“Goah, the smell is… irresistible!”
Aline laughs. “That’s the intention. Piet should be there already, waiting for you.”
“Okay.” Edda draws a deep breath and smiles silently at Aline.
“This is it, Edda. The point of no return.” Aline’s voice is calm, her expression serious. “We can still turn around, return to the Festival, and nobody will be the wiser.”
Ximena feels Edda’s hesitation as the significance of the moment begins to truly sink in. Because it is true, this really is the point of no return. After tonight, lives will be altered forever, beginning with their own. But they can still return to their normal lives and never look back to these crazy rebellious days of youth. They can still live placid, safe lives under the Gift of Goah. Short lives, though. And lonely—Edda thinks of her father with sudden grief. Powerless lives.
“We are so doing this, sister,” Edda says, a sparkle in her eyes. “This is really happening!”
Aline nods curtly and gives Edda a bright smile.
“Let’s be quick about it, yeah?” Edda says. “We need to be back in the Forum long before midnight to avoid suspicion.”
They high-five each other and walk away in opposite directions.
Twenty-Eight
Happy New Century!
Professor Miyagi paces the stage of the auditorium, hands clasped behind his back. Ximena awaits with increasing impatience, her eyes staring with anticipation at the frozen scene, where the two teenage girls walk away from each other in a semi-lit alley.
“As historians,” Miyagi says, “we all know how the conquest of the Americas by the European powers played out, don’t we?”
Some sidetracking, Professor! Ximena thinks, and gives Mark a baffled frown. He shrugs in silence.
“But I’m sure,” Miyagi continues, “that few of you are familiar with the story of Pizarro and Atahualpa in Cajamarca.”
Ximena chuckles loudly.
“What?” Mark whispers in her ear.
“So funny!” she says, meeting his oh-so-blue eyes. “I watched a sensorial about it just before the seminar! The professor himself—”
Miyagi’s words interrupt Ximena’s explanation. “You are probably asking yourself what the sixteenth century Incan Empire has to do with the twenty-fourth century Hanseatic Imperium.” He spreads his arms for effect. “You all know the old Twain adage, ‘history does not repeat itself, but it rhymes.’ Well, Cajamarca and Lunteren are an excellent example. Anybody know what happened in 1532?”
“Here, Professor!” Mark shouts, raising Ximena’s arm in the air with frantic enthusiasm.
“Ximena, great!” Miyagi’s smile widens. “I’d love to hear your take. Can you summarize Cajamarca?”
Ximena stands, trying—and failing—to rein in her blushing. “Er, Pizarro and his men were outnumbered forty to one. But they managed to capture Atahualpa after massacring his court.”
“Yes, in a nutshell,” Miyagi says. “They shattered the Incan Empire with a single blow. How did they pull it off?”
“Well, uh, I would say a combination of factors.” Ximena shifts her weight from one foot to another. “First, hmm, Pizarro and his men were desperate, out of options: they could not engage Atahualpa’s army directly, but they could not flee either. Second, Atahualpa’s arrogance. He was too sure of his power—his divinity—to even conceive a betrayal, let alone a defeat. And third, technology. Pizarro had horses, gunpowder, cannons, tactics…”
“Desperation, arrogance and technology.” Miyagi smiles at Ximena. “Very well put. Thank you, Ximena.”
He paces the stage, hands behind his back, as if lost in thought. Always the showman. “Desperation, arrogance and technology,” he repeats, nodding slowly, and then raises his head at the floating Edda and Aline. “Ring a bell, anybody?”
Cody stands up with a raised hand. “You are surely referring to Edda’s desperation to save her father, Mathus’ corrupted arrogance, and of course, dreamtech. You are implying, Professor, that Edda’s usage of dreamtech against the Hanseatic Imperium was analogous to the usage of gunpowder-age weaponry by European powers when they civilized the Americas.”
“Civilized?!” Sky stands not far below Ximena and folds her arms. “For fuck’s sake, they killed fifty-five million people—ninety fucking percent of the population!—and wiped out a culture extending back thousands of years. And then, to fill the gap, they fucking imported millions of slaves from Africa! You call that civilized?!”
What in Goah’s Name is she talking about?! Ximena gives Mark a frowned glance, but he doesn’t seem at odds with Sky’s nonsense. Even Miyagi, down there on stage, is watching Sky with professional attentiveness. Why doesn’t he intervene? Is he being polite?
“I fear you are mistaken, my esteemed fellow Sky,” Yes, Cody. Put her in her place! “There was no culture in the Americas. Not in the civilized sense of the word. There were of course loose tribes of barbarians, fewer than a million in number, but certainly no civilization. I suggest you double-check your facts.”
“I can’t believe this!” Sky throws her hands up in the air, eyes locked on Cody. “What a fucking—!”
“That’s enough, Sky!” Miyagi hastily interrupts. Right on time, because judging by Censor Smith’s stern expression, he seemed about to intervene. “Sit, please,” Miyagi says. “Everybody, chill!”
It takes him a considerable amount of patience and soothing gestures until the indignant chatter that has gripped the auditorium finally wanes to a murmur.
“Thank you. Fascinating discussion, but outside the boundaries of this seminar. Please, get your focus back on our two ladies, all right?” He gestures at Edda and Aline, frozen in midair. “Look at them, people. So innocent. So hungry to change the world. That hunger that is the eternal curse of youth. And its prerogative. As many youngsters before and after them, Edda and Aline are challenging the status quo. A classic, right? You push, and the establishment snaps you back in place, your young and tender feelings be damned. That’s the way of the world. That’s how it’s always been. Except,” he turns around theatrically, looking at the GIA section of the auditorium, “crucially,” he turns to face the Lundev section, “this time it will work!”
He takes a few more steps in silence. Ximena shifts in place with increasing impatience as she follows the professor’s stroll on stage.
“Oh! Their plans will shatter, of course,” he says.
