[In the last MCoG, Esteban, Zia, and Tao were brought into the village. Though Zia and Tao were relatively well accepted, Esteban, the prophesied enemy of the Cities, was a tough sell. It was only due to the arrival of foreign traders that he managed to avoid a terrible fate at the hands of a plot by a vengeful native boy. However, it seems clear that the three aren't safe just yet… not only are the sailors eager for riches, but Esteban was recognized as the Child of the Sun!]

A day had passed, uneventfully, and the festival grounds had finally cooled to an everyday mundanity as cargo was unloaded and bargaining dabbled in, all in preparation for the large unpleasant business that was called trading with the natives. In that time the children had remained mostly indoors. They were no longer the talk of the town, or so it seemed. Esteban had been summoned back into the care of his new mentor, Cokorda Gede Ngurah the healer, but only as the day wore on did the old man have something to say. Zia and Tao, barred from the entrance, were no doubt observing the process of tending rice. (Tao had finally learned why they took such a wide detour upon entering the village -- they had walked around giant floating fields, though he had no way of knowing this.) Or maybe they were up at the weaver's house, where they had generously been put up for the nights ahead.

"I think I have determined the meaning behind the Hiva Emperor's prophecy," the aged healer stated as he shut the door. "Please, sit down."

Esteban sat. The awesome nature in the room had only grown since his last trips here.

"We of Lombok believe very much in a cycle of life to death and death to life. All things, once born, must decay, and all things, upon ultimate decay, will be reborn… The Hiva Emperor placed the fearful power of Surya in his seven cities, so he no doubt believes in this idea. Perhaps the Hiva Emperor merely foresaw you in your lowest state. Perhaps you will soon revive as a greater hero than even in your past adventures."

Esteban nodded. "Maybe."

"Heh heh. I knew full well that the Hiva Emperor would not be so wrong… Esteban. That's not the only reason I speak to you now. I know that very soon you three shall be leaving…"

Esteban gasped. "Why make arrangements for us to stay at the weaver's?"

"-- very soon you three shall be leaving, and your two friends, Zia and Tao… I fear you shall be separated from them not long after."

"Eh?"

"I know I should not say it. It is an ill omen. However, it is a feeling that plagues me. You'll not be separated by force, but by choice. Right now you have very closely bound your fate with the other two, and while you are strong in the face of many dangers, you are far weaker if cut apart. Do not place too much faith in the strength of your friendship, Esteban… put a closer trust in its pliable nature.

"You wonder why I tell you this?" Cokorda continued. "You cannot guard the cities if you splinter from one assault. Much pleasure in life comes from routine -- such as this village -- but strength and wisdom spring only from change. Life is like that, Esteban. It's not just a big adventure."

Esteban scowled. "Yes, sir. May I ask a question, sir?"

"Of course." Cokorda replied.

"These foreigners… what do you know of their travels?"

"Sadly, not much. They rarely come to this island, and then only to make a small profit with their trinkets. They deal more with the emperor of Bali, who is supposedly chief of all Lombok. What they deal with -- I can only guess."

"What do you think they deal with?" Esteban had glimpsed secrets in the old man's inflection.

"…you are too young for this," said Cokorda sadly. He ushered Esteban out.

~~~

"What did he say?" inquired Tao.

"He didn't know what the strangers do," replied Esteban. "Have you seen that boy from yesterday? The one who attacked me?"

"No," said Zia, "but some of the children have told me that he is being kept busy with work."

"Why?" asked Esteban. "I don't want to meet him again, but it seems strange to punish him for doing what everyone else wanted to do."

"It is the right of these people to follow whatever system they want," stated Zia tartly.

"I'm not condemning them. I just want to know," replied Esteban.

Zia shrugged. "I do not know how to answer. I have not lived here."

Esteban, contemplating his many fates, let the subject drop. "So what have you two been doing all this time?"

"We saw their fields: fields in water!" exclaimed Tao. "And in the marketplace I found what looked like a carving of the Golden Condor. Oh, and Zia has something to show you."

"Really?"

Zia pulled a piece of parchment from beneath her securing sash and gave it to him. "It is a map of my own! What do you think?"

Esteban took the map and looked over it with interest. "It looks almost exactly like the city… but how is it coded?"

"Coded?"

"Which colors represent what, and what symbols? What does this shape mean here?"

Zia giggled and pointed out everything deliberately. "Green is green, blue is blue. The colors are the colors they look like, of course! That building there is a rice shed -- the natives call them lumbung -- and those are the great floating fields. That is a temple, and so is that, and this is --"

"They're very nice, but… what about scale? Latitude, longitude? Paces?"

Zia frowned and turned away. Esteban hurriedly continued.

"I didn't mean it that way! It's a good map, but without --"

"I'm sorry, I do not remember details as I do people and things. I drew a map to remember. Does that not help?"

"It works very well for us, but if we plan on taking it back to Mendoza…"

"These people have been ruled by the Balinese and pillaged by the Spanish, Esteban. The foreigners need no more maps, and the island needs no more foreigners!"

Esteban, stunned at her gradually heavier tones, chose his words carefully. "I suppose… I got a bit caught up with Mendoza's instructions." His enthusiasm grew. "I'll do this -- I'll add to this map the rest of the marketplace, with the wonderful shadow puppets we saw, and the coastline. Then I'll label each place. But not with the names the wealthy conquerers gave them. We shall use the names the villagers use!"

This softened Zia considerably -- she couldn't resist a chance to copy down on paper the beautiful things she had seen. "All right, I forgive you already. Thankfully Tao kept those dyes with him."

"Well, my poncho is perfectly waterproof," Tao smirked.

