The Mayan Resurrection

11

Lilith’s flesh crawls with fear as her grandfather slips in between her sheets. She can smell the alcohol on his breath – and the pungent scent of his sex.

‘Time for another lesson, girl.’

She turns away. Stares at her dollhouse.

‘As you get older, boys are gonna try stuff on you. Can’t let ’em do these things. Understand?’

‘Yes.’ The dollhouse roof is a sunny yellow.

‘Think I better show you again, just to be safe. Go on now, spread your legs.’

The dollhouse cardboard lawn is a Kelly green.

‘Girl, I ain’t askin’. I said spread your legs!’

The windows of the dollhouse are trimmed in pumpkin orange.

Her grandfather’s probing fingers are cold as ice.

The chimney is mouse brown, as are the exterior walls.

Hot, rancid breath comes at her in waves. The five o’clock shadow scratches at the inside of her unblemished thighs.

Lilith’s mind escapes inside the nexus as Quenton’s wet tongue once more violates her innocence.

Longboat Key, Florida

The president’s helicopter circles the compound twice before landing on the front lawn.

Dominique exits from the kitchen, waving at Ennis Chaney. She does not recognize the tall blond-haired Intelligence officer carrying an armful of presents.

Chaney greets her with a bear hug. ‘Dominique, you look better every time I see you.’

‘And you tell bigger lies.’

‘Where are the twins?’

‘Manny’s in the SOSUS lab. Jake’s swimming.’

‘Good. Let’s go someplace quiet where we can talk.’

Her heart jump-starts. ‘Talk? Why? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Can’t I visit my two godsons without something being wrong?’

Unnerved, she leads the two men inside.

Jacob secures the rope around his waist, then loops the free end through the center of the forty-five-pound weight plate and ties it off. Satisfied, he picks up the iron plate and climbs down the steps of the swimming pool, wading deeper until the waterline is up to his neck.

The white-haired twin takes a deep breath, then lowers himself to the bottom.

The steel plate sinks, dragging him with it.

Hovering inches off the bottom, Jacob closes his eyes and relaxes, searching the dark recesses of his mind.

In due time he sees the pinpoint of light. His mind’s eye focuses upon it, making it grow.

The pain in his chest eases. Concentrating on the bright light, he allows his mind to slip inside its warm white haze.

Lilith, are you in here?

Chaney sits back in a padded lounge chair. He sips an iced tea, then stares out the bulletproof glass at the inviting waters of the Gulf of Mexico. ‘Always loved this view. Wait and see, one of these days I’m gonna retire and move to Florida.’

‘Sure you are,’ Dominique says. ‘So? Are you going to introduce me to your friend?’

‘Dominique Gabriel, this is Major Richard Phillips. Major Phillips is the director of Project TRINITY.’

The major attempts to disarm her with a friendly smile.

Dominique is immune. ‘What exactly is Project TRINITY, and what does it have to do with my kids? And don’t bullshit me. The staff does that enough.’

‘Okay, ma’am, straight and simple: TRINITY is a covert Intelligence program, its origins dating back to 1978 when it was called Project GRILLFLAME. The purpose of the program was, and is, to recruit, train, and utilize psychics for the gathering of Army intelligence.’

‘You’re telling me the United States government recruits psychics?’

‘Yes, ma’am. The DIA-the Defense Intelligence Agency-took over the project in the late 1980s, changing its name to STARGATE. The program was revamped and renamed TRINITY following the extraterrestrial interactions of 2012. I took over the project four years ago. My qualifications include sixteen years in STARGATE as a remote viewer.’

‘And what is a remote viewer?’

‘Remote viewing is a mental faculty that allows an individual to describe a target or event that is hidden from our normal senses by distance, shielding, or time. In essence, it’s the phenomenon of clairvoyance or telepathy.’

‘Sounds like hocus-pocus to me.’

‘A typical first reaction. The hypothesis behind the art is that all knowledge exists in a vacuum of pure energy. Remote viewers have the ability to tap into this realm. I can assure you from my own experiences at STARGATE that the phenomenon is quite real and governed by a well-structured scientific protocol.’

A chill runs down her spine as she recalls Evelyn Strongin’s words: ‘To understand inter-dimensional communication, you must first accept that we are surrounded by energy, and energy is everything, it is only our perception within the universe that changes.’

‘You’re here to recruit Jacob.’

