The Aztec Code (12 page)

‘Ramez's bodyguards?'

‘– that was a mistake too, huh?' He straightened, his face sour. ‘You know, Tye, I'm getting the vibe you ain't exactly overjoyed to see us.'

‘It's not that,' Tye protested. ‘This is all so sudden, so crazy. I've been dying to get in touch but –'

‘Yeah, it musta been tough here,' Motti sneered, ‘locked up in just your robe with the topless prettyboy.'

‘This is Ramez, we –' Tye broke off. ‘We knew each other. Long time ago, back in Haiti.'

‘Looks like you been busy getting reacquainted.'

‘They are using him against you?' Con dabbed at her split lip. ‘You
are
a prisoner here, yes?'

‘I … I don't know for sure,' said Tye. ‘I don't get what's happening.'

‘Neither do I!' said Patch, ‘but I
do
know we need to get the bleedin' hell out of here. So, Tye, do Sixth Sun have the sword or not?'

‘I've never even heard of Sixth Sun!'

‘Then here's a refresher,' said Motti. ‘Secret society – believes in old Aztec crap. They kidnapped you, nearly killed Jonah, cosied up to that scumball Kabacra in exchange for that dumb sword –'

‘And if this place belongs to your “old friend” Ramez, then chances are
he
belongs to Sixth Sun too,' Con told her. ‘You're being duped, sweets.'

Patch had wandered back over to the front doorway. They'd left the door open, and through the moonlit gloom he thought he caught sight of
movement within. ‘Guys, those gorillas are waking up!'

‘Hold on,' Tye said, crouching beside pretty-boy who was groggily propping himself up on his elbows. ‘Ramez? Come on, we're getting out of here.'

‘We are?' he said distantly.

‘The bodyguards can't stop us. We're going back to Coldhardt.'

‘No.'

‘You need help,' she insisted, ‘and if you come with me –'

‘I told you, I ain't going nowhere,' Ramez said, hanging on to Tye's arms. ‘I can't.'

‘But
you
can.' Motti looked at her. ‘Come on back home.'

‘Quick!' Patch begged them.

‘Tye?' Motti held out his hand.

‘Don't leave me, Tye,' Ramez pleaded, looking up at her, all puppy-dog eyes. ‘Sugar-girl, if you ever loved me, don't make me face this alone.'

‘I can't run out on Ramez,' she whispered, cradling the boy's head. ‘I just can't. Not now.'

‘What?' Con stared. ‘For God's sake, sweets, he's just a boy!'

‘Get out of here,' Tye told them.

Patch felt sick. ‘You mean you ain't coming with us?'

‘I'm more use to you here. I'll find out more about Sixth Sun, look for the sword. If I find it, I'll get it to you somehow.' She looked at them each in turn in the smoky, flickering light. ‘Now
go
.'

‘Whatever.' Motti slouched away.

Con tried again. ‘This is madness, Tye. You can't just walk out on Coldhardt.'

‘I'm
not
,' she protested.

‘It doesn't look that way to –'

‘Will you just get the hell out?' Tye screwed up her eyes. ‘If they know I spoke with you …'

Con turned and left without another word, pushing past Patch who lingered in the doorway. There were definite groans and clomping noises coming from next door, and any moment now …

‘Patch, get going!' she urged him. ‘And tell Jonah …'

He cocked his head. ‘Yeah?'

She looked down at Ramez, her features hidden by shadow. ‘Tell him there's nothing like the sunset.'

‘Cyclops, leave her to it and shift your ass!' hissed Motti from the end of the hallway.

Feeling like his pounding heart was being tugged two ways, Patch pelted after Motti and tore down the emergency stairs.

‘I've hacked into the satellite's programming,' Jonah reported. ‘Ready to see what we've got at those coordinates?'

Coldhardt was the other side of the hub. He turned as if surprised to find Jonah still there, then crossed to join him at the terminal.

The image on the screen resolved only slowly. ‘It'll take a while 'cause I hooked up through five different proxy servers. The images will take longer to load and refresh but at least we stay secure and untraceable.' He paused and stretched noisily. It was later than he'd
realised. The minutes seemed to tick away ten times faster when he was busting codes. ‘You can say, “Congratulations”, any time you like.'