~~~

"Captain," queried the fat sailmaster during dinner on board the Sanmartin, "how long will the trading last? The season for typhoons fast approaches. We mustn't stay too long."

"I know that very well, Sailmaster Hector! If only we hadn't been caught in the doldrums we wouldn't be pressed for time, would we?" The captain glared icily at the sailmaster as he said this.

"Well, yes, but given our point of departure to wear off our course would mean…"

"I know, I know." The captain sighed and pushed away his plate. "Speaking of which, we are still under quota. That confounded Nirartha shortchanged me, I'm sure of it, but what could I do about that? That king whose name I do not care to pronounce backs him, and behind him the mightiest of pagan armies," he spat.

"That is correct, Captain, but on this island we may find enough to fill out our quota. With or without a full cargo, I guarantee that this system of trading will far outstrip Portugal's, and then even our stingy patron will be satisfied."

Captain Balbin grunted. "Let us drink to that."

~~~

Esteban and Zia had spent most of their mealtime finishing the map. Now it was time for bed, and the children finally had to step out of the illustrious sarongs so they would be ready for tomorrow. Dressed in their original clothes, the children returned to the weaver's house for sleep. However, Tao was still thinking. First he had been thinking of the temples, but by association his thoughts turned to the sinking Golden Condor, then to the Medallions of the Sun, and finally to Esteban and his peculiar outburst. And Zia… what was so important about Zia? He rolled on his side, watched the sleeping Esteban grasp his Medallion out of reflex (he had seen Esteban do this many times), and then decided.

"It must have something to do with the Cities of Gold," thought Tao without speaking. "What shall I do… wake Esteban and ask him? No, that would be isolating Zia. Wake Zia? No… then I might be villifying Esteban. Wake them both? No! I don't know what the issue is, and I could set something really bad off! This air is suffocating, I'd better just take a walk. Easy now… don't disturb them…"

With utmost caution he slipped his inconveniently lodged tunic out from under Esteban's sleeping space, watching very closely to make sure the youth did not wake. Safe. Not bothering to slip his sandals on, Tao padded out the door, taking one last look at the slumbering Esteban to ensure this exit was not seen.

Moments after Tao left, Zia rose and followed -- she was absolutely certain that something was going on with Tao. He'd been acting strangely towards Esteban, and more recently towards her. It was insistence -- he was acting so strangely insistent, not in his usual playful way either, but as though it were some sort of duty he was keeping from them. She knew this from living a long time around him. (Not as long as the trip on the Esperanza had been, but such an event had just as much pain as fun tied to it -- and she had been the guest of honor!) Tao's first priority from birth had been the Cities of Gold, and if he was keeping a secret about those, she and Esteban would be affected…

She found Tao outside, stealthily stepping towards the beach. He jerked and spun wildly when she placed her hand upon his shoulder to call him, but her reflexes were good enough to avoid amplifying his initial surprise and she gestured for silence. She lead him to a hiding spot just overlooking the beach, then addressed him directly.

"Tao, what is going on?"

"(If only I had a plan for this)," thought Tao. He did not speak right off. He motioned to the Medallion of the Sun, but before he could explain his thoughts he found himself in a powerful stranglehold. Zia, too, was held, by someone who appeared to be one of the burlier Spanish soldiers. The strong grips bit into Tao's strength, and soon he fell dormant and helpless. Zia had stopped struggling a while before, certain that attempts to break the grip would only waste her strength. Nonetheless, the powerful soldiers had had their hands full, and they showed it. The children found themselves carried to a familiar sight -- a campsite for many men, with one great tent in the center of it all.

"Urgh, these little native buggers ARE strong," said one soldier to the other. "I would have thought they were like our kids."

"Looks like Hector was right after all," shrugged the other. "Now, just be good children and you'll do fine."

