Chapter 1: January 2018

The New Year had begun. Contrary to the last two years, the sun shone over our valley, making the water droplets glitter in the tops of the huge araucaria and the few eucalyptus trees. Although meteorologically it was the rainy season in the Andes, we had perfect sunny days in the first week, unusual for January in Peru’s mountains.

I peered west from the terrace of our palazzo. Not a cloud in the sky, only in the very far distance little clouds caressed the snow-covered mountain peaks. It was an absolute idyll; a peaceful nature showed its best side. Few birds were chirping, preparing for mating season, but still had heavily muffled sounds at the moment. In the distance I heard the noises of the awakening Indio village, the mooing of a cow that must have just been milked, and the loud cackling of geese, which were recently bathing in the newly created carp pond. When the first swarms of parrots climbed up screaming, the idyll ended. Everyday life had brought me back from my melancholic mood.

In the early morning I was woken up in a sweat, feeling exhausted and tense at the same time. Suddenly they came back, the images of the night. I saw burning houses, the noise of war, fleeing women and children running up a hill in panic. Where did these pictures come from? I had never seen so much fear and terror in a film before, let alone in reality.

My heart was pounding again with excitement, although there was no reason far and wide. I got myself a beer from my study, sat down at a terrace table and tried to organize my thoughts over a cigarette. Again and again, I heard a strange shrill voice full of fear “Pachakamak! pachakamak!” yelled. What was that? I had never heard that word before.

Life came to life in the house. Things were going on happily. Doors slammed, people sang, and joked. Luisa, our cook, and the mother of my first son, came to me with a cup of coffee, greeted me warmly and stroked my head. “What about you, Michael? Are you worried?”

“Good morning, Luisa, my dear darling. Who or what is Pachakamak?” The Indian woman, a blessed Inca priestess since the solstice, looked deep into my eyes. “How do you know our god Pachacamac?”

“Luisa, I don’t know him. I had bad nightmares last night and a voice kept calling that name.” I carefully told what I could remember. It was really bad things. Around me lay men with smashed heads, brutally killed in battle with some enemy. I didn’t even know if they were my friends or my enemies. Shortly thereafter, I remembered performing a ceremony later in the dream, throwing something into a fire, saying with an invoking posture, “Pachi atipayati, pachi viracocha.” A group of armed men knelt in reverence around me, murmuring my words after me. Shortly thereafter, there was a dignified dance around the fire.

Luisa looked at me in awe. “You have the knowledge of the First Priest of our ancestors. The words you cried mean ‘Thank you for the victory, thanks to our god Viracocha!’ Michael, I should kneel in front of you. You are now the most powerful Inca.”

I laughed and hugged my wife. “I’m not a powerful Inca, I’m your man with bloodthirsty dreams. Your former priests sent me only bad memories. It would be nice if I could sleep peacefully again for the next few days.”

Luisa’s eyes fluttered back and forth a bit. You could really see her thoughts spinning. Suddenly she knelt down, clinging to my legs and asked me for the gift of a son. “Now our legend will come true. When a priest begets a son with a sanctified woman, our people receive the most precious gift, our Saviour, our ‘Hatun Qespichiq’, the emissary of our god Viracocha.”

Luckily, Cara called Luisa into the kitchen. Babette and Sula had been stunned to see what we were doing. “What about you, Michael? Why is Luisa crying?”

“Everything is fine, Babette. And what is not good yet will be good soon. Luisa thinks again that I am a divine being. I only told her about my nightmares last night. Go have breakfast! I’ll be right there.”

I sat thoughtfully. What had happened in the cave? Fahsai and Esther could suddenly play chess better than the computer program. Kira literally spoke Quechua overnight, better than most of the women in the village. Isabella could play the existing instruments of the Indians and had already built a new charango, a four-sided Indian guitar. Alonso still had strings in stock, as well as several armadillo bodies. The belly of the stringed instrument was traditionally made from one of these body shells. The Peruvian grandfather helped her with carving and drilling as a matter of course so that the strings could be tightened and tuned.

I didn’t know what Luisa received, but she often prayed in the village to the ‘Holy Mountain’, as she called the rock with the cave. She usually brought back a new Indio song, which she practiced for herself in the garden by the construction huts. Her singing became more and more solemn. Sometimes she sang like she was singing a ballad, but so clear and distinct, just fantastic. We all loved it. I also had the impression that she was more balanced and much more active in every conversation. Luisa had continued to improve for her good.

