IV

The project's time teleporter stood in a small, specially-built room off from the main room.

It was a similar make and model to the university's own teleporter pads upstairs that we had arrived on. The pads here were raised slightly further off the floor to accommodate the extra hardware of the temporal-field generator underneath them. Anubis went to the control console and started powering it up while Ishtar pulled three long brown and white cotton tunics out of a store cupboard which we pulled on over our heads so that they covered our own clothes.

"Yucatan - at this time - is primitive enough at this time that ninety-percent of the population are farmers, craftsmen or both," said Zeus, straightening his. "They'll "recognise" any material they've never seen before - like poly-fibre clothing - instantly. But at the same time, it's pointless for us to try to dress like they do, as we're obviously strangers anyway."

"Some early societies will interpret that as hostile," said Ishtar.

"Yes," said Zeus. "So these - different, but made from something they know - are a good compromise. We don't blend in, but at the same time, we don't look ludicrously out of place."

"I understand," I said. I removed my helmet and gloves and passed them to Amelia Hathor, but I kept my wristcom on, hidden under my tunic sleeve, and my Unigun and shockstick on my belt. I was not going back into the past to look for potential murder suspects empty handed.

"Take this as well," said Anubis, handing me a small black plastic cylinder with a single red button at one end. It was small enough to hide in the palm of my hand. "Emergency temporal signal beacon. I'm sure you've done this kind of thing before, but if you get into any serious difficulties, just hit it once. Myself and the team will backstep as close as we can to your location within two minutes."

"Just try not to get sacrificed until then," said Catherine Sobek.

"For the last time, that isn't funny," said Zeus, who was emptying his pockets of anything futuristic, including his ship keys, phonecom and several pre-autographed pictures of himself. "They do not sacrifice people that often. They're not Aztecs. They're Tutal Xiu Maya."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," I said. "How long have they been back there?"

Ishtar was coming with us as the project's regulations were that backsteppers always went in groups of three. I could have used ChronOps prerogative to overrule this, but it was a sensible rule and - for a first trip to a new time and place - it would be good to have someone who'd been there before. I would have preferred Ra to Zeus; who obviously considered himself more adventurer than academic, but Ra had chosen to stay, saying he imagined that, as he was the last person to see Wei'To alive, Mirabi would want to question him in detail

"Two hours," said Anubis, looking at his watchcom. "But they're due to return in forty-five minutes, so they should be wrapping up. Anyway, good to go when you are."

"AG," I said. I checked I could reach my Unigun easily and stepped onto the transporter pad. Zeus and Ishtar joined me.

"Co-ordinates set. Standard arrival location," said Anubis, saying the steps out loud, just as he would have been taught in the Free Martian military. "Dispatching travellers... Now."

He pressed the transport button and white light swirled around us as we backstepped into the past.

_ _ _ _ _

We arrived in a small clearing in the middle of a rainforest.

Tall mahogany, sapodilla and breadnut trees rose around us, with vines and creepers hanging from the branches. As my eyes rematerialised, they took in a dozen different shades of green. One of the nice things about making a co-ordinates jump was that we didn't have our feet landing hard on the teleporter pad at the other end as gravity kicked in. Instead our shoes sank easily into the soft twigs and leafy mulch that covered the forest floor. Mushrooms grew on the tree trunks between the ferns. Spiders and centipedes scurried away from our feet as we materialised and monkeys and birds called in the distance. After the coolly temperate air conditioning of the university, the air here was a shock. The jungle was boiling and the air was steamy with humidity. Everything - including us - was wet and sticky almost instantly. I'd been under the canopy in rainforests before, but this looked to be a particularly unpleasant one.

"OK. We made it," said Ishtar, checking his watchcom, which - in line with the project's rules on not taking anything obviously futuristic back to the past with them - was well disguised as a rather chunky wooden bracelet that looked like it could have been carved from any of the trees around us. "Welcome to 1420AD."

"As we always do," said Zeus. "Follow me, Detective. The city's just through here."

"1420?" I said to Ishtar, as we walked behind Zeus through the jungle. A rough natural path ran between the trees and several large rocky outcroppings and it was obvious from the footprints that the Project members had come this way before. "I thought you said the books were burnt in 1562?"

"Oh, they are," said Ishtar. "Or they were. They will be. But by that time, they'll be scattered in different settlements all over the peninsular. This was - this is - the best time we could be sure of finding lots of them in one place."

"And that place," said Zeus, pushing aside some foliage ahead of us, "is right here."