~~~

Esteban had no trouble at all sleeping. In his dream, he had seen a great City, obscured by the Sun, on a high peak. He had struggled to climb up the golden mountain before him, but as he was reaching the top he chanced to look at his dust-covered hand, and with disgust wiped the gold off. As he did, his hands started to become oily, and his grip faltered. No matter what he did, the grip became more and more slippery, and then with one burst of fear he plummeted from the high peak. He landed on the ground and could not move for a long time, his head spinning from old familiar feelings of vertigo… then he nodded off.

Upon morning, he lifted his head and immediately noticed that Zia and Tao were both missing. At first he wasn't particularly panicked, and was certain that they had just woken up and had gone to find breakfast. However, upon asking the weaver, he soon deduced that the two children had not been seen, even though the weaver was awake before the break of dawn. Esteban, frowning, picked up the belongings of the two children and walked to Cokorda's temple, pausing only to look over a high ledge which overshadowed beach and a nearby extension into jungle. His vertigo had not returned, though the Spanish camp had been pitched near there, something he hadn't noticed before.

~~~

"What? You say they're gone?" asked Cokorda with incredulity.

"I woke up this morning, and they had left," exclaimed Esteban. "Not even the weaver saw them."

"…I do not like the sound of this," said Cokorda.

Esteban stared at the man. "You know where they are," he demanded. "Tell me. Tell me!"

"They are prisoners!" snapped Cokorda. "No doubt they will leave for another land very soon."

Esteban tilted his head as he looked at the old healer. "What are you talking about?"

"I am sorry, Esteban… the travelers, they have dealt with many goods during their trips to these islands. They obtain blankets, precious wood, and -- I do not understand why, but sometimes they take villagers who wander too far from the village… once our kingdom sold prisoners and criminals to get them off this peaceful island, but the process -- it is getting out of hand. Handfuls of innocent people are traded now, but I have had visions of ships packed with laborers. It is inevitable, I am sure of it, and yet no one will put aside the concept of… of slavery, Esteban. Not even in a half-century will the trade of humans end. I fear it will never end."

Esteban knew he should have felt like sinking to the ground and weeping, but instead he simply threw an emotionless look at the healer and said, "I don't believe you."

Cokorda placed his hand on Esteban's shoulder and stated, "I am sorry I had to tell you this so soon, my son." Cokorda showed the very same sorrow he'd shown the day before, a primal loss that could not really express itself. Esteban couldn't bring himself to care, because that would be accepting something haunting.

"I don't believe you," he repeated.

~~~

Esteban was perched on the ledge which overlooked the beach, the forest and the Spanish camp. He had stashed the encyclopedia and mysterious orb nearby and waited for what seemed like hours, though in reality it had probably been only minutes. He was watching and analyzing, recording the movement of the guards and the position of each tent. Esteban had imagined slipping into the camp many times, right after he'd left Cokorda's temple, but after looking at the guards again he remembered that he was only a boy against many armed and jealous men. Time was of the essence, as the sailors in town had talked about leaving this very afternoon. Of course, they were open with him; they obviously had no idea that he knew either Zia or Tao. Tao had always told him to think of a plan! Well, Tao had never been in this situation, had he?

Esteban shook his head, to clear the cobwebs out of his mind, and started his plan -- that is, to start first and think of a plan under pressure. He looked at his target once and, remembering his dream, doublechecked his hands and feet before starting down the cliff. He'd picked the right spot, a steep portion off the main road and well out of sight of the traders, but as he carefully made his way down a feeling came over him, a feeling of being watched. There was nothing he could do about that, however. Already it would take too long to climb back up. One foothold lead to another, and the going was relatively quick, but it remained to be seen if it would be quick enough. Once he had missed a foothold and a jagged rock had scraped across the side of his shin, but he continued.

A shot rang out suddenly, and Esteban, stifling a shout, gripped the cliff side tightly. He felt the gentle pinpricks of naturally-hewn rock against his cheek and a cool breeze against his side, but no pain anywhere, nor any feelings of a nearby impact. Esteban wondered if he would actually feel a gunshot wound or just numbness, then steadied his nerve and continued. He could not say for sure if that shot had been at him, or even if he was seen, but there was no way to tell without possibly losing his grip. He opted for hope instead; no shots followed the first.

