The First Nova I See Tonight by Jason Kilgore (best ereader for pdf and epub TXT) 📗

a central chamber at the top. Each story had multiple open doorways, dark and looming, like portals into the past. A steep central stairway dominated the front of the pyramid rising to the top structure. At the very top, above the final stone room, a slotted rock wall rose even further like a crown upon the pyramid's head.

For a moment, the weight of antiquity seemed to descend upon Dirken. In his mind's eye, he saw before him not a crumbling edifice, but an intact temple decorated in smoking braziers and paint, men and women bedecked in colorful clothing and sandals in a style like those of the relief sculptures, their heads covered in many-feathered headdresses over sloping foreheads, hair pulled back into thick dreadlocks or braids and stiffened to form wildly artistic forms, their prominent noses and ears decorated with disks of turquoise or onyx.

"El Pirámide de los Cinco Pisos!" Juarez announced, breaking the vision. "The Pyramid of Five Stories!"

Dirken was indeed impressed, but he wasn't about to show it. "A pitifully generic name. Looks more like the 'Pyramid of Crumbling Gods' to me. No wonder you like it."

He heard Juarez scoff behind him, "Typical of a smuggler. No respect for the great accomplishments of mankind."

"True," Dirken replied. "It is an impressive accomplishment — of a culture long-dead and nearly forgotten, collapsing, bit by bit, like the rest of this world."

Drawing closer to the base of the pyramid, Dirken saw that it had been modified. At the bottom of the steps sat large power generators with thick black cables that snaked up the great staircase. Dirken could see satellite dishes, a microwave transmitter/receiver, and a neutrino-wave array for interstellar communications at the top, likely powered by these generators.

Yiorgos seemed to read Dirken's thoughts as he asked, "Did your Mayan friends also invent telecommunications, Juarez?"

The Governor didn't answer. Instead, he prodded them further until they were practically jogging across the plaza. Reaching the broad stairway, they started climbing, stepping over a row of blocks carved with odd, curving shapes that may have been some form of hieroglyphs.

Two of the acolytes stayed at the bottom, including the Bloodhawk's "slave," to start up the power generators. Weed and Juarez remained behind Dirken and Yiorgos. Ahead of them, Juarez's bodyguard quickly power-climbed the steps, carrying the Heart in its duffel bag. The others climbed slower, with the Aussie and the blond-haired yeoman from the Excellentia climbing just ahead of Yiorgos and Dirken, occasionally turning to check on the prisoners, blasters at the ready.

The steps were even steeper than those leading up to the acropolis, requiring that they used their hands to balance. At last they untied Yiorgos so that he could climb with his injured hand and forearm. He was in such a clearly weakened state that he wasn't likely to attempt an escape. Even so, Yiorgos had a hard time of it, repeatedly gasping in pain and wavering as if losing his balance, and Dirken had to help him along.

Dirken paused and looked down toward Juarez. "We have to stop. My partner…."

"No stopping!" Juarez said. "Get to the top. Now!"

"No!" Dirken shouted and kicked a loose stone.

Weed dodged it as it tumbled, then fired his blaster. The shot hit the steps to Dirken's right. Shattered bits of stone ricocheted around him.

"Climb!" Weed warned. "Or the next blast will end your life, asshole!"

Dirken growled in response, narrowing his eyes at the recruiter. I'll end your life, shithead, he thought, but then he turned and continued upward. "Come on, Yiorgos, old buddy, you can do it. We're halfway, now."

"Yeah," Yiorgos said, gasping. "Halfway to whatever fate they decide for us. How's that plan coming together?"

At last they reached the top and stood gasping for breath, facing a small, stone building with an open-aired vestibule with two openings. Inside, a doorway led into the dark depths.

Power cables, thick and black, snaked all the way up the stairs from the power units below. One cable continued across the platform into the dark room. The others split off to Dirken's left and right to communications arrays — those satellite uplink dishes and an interstellar neutrino emitter. Those connected via a series of cables to a quantum computing station shoved up against the stone building. All of these devices hummed with activity and defied the bright sunlight with various indicator lights and readouts.

Yiorgos collapsed onto the stone platform. Dirken stepped forward and leaned against one of two upright blocks, struggling to catch his breath. The Acolytes, similarly fighting for air, formed a ring around them. Juarez's bodyguard had long since outpaced them and was now inside the room doing something with the Heart. It was too dark inside for Dirken to see what it was, and the bodyguard had his back to him.

Dirken wiped sweat off his brow. Up here, the breeze was strong and cooled him a bit. Looking out across the plazas, he gazed out over the remains of the ancient city below, then out across a never-ending jungle. Far to the north he spied a blue line which he guessed was the Caribbean Sea. Or was it the Gulf of Mexi-something? Were they the same thing? Earth geography wasn't his strong suit.

"At last," Juarez said, stepping up to the top platform and holding his sides. "The temple of Itzamna, creator of the cosmos."

Dirken figured with one good stride he could launch himself toward Juarez and kick him down those fucking stairs. The bastard wouldn't stop rolling until he hit the ground, far below. But as satisfying as that might be, he wouldn't live another second beyond that as the other Acolytes opened fire.

Juarez pointed at Dirken. "That stone you're leaning against is where the Mayan priests made sacrifices. Blood was the nourishment of the gods. The priests would lay their sacrificial victims, each a high-status prisoner of war, across an altar just in front of you, then cut out their heart as attendants cut off the victim's head. Then the priest presented the still-beating heart upward