The Mayan Resurrection

29

1:14 p.m.

They are seated on a second-floor balcony overlooking a Japanese garden-Dr. Mohr, Immanuel Gabriel, his mother, and the twin he has not seen in six years.

Jacob’s surreal blue eyes stare at him, unblinking.

‘Jesus Christ, would you stop staring at me?’

‘I missed you.’

‘You mean you missed manipulating me.’

‘You’re my twin. We belong together.’

‘Get over it. You can’t just drag me back into your delusions after all these years. I’m Samuel Agler now. I have a life!’

Dr. Mohr interjects. ‘Let’s everybody just stay calm. No one’s forcing anyone to do anything. Manny, er… Sam, we brought you here because your brother’s worried about you.’

‘You’ve been tapping into the nexus,’ Jacob says, ‘using it to enhance your performance on the athletic field.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘It’s dangerous, Manny. There are others like us out there, others who share this Hunahpu gene. Every time you enter the nexus, you make your presence known to them.’

‘How many others?’

‘I don’t know, one… a hundred… a thousand.’

‘A thousand more freaks like you running around? I doubt it.’

Jacob ignores the remark. ‘Eleven thousand years ago, the Guardian began an interbreeding program with ancient man. The Guardian is mankind’s missing link. In the process of mixing their DNA with ours, they created a sort of genetic time bomb, hoping that one of these Hunahpu would find his or her way to their starship in the year 2012. The Hunahpu would be able to use their genetic calling card to access the vessel and its weapons system, knowing the human race would need it on 4 Ahau, 3 Kankin, a date forecast in the Mayan calendar, equating to the winter solstice in 2012. Our biological father, Michael Gabriel, was Hunahpu. He wasn’t the only “chosen one,” he just happened to be the poor sap who managed to cross the finish line first.’

‘And thank God he did,’ Dominique adds. ‘Your father saved humanity.’

Immanuel shakes his head at his mother. ‘Still buying into all this, I see.’

Jacob sees the hurt in Dominique’s eyes. ‘Mother, Doc, I need to speak with Manny alone.’

Dr. Mohr nods, then leads Dominique inside, closing the patio door behind him.

‘That was rude, Manny.’

‘Look who’s calling the kettle black? Her heart bleeds for him, and you stomp on it every day.’

‘I didn’t bring you here to fight. There’s another Hunahpu out there like me. She’s the one I fear.’

Immanuel looks away.

Jacob’s eyes widen. ‘You’ve spoken with her?’

‘No.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘Maybe she spoke with me.’

‘Maybe?’

‘Look, I’ll stay out of the zone. I was planning on quitting football anyway.’

‘Manny, this is way beyond your football career. This is about you finally accepting who and what we really are.’

‘Here we go again.’

A violet tinge appears in Jacob’s eyes as he loses his temper. Grabbing an empty chair, he flings it over the balcony rail.

Manny’s eyes widen. ‘Well, well, what happened to Mister Transcendental Meditation?’

‘Immanuel, for once, would you please just shut your mouth and listen!’ Jacob closes his eyes and breathes, slowing his pulse, regaining his composure. ‘Have you ever experienced a deja vu, that strange feeling that you’ve lived through a particular scene or situation before.’

‘I know what a deja vu is.’

‘And what if you had lived through a particular moment before? What if the concepts of time and space are mere byproducts of our three-dimensional existence, which binds us… anchors us, if you will, to the physical world.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘There’s so much we don’t know about existence. What really happens when we die? Is there really an afterlife? Do we possess a soul? Does God exist? The answers to these questions are not available to us because they lie in another dimension, a realm of eternity where there is no concept of time, only pure life force… pure existence… hyperspace.

‘There’s a fundamental level of quantum existence all around us. Awareness of this energy field comes hard to most people. Certain individuals, Buddhist monks, for instance, can train their minds to look deep into the soul. You and I were born with this ability-an ability that others spend their entire lives hoping to achieve.’

‘Meaning what? You can see dead people?’

