Ice Shock(41)

I stop chuckling. “It’s nothing. Look, why aren’t I allowed to meet people?”

He looks uncomfortable. “I’m not supposed to say anything. There are some tensions in the city. Montoyo and the Executive need to be sure that you aren’t approached.”

“Tensions? What do you mean? Who’s gonna be approaching me?”

Benicio grimaces and shrugs. He picks his next words with precision.

“There are people in Ek Naab who aren’t happy with the way the Executive is running things. Who question the decision to keep what we know a secret.”

“What you know … about 2012?”

“2012, yeah … what we call here the ‘Baktun Problem.’”

“Baktun, as in the final date of the Long Count Calendar?”

Patiently, Benicio says, “Baktun, yes, as in December twenty-second, 2012, the date that the galactic superwave hits. The Baktun Problem is what we’re calling the whole solution to that. Beginning with the contents of your codex, Josh, the Book of Ix.”

I frown. “And some people aren’t happy about what the Executive is doing—why?”

“There are a few people who think that we should be working with the top scientists in the world to solve this problem.”

“What do you think?” I ask him.

“Well, I’m with Montoyo,” Benicio says, facing me with a smile. “Of course! Montoyo—and the majority of the Executive—feel that unless we need help from outside, we should solve the Baktun Problem within Ek Naab. After all, that’s what we have lived to do. From the beginning. That’s the reason for the foundation of Ek Naab.”

“The majority of the Executive … but not all six of them?”

He hestitates. “Not all.”

I shake my head in wonder. Politics isn’t something that really interests me. But I can see that if some people in Ek Naab are starting to question the whole basis of the secrecy, it could be a big problem.

“And that’s not the only tension.”

“What else?”

Benicio sips his drink and seems to think long and hard before he speaks again. “Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” His eyes almost glaze over as he stares into his glass, trying to hide the fact that his cheeks have reddened. “In fact,” he adds with an embarrassed laugh, “this is more or less the kind of conversation that Montoyo wants to prevent. So, guess I’d better stop …”

“Wow,” I say. “It’s like a police state here!”

“These are difficult times,” he admits.

“Is that why Ixchel left? Or was it just to avoid me?”

I notice that Benicio is tense too; he cracks a grin that seems almost forced. “Ixchel? Nah … it was pretty much the thought of having an arranged marriage to you.”

I hardly know Ixchel—we only spent a couple of hours together walking through the jungle as she guided me to Becan. And I wasn’t exactly at my best. In fact, I was a mess—it was just hours after Camila died. But hearing Benicio say those words actually stings. Especially since I know he’s her good pal. Jokes aside, that must be what she feels.

It’s not nice to feel you’ve been judged and found wanting. But like Benicio, I force myself to smirk, like it’s hilarious. “Thanks, pal. So … did you find her?” When I met Benicio in Oxford, I was so excited by the whole flying-over-the-city thing that I forgot to ask that question. But now I remember that Benicio had been leaving to search for Ixchel, my last time in Ek Naab.

“Yeah, I did. I tracked her down in Veracruz.”

Veracruz! My ears prick up. I try to sound casual.

“Which town?”

“I mean, the city of Veracruz itself.”

The postcards … All mailed from Veracruz state.

Things are starting to make sense.

Ixchel must have sent them—she’s the only person I know in that state. What the heck is she playing at?

Benicio tells me that Ixchel is “working, would you believe it? All her life she’s been this excellent student; now she wants to wait tables for tourists in Veracruz.”

“Why Veracruz? It’s not exactly the ritziest part of Mexico.”

“That’s why,” he replies. “She hates Cancun and all the Riviera Maya.”

“But all that is really nice!”

“She prefers ‘real Mexico.’ Which is strange for a girl who never lived in ‘real Mexico,’ but that’s Ixchel.”

“Great,” I say with heavy sarcasm. “‘Excellent student’ … the type of girl who prefers ‘real Mexico’ to fancy hotels and powdery beaches. And this is the girl you all want me to marry? She sounds ideal.”