‘I expect no more or less from you than complete success,' Coldhardt murmured. ‘Ah, now that really
is
interesting.'

‘It is?' Jonah stared at the image; it appeared to be a low, wide shed plonked down on a large patch of farmland. ‘Doesn't look like much.'

‘It wouldn't stay secret for long if it did, would it?' Coldhardt pointed out. ‘If that
is
just an innocent farm building, why isn't it marked on any map?'

‘I suppose so,' said Jonah.

‘And look at that.' He pointed to a large round area where the grass was neatly cut.

Jonah felt a rush of realisation. ‘Could be a landing pad for a helicopter. Could be where they took Tye!'

‘I'll make some enquiries. We have to know what's happening there.'

Just then a chime sounded from the intercom in the hub doorway. ‘Motti and the others are back,' Coldhardt announced, moving a little stiffly over to an intercom device at the hub doorway. ‘Come down.'

Jonah felt a tingle of apprehension go through him. A few minutes later, the sound of the concealed lift as it descended the levels from the ranch house above was thrumming through the hub.

At last, Motti stood in the doorway, Patch and Con just behind him. Con looked like she'd lost a fight with a revolving door. There was blood on Motti's face. He passed some kind of decorated book to Coldhardt.

‘You ain't gonna like what we've got to say,' he said.

And as Motti started to describe all that had happened, Jonah decided that was the understatement of the decade. ‘Tye was actually there in the other penthouse?' He couldn't believe he was hearing about this second hand. ‘And you didn't get her out?'

‘We couldn't drag her away,' said Con, and from the look of her blackened chin, she had tried.

‘Ramez was an active smuggler in Haiti at the same time as Tye,' Coldhardt announced. ‘When I was looking for recruits in that sector, he was
not
under consideration. A big talker but no talent to back it up.'

‘Tye sure sees something in him,' said Motti, with a knowing glance at Jonah.

‘I understand they were involved romantically when he was incarcerated for drug smuggling. I
had
thought he was in prison under sentence of death.' Coldhardt spoke so casually he could have been discussing a game of cricket. He seemed more concerned with the strange book, running his fingers over the pictograms and characters on the ancient pages.

Jonah cleared his throat. ‘Bit of a coincidence, isn't it, that this Ramez guy should show out of nowhere and set up with Tye next to a Sixth Sun hideout? Like Con said before, it must be some kind of warning to you, Coldhardt.'

‘But why involve Ramez to do that?' said Coldhardt reasonably. ‘Purely to keep Tye happy throughout her incarceration?'

‘He's doing that all right,' Patch muttered.

Jonah could feel himself flushing. ‘We know Tye wouldn't run out on us.'

‘And we also know she wouldn't run out
with
us,' said Motti. ‘She said she would keep looking for the sword –'

‘But it is him she stays for,' Con said.

The words felt like little bruises on Jonah's insides. He remembered the way Tye had looked at him down in the wine cellar, just before the masked men came to the house. Imagined her looking at this Ramez guy in the same way.

Then he tried not to.

‘She knew him before she knew any of us,' Patch reflected. ‘Old loyalties run deep, I s'pose.'

‘Enough speculation.' Coldhardt looked up from the book, a fresh vibrancy in his old, craggy face. ‘I'll decide how best to deal with Tye later.'

Jonah frowned. ‘Deal with her?'

Coldhardt turned his wintry gaze on Motti, Con and Patch. ‘Your expedition may not have been fully satisfactory, my children, but it most certainly was not a wasted effort. I believe you have brought back with you a near-fabled relic of Aztec antiquity.' He picked up the old book reverently. ‘The Azteca codex.'

Motti frowned. ‘Co-what?'

‘A collection of ancient manuscript texts, over nine hundred years old. The conquistadors burned all Aztec books to demonstrate their mastery of the people.' He smiled coldly to himself. ‘So little of worth survived.'

‘But this is worth much, yes?' Con asked quickly.