Jacob shakes his head. ‘Forget everything you think you know about life and death. Our physical bodies are nothing more than flesh-and-bone suits inhabited by the soul, which, in essence, is quantum energy. We may die physically, but spiritually our souls continue to exist. What separates you and me from the rest of humanity is that we have the genetic ability to move back and forth within the nexus, both physically and mentally, without having to die.’

‘I don’t understand?’

‘The nexus is an existence that bridges the worlds of the physical and spiritual, the “ether” that out-of-body travelers have historically described. Scores of people have crossed through it and come back to tell us about it. A person dies. He sees a bright light and finds himself drawn toward its soothing embrace. Perhaps he’s escorted through the light by a deceased loved one, assigned to provide guidance. And then- whoosh -the dead man is miraculously revived and all that is left are his memories of the journey and a lasting sense that he will never again fear the unknown.’

‘Like Evelyn Strongin?’

‘Yes, like Evelyn Strongin.’

Manny nods. ‘The only thing that happens when I access the zone is that everything sort of slows down. I see the light, but I never enter it.’

‘That’s because you can’t, at least not yet. My Hunahpu abilities are more defined than yours, allowing me to go deeper in the nexus into the more spiritual realm of the corridor. That’s where I first encountered Lilith.’

‘The female Hunahpu?’

Jacob nods. ‘Evelyn warned me to stay away from her. She somehow sensed that Lilith was being exposed to the influences of the lesser lights. And so Lilith killed her.’

‘She’s the one who murdered Aunt Evelyn?’

Jacob nods.

‘What does any of this have to do with this whole NASA setup you’ve got going?’

Jacob leans forward. ‘What if I told you that our three-dimensional physical world has been caught up in what can best be described as a loop of time and space. Dr. Mohr would call it a fourth-dimensional warp, creating a temporal “boomerang” effect. The essence of this effect is that major events that happen on our planet have, in fact, happened before and will happen again-unless we do something about it. Specific variables may change, whom we marry, what jobs we take, what choices we make on a daily basis. Chaos theory abounds at the infinitesimal level, but the big picture always remains the same-our history as a species continues to replay itself over and over again.’

‘How’s that possible?’

‘The time loop began in what you’d call the distant future when the Guardian’s starship, the Balam, chases an asteroid-like transport ship through a wormhole 65 million years into our past. The time loop ends, or repeats itself sometime in the near future. A monstrous cataclysm is going to take place, one so devastating it will wipe out nearly every life-form on our planet. Only a handful of humans will survive by relocating to a colony established on Mars. A fraction of these survivors will travel through another wormhole to another section of our galaxy, inadvertently creating a closed causal loop in space-time.’

Manny starts laughing, a nervous laugh, driven by spent nerves and fatigue. ‘You’ve been reading too much science fiction; it’s warped that brilliant mind of yours. A closed causal time loop?’ He wipes tears from his eyes. ‘How do you know all this?’

Jacob shakes his head. ‘You won’t believe me.’

‘I don’t believe you now.’

‘Existence is energy, Manny, making transdimensional communication possible. I’ve been in contact with someone from the other side, someone who’s been… advising me.’

‘Who?’

‘Don’t tell Mother.’

‘Who?’

‘Our father.’

Immanuel covers his head. ‘Oy vey…’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘ Oy vey means the guys in the white coats will be coming for you soon.’

‘Manny-’

‘Mick’s dead, Jake. He’s been dead for twenty years. You’re never going to meet our long-lost lunatic father. Never. So get over it.’

‘He wasn’t a lunatic, and you’re wrong. Our father fulfilled his destiny, and so will we. Under the spiritual guidance of the Guardian, Mick made the ultimate sacrifice-to return to Xibalba in order to save the souls of the Nephilim.’

‘The Nephilim?’

‘The Fallen Ones, the ones whom the Guardian were forced to leave behind when they came to Earth. The Nephilim are being tortured. Our father was chosen to be their messiah, only he failed, just as the Guardian knew he would, just as is written in the Mayan Popol Vuh. Now it’s up to you and me to rescue him. We need to save his soul and those of the Nephilim. Open your eyes, Manny. Accept our destiny so I can prepare you.’

‘Maybe it’s your destiny, not mine. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Ah, but you are, just as you have long ago. You are the Yin to my Yang. Only together can we hope to succeed.’