We stepped out of the jungle into a larger clearing, far bigger than the one we'd arrived in. It was filled with an ancient Mesoamerican city. Four tall and narrow stepped pyramids made of grey stone rose up above the treetops, with long staircases leading up their sides. Smaller stone buildings covered with carvings and hieroglyphics stood among them, surrounded by houses with red clay walls and thatched roofs. Bare dirt streets ran between them, lined with houses and market stalls. It seemed to be about two o'clock in the afternoon and the city glowed in the sunlight.

"Welcome to the Mayan kingdoms, Detective," said Zeus, with a long, sweeping arm gesture, his history documentary presenter side coming through. "Welcome to Tutal Xiu."

"The lost capital of the Tutal Xiu people," said Ishtar, making a similar arm gesture. Some of Zeus's showmanship was evidently rubbing off on him.

The city was far from huge or well populated, but the streets were busy as we walked through them. The locals looked up at us casually as we passed and then just as casually looked away again, resuming whatever they were doing. Zeus and Ishtar smiled and nodded and said hello in the local language, which I later learnt was Yucatec Maya, but it was obviously that they were well used to seeing complete strangers dressed in identical tunics here.

The locals themselves were dressed in long loincloths, folded and knotted around their waists, and tall, fantastic headdresses, some in the shape of animals, and decorated with flowers, feathers and gemstones. Some of the men wore jaguar skins, with large rings stretching their earlobes. The women wore sleeveless tunics and similar headdresses with their hair wound through them and decorated with cloth, but - unlike almost every other ancient culture I had ever visited - their headdresses were actually smaller and less elaborately decorated than the men's. Everyone was wearing simple straw sandals and the children - just like nearly every other ancient culture I had ever visited - were happily running about and laughing naked.

A large crowd of people, adults and children, were not moving, but were standing at the foot of one of the pyramids and watching something that was happening next to it, alternately cheering, booing and shouting advice. As we got closer, I could see that a long rectangular stone court was laid out next to the pyramid and two teams of four men were playing a ball game.

Two stone hoops were fixed to the side walls halfway down the court, which made me think at first that it was something like basketball, but the hoops were fixed vertically rather than horizontally. Also unlike basketball, where everyone had full freedom to move around the court, both teams were carefully staying in their halves, facing each other and bouncing the ball back and forth. I didn't have a clue how either side was going to get it through one of the hoops, as the ball was small, brown and heavy, and because the main moves seemed to be bouncing it back using your chest and shoulders. As we watched, one half of the supporters cheered as a player dived forwards feet first and slid down almost fully on his side to knock the ball back over the invisible line between the two hoops with his hip before it could bounce on the floor. Far from being basketball's long lost ancestor, the game looked more like doubles tennis, and I tried to imagine the two teams playing in low-gravity at Mars Wimbledon.

I realised Zeus and Ishtar had stopped to watch as well and was about to suggest we kept moving when the player who had just saved suddenly noticed us. Jumping back to his feet, he ignored his congratulating teammates and dashed to the edge of the court where he spoke quickly to another man who was sitting down. This must have been one of the team's substitutes as he instantly leapt up and went to take the player's place on the court. The player wove through the crowd and came quickly across the street towards us.

"Wilech ma'alob jugador k'áak' le wóoliso'," said Zeus, as the player reached us. I regretted leaving my helmcom and its auto-translation program behind.

"Talk in English, for Kukulkan's sake!" said the player, in perfect 30th century English. "There are certain things I'd prefer my people not to overhear. For starters, what the hax is he doing here?"

The player was dark haired and a head shorter than me. He was ethnically Mayan and was dressed in local clothing, including an impressive green and red feathered headdress and even had the lobe-stretching earrings. But from his preferred language and vocabulary, it was obvious he was one of the backsteppers we'd come looking for.

"This is Domingo Xibalba from Yucatan University, Detective," said Ishtar. "He's our cultural expert for this part of the project."

"Sorry," said Zeus, switching to English and lowering his voice. "We've got a problem in the present. You all need to come back now..."

"Never mind that. You can't bring unauthorised people back here, Zeus. You know the rules."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to make an exception," I said. I pulled back my sleeve for a second, so he could see my wristcom and the ChronOps logo printed on it. "Detective Erik Midgard. Chronological Operations Agency."

Domingo Xibalba - who'd been staring wide eyed at my wristcom - looked up in shock.

"What is going on?"

"Professor Wei'To's dead," said Ishtar.

"What?!"

"Someone stabbed him," I said. "I'm sorry to ruin the game, but you need to come back to the present now. Along with whoever else is here."

