Part: 1

The First—Ron Maliden

The word hero is split into tiny sprinkles of hope. If a person looks deep with a telescope and an un-critiquing mind, they might find that hero in the machismo of Ron Maliden.

He's a clerk, which means that the most profoundly interesting thing he does is make copies. His office is on the third floor of the Print Ford building, which does a lot of paperwork for the underhandedness of car salesmen. It's spacious but many people work there, making space non-existent. Privacy is a matter of who can get away from the place faster. It's filled with little plastic carpeted blue walls. No one likes the tiny things because some of the taller people like Ron can look right over them and see what other people are trying to hide behind them. A bunch of people got in the habit of putting up skeletons and pumpkins and spider webs along the walls for the coming holiday.

One of them is named Lucy and she wears glasses and she sticks gum in her hair every day, then cuts it off. It's a tendency that has gifted her with frizzy blonde hair like a rock stars, except she listens to country music. Ron has a keen interest in her because despite her "sticky" problem, she's pretty.

Another is named Ruben and he gets off on using the company laptop to send porn e-mails to as many people as he could, including some of the heads of office.

The third is a computer geek, with hair all over his face combed straight down, who likes to hide his eyes and play video games at any given moment when he thinks no one is looking. Ron started to get the bothersome notion that this geek, Alfred, does more work than him, despite that temporary distraction.

The fourth is a manager, a man named Iggerson, or known only to others as "Iggy", who is fat and tall and walks with a cane. He smiles a lot and bothers people at their booths, as the company decided to call them. Ron suspected that the "your own office" in the add was just a trick to lure a person into the job. Why anyone would want a crappy job like this was beyond him.

Ron saw him coming around some bend. The booths were so intermingled, the wobbly fellow had to zigzag his way past. He stopped right in front of Ron, who was looking at his computer screen at the time. The e-mail he was looking at was conforming a well-known suspicion. "Ron, my man!" said the cheery manager.

"What do you want, Iggy?" asked Ron, instantly annoyed. He didn't even turn to look at him. You didn't need peripheral vision to see him.

"Trenches!"

This distracted him. "What?"

"There's trenches everywhere!"

"You mean like in the war?" asked Ron, who decided to play along.

"I meant in this office, so full of deep holes and people hiding behind them, waiting for the enemy."

Ron began to put away things into a small box. "Well, I'll be one less soldier."

"Well, wait a minute there, big guy," said Iggerson. "You can't lose hope in this….."

Ron turned the screen, so Iggerson could take a good look at it. On it was a letter, of the usual kind that started with "We're sorry to inform you that…." And they were so sorry to let him know he was let go, sorry to say that they couldn't give him his last check due to some error in the system that had meant to send him the e-mail three weeks ago, sorry about the criminal report that was run on his behalf for trespassing (for the past three weeks).

"Ouch," said Iggerson, "No hard feelings, I suppose. Now, off you go. Ey, ey, that's a company stapler!"

Lucy was looking at Ron with a worried expression on her face. She had recently cut a piece of her hair and was throwing it and the gum on it away. She interrupted on his behalf. The blue and red stapler, afore mentioned, was an old gift from her. "I gave him that," said Lucy.

It was clear to Ron that the stapler was going to be an issue. He didn't want to punch Iggy in the face. He'd been a cheerful, if not imposing, boss. Ron had a box with six picture frames in it. All the pictures were of him and Lucy sharing a drink at the company yearly Bowl-A-Thon. Ron wasn't an expert at bowling, so he usually kept to the sidelines. It took Ron two seconds to figure out that Iggerson was jealous of him and Lucy. The first of those seconds was spent figuring out how to dodge an incoming hot liquid that Iggy had thrown at his face in a fit of jealousy. The second was spent looking at a white dress shirt (his only white dress shirt) that had just been ruined by the tar-like coffee. His face had been missed completely.

"Shithead!" cursed Iggerson and walked off.

Lucy was nervous and conflicted because she didn't want to lose her job and she didn't want to lose some unknown affection from Ron.

Ron gave her a look that wasn't at all too friendly but which changed to a smile. "Hey," said Ron, "What's up with the weekly?"

This was Ron's conversation-starter with her. At this point, it was used to clear the arid air of uneasiness. "Just, you know, the weather and stuff," said Lucy, meekly.

She seemed to want to dig herself a hole and crawl in it. Perhaps Iggerson had been correct; the place was full of trenches and Iggerson had helped to dig them up himself. Ron, in a display of how hurt he was, left the stapler on the desk.

It was his last day at the Print Ford building.

He walked out, with a big black coffee stain on his white shirt revealing his misfortune like a target. He buttoned up his overcoat and put on his black tie but the two colors were distinct and it only made him look more ridiculous. It was California, however, and the day had started out sunny and it could still work out for the better.

He walked in his black dress shoes across a round carpet with the letters FP stitched in the middle in red. "Festive," someone said. It was Ruben and he was talking about Ron's old work uniform and new Halloween costume. He had just got to the lobby, where they waited for an elevator.

"Right," said Ron. "I got your mail yesterday. Girl looked familiar."

"Yeah," said Ruben, "It's Misty from the fourth floor at Operations. Had to do a little investigative research for that."

"You mean like when you climbed up that tree?"

"No," said Ruben, "Nothing like that. I got a vertical zoom camera for that now. Technology is a friend of us men." Ruben meant us "perverts." "You should check out what I got for you recently. From my private collection."

"Ah," said Ron, "Too late for that." Ron tapped the box.

Ruben had noticed but he had thought differently. "Oh, I thought you had taken your pictures down because Lucy had told you about us. Fired, eh? Tough break. Could be hard to get a new job. You know, the economy."

"You and Lucy are what now?" Ron asked, curious.

"We're doing it," Ruben said, matter-of-factly. "Could be a bit of a shock; happened not so long ago at the party. Hey, what happened to you, then?"

"Sister had a baby," said Ron, "I had to take her to the hospital. Her husband happened to be sleeping with another woman at the time."

