtitlan, not to mention interviewing. Standard penalties will be enforced for infringement. No reason need be given.”
“I’ll get on it right away, sir.”
“But before that, there is one other thing.”
“Sir?”
“Those three.” Mal, Aaronson, Reston. “They’ve gone from being an interesting diversion to loose ends, and I do so despise loose ends. They’ve seen too much. Now that they know who – what – I am, they’re only going to get in the way and be a bother. Two of them resent being deceived, I can tell, and the third despises me anyway. I can’t think of anything more imaginative to do with them, so kill them for me, would you? There’s a good fellow.”
Tezcatlipoca retrieved his mask and headed indoors.
TWENTY-FIVE
Same Day
COLONEL TLANEXTIC UNSHOULDERED, primed and levelled his lightning gun, all in one swift, practised movement.
“You heard him,” he said. “Let’s not make it difficult, eh? Just stand there in a row, all nice and tidy, like three erect pricks. It’ll be quick. You won’t feel a thing.”
“Colonel...” said Mal.
With a pained expression: “What?”
“Don’t. You don’t have to do this.”
“If the Great Speaker decrees that you’re to be killed, then you’re to be killed.”
“Why? We’re not going to be any sort of trouble. We’re on the same team as you. Me and Aaronson are, at any rate.”
“I know, and it’s a shame because I like you, Vaughn. You’re my kind of woman. And your swishy friend there seems all right too, for one of his sort. Under other circumstances I could see us sitting down together and getting blind roaring drunk and having a fucking good laugh. But orders are orders. You understand that. Especially when they come from a god, no less. So chin up, take your medicine, be a good servant of the Empire. And you...”
He swung towards Reston.
“Where d’you think you’re going? I saw. Sidling over towards those chairs. Don’t think I
don’t know what you’re up to. Crafty little shit. You I’m saving until last. Those two are a chore. You, you bastard, are going to be a pleasure.”
“Colonel, I’m begging you,” said Mal.
“It’s no use, boss,” said Aaronson. “He’s not listening. It’s all that fat between his ears. Stops the sound getting in.”
“Ooh, meow,” sneered Tlanextic. “If I had feelings, they’d be hurt.”
“Is there a Mrs Tlanextic?” Aaronson asked.
“None of your business.”
“I’ll take that as a no. Doesn’t surprise me. You don’t strike me as the marrying kind. I’ll bet when anyone asks, you say you’re wedded to the job. Say being a Serpent doesn’t leave room in your life for anything else, wife included. But the truth is, you don’t actually like women. Pretend to, but deep down, though you’d never admit it, your tendencies go the other way. I can tell. I’ve met your sort before.”
“Oh do shut up.”
“The gruffer they are, the more macho they act, the more they’re kidding themselves. Then there’s all your talk about pricks and arseholes...”
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