The stars were fading as Levi made his way towards the thick jungle at the north-west corner of the airstrip. He knew from his previous visits that the narrow jungle-track led to the Central Acropolis, the sacred heart of the great Mayan city. The air was cool, and already the jungle was coming alive in the soft pre-dawn light. Suddenly, a series of enraged roars pierced the foliage. Levi looked up to see a group of howler monkeys, the biggest nearly a metre tall, their squat black faces staring down at him from the tops of massive, buttressed strangler figs. The killer trees started life as a tiny seed. Eventually, the seed’s tendrils wrapped around a host tree, strangling it, as the crown of the fig tree soared above the canopy. Figs were a favourite of the howler monkey. The troop moved on, noisily alerting the rest of the jungle to Levi’s presence. Further into the rainforest, Levi spotted two keel-billed toucans, croaking and barking in the half-light, their bright-yellow hooked beaks contrasting with their jet-black feathers, but it was the large paw marks and droppings nearby that made him proceed more cautiously. Levi recognised them instantly; a jaguar was on the prowl. He moved silently on the forest floor of decaying leaves, peering through the low-lying ferns, orchids and mosses that grew in abundance alongside the balsa, chicle and myriad other trees and vines growing thickly around the ancient city.
Twenty minutes later Levi emerged into a clearing, surrounded by moss-covered limestone pyramids. The jungle was noisier now. The howler monkeys competed with the chirps and trills of the hummingbirds, the hoot-oot of the blue-crowned motmot, the insistent kyowh-kyowh of the orange-breasted falcon and the squark-squark of the brilliantly coloured macaws and parrots.
Levi moved through the East Plaza, skirting the sacred court where the Maya had played humanity’s oldest and most brutal ball game. He reached the Great Plaza and the base of Pyramid I, built by Jasaw Chan K’awiil, the twenty-fifth ruler of the ancient city. Levi looked up. The limestone steps of the huge pyramid connected nine separate levels, culminating in the roof comb, nearly forty-six metres above the plaza.
Breathing hard, Levi at last reached the summit and turned to survey the jungle below. A heavy white mist drifted through the tops of the thirty-metre-high ceiba trees, sacred to those who had once occupied the ancient city. Huge mahogany, cedar, chicle and ramon trees towered over the smaller copal trees and escobo palms, forming a thick green carpet as far as Levi could see. To the west stood the imposing Pyramid II, and to the south-west of the Great Plaza he could see Pyramid III. Further west the roof comb of Pyramid IV thrust defiantly through the mists, while to the south, the top of Pyramid V was also visible, as was the Pyramid of the Lost World. Levi walked to the east side of Pyramid I. The mists on the horizon were tinged with a brilliant orange-red glow. A fiery sun rose slowly and majestically, bathing the ancient city in its light.
Levi felt a sense of awe as he reflected on the ancient Maya. To the east of the Great Plaza the jungle had taken over the magnificent paved causeways that once controlled the entry of traders into a bustling marketplace. The pyramid temples of a mighty city that had glimmered in a brilliant shade of salmon pink had now eroded to reveal a dirty limestone, covered here and there in a dank, dark moss. Levi shivered. The sudden fall of the Maya was an eerie reflection of humankind’s vulnerability and mortality. He turned towards Pyramid IV, pulled a compass from his pocket and took a bearing, then a second bearing on the Pyramid of the Lost World.
Far below, von Hei?en adjusted his binoculars. He stood in the shadows of the ball court and watched as Professor Weizman put the compass to his eye.
Roberto Arana, the shaman from the shores of Lake Atitlan, was also watching. He was short and stocky and his sun-weathered face looked older than his years. His jet-black hair was tied in a ponytail and he wore a bright- red bandana. More at home in the jungle than either von Hei?en or Levi Weizman, Roberto kept both men in view from his position in the rainforest beside Pyramid II.