Ruben was wondering why the elevator wasn't coming up. "Oh, right, broken…" Ruben said. "Let's take the stairs, I'll tell you about me and Luce."

Ron went along, feeling that the sunny day had betrayed him.

Ruben said, "Oh, yeah, love Luce, she's good at all the naughty bits. Of course, I like Maria better. You seen her around, booth thirty-seven, retypes all those Engineering reports. Maria knows what's going on, doesn't spend all this time in the bathroom 'preparing.'"

Ron had to concentrate hard to keep up. "You're dating both?"

"Dating?" Ruben asked, as if he was afraid of the word, "Oh, no, none of that, just straight to the sex. Oh, yeah, you got the flirting thing, the before-the-sex, as I like to call it but yeah, I got a good leash on both. Lucy said something about not even wanting to look at her old crush. I told her I didn't care; it was too much crap involved. Of course, they don't know. I imagine they'd kill me. Lucy would probably scalp me; you know her scissors thing."

It seemed to Ron that not every word had cut him deeply. He had, after all, mentioned another girl from time to time.

They broke into the streets at a stalling pace because Ruben wanted to keep assailing Ron with humorous anecdotes about his sex life. Ron interrupted him and said, "Oh, shit, I'm going to miss my bus. Guess I'll talk to you some other time, Ruben."

Ruben went along the same street and turned a corner, and Ron kept along the avenue until he came to a coffee shop, where he decided to stop for a cup. It had been a bad day but that didn't stop the animal of ritual from rearing its ugly head.

It was blue, everywhere. The walls, the cups, the signature backpacks and even the menus were a shade of blue. Ron came up to the counter, where he was attended sourly by a teenage girl vent on the destruction of her boyfriend, the coffee maker. "What, what is it, old man?"

"He's a customer, Sherry!"

"Shut-up, and make the coffee!"

"He hasn't ordered yet!"

"That's not your problem, is it?"

"Yes, it is!"

Teenage angst was more about being right than being correct. The boy should have known that but he had a terrible sense of girls. Ron said, "I actually don't want a coffee."

This distracted the girl, who put a hand on her hip and looked over to Ron. Her head snapped back at him and she was staring at him with surprise. "Er, this is a coffee shop."

"I want you two to stop fighting," Ron said.

"Er," said the girl, "What?"

"I'll pay you twice what the coffee costs for you two to get along."

"Well," said the girl, calmed by something in his demeanor "You do already have enough of it on your shirt." Her mood seemed to have changed to one of considerable confusion. It happens sometimes that one person can change the lives of others by being a person. No one wants to be witness to some pointless fight. Fights in relationships accumulate. Perhaps, the youths would fight again and with more propensity but then at that moment, Ron had subtracted a fight. Perhaps, it would make the difference between one child or two or; a separation or a wedding; a divorce or a lifetime of happiness. The now was what was important and just then, they weren't fighting anymore.

In fact after Ron had paid the girl for what some would consider nothing, she offered him coffee for free. Being one that couldn't possible turn down a generous offer from a beautiful green-eyed girl with long blonde hair, Ron accepted with a "Thanks, honey." It seemed the air of unnecessary tension had left the room and what remained was an abundance of unnecessary blue.

It was a few minutes after this that a blinding sun began to set. Ron hadn't realized it because he'd been so busy thinking up an excuse. His sister would call and ask about his day. This thought was worrying his mind but another quickly set in. It was a smell like burning bread. It was a crispy smell like before it turns completely black, well-done and sweet. "What is that?" Asked Ron, his head turning away from a newspaper he was pretending to read while thinking of his sister's soon-to-come remarks.

"It's a French Croissant," said the girl, whose name was Janet. This was revealed after some lovers quarrel turned conversational with her and her boyfriend.

It was the beginning of the end but first….

…a U.S. Navy radar system failed to notice a sinkhole. A submarine was lost. Were it not for Captain Edgar's quick maneuvering and loud sirens of alert, a whole fleet of ships would have gone under. It was like the sea had begun to drain in a whirlpool. Fifty yards away, they could see a thundering mist, the after effect of mountains of sea water splashing in on itself. He was the captain of the U.S.S. Tyler. After avoiding the stupid thing, he made the call to Washington. "Captain, this is mission control, calling the Tyler

"General, this is Captain Edgar," Captain Edgar replied in a hurry, "We have some unexpected turbulence near the equator. It might just be the movement of Tetonic plates."

"We didn't ask you, Captain. What can you tell us is happening over there? We lost a valuable ship and its crew. What the hell is going on!"

"The crew is spreading rumors that the earth is splitting open. There seems to be a strong current forming, sir. It's pushing the ship in its direction. However, if we stray clear of it the sea calms as if there were nothing ahead. It's amazing that the submarines radar didn't notice it before."

"What's your definite conclusion about what's going on, Captain?" It was the voice of the president. It was a dark voice and it had a tinge of sincere respect hidden in it.

"Well, Mr. President," the captain said, "I'd say there's either a huge hole in the bottom of the ocean, pushing water down it at a distressing rate or the earth is splitting the Ecuator and its pushing a whole continent down with it."

"You mean sideways, Captain," the president corrected, a hint of worry staining his voice.

"No, Mr. President" said the Captain, trying to keep his voice straight, "I mean down like a hooker."

Although the president didn't necessarily argue the comment, he did think it was somewhat inappropriate and raised an eyebrow at his current general.

"Sailor's tongue," said General Waft, a short man with a white mustache. He was addressing the United States Defense Department, which consisted of an overwhelming number of people in fancy blue and black dress suits drinking coffee around a shiny black table. They sat on spinning chairs but this was unnecessary since they spent most of their time being serious.

The button on a speaker went off and the voice of the Captain was lost.

A soldier in an Air Force uniform handed some paperwork to the President and the table erupted in silent conversation. The young man in uniform disappeared like a ghost. Others like him were running transmissions and communications in corners of the room and no one ever noticed him.

