49 Chispa’s Plan

The next morning we were visited by Horse and Sartre. They first approached Jack.

“Your little minx didn’t please the boss last night,” Sartre said. “Here’s the bill.” He slugged Jack in the stomach five or six times, causing Jack to groan with pain.

Then Horse said, “No water for twenty-four hours.”

Jack groaned out even louder.

They left him, bent over and dry heaving, then came to me.

“The boss wants to see you,” Sartre said.

They cut me loose from the rope, leaving my hands still cuffed behind my back. Barefoot and dressed only in underwear, I stumbled several times as they took me to another strange stucco-covered building outside of the walled house.

The interior of the building was just a large room filled with long wooden pews with a lectern up front. Chispa was casually dressed, sitting up on the dais to the side of the lectern, holding a water bottle. Horse and Sartre dropped me onto my side on the front bench.

“Wait outside,” Chispa said to them. After they had left, he took a drink of water, then said to me, “Sit up.”

It took some maneuvering, but I righted myself.

“This is our chapel,” he said. “It’s where we worship.”

“Worship what? You?”

He smiled. “No. This is the Church of Sam Cook.”

“What are you going to do to us?”

His brow fell. “That’s a little complicated, Michael. You see, it’s not really ‘us,’ since your path departs from the rest of your group, who will be absorbed by the colony, taken in as brothers and sisters of the cause.”

“They’ll never join you or your cause.”

“Not happily, of course, but they will. It’s inevitable. You, on the other hand, have a different journey.” He looked at me. “Would you like some water?”

I didn’t say anything. I knew he was just toying with me.

He put the cap back on the bottle and set it down. “All right, let’s talk about your journey. Dr. Sam taught us that tradition and rituals are a vital part of any culture. If you want to change a culture, you start by changing their traditions.

“Rituals are a powerful form of tradition. Being native Peruvian, my mind is naturally attracted to the rituals of my forebears, the Incas. The Incas were an incredibly advanced civilization, contributing far more to modern civilization than most people give them credit for. To me, the most fascinating part of their culture was their religious and esoteric rituals.”

“The Incan priests were savages,” I said. “Dr. Sam would vomit if he knew what you were doing in his name.”

Chispa’s expression turned fierce. “Speak his name again, and I will cut out your tongue and feed it to your girlfriend.” He calmed himself. “The Incas were a progressive civilization. As they spread throughout South America, they would adopt or absorb other tribes and civilizations into them, much like I am doing with the Electroclan.

“Some of these tribes joined willingly. Others, like yours, not so much. From the latter the Incas learned that to guarantee the assimilation and allegiance of a new tribe, they would sacrifice the tribe’s king or leader in front of his own people. This was a demonstration of the Incas’ power and the desperation of the conquered tribe’s situation. This powerful ritual was very effective in ensuring complete and full allegiance to the new tribe.

“This, Michael, is your path. Tonight, at midnight, you will be sacrificed in the sacred ceremonial grove on the ancient sacrificial stone, an offering to our god, Dr. Sam, marking the beginning of a new era for the colony and a new beginning for the Electroclan. The ritual you will experience was created from traditions borrowed from both the Incan and Aztec cultures, as well as some of our own additions.” He looked at me sharply. “It’s a shame that you won’t be alive to see all that we accomplish in our quest, but you can rest in the peace of knowing that your friends were a part of making a difference in this world.”

I was speechless, my heart pounding heavily.

“In keeping with ancient tradition, until the time of your sacrifice, you will be uncuffed and given ample food and drink. No more torture. No more pain.”

“What will happen to Taylor?”

“I don’t know. I know she’ll hate me, of course. I also know that in time she’ll forgive me. Perhaps, in time, she will be one of my wives.”

“Wives?”

“All great leaders have more than one woman,” he said. “Look it up. It’s the natural course.”

“Where exactly would I look this up?”

He grinned. “Of course, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

For the first time in my life, I felt fully defeated.

“Here,” he said, again lifting the bottle. “Have some cold water.”

This time I drank.