‘Easy,’ Chaney says. ‘I merely wanted the major to meet both boys and evaluate them.’

‘Why? Why do they need to be evaluated? Why can’t you just let them be?’

‘Dom, a few days ago, Jacob sent Rabbi Steinberg to Washington to warn me of an assassination attempt.’

‘What?’

‘His information led to the arrest of one of Air Force One’s crewmen, a racist nutcase who would have blown up Air Force One and everyone on board.’

‘My God…’

‘It’s no secret the twins are special. There’s no harm in seeing just how special.’

‘Ma’am, it’s very possible your boys possess the gift of psychotronic perception. If that’s true, then my department can help them realize this gift to its fullest.’

‘For what purpose? So they can spend the rest of their lives locked up in some windowless chamber, telling the CIA what the North Koreans are up to? No-I won’t have it.’

‘Dominique, open your eyes. There are groups out there-religious zealots, Mesoamerican fanatics-that may be planning an attack on your compound as we speak. If Jake or Manny could see them coming-’

‘God, I hate this, I am so tired… fine, just do it… do whatever the hell you have to do. Test them. Poke and prod them if you have to. Take more DNA samples, hell, put them in a goddam bottle-’

‘Dominique-’

‘My sons have become the world’s sideshow, Ennis, and it’s my fault. So just do whatever you have to do and get it over with!’

She storms off, leaving the two men alone.

Lilith?

Jacob? Two pinpoints of azure blue twinkle back at him from beyond the white haze. Where have you been? I call out for you every day.

It’s not always easy for me to enter. Evelyn says I have to get my adrenaline pumping in order to find my way in.

Who’s Evelyn?

Evelyn Strongin. You’d like her. She’s a psychiatrist, she had a near-death experience years ago. I want her to teach me how to communicate with my dead father.

When did your father die?

Long time ago. Before I was born.

My father’s in prison. He killed my mama when I was born.

Geez…

Jacob, when we’re together in the nexus, it feels like our souls are one.

He’s hurting you again, isn’t he?

Yes.

You should tell the cops.

I can’t.

Why not?

I just can’t.

He said he’d hurt you if you told, didn’t he?

If I tell, they’d take him away, then I’d really be all alone. Unless I can live with you? Can I?

No, Lilith. I wish you could, but it’s dangerous around here too.

Do you love me, Jacob?

Yes.

You wouldn’t ever hurt me, would you?

Why would I hurt you?

Just promise me you won’t.

I promise.

*

‘Jake?’

Dominique enters the pool area. Sees the figure lying motionless on the bottom.

‘Oh, shit-’ She dives in the pool. Swims to the bottom. Drags her son and the weight plate to the surface.

‘Jake! Jake, wake up!’

Jacob’s consciousness is hurled out of the white haze of the nexus into bright sunlight, his mind awhirl, fighting to catch up with what just happened.

‘… insane? Answer me?’

‘Huh?’

‘I said, are you insane? Are you trying to drown yourself?’

‘No. I was… I was just training.’

‘Don’t ever let me catch you doing this again? Do you understand?’

‘Yes, ma’am. You’ll never catch me again.’

‘Don’t sass me, young man. You know what I mean.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Dominique climbs out of the pool, the sudden rush of adrenaline causing her muscles to quiver. ‘Get dressed. Your godfather flew in to see you.’

Dripping wet, she heads back to the house, her nerves shot.

The Faraday chamber, located in the basement floor of the Gabriel twins’ training facility, is a metallic enclosure, its wall-embedded circuitry designed to scramble all incoming electromagnetic signals. Soundproof and windowless, the chamber is painted in a neutral color, its softly diffused overhead light panels rigged to a voice-activated dimmer. Inside the room is a rectangular steel table, with two matching chairs positioned at either end. A video recorder and closed-circuit camera are positioned inconspicuously along the ceiling.

Jacob Gabriel sits at the far end of the table, facing the closed door. He doodles on a legal pad with a blue ink pen, waiting for the session to begin.

Chaney and Major Phillips watch him on a monitor from another room.

‘Okay, here’s the drill,’ Phillips says. ‘While I’m working with Jacob, you keep the other twin occupied in the SOSUS lab.’

‘You think these two can communicate telepathically to one another?’

‘It’s definitely possible. One thing I know from personal experience is that remote viewing across inter-dimensional lines is very frequency-oriented. Since tapping into wavelengths of a similar consciousness can affect the believability of the session-’

‘I understand.’