Finally, the secretary of Defense spoke, a Gordon James, "Departmental Research Indicates a variant of the Typhoon, El Chico, which wiped out three-hundred thousand houses in China, only this thing isn't moving. We have any experts on earth and its movements?"

None of them seemed to have any clue what he was asking for. They talked among themselves about getting someone or knowing someone. Retired General Ford Watson, a tall and bald man spoke up first before the rest of them, "We have information on a respected scholar from the University of Irvine, in California, a man that has been studying the earth and, in particular, the movement of Tetonic plates in California."

"How fast can we get this man here, Watson?" asked the President, impatiently.

"He's currently in Mexico, sir," said Watson, nervously, "The quickest we can get him here is in a week."

"I want this man here by tonight, tomorrow the latest!" Snapped the President, "Blue, get my plane ready, I'm paying a visit to Africa."

This upset most of the people on the table, "But, sir," General Waft said, "That's where the earth is splitting!"

"Don't worry, General, you're coming with me. Get this shit done people and keep in contact with us about the progress. I want it fixed yesterday!"

The president got up. Everyone got up and saluted.

He gave them a fake-salute back and stormed out.

No one saw…

…an elderly gentleman with a cane, the Surgeon General, Donald Waltz, walk to one corner of the room with a phone in hand.

He was speaking to him. "They're going to get an expert on the movement of the earth," said Waltz, coughing slightly.

"Good," said he, "I will send this man a welcoming committee. His name?"

"They didn't say; the president was rather upset."

"Who knows him?"

"General Watson."

"Interesting," said he, "Keep me posted. As to that name…I will be lenient with your punishment; you did good, old man."

"Punishment? I did as you said, sir."

"Eh-eh," said a dark and ominous voice, "No need for that. Complaints will only make it worse."

"As you say, sir."

"Good."

A dark figure in a black hood pulled him away from the room.
It had begun.

Explaining rocks to people was like trying to remind them of their most annoying memory. They didn't want to know. Some showed interest in the girls across the room, sixteen chairs back and were failing his class so badly that they might as well have not even taken it. It's ironic because the pretty girls were passing, mostly due to their cheating tactics but this was an improvement to not trying at all.

Dr. Elijah Rento was distracted by a recent trip to Mexico. He had begun to stop babbling in his classes and, instead, to cancel them altogether. He didn't read off the book like regular teachers, so must students appreciated taking his class, being that the tests were strictly note-related. It was a reason why so many students took his class and partially the same reason why so many students failed it. It was an amazing thing to watch students run to a class without any books involved; it was like they had an unnatural fear of the things.

The room was cleared of any voice, except his and he was talking about rocks in pyramids. "Who knows," he asked, addressing the class "What kind of rocks were recently found in the Pyramid of the Suns?"

A moment passed in desperate silence. It was the type that some teachers were accustomed to because no one knew the answer. However, there were a couple of students in the front who knew, one in particular wearing trendy spectacles, whose name was Amanda Tran, said out loud, "White rocks."

Most people in the class found this to be funny. It got a good chuckle.

Dr. Renton raised an eyebrow and said, "Very good, Ms. Tran." The class grew silent. "It's not rare to see formations of rocks changing color over periods of time due to movements of the earth or lingering weather problems. However, in this pyramid, what permeates is a strong tropical environment and is not reason enough to change the color of the rocks white. More than likely, the white rocks they found represent the encrusted bone structure of an Aztec that met his demise at the temple."

This brought about cheers from a crowd in the back.

"Buried into the stone of the pyramid?" asked the other student, whose scholastic achievement equaled that of Tran. He was a taller fellow with black hair and a tendency to wear rock-band T-shirts and torn jeans. Fernando Rodriguez had stood out in the college as the most influential minority in California. He was taking his class to finish up on his second bachelor's degree in Chicano studies. He looked interested and worried about the answer.

"Me and a few colleagues will be researching that particular question on our visit to the area in a few days. It turns out the government has taken a deep interest in these rocks and has provided us with funding to take a small expedition to investigate the findings. The Mexican consulate has agreed to let each teacher bring three of its students along. Unfortunately, the rich leaguers on top, have already chosen one of the students for us, more than likely a clubby boy from UCLA, a fraternity jerk. It happens to me all the time," the professor went on, getting to the point, "However, Fernando here brought up a good point and to those here who didn't know, their essay on the evolution of species in respect to research of carbon dating will be considered for review. The two students with the best essays will win an all expense paid trip to Mexico to visit the Pyramid of the Suns."

Some students cheered; others were put off by it. Tran and Rodriguez, who were sitting side by side, were smiling eagerly.

Time passed. No one wanted to learn more about rocks and how the continents moved.

The board, Dr. Renton and two other doctors in the Science department considered the students essays, and they were undoubtedly impressed by Tran and Rodriguez. It was about three o'clock in the day on a Tuesday when both of them showed up, outside his office. He was writing to the Mexican consulate to thank them for the opportunity to see the discovery first-hand. He put his pen down and told them to take a chair in front of his desk. They sat apart from each other, Tran looking shy and Rodriguez smiling smartly. He didn't like the kid; he had an unknown confidence that could get him in trouble. "Well," said Dr. Renton, "You know why you're here. Do either of you have trouble with the timing? We leave in the morning."

He was hoping that neither student would want to go. They would just slow him down because every part of the Pyramid of the Sun was a "learning opportunity" for a college student.

"I'm ready," said Rodriguez, "I've been packed for the past week, Dr. Renton."

Dr. Renton remembered that he had mentioned the trip only as an afterthought before the essay; maybe Rodriguez had heard. It was still a bit naïve of him to think the board would consider him above anyone else.

"Ms. Tran?"

"I'll be done packing tonight."

Dr. Renton raised an eyebrow. He knew about the party that night but he said nothing to keep from looking suspicious. "Five a.m. at L.A.X. lady and gentleman," he said with a smile and handed them huge yellow envelopes. "You'll find certain items in there, including your airplane tickets. Please don't lose this stuff; it'll help you on your trip."

