After some grumbling and muttering, he opened his eyes. “Wha'd you do to your hair?” Supay murmured.
She scoffed. “That’s the least of my worries. Wake all the way up, and I'll tell you what I know.”
While giving Supay a few moments to follow her instructions, Ilyapa began to unpack the pieces of the Sapa Inca’s old Voice. If they wouldn’t let her fix the new system, she would restore the old one.
The next morning, Ilyapa rose from the cold, hard floor with the other sequestered wives in her group, after sneaking back in and snatching a brief, turbulent sleep. Her neck was so stiff and sore that she could only turn it halfway to the left and a quarter to the right. Although she had tried to hold her hair up out of the water on her return, the lower halves of her long, skinny braids were still wet. She hoped no one would notice. Luckily, between being rushed into matching outfits—she wondered how many people had been pressed into making them—and lectured repeatedly on the way they were to behave in the procession, her wet hair was the last thing anyone wanted to think about.
Then the Coya arrived at the front of the great room where all of the wives were gathered, so thoroughly bedecked with precious metal and jewels that seeing her in sunlight might hurt. The procession director clapped his hands above his head, and his assistants made shushing noises.
The Coya spoke. “Honored sisters, I welcome you to my family.” Her face, cold and remote, looked anything but welcoming. “Today you represent Viracocha’s Land to the foreigners allied with the dirty Spanish and their weak pawns in Panama. We have long held the Spanish and their diseases away from our land, so our strength is unquestionable, but you must make them know the value of our precious Sapa Inca, who even from beyond death is denied nothing. He who has as many warriors, as many llamas, as many wives as he requires. He who decides our destiny. The Emperor Everlasting.”
The Coya looked around the room. “I hope you are all worthy of such a powerful lord.” With a sour expression on her face, she left.
Ilyapa still could not imagine the woman’s plan. If the Sapa Inca couldn’t speak, it would be an embarrassment for all. What was the Coya trying to do? And Khuno? How did they intend to use the metal man?
Well, they wouldn’t get their way, she hoped. She and Supay had returned the Sapa Inca and his workings, fully functional, to his oligarchy attendant—generally known as his “advisor.” Bachue didn’t care for the solution of restoring his old-fashioned Voice, but she agreed that it was better than no Voice at all. Concerned about plots, loyalties, and repercussions, Ilyapa and Supay had decided not to mention their suspicions about the Coya, but they both intended to watch as events played out, and report on the situation if necessary.
Ilyapa paced up the ramps toward the broad expanse atop the Wall with the wives, between two narrow columns of battle llamas in their sparkling light armor. Ilyapa was near the front due to her position, only outranked and preceded by the few teenaged noblewomen who had been available for marriage to the Sapa Inca when it was called for. The rest, behind her, were mostly country girls. They had all been instructed not to talk, and that was the one thing about the situation which suited her well. The Coya didn’t have to walk with them, of course, and she would arrive separately.
The sky full of ominous clouds didn’t help Ilyapa’s mood or her energy level, but she pushed on, keeping in step with the others. She glanced upward frequently as they reached the top and filed into position, expecting the perfect final touch of drenching rain at any moment, and it was during one of those glances that she saw the massive shape in the air above the Wall, emerging from the clouds, followed by another, and another. Her involuntary yelp earned sharp looks from the irritable wives around her, until they noticed the ships—dirigibles, the Amerigans called them—and reacted even more strongly by clutching at each other, pointing, and embarrassing themselves with babbling and tears. On the terraced walkways and streets below, waves of reaction rippled through the crowds. Even the well-trained llamas, despite being accustomed to battle chaos, began to groan fearfully in the strange tension.
And that was when the metal giant appeared, striding mechanically toward them from the opposite end of the Wall with the Coya’s own cart following close behind him. He wore a tall royal headdress, made of metal feathers instead of real ones, and he carried a colorful bundle in his arms: the Sapa Inca, Ninan Cuyochi, cradled within the device which served as his Voice.
The members of the oligarchy, known to the public only as high advisors and honored citizens, had been arranged in a semicircle facing the approaching dirigibles, but now they all turned to watch as the Coya was helped down from her vehicle, followed by Bachue, Sapa Inca’s attendant and interpreter. The two women preceded the metal man, walking toward Villac-umu, the high priest. He greeted the Coya as usual, while the advisors shuffled and hesitated as Ilyapa had never seen them do before. The crowd began to settle, curiosity overtaking fear.
Villac-umu, in his rich speaking voice, called out, “I welcome Yupanqui Capac, the son and heir of the Sapa Inca Ninan Cuyochi and the Coya Pachama!”
The metal giant raised his free left hand to wave, still holding the Sapa Inca in his right.
“The gods have informed me that this modern age requires a young, vigorous, and powerful new Emperor. They have placed the spirit-son of Ninan Cuyochi and Pachama in this metal vessel to create our new Sapa Inca, Yupanqui Capac. The Coya will now ask the Emperor if he wishes to object.”
Ilyapa’s understanding clicked into place. She stepped forward, watching avidly, not caring a bit for the rank of other wives.
The Coya said, loudly, “Ninan Cuyochi, do you wish to object to this transition?” She reached up to push the button on his device that would prompt an answer, and Yupanqui Capac leaned down to allow her access.
How does the device work? Ilyapa wondered. How does it know what to do?
The Emperor’s Voice whirred into operation. The Coya jerked back, looking to Villac-umu, who shrugged slightly. A cord began to emerge from the device, displaying a short sequence of knots. Bachue hurried forward to examine the cord.
“You will become an honored sacrifice to the gods," she stated in a carrying voice.
The Coya shrieked. She turned on Villac-umu furiously, gesturing with both hands as she launched into a series of curses and insults. He stepped backward, holding up his hands in front of him. The Coya turned to the giant metal man and spoke. Ilyapa couldn’t tell what she said, but he began to walk toward the Panama-side edge of the Wall and the dirigibles that hovered above it. Ilyapa could see pale faces watching through the clear walls in the nearest one’s riding section. No one had tried to come out yet; she wondered what they were waiting for. Yupanqui Capac stopped in front of it and tilted his head to look up, surprisingly lifelike.
The metal giant raised his arms to lift the Sapa Inca over his head. Slowly, he pulled his hands backward. For a long moment he paused there, and Ilyapa thought, No, he wouldn’t. But then the giant flung the Sapa Inca Ninan Cuyochi and his Voice with enough force that the apparatus hit and cracked the dirigible before dropping to the ground far, far below, in Panama.
All sanity broke down. The Sapa Inca’s wives turned to run away, screaming. Llamas fought their handlers, braying their anxious noises again and spraying spit in all directions. Shoving, shouting, and shrieking erupted. Ilyapa put all of her remaining energy into standing still and watching, despite the battering of frightened women pushing past.