Jacob looks up as the major enters the antiseptic room and shuts the door. ‘Hi, Jacob. My name is Major Phillips. I’m the guy the president told you about.’

‘You’re here to test me?’

‘You say it as if it’s a bad thing. Actually, remote viewing is a lot of fun. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for a long time.’

‘My first time was an accident.’

‘Which means you should respond very well to formalized training.’

‘What do I have to do?’

‘For one thing, relax. Your mom tells me you practice yoga. Focus on your breathing. Let your thoughts go blank. Computer, dim lights 60 percent.’

The room darkens.

‘Jake, I want you to turn to a clean sheet of paper. Write your name and the date in the upper right-hand corner.’ Major Phillips reaches into his breast pocket and removes six double-wrapped, opaque envelopes. Inside each is a folded piece of paper, with words written in ink.

‘There are six stages to remote viewing. We always begin with stage one. Do you know how telepathy works?’

‘One mind tunes to another.’

‘Correct. Remote viewing works the same way. Information, whether it’s in our past or future, is stored as energy in the psychic realm. To acquire bits of this information requires a clue or signal line. Your mind can be subconsciously tuned in to the meanings of these clue lines, or, in the case of you and your brother, your minds may be genetically enhanced to evoke, or call them up. Clues will come to you as sharp, rapid influxes of significance. Your preconscious nervous system will transmit these ideas through the muscles and nerves of your arm and hand and express them as marks on your paper. It’s very important that you not try to analyze these marks, just let them come. In the process, you might envision or remote-view different imaginary shapes for clues. When this happens, just tell me what you see. Again, don’t try to interpret anything. So? Sound like fun?’

The white-haired twin shrugs. ‘I can already do this.’

‘You can? Then this first coordinate should be easy for you.’

Phillips slides the first envelope in front of Jacob. ‘Interface with the object. Tell me what it is.’

The boy touches the envelope, then closes his azure-blue eyes. ‘This is too easy. It’s a beach, the beach in back of our compound.’

Phillips maintains his poker face, inside he is quite impressed. ‘Let’s try another.’ He skips the second envelope, jumping ahead to number three.

Jacob closes his eyes. ‘Man-made… bronze and steel… surrounded by water. I hear echoes of a city.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Statue of Liberty.’

Phillips says nothing, but his heart is pounding like a kettledrum.

‘Let’s try one more.’ He slides another envelope forward.

Jacob focuses inward.

A mountain… its volcanic peak rising higher…

The clue lines of Hawaii’s Diamond Head tighten in his mind – then suddenly evaporate, morphing into an ominous, alien world.

Crimson coals simmer along a subterranean ceiling, its embers refracting below along the molten surface of a silvery lake. Standing alone by the lake’s volcanic-sandy banks is a tree, like none he has ever seen. Wide as a silo, as white as the driven snow, its bare branches and alien bark drips a syrupy alabaster goo.

Situated within the ‘V’ of the great trunk is an object.

Jacob’s consciousness moves closer.

It is a human head, the severed neck melding into the tree’s ivory-colored ooze.

The eyes flash open, blazing a fiery azure blue.

Who’s out there? Whoever it is, stay away!

Ennis Chaney exits the elevator on the first floor, then turns left down the main corridor to the double doors marked: SOSUS LAB.

The underwater sound surveillance system, known as SOSUS, is a network of undersea microphones and cables originally configured by the United States Navy during the Cold War to spy on enemy submarines. As the military’s need for SOSUS began to dwindle, oceanographers successfully petitioned the Navy for access to the acoustic network. Using SOSUS, scientists could hear the infrasonic vibrations made by ice floes cracking, seabeds quaking, and underwater volcanoes erupting, sounds far below the range of human hearing.

Dominique’s adopted father, the late Isadore Axler, had been a marine biologist who had used his private SOSUS lab to study whale migration patterns in the Gulf of Mexico. In the winter of 2012, Isadore, using Michael Gabriel’s information about the Chicxulub Crater, had discovered strange acoustics originating from beneath the Gulf floor. His investigation of the site led to his death… and the eventual discovery of the remains of an alien transport ship, buried beneath the seafloor in the Gulf of Mexico.

At Edith Axler’s request, President Chaney had arranged for a SOSUS relay station to be set up in the Gabriel compound. Manny loved working in the lab, and his grandmother, Edith, took great pleasure in teaching her husband’s namesake how to record and analyze the voiceprints of whales, identify their species, and even track particular cetaceans as they moved throughout the Gulf of Mexico.