The things were five-inch thick and Tran had trouble lifting hers. Rodriguez took it from the Dr.'s desk with a smile and left the room. Before Tran left, her shoulder-length hair swung back at him. Dr. Renton was half-way to finishing his letter again. "Doctor?" she asked, addressing him, shyly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you really think the white rocks are bones?"

"We'll see," said Dr. Renton and paused. "But no, I don't know what to make of it really."

Tran smiled and outside his office, she saw Tran hand Rodriguez a five dollar bill.

Two days later…

….a plane arrived an hour late. It was normal in airports. Tran was dressed in a

white skirt and white sweater cut at the sleeves with white tennis shoes. She looked

like she was about to play a round of Tennis or like, perhaps, she had just played one. Rodriguez on the other hand was wearing an off-color blue and white Hawaiin shirt and gray shorts with hiker's boots. The third member of the party was Tran's boyfriend, unbeknownst to Dr. Renton. He was a tall fellow with football-player shoulders and brown hair. The rich boy was wearing an all-white dress suit and blue tie. Everything was made of an expensive fabric that was shiny and too pretty to look at. Dr. Renton disliked him only a little more than Rodriguez. He started by saying, "Ah, I didn't know. My apologies, Ms. Tran."

Rodriguez took care not to smirk out loud.

The girl's boyfriend looked uncomfortably confused about the exchange. Tran got red in the cheeks and said, "Oh, never mind."

Nothing much more was said between them. It was a fairly silent plane ride for Dr. Renton until his colleagues showed up with their own students.

The two other doctors greeted the other's students and were fairly happy about the trip, unlike Dr. Renton, who didn't move from his seat in the plane until they landed. The first class was set up like a cabin with four seats in a square.

The first to sit opposite him was Dr. Rita Hawthorne. "Morning, doctor."

"Oh, good morning," he said, brightening up a little. Dr. Renton was reading the consulates official message on their findings. Most of it had been translated from its original language, so it couldn't exactly be trusted.

"You should try to relax, Eli. Particularly, before Henry comes."
"Henry?" Dr. Renton asked, "He's researched out last I heard. I would think it

was him who needed a break."

The doctor was a brown-haired lady, a creole from New Orleans. She had that air of knowing and sexuality that made Dr. Renton uncomfortable. It was unfortunate that she was dating the aforementioned doctor. Henry was a clever fellow, who had written a book on the ecological nature of certain types of rocks, The One-Side Track. It was an interesting read but it dwindled deeply on a strange fantasy about good and evil. He studied lava and ocean rocks. He left the mountain rocks to people like Dr. Renton and Dr. Rita. She meant to try and relax, so he wouldn't put Henry off by his studying.

Dr. Rita was in a workwoman's gray dress that cut off at the knees like a skirt and sat cross-legged from him. He saw Henry coming and along with him, two green-eyed students with blonde hair and white faces. They were smiling, showing recently-inserted braces. It was hard for Dr. Renton to hold back a laugh. "Hi," they said almost in unison.

"Is this a trick?" asked Dr. Renton.

Rita shook her head. It had been a rude comment.

"They're outmost experts on good and evil."

"What are their names?"

"Good," one said, smiling.

"Evil," the other said, pretending to frown.

They both held such unbelievable chirpy attitudes that it was hard to think of them as intellectual equals. If it was acting, then it was understandable because their attitude was extremely convincing. Two young ladies with braces, one wearing a school girls red striped uniform and the other wearing a blue striped uniform and they were supposed to represent moods. Dr. Renton felt that "good" could be described as all those things people wanted to be but never quite achieved due to an unconditional desire to succeed at what they love. And "evil" was a term to express all those desires that people were so concerned with that kept them from being "good".

The two were young enough to represent an evil for the doctor, just like Dr. Rita represented a good for him.

"Um," Dr. Rita said, also trying not to laugh, "You ladies fashioned yourselves names after the teachings of Dr. Locus?"

Henry was a smiling character. He was happy about life. He was wearing old brown shoes and a matching belt, probably made from the same worn leather. His pants were beige and loose and were a mesh of white string on the bottom. He was wearing a jacket for some reason, although he was quite informed that it was the summer and particularly hot in Mexico. He was the most uncharacteristic character in the plane, especially since he had the brown hat to match his belt and shoes. "Quit, you guys," he said.

"Very well," Dr. Renton said, "What do you two know of good and evil?"

The "good" blonde said, "We will win." And smiled a lot.

The "evil" blonde said, "We will lose," And brought her hand up to wipe off her pretend tears.

They both, then, smiled triumphantly.

Dr. Rita broke out laughing.

"Take your seats, girls," Henry said with a sigh.

He took his seat next to Dr. Rita and the good and evil twins left.

"Seriously," he said, "You guys have to treat my students with more respect than that."

After they were in the air, Dr. Rita said, "They have no clue what this trip is about, Henry?"

"There are some evil things happening," he said, "The one in red is so happy about it."

"Yeah-uh," said Dr. Renton, taking off his reading glasses, "What about the rocks changing color?"

"They could have been painted white, for all you know," Rita said.

"It wouldn't be in the papers," said Dr. Renton, although he knew she was kidding.

"Ugh, is this how it's going to be, doesn't anyone want to talk about the adventure?"

Dr. Rita made as though she was thinking about it by putting a finger to her chin, "The adventure?"

The plane shifted in a scary way at this point.

The airplane captain said, "Sorry about that folks, we came upon a dense fog for a brief moment there; it should be a smooth trip from now on."

Dr. Renton laughed, "That enough adventure for you?"

"Are you sure you're a doctor?" asked Henry, concerned.

"Look who's talking," said Dr. Rita, surprised.

Dr. Renton laughed harder.

"Hmmm," said Henry, "Let me tell you what happened to a group of people back in 001 Before Christ….."

