Tequila's Sunrise Read Online Free Page A

Garden.”
    “We have gardens in Monte Alban.”
    “Yes, you do indeed. But those are not the Garden I speak of. Never mind. Again, it’s not from your pantheon, and yet, it affects your people just the same. You should know about it. After all, Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent, is part of your belief structure, as he is to all other peoples, as well. Why not the Garden?”
    “Quetzalcoatl…” Chalco’s eyes grew wide. “Great Huitzilopochtli, I am sorry that I did not recognize you. I will give you the heart from my breast if it eases the insult. But before I do, I must know—are you here to herald Quetzalcoatl’s return? The priests say that this is the time.”
    “Arise, young Chalco. Yes, it has been many years since your people have paid me tribute, but I do not require your heart. There will be time for that later. Indeed, if your people are not saved, there will be no further sacrifices to anyone.”
    Chalco stumbled to his feet. “Then it is true! Quetzalcoatl is about to uphold his covenant? He’s returning to save us all? You have come to deliver the message.”
    “No, I’m afraid not. Quetzalcoatl will not return, at least, not in that form. Every time he does, you people nail him to a cross or burn him at the stake or shoot him in the chest or… well, that hasn’t happened yet. It happens later. But you see what I mean? No matter what form or name he takes—Quetzalcoatl, Jesus of Nazareth, Adonis, Mohammad, Buddha, Divimoss, Kurt Cobain, Prosper Johnson, Benj—”
    “I have never heard of these gods.”
    “Do not interrupt me again.”
    “I beg your forgiveness, lord.”
    “You have not heard of them,” the worm said, “and yet you have, for they are all one and the same. They are but different incarnations of the same being.”
    Chalco waited until he was sure the worm was done speaking. “So Quetzalcoatl has different names?”
    “Correct. So do many others. Tonatiuh, the sun god, is known as Ra to the Egyptians, and although you both believe him to have different responsibilities and worship him in different ways, he remains the same deity. Your rain god, Tlaloc, is called Cthulhu, Leviathan, Dagon, and many other things by different peoples. Huehueteotl is called Api by the Sumerians. Your Lord of the Dead, Mictlatechuhtli, is really Ob, Lord of the Siqqusim. Those last three aren’t even gods, not in the true sense. They are also of the Thirteen. But regardless of their origins, be they god or devil, of this plane or another, to know their real names gives you power over them. Thus, that knowledge has also been denied you and will be until science replaces magic and you lose the ability to bind them.”
    “And Quetzalcoatl—or whatever his true name is—will not save us? He will not return to vanquish our enemies?”
    “No.”
    “But he promised. The priests have said so. He promised to return.”
    “He has made that promise repeatedly throughout history. On this world and others. But it will not happen. It never does.”
    Chalco’s heart sank. “Then it is true. This is indeed the end of the world.”
    “Not necessarily. Quetzalcoatl will not save your people. You will.”
    “M-me?”
    “Indeed. That is why I am here, Chalco. Things are dire. Hernan Cortes’s conquest is destroying your land. He does not serve your king. He serves Charles, the King of Spain—and his God. And though all worship stems from the same Creator, you people get so caught up in names that you think you serve different gods. That is what King Charles and Cortes believe. They believe that they are doing the work of the Creator, but they are wrong. Cortes does not care about your people. He is here for new lands and new riches, and death follows with him.”
    Chalco shuddered.
    “Let me tell you of the future,” the worm continued, “and how it will be if Cortes is not stopped. He brings with him a disease called smallpox, against which your people have no defense. This disease will race to