Olivia spoke wonderful English almost overnight, much better than I could. She had practiced with Zarina and Ramona for ten days, shortly afterwards she was already the best as far as I could tell. Zarina had received from Esther the site manager’s laptop with a wonderful language program. At some point, our ‘IT-expert’ managed to crack the access code. Zarina focused on learning grammar, worked with two spelling and grammar correctors, and with the help of programs was able to translate into Spanish and Russian. Olivia, on the other hand, practiced pronunciation, had sentences and groups of words played to her for many hours, learned new words wildly, and practiced free speech. When our little Peruvian spoke to the girls, the girls listened almost devoutly. Her newly acquired rhetoric was unique.

On top of that, Isabella and Olivia had become even closer, and Olivia was absorbing every Spanish phrase she hadn’t heard before. She also wanted to have a better knowledge of the Spanish language. Our young Peruvian mother, who actually looks more like a child than a woman, suddenly had the gift of learning, consolidating and deepening two languages at the same time, which is unbelievable for me, as I am not gifted with learning languages.

Leonie found new herbs, seeds, and roots and used them in recipes to create medicines. So they had made a broth from nuts and roots, whisked Coca juice and goat’s milk together, and the medicine was ready, which visibly strengthened Nuria and Alonso. Neither had expected to stay alive for another few weeks, had passed on their knowledge, inherited it to us, so to speak, but Leonie had given them new vitality.

Only I hadn’t received a gift at the supernatural ceremony in the grotto, at least I hadn’t noticed anything, only confused dreams, and images apparently from the Middle Ages, from the heyday of the Incas, and fortunately only since last night. I couldn’t understand how it all happened. There was only one explanation for me, but it was so daringly wrong. Had extra-terrestrials really supported or even produced the advanced cultures in Central and South America and given them methods of thought transmission? I absolutely had to find out. Today I wanted to explore the rock grotto. Hopefully, Miguel will help me open the tunnel.

After breakfast I prepared everything. In the handcart I packed a rechargeable battery headlamp, two hand lamps, ropes, and cables as well as electrical measuring devices. I had my cell phone plugged in for charging. With this I wanted to take pictures of the grotto and the many golden reliefs and symbols. But most of all, as an engineer, I was interested in how the effect was achieved with the flash of light and what role the golden wires on the ceiling played.

Luisa recommended me to talk to Nuria and Alonso beforehand, to get their approval, so to speak. I smiled at my dear wife, agreed with her, but could not resist making a remark. “Luisa, you said I am the most powerful Inca on earth. Why do I need the consent of Nuria?”

Luisa laughed too. “Of course, you are right, as a high priest you are allowed to do anything you want, but honouring old age is also an important commandment of our ancestors.” Once again, I got one of her infamous wet smacks. Her whole behaviour showed me, Luisa had changed noticeably. In the last year, she would never have found such a clever response so quickly. I was curious to see what other spiritual gifts we had received.

Nuria did something extraordinary when I asked her for her opinion and approval with Olivia’s help. She took my hands and put them to her temples. Suddenly, comforting warmth flowed into my thoughts; a deep affection for Nuria and from her to me gripped me. Was that my gift? Could I feel or even read the thoughts or feelings of others with my fingers? I wanted to remember that, try it very carefully step by step.

Suddenly I received a message in a completely unclear way. The cave of the high priests would be taboo, it could not be opened either. Only if the weather was favourable on the day of the solstice, that is, the sun reached the valley of the gods; the tunnel would be ready to open.

What had just happened to me? Nuria spoke only Quechua; I knew only a few words of this language. Nevertheless, without words, these thoughts and feelings overpowered me. I was suddenly determined to stop my inquiries and explorations of the rock grotto. I would only learn the secret of the holy cave if I had proved myself worthy of it, my brain thought to myself.

Nuria smiled at me, took my fingers from her temples, and crossed my hands on my torso. We looked at each other deeply. Her face was marked by age, her hair was lank and completely grey, but her eyes spoke kindness to me, as if I were her son, whom she was happy to see and in whom she wanted to give strength and optimism.

Although I was determined to stop the planned investigation, I hurried with Olivia to the rock sacred to our Indios. The black Inca symbols, Ananda’s masterpieces, shone towards us in the morning sun. I took photos of the entrance to the tunnel but made no attempt to open the passageway to the cave. It was incredible, the gap between the capstone and the rock was only between a millimetre and two millimetres, looked like the stone had been machine cut out of the rock with high precision. Who could take out and transport such a stone without tools? My imagination couldn’t keep up.