"….they were called the Nitza, and always lived under the shade of trees near worshipped temples and altars. They didn't believe in good and evil but an ominous war between their land was ensuing. It was true that in those days tribe was against tribe and there were intermarriages for power. It is the tendency of men to want more than they have. However, these were simpler times. To be happy, one didn't need to be accepted by his peers, only to be loved by those they loved. The Nitza were corn growers, just like the surrounding people, who were constantly at war with some descendents of the Maya. Who knew what their name was, some people called them the Ozas, the Tlaxcalans, an evil race of people. They betrayed each other constantly just to build fame or wealth for themselves.

The Nitza were traders, bent on making their money through the sale of corn products. Corn provided people with a variety of healthy foods that the Nitza were inventive and creative with. They became popular, which was bad. They started to acquire the knowledge of all those around them, which was bad. They began to believe in things, which wasn't all that bad.

It was here where the villagers came upon a strange fellow, preaching to them about an incoming war with 'the white man'. The Nitza's wanted no part of it; they were not about wars; wars were started for good or evil but they believed in neither. If they chose a side, it would make them evil or good in the eyes of someone. They ignored the strange man. He came every hundred years to warn them until he became more of the jest in the village than any type of administrator of justice. He was never taken seriously. However, a descendant of his came every hundred years to make fool of himself like the boy who cried wolf, right?

The Nitza's were the first group of people's enslaved or slaughtered by the Spanish before the coming of Cortez. They were the smartest tacticians and had more advanced weapons than the Aztecs. So I ask…"

"….Is it really wise to ignore good and evil?"

"Rocks," explained Dr. Renton, "Are only rocks."

"I thought you'd say that, Geeky face," said Henry, "That's why I hired an escort."

Dr. Rita considered this in a serious way. "I think we should look at all aspects of this phenomenon, Eli."

"You trying to avoid being insensitive to your boyfriend's ideas?"

"No," Dr. Rita said, "Because, you see, I don't think it's all about the rocks, either."

"I know," Dr. Renton said, "It's never about the rocks; it's about the history behind them."
"I met Fernando and he had an interesting perspective, not unlike Henry's. He said it's to do with the alignment of the moon and the sun and how they converge across continents to form a signal like as in a warning for change. I suppose it's not that much different than having a counselor who tells you the truth and one who lies to you. The pyramid's rocks could be the truth and the crystals they found in England a form of lies."
"Yes, I shall look at the rocks, Henry will look at good versus evil, preferably not his students and you will see to change," Dr. Renton said, getting a cup of whisky from a passing stewardess.

Dr. Rita slapped it out of his hands. The cup dropped on the ground and rolled, spilling the contents everywhere. Dr. Renton's reaction to this was a continual stare in her direction.

Rita's boyfriend seemed to be completely unconcerned with it, even though part of the whisky had landed on his shorts. "It's not good for you, doctor," Rita said, her head buried in a manual.

"What is that?" asked Henry, looking over her shoulder curiously.

"It's a Guide to Nahuatl language. I presume that not all people in Mexico speak Spanish."

"Looks like a poetry book," he said.

"A lot of the Nahuatl (pronounced Nahua) people held this belief that the secrets of the world could only be found in the poetry of the people, just like now, I guess. A lot of truths are found through our music; they wouldn't have liked rap, I guess."

"Nahuatl is the language of the Aztecs," Henry said, "The good guys, I mean."

"They were the good guys?" asked Dr. Renton. "They always make that Spanish don come out as the hero."
"Oh, right," Henry said, looking over at his twin students, who were making up a cheer, in the regular fare section, "Cortez, you mean. Evil guy, him. Killed people to justify killing people, worst kind of villain there is."

Were the twins cheerleaders? Dr. Renton had no clue why he'd brought them on the trip, least of all because the type of students the rich organizations and their affiliates had provided them were exactly the type that were attracted to them. It would have been better if he'd brought students of some intellectual nature, who could think their way out of trouble, which there might just be; it was Mexico, after all and the pyramids weren't exactly a place where they wanted 'white people' poking their noses in. If what Henry had said were true, then they would definitely be seen as the bad guys.

"Right," Dr. Renton said, "You'll find Fernando has a deep background on the basis of Chicano history. In this respect, he'll agree with you; that one was evil and one was good. As to the extent of people dying, it was all evil if you ask me."

"You go looking for your time machine rocks, then, Doc Brown," Henry said, which made Rita laugh hard, "I'll be looking for a much more subtle truth."

Early on Wednesday morning, a maid woke them from their hotels and practically threw them out into the muddy streets. Two tourist vans pulled up to the two-story all-brick house five minutes after that. They were driven to a place below a sidewalk, covered by a slanted roof. It had a big sign with a smiling character on the front. They were greeted by a Lourdes Mencia, who was a round woman with dimples. She smiled and greeted them laughing at almost every turn. They were led to a table, where Dr. Renton and his entire group sat around. Nine students and three doctors sat six on each side and at the end, two men in black feathered hats called Tejanas (a cowbow hat with a smooth black texture and a red ribbon around the front), sat on opposite ends of the table. Already there was an assortment of salsas and what some called a molcajate, a round bowl made of a shiny rock used to make chile, overflowing with a tomato sauce which wasn't spicy at all. Four young ladies in home made dresses, one wearing a zarape, a sort of cover with a hole in the middle decorated with the flight of a fierce eagle, and a large sombrero (this was black and adorned with colorful sequins and small stars) brought in large gray plates and sat them down on the table. On top of the trays were white bundles that looked like tamales but in reality were steamed tacos of different flavors like meat, chicken, beans and a form of spicy meat.

The men had introduced themselves as Gilberto Flores and Adan Ranciado. "Eat," they said in unison.

The one on Dr. Renton's side on the right end of the table, Gilberto, added, "You will need your energy; it's a long climb to the top."

