Lost City of the Sun

12

"WOULD YOU BELIEVE," said Jack, "that we are sitting in the middle of it?""

Huh? What do you mean? Right here, this little village?" Zane looked all around in disbelief. He and the rest of his family were taken aback.

"Keep in mind that Z was always a hypothetical. It was never what we think of as a 'lost' city, seen once and then forgotten, waiting only to be rediscovered. It was a theory of Daddy's, inspired by, but not always presumed to be, the city of the 1753 account."

"That's what we now refer to as Manuscript 512, after its designation in the Brazilian Library," said Skip.

"We'll come back to that in a minute. But Daddy's idea was that there may have been one more advanced civilization in South America that had not even been found yet. Since it would be the last to be discovered, he referred to it as Z, the last letter of the alphabet. What we never thought of was that it might just be a new, undiscovered location for a previously known people, in this case the Inca. And when you think about it, it makes sense that in the last days of the conquest, some of them may have escaped subjugation at the hands of the Spanish, moved as far away as possible, and rebuilt their cities and their culture."

It certainly made sense to Skip. There was a similar theory that a band of Aztec had fled north from Mexico and settled in what is now the Southwestern United States. But as he looked at the little village that ran through the forest down to the narrow river, it hardly seemed like the remnants of a great civilization. "So, where is this city? I don't even see evidence of ruins."

Jack smiled and waved his hand outward, to the landscape beyond. "See those jungle-choked hills? Incan temples!"

As Skip took a closer look at the nearest one, just behind the village, he thought he could make out stone blocks peeking out from under the foliage, thinner on that side than elsewhere on the steep slopes. And a dark spot, high up, might indicate the entrance to a natural cave, or fancied as a man-made doorway.

Jack continued. "The original refugees, five hundred years ago, did indeed build a city here, to rival Machu Picchu. Its peak period lasted almost fifty years. But according to stories that have been passed down, conflicts with the existing tribes in the area, and disease spreading upriver from the Portuguese explorers eventually took their toll. The survivors found it better to let the jungle bury their grand buildings and temples, and live a more simple village life, thereby blending in better with the locals."

"How do you know this? Have you done any excavation?"

"I have indeed, many years ago now. With the help of a few of my friends among the people, I have peeled back layers enough on a few of the mounds to get a general idea of the size of the city and the purpose of a few of the buildings. We even uncovered a doorway, and made our way a short distance inside." He glanced down the hill, to a group of villagers who were eyeing them warily. "Of course, not everyone approved. Then or now. And that is another reason I have been here all these years. Once having learned these people' secrets, I was not allowed to leave."

"A policy which has carried over to this day," said Killa. "As the eyes and ears of the People to the outside world, it is I who decides who from beyond is taken in, who is allowed to stay, and who must leave."

Skip was glad they were on Killa's good side. At least for now. He hoped their luck would last. He also hoped to get a better look at those temples hidden beneath the mounds, if the vegetation hadn't grown back over too much, and any passage or stairway hadn't been totally reclaimed by the jungle. Better still would be a peek inside that doorway. That, and the pictures to go with it, would go a long way to add credibility to what was shaping up to be an article bordering on the fantastic.