‘Its value is inestimable …'

Jonah looked down at the table. He felt a crushing wave of confusion surge through him. So, that was it for the Tye discussion? Vague threats and then back to the only thing that truly mattered to Coldhardt – the basic value of things,
stolen
things. To Jonah it felt as if Tye had been stolen away; that he'd been standing on the brink of something good, only for the ground to crumble beneath him. And now he was expected to just go on as if nothing was wrong and –

‘If I might invite you back to the debriefing, Jonah?' Coldhardt's hardest stare was fixed on him, and Jonah realised he must've looked miles away. ‘This codex contains information on temple etiquette. A sort of “what not to do” guide for the high priests, to ensure they did not disrespect the gods. But there were always rumours that other, rather more valuable information was added to it at a later date.' He tapped the final page of the codex. ‘And now we have proof …'

‘What language did they use?' asked Con.

‘One called
Nahuatl
.'

‘Nah-wattle?' Patch sighed. ‘I can't even say it, let alone read it.'

Coldhardt shook his head. ‘Before anyone can read it, Patch, it must be decrypted.'

Jonah looked at Coldhardt warily. ‘It's a cipher?'

‘In part. And that is the part that interests me, that raises its value beyond computation.' The old man's eyes seemed alive with light. ‘Do you think you can crack a code that uses both text and pictograms?'

‘I've broken a hieroglyph code before,' Jonah admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘When I was in the Young Offenders Institution I studied the
computational theory of writing systems …'

‘Someone had already picked up
Playboy
that day,' said Motti wryly.

‘Finding the key won't be easy though,' Jonah warned Coldhardt.

‘There is a statuette in my collection of Aztec antiquities – a depiction of Coatlicue, Aztec goddess of life, death and rebirth. Certain pictograms are engraved upon its surface. Two of them were thought by experts to be unique, and couldn't be translated.' He placed both palms down flat on the ancient volume. ‘But three pictograms have been added to the final page of this codex, along with three lines of encoded Nahuatl. I don't recognise the third, but the first two match those “unique” marks carved into the statuette. Clearly there is a link.'

Despite himself, Jonah felt his interest rising. ‘Why's it encrypted anyway? Any ideas what the message is about?'

‘I believe it may contain clues to the location of a fabled lost temple dedicated to Coatlicue – the Temple of Life from Death.' Coldhardt paused, steepling his fingers. ‘It is said that when Cortes's conquistadors ransacked the Mexican interior, a temple was constructed underground, filled with the Aztecs' greatest treasures, and then concealed to stop the invaders ever getting hold of them. The temple has been searched for over the centuries, but never discovered.'

‘So that's what Sixth Sun are after,' Con said quietly.

‘Guess Tye must want a piece of it too,' Motti added darkly.

‘You don't know that,' Jonah snapped. ‘Like we don't know how Cortes's sword figures in all this.' He looked at Coldhardt. ‘Right?' The old man nodded slowly, and Jonah wished like hell that Tye was here to know if he was lying or not. ‘Now that you guys have told her what's going on with Sixth Sun, that they've got the sword, she'll be planning to find out more. Stuff that can help us.'

‘Maybe Jonah's right,' said Patch hopefully.

A long silence followed. Coldhardt broke it. ‘Now the computer network is back up and running, we must start a search. I want to know if this third codex pictogram is marked on any other artefacts of the era. If it is, the context may help Jonah deduce a key for the cipher. I will check through my own collection. Your task will be to gather images, schematics, sketches, anything from the late post-classical period. Some will be public domain online, others will exist only in museum records withheld from the public –' he smiled ‘– but
not
from us.' He stood up from the table. ‘You will start work at six a.m. For now, you are dismissed.'

Like any thought of helping Tye
, Jonah thought, rising to go, his head spinning.
Like any idea of finding the truth
.

Tye wouldn't have walked out on them, he knew that. And she could never betray them.

Right?

Why did Tye stay behind?
The question went on haunting Jonah as he sat with the others in the hangout.

Not that anyone seemed much in the mood for playing tonight. The raw thud of Motti's grungy homemade music thumped out from the speakers, well-fitted to the spiky, unsettled atmosphere.

‘Pretty cool tune, huh,' said Motti, slumped on a couch beside a crate of ice-cold beers. ‘This has got hit written all over it.'