The president enters the lab. Manny is seated in his favorite chair, his headphones on as he eavesdrops on the whales. ‘Wow… listen, Grandma, I think I found a blue!’

Edith checks the source strength of the whale song. ‘One hundred eighty-six decibels. It’s a blue, all right.’ She signals Chaney over. Hands him a set of headphones.

Low-frequency moans echo in his ears. ‘That’s, uh, interesting.’

The lab door bursts open, Major Phillips hurries inside. ‘Sorry, sir, but we’ve got a situation.’

Jacob Gabriel lies on the floor of the Faraday chamber, unconscious. The staff physician listens to his heart, while Ryan Beck and a nurse attempt to comfort the boy’s visibly upset mother.

‘What happened?’ Chaney rasps.

The major shrugs. ‘Honestly, sir, I don’t know. Jacob’s mind is incredibly focused, giving him direct access to the clue line, better than any viewer I’ve ever worked with. Everything was fine, then he just blacked out.’

Dominique pushes her way to the major, poking her index finger against his chest. ‘Whatever you did to him-’

‘Ma’am, I swear… it wasn’t me. Jacob’s doing this himself.’

‘Blood pressure’s good,’ the doctor calls out. ‘Pulse is strong, but very slow. He seems to be in some kind of transcendental state. Let’s everyone try to stay calm and give him a few minutes.’

Father?

Who’s out there?

It’s Jacob. Your son.

Foul beast, go away! Think you can fool me with your -

Father, please, it’s really me. It’s Jacob. Jacob Gabriel. Father

Jacob? Jacob, is that really you? I’ve dreamed of you, son, but… but is this real? Is it really happening?

I’ve dreamed of it, too. And it’s happening, Father, it’s real.

But how? How is it we can communicate?

Thoughts are energy. We’re both Hunahpu. We share similar frequencies. Father, where are you?

I don’t know. I’m not even sure I exist. I have no physical form, but somehow I can think, and I can feel emotions. It’s as if I exist in a vacuum of energy, only I can’t escape.

Something’s out there, isn’t it? Something’s frightening you. It’s as if I can taste your fear. Father, what is it?

It’s the Abomination… I can feel its presence. It’s like ice, hovering in the periphery. It circles me like the shadow of death, always waiting for me to drop my defenses.

But what is it?

A presence of pure evil. It wants to feast on my soul.

Tell me what to do! How can I help?

You have helped, son, more than you’ll ever know. I’ve been so lost, drowning in loneliness and despair. Your thought energy… it’s like a lighthouse beacon to my soul. You’ve strengthened me, you’ve given me hope. I know now that I haven’t been abandoned, that I’m not alone. You’ve given me a newfound sense of being.

Father, there’s so much I need to ask you. The Mayan Creation Myth

… is it true? Am I really the son of One Hunahpu? Is it really possible for me and my brother to travel to Xibalba? Can you be… resurrected?

There’s no easy answer to that. There’s so much I need to tell you, and I want to, I have to, but it’s dangerous. The effort to communicate weakens me, and the Abomination hovers… waiting for me to lower my guard. Still, I must try, there’s so much at stake. Jacob, how old are you now?

Seven.

My God…

Father?

Wherever I am, it’s impervious to time. You say you’re seven?

Yes.

My own journey… it also began when I was seven. In fact, it was at seven that I first encountered evil.

Teach me, please! Tell me how it began for you.

I‘ll try. The memories… they’re very powerful, so vivid. I can still recall inhaling the scent of the rain forest, registering its heaviness in my lungs. I can hear its nocturnal symphony playing in my ears. And the Peruvian desert… as I recall the desolation of that awful Nazca plateau, I can almost feel the blood pooling in my extremities as the afternoon heat baked my skin in its searing embrace.

That was my childhood, Jacob, an existence spent in Mesoamerican jungles and on the harsh plateau of Nazca. My parents, Julius and Maria, your paternal grandparents, they had been archaeology students who had first met at Cambridge. Their love blossomed on their own journey as they set out to resolve the mystery of the Mayan calendar and its two thousand-year-old doomsday prophecy. Me? I was the result of their fateful union, born, like you, as destiny’s victim.

I don’t feel like a victim. Most of the time I feel like Superman.