As if by myself, I commanded myself, speaking aloud to myself, “Enough for today, Michael. We wait until the next solstice. Nuria is right. For our life we do not need the cave. Curiosity is not good for all of us. Olivia, how do you think?” She took my hand without a word and we walked back to our home. Suddenly she quoted English verses. I later heard it was from Shakespeare.

“How poor are they that have not patience!

What wound did ever heal but by degrees?”

Olivia also explained the meaning of these words to me from her point of view. You just have to take your time and be patient for certain important things. I looked at my companion as if she had just appeared to me from another world. What she had learned in the few days and how she was able to use this knowledge was fantastic.

In the palazzo garden, loud melodic rock music boomed out of the pair of loudspeakers. The pool was uncovered but the water needed to warm up in the sun. Everyone enjoyed the great weather. The students enjoyed their first day off from school, summer vacation in January. As an European, you had to get used to it, but for the young women everything was taken for granted.

After the meal I had planned the preparation of the carp ponds. Sula had already attached thin gauze to the two drains to our new irrigation system in December. We wanted to lose as few fertilized eggs as possible or none of the tiny larvae after hatching. For days, the females have been given additional food such as crushed grain and crushed corn, and of course grains as well. In pond 4 we fattened the milkers, the male carp that were to be put into the pond for the female carps tomorrow.

Under the guidance of Miguel, the four girls from the village had cleaned pond 5, which until recently had almost dried up and was covered with a stinky liquid. Around the pools, Ananda had cleared the embankments. Mayari did part of the physical education classes there so that paths formed when running around the ponds.

Miguel trained Kira and Fahsai, our fish specialists, on how to support spawning. The girls cut off the lowest branches of young araucaria and placed them around the bank of the breeding pond. In addition to the pond plants, the fertilized eggs should attach themselves to the leaves and protect them from being eaten too much.

The water temperature should not be too high, but not too low either. The inflow and outflow were greatly reduced. The water warmed up in the sun to almost 20°C. In the late afternoon, the male carp were carefully caught with nets and placed in the pond with the female carp. There was only one male for every four females. The five male carps started a wild drive, chasing the larger females in front of them, bumping into their bodies and thus stimulating the spawners to lay their eggs soon.

Almost all the young women had watched, waiting for the spectacular process of fertilization, but Miguel explained that the lovemaking lasted about twelve hours before ovulation began in the females. Tomorrow morning shortly after sunrise we could watch the spectacle.

Of course, we marched to the pond at dawn. Even Esther and Zarina came along, although they were in their ninth and eighth months, meaning shortly before the birth. It was worth it. From afar we could hear restless behaviour in the water. The fish jumped up to a meter out of the water and hit the body of the female with all their might. They withdrew between the plants and the branches that had been fed.

The sun rose higher and not only made the water glitter but also warmed the water surface. Miguel opened both drains. As the water level dropped, the crazy insemination process began. The few males buzzed over the females, spraying clouds of semen in all directions. They had a mammoth task to fertilize the more and more eggs that were being released. In carp farming the ratio of males to females is actually the other way around; three to four males to one female, but Miguel wanted it that way the first time so we wouldn’t get too many juveniles.

The ecstasy of the males lasted more than half an hour. After a few minutes, exhausted, the first milker drifted to the drain and could no longer free himself from the suction of the water. A second and a third followed. But two carps kept splashing their milk over the branches and the females until finally, also completely exhausted, they could only swim to the middle of the pond, barely moving their tail fins.

With Carmen’s help, Miguel explained to us what the way of life for the young carps would be like. After about five days, the larvae emerge from the eggs, but are still clinging to the twigs, leaves, and grass. Many would be eaten by the adult fishes, but larger numbers would be the basis for the next breeding.

On the fourth day after the insemination campaign, the first life appeared. The embryos had partially hatched but were not yet able to swim. They clung to the aquatic plants and araucaria branches like stubble.

A few days later the carp fry had developed into thousands of larvae and were floating in the water thanks to their swim bladders. We fished out the male carp. They were a welcome meal for the villagers as, unfortunately, the small carp larvae became their mothers’ food. Together with four of our ladies, Miguel fished as many as possible of the larvae out of the breeding pond using fine gauze nets.

Pond 5 was free of fish but was occupied by many microorganisms. Here the tiny carp were able to get used to the natural food. Miguel informed me about the breeding progress. After about six weeks, the mini carp would receive crushed grains, but also dried remains of cassava and potato skins, crushed.