Gilberto wore a ten-inch round buckle with the imprint of a bull in silver and a gold background. He was in blue jeans and brown crocodile boots. Adan didn't have a belt and was not the jeans type. He was in more elusive clothes like black slacks and a dark-brown lined dress shirt.

Good and Evil were enamored of them. Good was charmed by Gilberto and would not stop staring at him. Evil was fascinated by the other and kept batting her eyes at him.

Dr. Renton cleared his throat because he noticed Dr. Rita's third pupil. He was twelve years old, a youth in sandals and a torn white shirt. He was paying attention to everything in sight but was smiling especially wide at Dr. Rita.

"You managed to change your dirty rich kid for him?" Dr. Renton asked her quietly.

"I didn't get one," said Rita, "The kid's our guide."

"What about Gilberto and Adan?" Dr. Renton asked.

"They're body guards," Henry said, absently, putting a whole taco in his mouth. They were so thin and soft that part of them fell apart when you grabbed them. Most of the students were eating them eagerly, putting aside the greasy white papers covering them. Tran kept testing hers with a spoon, which she'd politely asked one of the ladies to get her in Spanish. She did finally try one and gave the spoon a good flying lesson. Tran had to be stopped or she would have fallen dead from over-eating. Fernando took care to stop her, while her boyfriend ogled the other girls that had happened to chance the expedition. Dr. Renton wondered how Dr. Rita managed to get away without bringing a "prepy" rich kid from the valley. "The valley has some kind-of exclusion program now?" asked Dr. Renton.

"No," said Rita, "We raised the funds for the trip ourselves. I still have a bit of the old party-for-money spirit in me, believe it or not. While you were busy not reading from a book in your unconditioned class, I was busy trying to gather student morale while at the same time avoiding the California board of education's anal rules on exposing the rich to pointless claims of power. I just couldn't let it happen again. We do all the work; they get all the recognition, not to mention the power."

That discussion seemed to spark up another discussion between Rodriguez and Tran's boyfriend, whose name it was later found was Trent. It was about Tran and it wasn't as heated as Dr. Renton expected. From the first word spoken in high tones, the entire table's conversation was halted, as if someone had pushed a pause button in a movie. "Tran is mine," was what Trent had idiotically started it off with.

Tran, who had skipped out on the Tennis player outfit that exposed most of her legs, was looking between the two. It wasn't so much for concern of who won but to see if they noticed that she was sneaking a taco or two into her purse. Her slight of hand was discovered at some point because Fernando grabbed her hand and steadied it on the table with his own, much to the discontent of Trent. This brought her undivided attention back to him. Fernando had at this point already said, "No one is disputing your relationship, guy. I was simply asking if you would let her come with me to the pyramid of the moon. It's a courtesy to you; we're not going there to make out."

Dr. Renton had his own opinions about why they were going there and he couldn't figure out why they all led to the negated conclusion.

Good frowned at him and said, "Don't feed the fire, menace."

Evil smiled at him and said, "Yes, go with him, Tran!"

This distracted all three of them.

They turned to look at the twins, who at that moment had decided on black and white dresses. Dr. Renton was beginning to wonder how they chose clothes because if one was the opposite of the other, it wouldn't be a walk in the park. When one bought a pink dress, the other would have to find a purple one. This trend of the girls to dress in opposites was one which Dr. Renton suspected was just a part of Henry's recent influence. It couldn't be that the girls' sense of fashion would be based on light and dark colors.

Tran was visibly upset. Her eyes were darting between Francisco and Trent and her face was one of utter disappointment. "Neither!" she nearly screamed. "I will not be the toy of jealousy! I'm not going with either of you!"

Dr. Renton saw a dire problem, "You're going to wander around the valley of the dead all day, Ms. Tran?"

Her cheeks turned a color red.

Dr. Renton was rewarded with a nonchalant elbow from Dr. Rita for his worry.

"There are other temples," she said, quietly.

She changed to calm and subtle. Dr. Renton coughed a little and went back to his tacos. "Very well," said he, "Now that our dispute has been resolved, I guess we can get on with the rest of the trip."

Over the course of the meal, Dr. Renton had met the two students that Dr. Rita had brought. One of them was Chinese and quiet. He didn't speak or nod or participate in anything. He was, however, unnervingly concerned with a world map that he kept bringing in and out of his black jacket pocket. He was a messy haired youth with blonde hair and a wide smile. He had brought some comfortable sandals covered from the side and front with white socks. He was probably the only one in sandals, although the local population seemed to have a sale on the things. Dr. Rita told him half-way to being done with the meal, "Put it away, Sazaki."

The other student was Sazaki's sister, Trami. It was like a turnaround. Trami would not stop talking about everything in China, comparing it to Mexico and to the United States. Her rambling went on and on, "….Oh, mother would love these tacos like have you ever seen—my brother has a map—but you think this sauce is spicy, the sauce in China is the best, you ever have that habinero from Chicos in East L.A. Did you know it was way better than that stuff from China? But Mexico has taste; that's what I noticed. Not spicier; just tastes way better. It has to be the water. Do you know how dirty the water is in the United States, OH-MY-GOD—Sazaki! Put that map away already. Like he thinks there's a hole in the ocean or something—?" blah blah blah. Dr. Renton and the rest had only put up with her because she was keeping Evil and Good from making them laugh. They didn't stay clear of her but they paid close attention to her because she might say something good or bad. It was a lot of nonsense to Dr. Renton.

The meal ended when Good told Evil where to stick her fork in two languages. Apparently, the Good girl was smarter, so Evil remained transfixed in her direction after hearing her speak Spanish. Her giggling and happy demeanor faltered for just a second, then she smiled and uttered without a pause after Good had climbed up onto the street, "Bitch."