Careful, son. Even Superman has his kryptonite. Although my Hunahpu genes were not as developed as yours must be, I also felt superior. By the age of seven I had grown into quite the brat, rebelling against everything my parents were attempting to teach me.

You said you encountered evil?

Yes. At the time we were living in a one-room, stucco dwelling in Piste, a tiny village outside of Chichen Itza. I remember the day it happened, a typical morning in the Gabriel clan. Julius had just grounded me for swapping a pair of his best binoculars for a baseball glove and ball, and I was furious, stomping and cussing up a storm. The moment my parents left for the ruins, I packed a small bag, my passport, and a few pesos borrowed from my mother’s purse-and I headed out to begin my life anew.

You ran away?

I had to. I felt boxed in, unable to cope, unable to just be myself. But I had a plan. Merida and its airport were seventy-five miles to the west. Somehow I would stow away on board a plane bound for America. Even though I was only seven, I had already aced my high-school equivalency test and was being recruited by several universities. If I could just get to the States, I knew I could survive.

Guess I’d been walking less than an hour when a taxi pulled off the road. I immediately recognized the driver-T’quan Lwin Canul-a middle-aged local of pure Mayan descent. He had a large nose and dark eyes, and wore his black, oily hair long and braided. Tattoos ran up and down his body, and jewelry pierced his ears and heavy brows. More bizarre was his tongue, the tip of which had been sliced down the middle and forcibly separated over time so that the last two inches were forked, resembling that of a viper.

The ‘serpent’s tongue’ gave T’quan a heavy lisp. He leaned out his open window at me, and hissed, ‘Going somewhere, mas’sa?’

‘Off to see a distant cousin,’ I lied. ‘What would it cost me to get a ride to Merida?’

T’quan gave me a price, then mentioned he needed some assistance cutting down a tree. We struck a deal. If I helped him, he would have me in Merida by nightfall.

And you believed him?

I was naive, and the truth is disguised by what we want to hear. Before I knew it, we were bouncing along a dirt path, cutting through dense jungle. Eventually we came to a small clearing and T’quan’s hut, which sat adjacent to a freshwater sinkhole.

The old man led me inside and offered me a drink. I watched as he dipped his cup into a wooden barrel, the scent of the fermented ceremonial drink known as pulque drifting up at me. ‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘Where is the tree?’

‘Forget the tree,’ he said, ‘I require help with a ritual. Tell me, mas’sa, have you ever heard the story of Tezcaplipoca?’

‘You mean Tezcatilpoca,’ I corrected, as if I knew everything about the ancient ones.

‘That is Aztec pronunciation,’ he said. ‘To the Nahuas, he was Tezcaplipoca, god of the night, god of evil, a creature of black magic.’ As he spoke, T’quan opened a container of what appeared to be scarlet dye and proceeded to paint a stripe across the bridge of his beaked nose. ‘Tezcaplipoca was the mirror that smoked. It was his presence that drove Kukulcan from Chichen Itza. He was our greatest and most feared god.’

T’quan told me his Nahua ancestors had lived in this same jungle a thousand years ago. While Kukulcan built temples, T’quan’s clan followed Tezcaplipoca-god of conflict and turmoil, god of power.

The old man removed his tee shirt, revealing a bony, dark-skinned canvas of chest, covered in tattoos. Draping a black cape around his shoulders, he led me back outside to the sinkhole, the very cenote T’quan’s ancestors had used to worship Tezcaplipoca.

I looked out over the edge. The drop was more than thirty feet, and the well’s stagnant olive waters were dark and foreboding. And that, Jacob, is when I finally realized what T’quan meant to do-he meant to sacrifice me to Tezcaplipoca, just as his ancestors had done a thousand years before.

I turned to run, but the wiry old man was too quick. He grabbed me by the arm and pushed me to the ground, pressing his heavy boot to my chest. From a sheath on his belt he removed a ceremonial obsidian dagger. As I screamed, struggling in vain along the edge of the sinkhole, he rolled his eyes to the heavens and began chanting.

What did you do?

At first I panicked, but as the adrenaline flowed, a strange sensation gripped my soul, and a tiny voice in my mind guided my consciousness into a harbor of utter calm. I stopped struggling and allowed my mind to slip inside.

The nexus?

