Dave spoke very seriously. “Neil, I’m not sure she’ll take us back,” he said. “I like Yucatan all right, but I’m for our own time and place.”
Neil agreed heartily. From that moment he took an active interest in the welfare of the machine. His stay here had been interesting and full of adventure, but he was of the present and this place could never truly be his home. At best this was a sort of extended vacation into the past, and one from which he expected to return. He would never cease to marvel at the accomplishments of the Mayas. They were an astonishing race, and he would have much to tell his father when and if they did return.
One day Neil suddenly remembered Kukulcan, and again asked Talu about the Feathered-Serpent god.
“There is a god by this name?” Talu asked.
“I… I don’t know,” Neil stammered, unable to explain the time angle of his travels. “I thought you would know.”
“The Feathered Serpent?” Talu asked.
“Yes,” Neil replied hastily. “Do you know of him?”
“Kukulcan,” the priest said softly, and Neil waited expectantly.
“No,” Talu answered. “I do not know of any such god. What makes you ask?”
“I… I heard there was such a god in Yucatan.”
‘We have many gods and we serve them well. But there is none called Kukulcan. There is no Feathered Serpent, my friend.”
It was then that the futility of the whole trip struck Neil like a sharp blow to the pit of his stomach. No Kukulcan. All his father’s work, all the years he had spent developing the temporium crystal, planning the time machine, all wasted.
Apparently there was no Feathered Serpent. Somewhere along the line someone had make a mistake. The information was false. Not satisfied, he began checking for himself, studying the sculpted facades of the temples and the pillars, searching in vain for a figure that would resemble a feathered serpent, or even a serpent without feathers.
There was none. Nothing. The time trip had been a fool’s errand. All the dangers, all the anxieties, were for nothing.
Likewise Arthur Blake and Dr. Manning had given their lives at sea for a will-o’-the-wisp.
Neil buried his despondency by helping Dave on the time machine. Hour after hour they worked silently, straightening the still damaged rotor and then plunging into the intricacies of the operating mechanism.
“We should never have used it that night,” Dave said.
“We had to,” Neil answered. This was a conversation they’d had many times before.
“It’s not always best to consider the immediate need,” Dave said. “Because of that night we may never get home again.”
“If we hadn’t used the machine that night,” Neil answered, “we might be dead now.”
They continued to work on the machine, and in the meantime, Erik began preparing his ship for the long ocean voyage ahead. Many of his men had been killed in the barbarian raid, leaving less than half his crew to manage the heavy ship.
There was excitement in his eyes, though, as he spoke to Neil of the voyage.
“The harvest will be a good one, and we will have plenty of food for our trip. My men can handle the ship, Neil. I know they can. And soon we will be home.”
Chapter 17
Homeward Bound
Erik’s prophecy regarding an abundant harvest proved correct. The Mayas, up long before dawn, worked in the fields until sunset, gathering fruit and vegetables. All day long processions of sweating men laden with baskets of food filed into the city.
The women took the baskets, sorted them, put them into baskets again, and brought them to the storehouse.
The hunters, too, went out to the woods early every morning, returning at night with carcasses on their shoulders and their pouches full of game.
Meanwhile, Erik and his men worked on the Norse ship, like a horde of grasshoppers, hammering and sawing, twisting rope, tightening seams, reinforcing the sail for the long trip ahead.
Erik seemed to be everywhere at once, issuing an order here, carrying a heavy piece of lumber there, sweating and singing with the men in his crew.
And Dave, caught up in the fever of preparation that had swept over the city, doubled his efforts on the time machine.
Neil, because he had less to do, grew more restless now than he had ever been.
Talu came to him one day. “We have gathered in the maize,” he said. “Will you and Erik now show us what to do with it?”
They went down to the beach, where the Norse ship was beginning to look brand-new, its planks scrubbed clean, its shields glistening.
Erik was anxious to explain the use of the maize and, together, they walked into the city where bushels upon bushels of maize were being accumulated.
Erik held several grains in the palm of his hand.
“This is good maize.” he said, grinning happily.
“But how do we eat it?” Talu asked.
“You must first shell it and then allow it to soak overnight.”
“In water?”
“Yes,” Erik replied. “Water mixed with a little lime.”
“And then?”
“In the morning have your women rinse the grain in fresh water.”
“And then can we eat it?”
“You do not understand,” Erik said. “This is not something to be eaten as a tomato or a bean.”
“How then?” Talu wanted to know.
“It is to be eaten with tomatoes or with meat or with your other foods. It is nourishing and filling and it will solve many of your food problems.”
“How do we prepare it?” Talu asked.
“You must secure a flat stone, preferably one with a concave surface. Place the maize grains on this and, with another stone or a piece of rounded wood, grind the maize until it becomes a fine paste.”
“I still do not understand.”
“Your women will make this paste into thin cakes, kneading it with their hands. You will then put these on a thin, flat stone-any of your pottery will do-and bake them over a fire. Take care that the flame is a slow-burning one.”
“And the taste?”
“The taste is somewhat flat, but you can dip them in chili pepper. And then, you can always eat maize cakes with your other foods. You will see how it supplements your meals.”
Talu nodded sagely. “We will try it. If it does as you say, we will plant it again. We can use all the food we can get.”
“It will be important to you,” Erik said. “Try it.”
The next day the Mayas began carrying food to Erik’s ship. They streamed onto the beach, handing basket after basket of food to the Norsemen. The baskets were lifted over the side of the ship: potatoes, squash, beans, pears, plums, tomatoes, papaya, chili. Jars of honey, sides of the cured meat of deer, wild boar, turkeys, and small birds.
And along with the stock of food, Talu brought something for Erik to taste.
It was flat and a pasty white color, and it looked very much like a pancake.
Erik bit into it and rolled it around on his tongue.
“Excellent.” he said.
“This is the cake we prepared from the maize. As you say, it is excellent. My people thank you, Erik.”
“And may we have some for our journey?” Erik asked.
Talu grinned. “They are being basketed now. You will have plenty, my friend.”
Water came next. The Mayas struggled onto the beach with enormous jars and hoisted them over the side of the ship.
These were firmly lashed in place, fore and aft, along with the stock of food that the Norsemen had taken aboard.