There were vendors everywhere they went of shoes, belts, zarapes, bedsheets, bed covers. Designs were everywhere. The town was full of colors and mostly of green. Dr. Renton kept looking up at these green hummingbirds converging over a field of red wild flowers that they saw along the trip. Dr. Rita asked the driver of the tourist van to stop. It was a big enough van to fit six of them, so they had to take two vans to make it up to the temples. The van in which Henry drove, swerved around them and passed them by. Henry nodded at Dr. Rita as if he'd come to understand her minor obsessions. "Those are Aztec flowers," She said, her breath taken from her. The flowers were a deep red and yellow; they almost resembled a fire and were growing almost four feet off the ground. The field was being tended by a man with a donkey and a sombrero. He only spoke Spanish but that didn't matter because the students were antsy about the true nature of the rocks on top of the Pyramid of the Sun.

Francisco and Trent happened to be sitting together on the back of the van and were playing rock-paper-scissors for the honor of Tran's hand in who-knows-what. Tran was sitting in front of them alongside Trami and Sazaki, who had a microscope out as he looked at his map. He was otherwise very quiet. Dr. Rita was sitting next to one of the guides and the little boy guide she had brought along Dr. Renton figured as a joke. Dr. Renton was in the front seat next to the driver. "We be here long?" asked the driver, a chubby man in his thirties, who was hoping for a yes, so he could go outside and smoke his cigar. Dr. Rita noticed this and said, "No, let's keep going. We'll get one on our way back."

Adan, the bodyguard in slacks, was observing the surrounding area, his eyes were moving everywhere under the brim of his hat. From time to time, Dr. Renton noticed Adan adjust the heel of his pants, nervously.

It bothered Dr. Renton so much that by the time the van turned into the road that crossed to the valley of the dead, Dr. Renton had dared to ask, "Why are you doing that, young man?"

"You came at the wrong time, professors," he said. Dr. Renton asked him other questions but he wouldn't answer them. He took his rudeness as a sign that maybe he shouldn't be asking any questions.

Other than the muddy roads from a previous rain, nothing altered their course to the pyramids. They were dropped off, a mile's walk from the pyramids. Fernando was stubborn about seeing the pyramid of the Moon, so Dr. Rita had to be separated from Dr. Renton, so she could supervise. Tran didn't want to be around anyone, so Dr. Renton agreed to let her go with Adan anywhere she liked. Trami followed him, while Sazaki went with Dr. Rita and Francisco.

Dr. Renton had no clue that it would be almost six months before he saw any of them again.

An hour had passed, Good and Evil were getting more giggly than usual. Henry and Gilberto were not in good terms as far as conversation went. He had come to the pyramids before the rest of them but they never made it there. As soon as they arrived, officials from the FBI, the CIA and Secret Service and the SSS (Secret Secret Service, as Evil had guessed) had showed up in black everything. Their SUV's were black, their suits were black; their unnecessary sunglasses were black. Their way too shiny shoes were black.

The Agents name was Mcglover or something. He had mentioned it as soon as he had come out of the van. "Dr. Locus?" asked the man.

Henry nodded. "You will come with us. We have some unfortunate news about the state of affairs of the world and you have been signified as a man of expertise in the areas of interest to the United States. We were expecting Dr. Renton but time restraints forbid us waiting a minute longer for his arrival."

"Dr. Renton—who the hell, oh you mean Eli. He'll be here in a minute, Mr. Fancy Pants. They're just checking out some flowers."

The FBI agent winked at him. Other agents surrounded the group and were standing a few feet from the area.

"We have to move now, sir. Hostiles in the area," one of them said.

"They're not hostiles," Henry said, "That's Eli and my girl."

"You're coming with us."

"What about my students?"

The FBI agent took note of the two blonde girls smiling and giggling at each other. One was smiling in an evil way and waving and winking at him; the other was trying to look modest. One wore a entirely black dress; the other wore the exact same dress entirely in white. He raised his eyebrows and said, "They come, too. Get rid of the Mexican."

"No don't kill him!" Good said, horrified.

The FBI agent thought about it, as Henry and the girls were pushed into the back seats of different SUVs. "Bring him along, then. Congratulations, you're a U.S. Citizen, thanks to the scared blonde girl."

Gilberto tipped his hat at them and let them frisk him and take his guns. Gilberto had managed to hide six.

Henry met the president face to face in Africa two days later.

They were on top some kind of huge building that had erupted near the congo at the time of European expansion. It was one of the oldest buildings in Africa. They were in a hotel suite, so most of what was happening was they were being served expensive everything, while they waited to see the president. Henry was starting to get upset at the circumstances but he knew Eli would take good care of his girl. He cared about her and was a good friend. They were seated at dinner in a long table, two people on each end, Good was sitting across from Evil, Gilberto across from the president's eleven-year-old niece and Henry and the president on each end. They were having Ravioli-something. The point is it tasted like tomatoes and meat.

"What's the problem, Mr. President?"

"The world is ending," said the president, "But that's always happening, in my opinion."

"Oh, no," said Good.

"I agree," said Evil.

The president eyed the two girls with some interest. "They are your pupils?"

"Experts in the field of rockology?" Henry said, smirking proudly.

The girls giggled.

The eleven year old almost lost part of her ravioli because of the joke.

"We're particularly interested in the movement of continents," said the president. "You know, something is bothering me, since you arrived here, Dr. Locus. The girls were wearing pink and purple yesterday. Yet today they are wearing green and red. They say things that are opposite of each other and they have no listed names."

"Yeah," said Henry, "They erased all their data from the system."

"You can erase your history?"

"They became idols, of a sort. Not my idea, although my beliefs were a small part of it; their choice. The one in the green is named Good and the one in the red is named Evil."

The eleven year old dropped her fork and said, "Your names are Good and Evil?"

"Yes," they said in unison, smiling down at her.

"Yes," the president said, "When we passed their fingerprints through our filter all we got was a G and an E. You say they changed their data on the computer?"

'I have no clue about computers," Henry said, blowing on his too-hot ravioli. "They, on the other hand, are brilliant, despite appearances. You see, I have come to admire these two since I first saw them. They were walking along a losing road, selling drugs in the school, causing fires. One of them was always more cautious than the other but she kept getting led by the other. I helped them find their individuality and accept it. Finally, they just decided to be smart and change their give names to something more symbolic. I was teaching my students about good and evil at the time."