Yes. I remember looking at the trees, which seemed to be getting brighter, the leaves no longer moving with the breeze. Shadowed objects became clear in my vision, while the old man’s words seemed to mute into distant echoes. I could hear my heart pumping blood-a slow, drawn-out slurp. I could feel my muscles growing stronger, as if adrenaline was coursing through every vessel in my body. The weight of the old man’s boot seemed to lessen upon my chest and I knew that if I tried, I could fling it aside… which is what I did.

In one motion, I was back on my feet, pushing through invisible waves of resistance, as if the air itself had become gelid. T’quan barely seemed to react. I followed his eyes as they slowly drifted down to me, his pierced brows raising in disbelief. Quickly, I dashed behind him, then, with all my might, I kicked the old Mayan in the small of his bony back.

It must have been a mighty blow through that thickened air, for he flew forward in slow motion, rising as if gravity had abandoned him. And then he fell, his limbs flapping uselessly as his body dropped silently into the waters below.

Serves him right. What happened then?

A burning sensation ravaged my gut. I fell to my knees and shook my head violently-and the sounds of the woods returned. For several moments, I lay on the ground, my muscles drenched in lactic acid, twitching in recovery until splashing sounds drew me to the edge of the hole.

The old man was struggling to stay afloat, his gaunt figure hopelessly entangled in his soaked cloth cape.

I stood and watched my would-be killer… watched as he sank beneath the surface. When the air bubbles ceased, I climbed in his taxi and drove out of the jungle, back to Piste.

I had never driven a car before. I could barely reach the pedals, yet it seemed perfectly natural. An hour later, I returned to the old man’s home with my parents and the police, who dredged T’quan’s corpse from the sinkhole’s muddy bottom-along with the remains of no less than a dozen other children the old man had murdered over the years.

That was my first encounter with evil and the powers that we possess, Jacob, but it wouldn’t be my last.

I need to know more about evil. Where does it come from? How did it start?

That, my son, is a question your grandfather, Julius, pondered until his dying day. Is evil something genetically programmed into our species, or is it a learned behavior? Is it spiritual in nature, perhaps the Yin to the soul’s Yang. Or is it a disease that infects the mind? T’quan had a look in his eyes when he came after me, one that I’ll never forget. It was as if the old man’s soul had vacated the body and separated itself from the collective warmth of our species. Julius called the man a godless reptile, and for a long time I agreed with him, until the night I witnessed my own father straddling my mother’s body, suffocating her with a pillow.

Julius murdered Grandma?

He claimed it was euthanasia, but in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, it was murder. Looking back on it now, I realize just how much Julius loved my mother, how hard it was to do what he did. She was in so much pain from the cancer, she begged him for mercy, and he gave it to her. At the same time, I also realize how evil is created, because from that moment on, I hated Julius for what he had done, and I allowed my anger to fester, until it finally exploded backstage as I held my dead father in my arms and went after Pierre Borgia.

When you were in solitary for so long – how were you able to keep from… you know, from going insane?

For a while, I thought I had gone insane. Then, during my eighth month, I drifted into a semilucid state, for all intents and purposes, an out-of-body experience.

I don’t understand?

Nor did I at the time. It was my Hunahpu DNA. The gene was somehow programming my mind to take a visual reconnaissance into humanity’s past. My first journey deposited my consciousness on a Mediterranean shoreline, somewhere in the Middle East. From out of the sea strode a large humanoid male, his appearance bordering on the bizarre. His skin was as dark as cocoa, in sharp contrast to his long silky hair and beard, which were snow-white. His eyes were a deep azure-blue, set within an almost inhumanly elongated skull.

I would learn his name was Osiris.

But this was all just a dream?

No, son, it was quite real. I was remote-viewing an actual event that had taken place ten thousand years in the past. In my transcendental state, my consciousness had tapped into a matrix of energy, similar to what you and I are experiencing. Because the events had taken place in the past, I was able to witness the events as if I were there, as if I were one of Osiris’s nomad followers. Osiris turned my people into a functioning society. He directed us to dam the Nile delta, forming an artificial lake. He taught us how to cut immense ten-ton stones from basalt quarries. I marveled as he used his scepter-like device to lift the blocks onto barges, transmitting strange sonic harmonics that seemed to reverse the effects of gravity. More than two million stones were moved in this manner, transported through the pre-flooded valley until they were placed into position, using the surface of the lake as a perfect plane of reference.

Osiris was engineering three of the largest structural foundations in the world-the bases of the Great Pyramids of Giza, and somehow I had become one of his laborers!

