Find the Feathered Serpent
EVAN HUNTER
The Great White God
When Cortez and his Spanish soldiers conquered Mexico, Montezuma, Emperor of the Aztecs, believed Cortez to be the Great White God, Quetzalcoatl, who had returned to his people as promised centuries before. It was only after the Emperor realized that Cortez was merely flesh and blood, like other humans, that he attempted to destroy him.
The Quetzalcoatl whom Montezuma had worshiped was a real man who lived in the thirteenth century. It is claimed that he was a Toltec ruler who was taken to the religious city of Chichen-Itza as a prisoner of war. Although human sacrifices were never as frequent among the Mayas as among the Aztecs, it was common practice to sacrifice prisoners of war to various important gods. The most important of these gods were the “rain gods” and thus Quetzalcoatl, the Toltec, was thrown into the sacred pool at Chichen-Itza. Being very strong, he was able to stay afloat for a long time, and then the Mayas pulled him out and accorded him the honor of making him a god-a living, breathing god who walked the earth. They called him Kukulcan, after an early legendary god whose name is said to mean “feathered serpent.” In time, Kukulcan became the most powerful ruler in Yucatan.
But what of the legendary god this man was named after? What evidence is there of a Kukulcan before this thirteenth-century leader?
Adorning the temples of Copan, far back in the dim beginnings of Maya civilization, was a strange symbol, half-bird, half-snake. This was Kukulcan, the feathered serpent. Generally in the form of a large S, the serpent motif was elaborately decorated with scrolls, plumes, and human ornaments such as headdresses, earplugs, and noseplugs.
In Chichen-Itza, a mysterious cult flourished. The cult worshiped a god named Kukulcan. The god was portrayed as a rattlesnake. In the place of scales, its body was covered with the feathers of the sacred quetzal bird.
In Guatemala, given the name of Gucametz-which also means “feathered serpent”-he was worshiped as one of four creator gods.
Throughout all the history of the Maya, there is evidence of a feathered serpent god-long before the human who lived in the thirteenth century.
Where did it begin? How did it come about?
Who was the first Kukulcan?
If only there were some way of turning back the pages of time, leafing through them swiftly, back, back to the very beginning, back to unrecorded history, back to the creation of a legend.
Chapter 1
Through Time to Yucatan!
The rifle barrel jerked up, its blue-black metal catching the feeble rays of the moon and reflecting them dimly. “Who goes there?” the voice snapped at the darkness.
Neil Falsen recognized the voice, and smiled, his lips parting over even, white teeth. “It’s only me, Rusty,” he said. “Advance and be recognized, Neil,” Rusty kidded. Neil walked over to the man in khaki and patted him on the shoulder. “Any trouble, Rusty?”
Rusty lowered his rifle to the ground and leaned against the fence surrounding the enclosure. He spit into the dust and grinned broadly in the darkness.
“Not a bit, kid,” he said, “not a bit.” He shifted the rifle into a more comfortable position. “And there won’t be any trouble, either.”
“You never can tell,” Neil said. Rusty nodded his head sagely and said, “Ah, but I can tell, my friend. I’ve been in the Army for a long time now, Neil. I been through the African campaign, and the Italian campaign, and I was ready to go into Germany when I happened to stop a bullet. I’ll tell you one thing, and you should never forget it. Whenever the Army has you guarding something, there’ll be no trouble.”
“I don’t get you,” Neil said.
Rusty leaned closer and said, “It’s simple, kid. Wherever there’s no guard, that’s where the trouble pops. I’ll let you in on a secret. This guard business is all a hoax, Neil. It’s just a plan to make sure that no self-respectin’ dogface gets a good night’s sleep, that’s all.”
Rusty began chuckling, and Neil joined him.
“Come down to have another look at her?” Rusty asked.
Neil nodded. “I feel kind of funny,” he admitted. “I mean about… well…”
Rusty spit into the sand again. “You mean about going along on the trip?”
“Yes,” Neil admitted. “I still don’t think it’s exactly right.”
“Forget it,” Rusty said. “You’ll have the time of your life, believe me. There’s nothing like overseas duty.”
Neil’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark now, and he saw that Rusty was smiling again. Rusty was a short, squat private first-class with a shock of red hair that always hung in an unruly manner over his forehead. He had a broad nose that seemed to have been squashed into his face and then peppered with freckles. His grin was a quick, infectious one, and Neil could never be with him without feeling in good spirits.
That was one of the reasons he’d come down to the enclosure tonight. He’d begun thinking about the time trip again, and feeling a little blue. He knew he’d find Rusty here, with his disheveled uniform and his highly polished rifle. Neil could never figure out why the same man would keep his clothes so dirty and his rifle so clean. But each was an integral part of Rusty’s makeup, and Neil had come to like the soldier a lot. In a way, he almost wished that Rusty were going on the trip tomorrow.
Tomorrow!
Again, the same half-thrilling, half-frightening tingle shot up Neil’s spine. He, Neil Falsen, was leaving in the time machine tomorrow; leaving for Yucatan and the land of the ancient Maya, in search of a god.
“May I go inside and look at her?” he asked Rusty.
“Sure, kid,” Rusty said. “But you’re gonna wear the old lady out with your staring.”
He chuckled again and unlocked the gate leading to the inside of the enclosure. He wheeled the gate back and, when Neil stepped through, he closed it again, leaving the padlock hanging open.
The time machine rested on a platform high above the ground. It looked clean, and shining, and unused. The moon perched above it, a thin crescent in an ebony-black sky.
It looks like an hourglass, Neil thought.
The machine was at least twenty-five feet high, a beautifully tooled work of aluminum and plastic. The control room was in the exact center of the ship, an aluminum band that seemed to squeeze the plastic bubbles above and below into a constricting wasp waist. Exactly like an hourglass, the bubbles above and below arced away from the tight band of aluminum. The lower compartment contained the fuel tanks, aluminum containers set against the circular, plastic walls of the machine. A hatchway stood in the center of the lower bubble and, to the right of this and on the inside, was a thin aluminum ladder leading to the control room.
Above the control room, and housed in the upper plastic bubble, was a shaft that led to the twin rotors at the top of the machine. The rotors were exactly like those on a helicopter, and Neil knew they would handle the space-travel angle of the machine’s operation.
The time-travel angle, and here Neil’s own heart skipped a beat at the thought, had its heart in the control room, in the temporium crystal that lay covered by sheets of aluminum in the control panel.
Tomorrow, I’ll be whirling through time. Me, Neil Falsen,
It was funny the way things happened suddenly. Everything would be going along just as it always had, with the University quiet and complacent on the desert sands, and the sun shining brightly, and the birds singing, and everything normal, everything just the way it always was, day after day. And then, bango! and the whole world could go topsy-turvy, just like that, just like snapping your fingers and pulling a rabbit out of a silk hat.