Levi waited while the mother-of-pearl disc steadied. His pulse quickened as it stabilised. His experiment back in Vienna with the light beam had predicted that the prism on top of the first figurine would deflect the sunrise, aligning the sun’s rays on precisely the same bearing, directly towards the top of Pyramid IV. Was the second figurine somewhere in the depths of the partially explored Pyramid IV? And where was the third?
Levi replaced the battered compass in the pouch on his belt and began to descend the steep blackened limestone steps on the eastern face of Pyramid I. His thoughts turned to Ramona, Ariel and Rebekkah. In Vienna, he knew, things had gone from bad to worse. Hitler was more threatening than ever, and the Austrian Nazi Party’s Brownshirts were firmly in control of the streets.
Von Hei?en put down his binoculars and waited.
5
VIENNA
A riel Weizman started up the steps towards Judengasse, fighting back tears. Rebekkah was already crying and Ariel took her hand, determined to protect her. The humiliation at the hands of their new teacher had been crushing.
‘You! Weizman and your sister! Jude Kinder! ’ Herr Schweizer had yelled at Ariel and Rebekkah as soon as the bell rang to signify the start of classes. Schweizer was thin and balding with a wispy moustache.
‘Filthy, stinking Jude Kinder! You’re lucky to even be allowed in this class. From now on you will both sit at the back of the room. The world would be better off without your type, and the rest of us don’t want to be contaminated!’
Laughter echoed off the old Hauptschule walls, and Ariel looked around. Even his friends were laughing at him. He made his way to the back of the class with Rebekkah and sat down. Numb. What had they done to deserve this?
Herr Schweizer, a senior vice president for his region in the banned Austrian Nazi Party, addressed his new charges.
‘There are going to be some changes around here, for the good of Austria and the greater Deutschland. We will deal this morning with the Treaty of Versailles. Can anyone tell me what that was and why Germany should never have been a party to it?’
Rebekkah clung to her brother’s hand as she dragged her satchel up the Donaukanal-Judengasse steps, her blonde curls bedraggled; the cracks between the steps fuzzy through her tears.
It wasn’t until they’d almost reached the top that Ariel noticed the crowd. Suddenly a stranger grabbed him by the ear. His assailant was a large, rotund man in breeches. The man wore a felt hat with a large feather. His coat looked several sizes too small and he was wearing a swastika armband on his sleeve.
‘What are you doing here?’ the man demanded, his face florid.
‘Let go of me! We live here!’ Ariel replied, trying to shield his little sister.
‘So! Jude Kinder! Gutter-dwelling Jude Kinder!’ the stranger bellowed, addressing his remarks to the jeering crowd. Though it was the second time Ariel had heard the words that day, the sting was no less vicious. He caught sight of Herr Lieberman and his wife, who owned the carpet store a few doors down from his mother’s boutique. They were scrubbing the steps with toothbrushes. Herr Lieberman looked sad yet somehow dignified as he shook his head at Ariel and Rebekkah, indicating they shouldn’t resist.
The stranger thrust a paint can and brush into Ariel’s hand.
‘Schreiben Sie hier Jude verrecke!’ He grabbed Ariel by the neck and forced him roughly to the ground. The crowd began to chant menacingly. In a futile gesture, Rebekkah flailed at the stranger who held her by the hair.
‘Sieg Heil! Jude verrecke! Sieg Heil! Jude verrecke!’
Through uncomprehending tears, Ariel began to paint the words in large black letters on the steps. Jude verrecke! Death to the Jews!
When Ariel finished, the crowd reacted with a roar and the stranger kicked him behind his knees. Ariel’s legs buckled and he fell backwards down the steps. The man kicked the paint can after him and thick black paint splashed over Ariel’s face and school uniform. The crowd cheered wildly.
Ariel wiped his nose and mouth and looked up to find three older boys in brown shirts crowding over him. He yelped in pain as one of them kicked him in the ribs.
‘I wouldn’t walk to school tomorrow, Jew boy, and that goes for your bitch of a sister too. We’ll be waiting.’
