'It wil never be over. Since the dawn of time the mediocre masses have tried to suppress the intelectualy superior. It never works. Conditions can make us dormant, but we reemerge when the climate changes.'

To what egomaniacal delusion was I listening?

'It was my time to enter the ranks of the holy,' he continued, oblivious to the fact that I hadn't replied. Or indifferent. 'I found my offering. I made my sacrifice. I honored the ritual that you have profaned.'

'Jeremiah Mitchel or George Adair?'

'Irrelevant. Their names don't matter. I was chosen. I was ready. I folowed the way.'

Keep him talking, my mind reasoned. Someone knows where you are. Someone is doing something.

'Kulkulkan is a creator god. You destroy life.'

'Mortals are transient. Wisdom endures.'

'Whose?'

'The wisdom of the ages, shown to those worthy to receive it.'

'And you ensure its survival through ritual slaughter?'

'The body is a material envelope, of no lasting value. We discard it in the end. But wisdom, strength, the essence of the soul, these are the forces that prevail.'

I let him rant on.

'The brightest of the species must be nurtured. Those passing from this earth must yield their mana to those who remain, add to the strength and wisdom of the chosen.'

'How?'

'Through blood, heart, muscle, and bone.'

Dear God, it was true.

'You think you can increase your IQ by consuming the flesh of others?'

'As flesh wastes away, so does strength. But mind, spirit, intelect, those elements are transferable through the very cels of our bodies.'

I clutched the scalpel so tightly my knuckles ached.

'Herodotus told of the eating of kinsmen among the Issedones of Central Asia, who grew strong and ruled. Strabo found it among the Irish clans. Many conquering peoples gained strength through eating the flesh of their enemies. Eat the weak and grow stronger. It's as old as man himself.'

I thought of the Neanderthal bones, the victims in the kiva near Mesa Verde. The skeletons in my morgue.

'Why the elderly?'

'The aged hold the greatest reservoirs of wisdom.'

'Or do old people simply make easier targets?'

'My dear Miss Brennan. Would you rather that your flesh contribute to the advancement of chosen beings or be consumed by maggots?'

Anger weled, overrode fear.

'You egotistical, demented prick.'

'Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smel the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead, I'l grind his bones to make my bread.'

At a distance, the skeleton moaned, cackled.

I was confronted by madness! Who was this man? How did I know him?