"But who would...? Oh. Yes. Of course. Yes. They're in the temple," said Xibalba, getting a hold of himself. He glanced up at the sun and I realised he was judging the time from its position in the sky. "They should be just about finished. Follow me."

We left the ball game - Xibalba's team seemed to be winning even without him - and hurried through the streets to one of the stone buildings. Two statues that seemed to be part human, part snake and part jaguar stood on either side of the steps up to its door. The walls were covered with amazingly detailed, intricate carvings of the sun and the moon, monsters, gods, serpents and animals and I wondered again how it was that so many ancient cultures could produce works of art as intricate and beautiful as this, but still never really get to grips with the wheel, computers or indoor plumbing. Xibalba hurried up the steps and led us in.

Inside, the temple was dim and shadowed. Candles flickered in the corners and the air was scented with burning incense. But the walls were covered with painted murals, showing figures very much like the book illustrations Ishtar had shown us in the present, but in full colour. They showed processions, battles and celebrations. Three local men, with particularly impressive headdresses that almost brushed the stone ceiling, were talking with the other two backsteppers we were looking for. One was a tall, thin man with an angular nose and short, tightly curled brown hair, who was smiling and talking to the locals with obvious flattery and a lot of expressive hand gestures, so much so that he didn't notice us come in. The other, who was about the same age as the other teaching assistants, was shorter and plumper, with brown eyes and short dark hair. He did notice us coming in and blinked in surprise, before seeing from Domingo Xibalba's expression that something was wrong.

"...Ya'ab Yuumbo'otik u k'iinil," the academic was saying.

"Uh... Doctor," said the teaching assistant, touching his arm.

"...Ts'o'ok u sido jump'éel bino'on xíimbal maravillosa yéetel Kexi' k'a'," the doctor continued, ignoring him.

"J-ts'aak yaj!" said the teaching assistant, tugging on his sleeve.

"Ba'ax ka, Bernard?" said the academic, looking around. "No. I mean "What, Bernard?"." Then he noticed the rest of us. "David? What in the name of...?"

He said something else to the locals, presumably along the lines 'please excuse me for a moment', and hurried over to us. Through one of the side doors, I noticed a room packed with Mayan books.

"What in Darwin's name is going on?" said the doctor, as he reached us. "Who is this?"

"Nice to see you too, Alan," said Zeus. "And no, before you ask, I haven't forgotten the regulations. This is Detective Midgard from ChronOps. Detective, this is Doctor Alan Baldr."

"What? ChronOps?" said Dr. Alan Baldr. He looked at me. "What is happening?"

"I'm afraid it's already happened," I said, showing him my wristcom under my sleeve. "Professor Wei'To has been murdered."

"What?!" said the teaching assistant.

"What?" said Dr. Baldr, his mouth hanging open. "Henry? But... "

They both fell into shocked silence for a moment and I sighed inwardly. It was a bad thing to admit, but delivering the news of deaths was one of the worst parts of my job, simply because it was boring and repetitive. You tried to be sympathetic, but you saw exactly the same reactions and were asked the same questions over and over again.

"W... Who was it?" said the teaching assistant.

"I don't know yet, but we're going to find out," I said. "And who are you?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm Bernard. Bernard Baal," said the teaching assistant. "I'm Dr. Baldr's assistant, but... Professor Wei'To?"

"It's true," said Ishtar.

"What in Darwin's name happened?" said Baldr. "Where were Anubis and the guards?"

"They were all downstairs unpacking," said Zeus. "They'd only just got back from the restocking trip."

"I know this must be a shock and I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," I said, "but I need you to come back to the present with us right away."

"What? No. Not yet," said Baldr. "We've got dozens of things still to do..."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm afraid you're going to have to," I said.

"But I can't leave yet," said Baldr. He gestured discreetly towards the priests, who were talking amongst themselves. "I haven't even spoken to the Ahaw. And Huehuetlotl is offering to hold a farewell banquet in our honour..."

"For crying out loud, Alan," said Zeus, under his breath.

"Don't take that tone with me, David! Just because you don't like the food here..."

"This isn't negotiable, Doctor," I said. "This is murder investigation and I need to interview you properly. You are going back to the present right now."

"But..." said Baldr.

"Just tell them there's an urgent problem that requires your attention and that you'll be back in ten minutes," I said. "You've got a time machine. You can easily keep the promise."

Baldr hesitated, opened his mouth to continue arguing, then shut it and nodded. He and Xibalba quickly took their leave from the priests, who accepted his explanation with good grace. We left the temple and the six of us walked quickly out of the city and back into the forest, making sure we weren't being followed by any curious children, and forestepped back to the present.