Uno and Fog: The Time of Love and Comfort has Ended for You

The Fog considered his situation carefully.  He could tell her he knew she was Teri, and there was a good chance she knew who he was as well.  However, it was always his policy to err on the side of caution and to preserve what tactical advantage might be gained from the situation.  Uncertainty on the part of the other party was something that could be exploited.  Even if it was along the lines of her wondering if he knew that she knew that he knew like the hero Infinitum replicating his replicas exponentially.

“They seemed more intent on appeasing their gods than asking for favors.”  The Fog agreed.  He looked at the instruments of sacrifice displayed in the case before him.  He could see the reflection of Teri in the glass that protected the relics.  She was watching his reflection, gaging his reactions.  Her distorted image in the glass, reminding him of the masks of the Mesoamerican gods that were placed at regular intervals in the hall.

He was good at hiding who he was, what he thought and what he felt.  He had studied meditation, both western and eastern, kundalini and other arts so that he could fool a polygraph, which on more than one occasion he had needed to do so.  She would not get anything from him, short of using magic.

“They believed they had to be exceedingly careful, there were places that they were taboo and regardless of their station they would suffer and die violently.”  Teri looked over at him.

“I can understand why they would be careful.”  The Fog answered.

Teri nodded,  “Good.  Enjoy the exhibit.  The calmecac is not to be missed.”  The woman walked away.  The Fog watched her go, cognizant of the warning she was giving him.  He hadn’t been sure what he was going to find at the Natural History Museum, if anything, but it had been a very useful trip after all.

He headed toward the section on the calmecac, the house of sorrows, where the noble children were sent to be educated.  The children were starved, beaten and tortured daily there.  When a child was sent his parents would tell him, “the time of love and comfort has ended for you, thou goest knowing it.”

He understood how those children had felt.   He looked at the bloodletting tools and wondered briefly if those long dead people had found any comfort in their suffering.  He didn’t.  He could remember a time when he had known love, but it seemed so remote, more like a movie, he had seen once, than something real.

The memory of when it ended didn’t fade.  That was all too real.

And he went forth knowing it.