He passed between the large, golden statues of a man and a woman that flanked the portal, and then continued down the tunnel beyond. It was wide and straight and patterned with gold designs. Many doors opened off it but he did not examine any of them: that would wait They doubtless contained many things of interest, but they were not the reason for this passageway. That lay ahead. Faster and faster he walked until he was almost running, up to the great double doors of gold that sealed the end. There was only silence behind them. There was a strange tautness in his chest as he pushed them open.
Beyond was a large chamber, almost as big as the other one, but this one was undecorated and dark, with just a few small lights to show him the way. There was a rear wall and sides, but the far wall was missing. The opening faced out on the star-filled night sky.
It was no sky that Chimal had ever seen before. There was no moon in sight and no valley walls to form a close horizon. And the stars, the stars, the overwhelming quantity of them that broke over him like a wave! The familiar constellations, if they were there, were lost in the infinity of the other stars as numberless as grains of sand. And aft of the stars were turning, as though mounted on a great wheel. Some faint, tiny; others blazing like torches of many colors, yet they all were hard and clear points of light without lie flickering of the stars above his valley.
What could this mean? In uncomprehending awe he walked forward until he collided with something cold and invisible. The sudden spurt of fear dissipated as he touched it with his hand and realized it must be the same kind of transparent substance that covered the front of the cars. Then this entire wall of the room was a great window, opening out on — what? The window curved outward and when he leaned into it he could see that the stars filled the sky to left and right, above and below. He had a sudden vertigo, as though he were falling and pressed his hand to the window, but the unaccustomed cold of it was strangely ominous and he quickly pulled away. Was this another valley facing the real universe of stars? If so, where was the valley?
Chimal stepped back, unsure, frightened by this new immensity, and as he did he heard a faint sound.
Was it a footstep? He started to jump about when the killing thing was suddenly jerked from his hand. He fell back against the cold window and saw the Master Observer and three other men standing before him, all of them pointing the deadly flame weapon at him.
“You have come at last to the end,” the Master Observer said.
THE STARS
1
Chimal squared his shoulders, ready to die. The words of a death chant came automatically to his lips and he spoke the first phrases before he realized what he was doing. He spat the words from his mouth and sealed his traitor lips tight. There were no gods to pray to and the universe was a place of utter strangeness.
“I am ready to kill you, Chimal,” the Master Observer said, his voice dry and toneless.
“You now know my name and you talk directly to me, yet you still want to kill me. Why?”
“I will ask and you will answer,” the old man said, ignoring his words, “We have listened to the people in the valley and learned many things about you, but the most important thing we cannot find out. Your mother cannot tell us because she is dead…”
“Dead! How, why?”
“… executed in your place when it was discovered that she had released you. The priests were very angry. Yet she seemed almost glad it was happening, and there was even a smile on her lips.”
They did watch the valley, and how closely. Mother …
“And just before she died she said the important thing. She said that it was her fault, twenty-two years ago, and that you, Chimal, were not to blame. Do you know what she could have meant by that?”
So she was dead. Yet he already felt so cut off from his life in the valley that the pain of it was not as great as he expected.
“Speak,” the Master Observer commanded. “Do you know what she meant?”
“Yes, but I shall not tell you. Your threat of death does not frighten me.”
“You are a fool. Tell me at once. Why did she say twenty-two years? Did her guilt have something to do with your birth?”
“Yes,” Chimal said, surprised. “How did you know?”
The old man waved the question aside with an impatient movement of his hand. “Answer me now, and truthfully, for this is the most important question in all of your lifetime. Tell me — what was your father’s name?”
There was silence then, and Chimal realized that all the men were leaning forward, intent on his answer, almost forgetting the weapons they carried. Why shouldn’t he tell them? What did broken taboos matter now?
“My father was Chimal-popoca, a man from Zaachila.”
The words struck the old man like a blow. He staggered back and two of the men rushed to help him, dropping their weapons. The third man looked on, worried, with his own weapon and Chimal’s killing thing both pointing downward. Chimal tensed himself to spring, grab one of them, and escape.
“No…” the Master Observer said hoarsely. “Observer Steadfast, drop those weapons at once.”
As he had been ordered, the man bent and put them on the floor. Chimal took one step toward the door and stopped. “What does all this mean?” he asked.
The old man pushed his assistants away and made some adjustment on one of the devices suspended from his belt. His metal harness instantly stiffened and supported him, holding his head high.
“It means we welcome you, Chimal, and ask you to join us. This is a glorious day, one that we never expected to see in our lifetimes. The faithful will gain strength by touching you, and you will aid us to gain wisdom.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Chimal said desperately.
“There is much to tell you, so it is best to begin at the beginning…”
“What do these stars mean, that is what I want to know?”
The old man nodded, and almost smiled. “Already you teach us, for that is the beginning, you divined that.” The others nodded. “That is the universe out there, and those stars are the ones the priests taught you about, for what they taught you was true.”
“About the gods as well? There is no truth in those stories.”
“Again you divine truth, unaided. Proof of your birthright. No, the false gods do not exist, except as stories for the simple to order their lives. There is only the Great Designer who did all this. I talk not of the gods, but of the other things you learned at the priests’ school.”