"How will an unrealistic belief help us to understand the movement of tetonic plates, Dr. Locus?"

"Every aspect of nature has to do with good and evil," Henry said, "Evil seems to be leading us when we're supposed to be leading ourselves. You see, the world is like my pupils here, one could easily dominate the other, if they let themselves."

"Ladies, please excuse me and the doctor," said the president. The girls got up.

Gilberto was told to leave, as well.

They were alone. The president sipped on his wine and said, "I fear I may have brought the wrong doctor on this one. I have a sinkhole in the middle of the Equator. It's splitting the earth in half from what I hear and swallowing part of Africa in its wake."

"You intend to leave us here in Africa and be on your merry way, then," Henry said, "And hope to god, we find a way not to die."

"More or less," said the president, with a smile.

"Sounds like evil is leading you, Mr. President. It's not going to give you the answer you seek."

"Let your brilliant prodigies get you out of this one, Dr. Locus."

Henry laughed.

"What's funny?" asked the president after a few seconds.

"It's just like the fifteenth weird occurrence this week. The answer is in the rocks. Don't forget that, Mr. President. You and your niece or whoever may go now. Me and my prodigies, as you call them, will be investigating your claims. If they're true, you're a much more evil man than I mistook you for."

"The greater good," sighed the president.

"There needs to be a good," said Henry, "For their to be a greater good."

The president got out of his chair calmly and turned once around to look at him. "Why didn't Dr. Renton come here, Dr. Locus?"

"He and my girlfriend were busy picking flowers," said Henry with a smile.

The president stormed out, upset.

It was getting colder in the café. The air conditioning came on by itself. Jenny had called him, though. Ron looked at his phone at the one missed called in it. It was from his other sister. He hadn't spoken to her in two years after some stupid fight between the two of them over money. He wished with all his heart that he could have answered but too much of the depression that was setting in on him prevented him with dealing with it. Ron didn't know if he could take it, if she didn't forgive him. It was his sister.

"Hey, Mr. Sad Face," said the girl on the counter, who'd served him two cups of coffee for free by then. "I will pay you to be happy."

Ron smiled up at her. "No need," he said, "I have to be on my way home."

He was getting his jacket from the back of his chair.

The place was practically empty, except for him and another person in the back, a teenager reading a book.

The girls' boyfriend, who had been bored the whole day, said, "Hey, dude, it's way late for you to be out in this neighborhood. Let us give you a ride."

"I only live a few short blocks down," said Ron, "You know, over the bridge and passed the park."

"Over the bridge?" asked the boyfriend, "That's six blocks south. You can't expect us to let you go, solo after what you did for us, Mr."

"Call me Ron, young fellow. Don't worry about me; I'll be okay."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and left the blue café. Ron had said to his sister,

"Oh, yeah, everything's okay, you know. I got fired, today, though."

"What the hell, Ron; not again. I thought you were a people person."

"I make people happy, Jenny. I don't make them right."

"Well, you're not making your sister happy. Any word from mom or dad?"

"Not since they took their trip. You probably should forget about them. Three weeks in London and they decided to stay. I mean, sure I would love to hear from mom but I guess they're happier there and don't need us to be bugging them all day."

"Guess we did give them some trouble back in the day."

"Not me, but Daisy sure did."

"Yeah, and she called me like two days ago asking for your number. You should talk to her. I think she really misses you."

"I guess I'll get to that soon," Ron said, sadly, "I miss her, too."

"Well, good night. Come over next weekend. We'd love to have you over here, little brother."

"Okay, I'll probably be looking for a job but yes, I'll come. Bye, Jenny."

"Bye, beautiful."

Ron smiled on his way out of the place. He was coming upon dark streets with no visible names. There were buildings on the sides, apartment houses that broadened the perspective of the regular eye. No one was out or anything. It was just him and the lonely street. A few cat's were about rummaging in thrash cans. Cars passed by but it was relatively quiet. It gave him time to think about Daisy. What could he tell her? Probably to apologize wasn't enough. He had slapped her but she had said that he was a stupid person with no morals. She was right. He didn't have personal morals; he just believed that he could make others happy. He didn't believe that he could make himself happy; that was preposterous. Yet he hadn't made his sister happy and that was wrong in itself.

His phone rang again as he started to cross the bridge. A few rocks were on the road, so he kicked them over the side. He heard them land on the concrete ten feet below but he noticed something curious about the third rock he kicked off. It didn't make a sound. Does that mean it didn't land? Perhaps, the sound of his phone ringing had blocked it out. It was Daisy, again. He answered it this time. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said, "How are you, how have you been?"

"Fine," said Ron, "I lost my job today."

The girl on the other end laughed. "I'm sssory, it's just, so did I."

"Um," said Ron, "I'm sorry I hit-?"

"You don't have to," she cut him off, "I mean, it's just good to hear from you; I'm glad you're okay."

"I was just so busy making others happy that I forget myself sometimes."

"I was harsh."

"Well, it's good to hear you from you," said Ron, "How is you-know-who?"

"Ugh, he's running around, still in the construction business."
The park was in front of him. He came upon a path where trees were on either side and there was an unending darkness of green. The wind picked up a little along the road. Ron blamed it on the trees, whose leaves were a shining green. "I'm glad you're happy, sis."

"Yeah, and don't hesitate to call me, you know I got your back, brother."

Just then he heard a swish.

Ron turned around quickly but it was too late.

A faceless man in a black coat like death itself came from behind him and stabbed him through the spinal cord with a white dagger. Ron fell face first on the concrete. His body moved in convulsions. His whole body went limp, as if paralyzed and then his eyes were forced shot by lack of oxygen and his heart stopped thumping slowly in the middle of a summer's night.

The phone fell from his cold dead hands.

"Ron? Ronny?"