Viewing those experiences is ultimately what preserved my mind. For while my body was confined to that dark, decrepit cell, my consciousness was free to roam.

As the years drifted by, my mind accompanied more of the wise men on their journeys. In England, I was part of a sect that followed the teachings of an extraterrestrial who told us his name was Merlin. This ‘wizard’ used his own stafflike device to help us transport the great sarsens that were used to erect Stonehenge. In South America, another wise man-Virococha-used a similar device to carve immense patterns into the Nazca plateau-the very zoomorphs whose meaning had eluded my father and me for decades.

What I didn’t know at the time was that these wise men with their elongated skulls, majestic blue eyes, and white hair and beards were actually members of the Guardian. Attuned to their signal line through my own Hunahpu genetics, I was being prepared.

Prepared for what?

Four Ahau, three Kankin – the winter solstice of 2012-humanity’s day of doom, prophesied in the Mayan calendar. I realized that wallowing in my emotions was doing me no good. I had to focus. I had to stay strong. My life served a greater purpose. If a holocaust was truly coming, then I knew I had to stop it.

My cell became a war room. A regimen was established, combining rigorous exercise, meditation, and remote-viewing sessions. Pieces of an ancient puzzle began falling into place. There was a means to our salvation-I just had to find it.

But first, I had to escape.

Sometime during my last year in isolation, the state of Massachusetts determined that the antiquated facility I called Hell would close down. Pierre Borgia, by then U.S. secretary of state, immediately arranged for Dr. Foletta, my personal keeper, to transfer himself and me to an asylum in Miami.

It was the summer of 2012.

The rules at the Miami facility were different, each inmate assigned a team. No longer able to exert his autocratic rule, Dr. Foletta needed someone on the staff he could manipulate into signing off on my yearly evaluation. His pawn would arrive a week later in the guise of a graduate student.

My mother?

Yes. She was so beautiful, so enticing… consuming all my thoughts, disfocusing me from the mission at hand. I tried to quell my love for her, but as the doomsday drew nearer, our souls touched. Then, in her most difficult hour, your mother sacrificed everything she held dear and helped me escape.

Together we discovered the Balam, a starship buried long ago beneath the Kukulcan Pyramid. Within this vessel we found the remains of Kukulcan, the last survivor of a more advanced humanoid race called the Guardian. The Guardian had come to our planet long ago, fleeing the rise of evil that had enslaved their people, transforming their world into a hellish existence. The Guardian had avoided enslavement by taking refuge on one of their planet’s moons. But the evil ones were not satisfied with their conquest. Inhabiting their planet was an alien serpentine creature that could bridge the gap between dimensions of time and space. Trapping the creature aboard a transport ship, they sent it into space and through a wormhole. Members of the Guardian brotherhood chased after the transport in the Balam. Their vessel’s presence in the wormhole altered the wormhole’s trajectory… depositing both ships in our solar system, 65 million years into Earth’s past. This historic journey not only resulted in a cataclysm that wiped out the dinosaurs, it created a causal time loop in third-dimensional space.

Most of the transport was destroyed upon impact, but the life-support pod containing the creature remained intact.

Knowing a deep-space radio transmission could awaken the creature, the Guardian programmed the Balam to remain in orbit above Earth. The ship would deflect any incoming signals while the Guardian remained immersed in sleep pods. Sometime around 11,000 B.C., the Balam landed in the dense jungles of the Yucatan Peninsula, not far from where their enemy lay buried beneath the Gulf of Mexico.

It was about this time that the great flood caused by the last ice age thawed, and Homo sapiens became the dominant species on the planet.

The Guardian had a two-phased plan for humanity. Awakening in intervals, each member was assigned the task of erecting an electromagnetic relay station at key points around the globe. When completed, this astrogeodetic array would link with the Balam, creating an electromagnetic grid around the entire planet. The grid would prevent the creature from using its weapons to alter our planet’s atmosphere for its carbon-dioxide-breathing masters. Each Guardian had the challenge of camouflaging his relay station so that the array’s relay stations would remain undisturbed over thousands of years. Their solution was to bury the antennae beneath monolithic structures so magnificent in size and structure that they would forever remain undisturbed by modern man.

Great civilizations came into being, and with them rose the Pyramids of Giza and Stonehenge, the Pyramid of the Sun, and the Temples of Angkor Wat.