At last, when Esteban put his foot down, he felt solid ground instead of empty air and rock. After looking down once to make sure he hadn't just hit a ledge, he rolled to the ground, lying there for a moment, staring up at the sky. The sun was beating down on him, a good omen, or so Esteban had come to think. The warmth spread through his aching muscles and renewed his strength, allowing Esteban to ignore his bleeding shin and remember his mission. He crawled towards the mossy-seeming ground upon which the camp was pitched, using each earthly protrusion and rocky extension as a hiding place. As he got closer, he forced himself to peek quickly out. Only a handful of soldiers had stayed behind to guard the camp, and none were watching him. "Lucky! Easy does it… gently…" Esteban's foot snagged on a ground tangle, and before he could help it he had cried out. Several soldiers came at him with guns at the ready, and Esteban prepared for the worst, but miraculously they halted and bowed to him.

"Hello, Child of the Sun," said one. "Captain Balbin is in his tent. He's been hoping you'd visit him." The soldiers returned to their posts. Esteban breathed a heady sigh of relief and looked around, hoping to pinpoint the place where laborers would be kept. He had no idea what it would look like, but already one particularly large tent had caught his attention already, and this was the tent he made his way to. No soldiers were guarding the tent, but they could see him if he entered through the main entrance, so he moved out of sight, then made a small pinhole in the back of the tent with his dagger and peeked through.

Only a few people were inside, and it looked like everyone was resting comfortably, given the relaxed expressions worn by most of the inhabitants. Only the chains and iron weights told otherwise. Esteban looked more closely through the hole, but no matter how he strained his eyes he could see neither Zia nor Tao. Well, not quite… off the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of what might have been a vivid yellow or orange. As he attempted to find a better angle to see this, he did not realize the shadow coming over him until it was too late. A hand grasped him, covered his mouth, and flung him to the side. As he hit the ground, he scrambled away from his attacker -- a native adolescent boy -- before he realized what was happening. By that time, the boy was making signs to guards who had just come up, giving no indication that Esteban had been there, allowing himself to be lead away as the actual culprit. Esteban had not really seen the boy's face, but he knew it was Wayan. And now he knew that the rumors were true -- Wayan had been there to intercept him, which meant he knew Esteban would be coming after Zia and Tao…

A pit formed in Esteban's stomach. Now that the guards had caught an escapee, the tent would be watched, and further attempts to search inside it would be impossible. That meant only one option was left. He slipped out the other side of his hiding spot, walked past the closed flap of the smallest tent and found himself face to face with the trader he'd villified. He gave one thought to Zia and Tao in chains, then sat before the captain in a gesture of humility.

Segundo Balbin smiled benevolently upon him. A new crewmember had just joined the Sanmartin.

[Next time on MCoG, the Sanmartin sets sail for South America with its cargo! (appropriate scene) Tao and Zia fight despair in the hold of the ship (Tao, in a dark place, feeds Kukapetal as Zia and the other slaves watch), and Esteban fights an old enemy of his -- coercion. (A crewmember clamors angrily, presumably about Esteban.) Will Tao and Zia avoid madness in their dank prison? Will Esteban get the sun to shine before the crew revolts? (A storm rises.) Find out on the next episode of MCoG!]

Documentary-ish: While slavery of other "discovered" races by the European powers only really began in the 1600s, and was chiefly employed by the Portuguese, the first signs of this form of slavery appeared in 1518, though the human component was relatively minor and only later would form into the dreaded Triangle Trade we all know and condemn today. It is not unthinkable that some undocumented Spanish attempts at slave trade might have happened in the 1500s, since Spain and Portugal were at odds with each other. Furthermore, since longitude was still an inexact science -- a reliable chronometer would only be invented after 200+ years -- Spain and Portugal kept moving the line that divided their supposed territories, with little thought to the natives in the crossfire, of course! Africa was the most common source of slaves even then, but in this time of exploration people were willing to try anything, particularly if it meant a very short sailing time, as it would have been between South America and Indonesia… Many people today believe that slavery has long ended. Unfortunately, though the African trade was put out of business, the Indonesian trade continues even today, perhaps due to its lesser historical impact. How would the world be different if Indonesian slavery had been practical enough to expand, while African slavery had been less effective than it was? Perhaps as many people would be saying that the practice of labor had been vanquished forever, even as the horrors of black slavery continued in secret!

"Goodbye… 'till next time."