We had made a big step forward in fish farming; we had sloshed old and sick carp into the Tiso from a great height with buckets. If they didn’t survive the fall, they would still be welcome food in the river and then in the sea.

Olivia asked me about a story from Nuria the night after Priya’s 15^th birthday party. Maybe I should say a few words about the birthday party first. Babette wanted to celebrate on the forecourt again, celebrating around the campfire like last year should become a tradition. The evening was even nicer this time, not quite as wild, but with wonderful songs and dance routines. Esther had recorded from TV ‘Nick America Kidz Bop 37’ and watched the best songs with her friends several times. They liked the song ‘Havana’ best. My four young beauties, not yet adorned with a pregnant belly, had practiced the dance steps and the refrain. Esther played the music for this. It was a unique show how Kira, Fahsai, Sula, and Daja interpreted the song. I found out later that they had danced the dance steps of the four singers again and again in the cinema. The arm and leg movements alone were almost synchronous, along with the happy, beaming faces, pure joie de vivre.

Havana, ooh na-na (Ayy)
Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na (Ayy, ayy)
He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na, ah
Oh, but my heart is in Havana (Ayy)
There’s somethin’ ‘bout his manners (Uh-huh)
Havana, ooh na-na

Our dancers could only sing part of the interlude, but then they sang at the top of their lungs again:

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh (Ayy)
I knew it when I met him (Ayy), I loved him when I left him
Got me feelin’ like, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
And then I had to tell him, I had to go
Oh na-na-na-na-na (Woo)

I think the song has been repeated at least five times. Soon, some pregnant bellies were moving to the rhythm of the music too, fascinating. Then my Romanian assistant claimed the song for herself. Babette danced a little awkwardly, but she sang different lyrics in the solo. She sang ‘Paradiso’ instead of ‘East Atlanta”, substantially changing the meaning of the song.

I had no idea what she meant as she kept pointing at me and singing:

“Havana, ooh na-na

I was never in Havana, ooh na-na

He took me here in Paradiso, na na na,

Oh, my heart is with him here ooh, ooh, ooh.

There is nothing better, ‘ll never be. Uh-hu.

Paradiso na-na-na. (Ayh)”

Soon Sula, Isabella, and Cara were singing along, followed shortly afterwards by everyone. The music was off, but the newly invented song blared across the forecourt. Babette stood beaming in front of me. “Michael, Priya has her celebration today, but I’m also celebrating my love for you. My song was just for you.” Her kiss on my lips was followed by many more kisses from the girls and women. I was in seventh heaven once again, even a little embarrassed.

It was tidied up in an exemplary manner, the fire pushed together in such a way that no damage could occur, because the wind had picked up. Soon all the furniture and the equipment were back in the house. Another fantastically beautiful day had come to an end.

Back to the interesting conversation with Olivia shortly after the party, Olivia stretched out and told me what Nuria, and partly also Alonso, had told her in the last few days. The Incas received various signs of their power from their gods, a golden staff with which they founded the city of Cusco, a fire knife with which they could also cut down trees or drill into rocks, and a box with which the priests spoke and who would have helped them to lead the Inca armies extremely victorious, to predict the weather and to understand the course of the stars. The box was sacred, the rulers held it in honour, no one dared look inside until the box stopped speaking. Months later and after much prayer, the box was stripped of its protective covering of pressed straw and opened. The ruler Mayta Capac dared to do it after extensive consultation with the priests. But they did not find an image of their sun god Inti in it, but rather structures and materials that were useless from their point of view. That was the end of the initially overwhelming victories of the fourth Inca ruler. The Incas usually only managed further victories with numerical superiority, no longer by the surprising appearance and attacks in completely impossible to foresee places.

“When Nuria told me these and other stories, it always sounded to me as if our rulers had state-of-the-art technology at their disposal. Scouts couldn’t find the unknown paths through the mountains that quickly. Did they have maps or even a sat navi? Can that be, Michael?” Olivia looked at me uncertainly.

“Yes, Olivia, no one knows, but yes, it could be. I have also heard that the Inca rulers had contact with extra-terrestrials and were guided and trained by them. But no one knows that today. At that time, the Spaniards had destroyed everything that could have been evidence of this. We’ll probably never know.”

“That’s too bad, Michael. I would find it totally exciting if my people had been guided by extra-terrestrials or if we had even mixed with them.”

“Me too, Olivia. That would be great. But look at the sun mask of your god Inti. Doesn’t that look like the face has a spacesuit around it?”