One of the last of the brotherhood to be revived was Kukulcan. Under his tutelage, the Mayans rose to power and the Kukulcan Pyramid was built-directly above the burial site of the Balam. All that was needed was someone to activate the device in the year 2012.

This was the second phase of the Guardian’s plan. Each member of the brotherhood would not only instruct his people, but spread his genetic seed using our women. By mixing the Guardian’s superior DNA with Homo sapiens DNA, our species genetically leapfrogged up the evolutionary ladder.

The Guardian’s DNA is the so-called missing link?

Yes. But the Guardian were capable of much more than simply siring a new subspecies, they could also manipulate their DNA so that genetic anomalies like them would reach maturation around the time of the predicted day of reckoning. They called these superior beings the Hunahpu.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I carried the Hunahpu gene, passed down to me from my maternal ancestors. By activating the Balam ’s array, I not only prevented the creature from using its weapons, I also stopped an all-out nuclear war between the superpowers.

Days later, the alien creature ascended from the Gulf, intent on destroying the Balam ’s electromagnetic array. I was waiting in Chichen Itza to meet it. Tapping into my newly discovered Hunaphu powers, I was able to access the Balam ’s weapon, which deactivated the cybernetic beast.

But you entered the creature’s mouth? Why?

To prevent the Under Lords of Xibalba from arriving on Earth. The creature had succeeded in shunting the Balam ’s array, opening a corridor of the nexus that bridged the gap between Earth and the Xibalban Underworld. Inside this corridor were two demons, disguised as my mother and Dominique. Having been warned about the deception by the Guardian, I killed both of those evil souls, completing my mission.

Or so I thought.

The Guardian offered me a choice. I could live out my days as Michael Gabriel or continue to evolve as One Hunahpu and journey to Xibalba to save the lost souls of the Nephilim.

Who are the Nephilim?

The Fallen Ones, human souls who were being tortured on Xibalba. I had remote-viewed their terror. Thousands of men, women, and children-all suffering at the hands of their oppressors. As Michael Gabriel, I could have ignored them, but as One Hunahpu, I realized I was their only hope.

With heavy heart I took one last look at your mother’s face, then climbed into the Guardian’s pod. Moments later, I found myself hurtling through space, leaving Earth forever… through a wormhole, racing to Xibalba – where the origin of mankind’s evil was waiting.

The origin of mankind’s evil? Father, I don’t understand.

Humanity is caught in a bubble of space-time, each successive journey through the wormhole looping history. What has happened before will happen again, unless the paradox can be broken. My presence on Xibalba somehow reinforces this paradox, yet it also serves to keep the door to humanity’s own salvation open. You see, Jacob, there are two crossroads that face humanity, one in 2012, one more in your own near future. I cannot tell you about this second holocaust, but if left unchecked, it will terminate life on Earth as surely as the events of 2012 nearly did.

What is it?

Again, I cannot say, but only a Hunahpu can prevent it.

Is it my destiny to stop it?

I don’t see how. According to the Popol Vuh, you and your brother will make the journey to Xibalba aboard the Balam soon after your twentieth birthday, long before the second event.

And if we don’t make the journey?

Then the second holocaust will wipe out humanity.

Father, is Manny Hunahpu? I know he shares our DNA, but the gene seems recessive.

Your brother’s powers may grow stronger in years to come or they may not appear at all. All I know is that…

Father?

Father, what’s wrong?

The Abomination. It senses our communication.

What should I do?

I should have known better. You’re too young, it’s too easy for the Abomination to use you. Even as we speak, it grows stronger in your energy field. You need to learn how to disguise it before we can communicate again.

Teach me how.

I can’t, it’s a strength that comes with age. Find me again when you’re older.

How old?

Wait at least another seven years. Your Hunahpu powers will strengthen as you get older.

Father, I can’t wait that long -

You have to. I’ll be all right. Time isn’t the same here as it is for you. Go now, quickly, before the Abomination pierces my defenses!

Father, I love you. Father?

Jacob awakens, staring into the teary eyes of his mother. ‘Jake? What happened?’

‘I spoke with-’ Don’t tell her, she’ll only worry. ‘It’s okay, Mother. I’m fine.’

Dominique turns to the president. ‘That’s it, Ennis. No more remote viewing, do you understand? No more training! No more tests!’ She looks at her son. ‘And no more talk about Mayan death gods and Xibalba. Somehow, some way, we’re going to find a way for you and Manny to live normal lives.’