Heirs of a Lost Race

The distance between Kon and the Inca's warriors diminished rapidly. At any time, a spear could paralyze him in a river of blood. Despair invaded his mind. He knew his life had come to an end.

His older brother, Illa, ran faster. They would no doubt kill him too: It would take just a little longer. Kon heard the steps of the killers in the dry grass. From his left, he heard a spear whir through the air. It landed between his legs. He lost his balance, and tumbled into a dead bush. Before he could stand up, five warriors grabbed his arms and shoulders. Kon speculated on what the afterlife could be.

Earlier, at dawn, the Inca's legions entered the secret City of the Sun. By midday, they completed the massacre of all its peaceful inhabitants, except two young men, two brothers. Kon and Illa, hiding behind the pillars of a temple, were discovered by a patrol. The two brothers ran out of the temple and reached a long stairway leading to lower terraces. Still more warriors came from the terraces: They had nowhere to go.

"I want them alive!"

The order was loud and clear. It echoed against the walls of the city, and the surrounding mountains.

"... alive! ... alive! ... alive!"

Silence came back, implacable.

Kon never thought the word "alive" could mean so much. At this moment, it was the impossible word. At the high elevation where the city was built, voices could be heard clearly from long distances. The order came from the main temple, at the top of the city. It was the temple the Inca had selected for his headquarters, just after dawn. With their hands tied behind their back, the two brothers were taken to the Inca. Covered with dust, blood from multiple wounds, and perspiration, Kon thought about his forefathers. For generations, they had sweated in the effort of building gigantic cities in daring places, such as the City of the Sun, Tiahuanacu, and many others. They taught the people of all surrounding nations how to build roads, terraces for agriculture, and irrigation canals. With skill, they helped them to become self-sufficient for food, water, clothing, and tools. With good will, they inspired them to live in peace, to care about others, and to display good manners. All their efforts were suddenly lost, disintegrated into brutal reality. It was the reality of hate and jealousy, the reality of military and political leaders, the abysmal reality of arrogance.

"I love this island which is mine. Its clear rivers

are my comfort, its blue lagoon my joy, its deep

valleys my home, and its high mountains my soul."

Hina of the Valley

At the same time, far away in the west, a young girl followed her father's steps to a legendary lake, where a giant eel lived.

"Father!" Hina said. "Where does King Vaihiria come from?"

"A long time ago," her father replied, "the most beautiful and tallest coconut tree of the island lived near the shore of this lake. Everyone came to admire the tree at least once in a lifetime. One day, the wind was so strong that the sacred tree fell into the lake, which was filled with waves. Then, through the waves, everyone saw the tree crawling like a giant eel. Since that day, everyone is convinced that King Vaihiria was born that way."

"Are we going to see the king?" Hina asked.

"Yes, these fish in my basket are for him."

At dusk, they sat near the quiet water of the deep lake.

"Now is the time," her father said, giving a shrill sort of whistle.

Immediately, a few waves came to shore, and at some distance, a dark mass broke the surface of the lake.

"Do not be afraid, my child."

Hina was startled by the awesome eel, which had moved about the surface of the water. The eel came with confidence and ate out of her father's hand.

"You can caress his head."

Hina bent forward, and put her fingers just above the eyes of the formidable animal: It was cold and slimy, but she was not afraid.

"This is King Vaihiria," her father said.

A year later, the young woman, still a child, walked on the long, black sand beach. On a sunny morning, walking alone gave her pleasure, and she enjoyed the wet sand rubbing and cleaning her toes. Behind her, the waves erased her tracks. She was taller and thinner than the average Tahitian girl of her age. She was a well-educated and fine example of the Tahitian aristocracy, intelligent, capable, and self-reliant. She had large, solemn black eyes, and instantly charmed everyone. Her long, straight, blue-black hair hung elegantly to her hips. She had a tiny mole on the lower part of her left cheek. Her skin was clear golden-brown, pure, soft and well maintained with vegetable oil perfumed with fragrant flowers.

With majesty and calm, Hina looked out upon her small world. She believed only in what she could see, or verify with facts. Her greatest talent was her natural good disposition toward the people that needed assistance. All infants and elderly people were filled with wonder when Hina held their hand and talked to them. With patience and a few kind words, she would make them content with their life.

She was not aware yet that, on that day, a sudden encounter with a man from another world would forever change her destiny.