‘Okay, Dim Son, I’ve had it-I’m out of here.’ Immanuel tries to push his way past Jacob, but the white-haired twin is too strong. In one motion he pivots around his brother, catching him from behind in a choking headlock.

‘I love you, Manny. I gave you six years, but now it’s time-time for you to join me. Did you really believe God gave you these abilities so you could score touchdowns? The sooner you face your destiny, the better prepared you’ll be for what awaits us on Xibalba .’

A wisp of thought, in the consciousness of existence.

It took our secret band of scientists eight weeks to squirrel away a year’s worth of supplies and make one of the three Mars shuttles spaceworthy.

Our Guardian clan now numbered thirty-seven: Twenty men, twelve women, and five children-three of whom were first-generation infants born with elongated skulls. Through genetic manipulation, New Eden’s women could control their ovulations and times of conception. They could select boy or girl, even fraternal or identical twins. Most important, the mother could influence an unborn infant’s chromosomes while in the womb, preventing disease, even altering certain attributes-including the size and shape of the newborn’s skull.

This type of genetic manipulation seemed amateurish in comparison to the mind-boggling things Professor Bobinac and I had discovered down on the planet’s surface. Situated beneath the floating city was a vast genetics compound erected on the shoreline of an artificially created sea. Within this facility, the transhumans had left behind evidence of an advanced gene-splicing technique that combined cybernetics with synthetic artificial intelligence enhancements to produce a biomimeticbiomemnetic organism. These beings, dubbed Tezcatilpoca by their transhuman masters, had been weaned within the silvery exotic liquids contained in their artificial sea.

Holographic records showed the Tezcatilpoca had grown into immense cybernetic serpents-each silicon-tissued monster as large as a train-with sixteen nodes positioned along their frightening spines. Incredibly, these nodes were crystal lattices designed to amplify and focus gravity C-waves and fluxes in zero-point energy, a godlike source of power that had eluded scientists back on Earth. Apparently, the crystal lattices provided a form of synergy or harmonics necessary for the channeling of these incredible energies.

But for what purpose?

As unfathomable as it seemed, Professor Bobinac and I theorized that the transhumans had discovered a way to manipulate wormholes through the use of hypersonics. The Tezcatilpoca creatures created ‘magnetic bottles’ that bridged the gap between our own physical dimension and the higher realms of existence.

As the day of our secret departure approached, I knew I had to leave my fascinating studies behind. Devlin and his mother were creating a new religion that bordered on a Satanic cult, and the colonists, save our Guardian members, were becoming unquestioning followers.

My biggest concern then was Jude. As founder of the Guardian brotherhood, I had established strict rules regarding secrecy, each new recruit having to pass a number of ‘loyalty’ tests before they could be ‘brought in.’ Though I had been ‘testing’ her for months, Jude remained a steadfast Devlin worshiper, refusing to heed my concerns.

Jude’s refusal to listen would create a major rift between the shared consciousness of Michael Gabriel and Bill Raby.

Bill Raby loved Jude the way I loved your mother, his emotions soothing a void in our collective soul. As the moment of our departure grew near, his consciousness became more forceful, fearful of losing the woman he adored.

To complicate matters, two days before we were to depart, Jude told us she was pregnant.

Desperate, our shared mind began working on her more intensely.

‘Jude, I overheard a rumor today that Devlin’s guards dismembered another New Edener. If it’s true, that’s six in the last two months. Doesn’t that worry you?’

‘Our Creator speaks through Devlin. If there are nonbelievers and deceivers among us, then the traitors need to be dealt with.’

‘Traitors to whom?’

‘To our Creator, of course. He who brought us here. He who saved us from ourselves back on Earth.’

‘Then you believe the death of billions was a planned event?’

‘Of course. Read the Bible. Wasn’t Noah’s flood a planned event?’

‘I can’t accept that. I think you and the others accept it because we’re all so overburdened with survivor’s guilt.’

‘Bill, you’ll never be happy unless you open your heart to the Creator so that He might show you the way. Come worship with me tonight in our angel’s house. Listen to the truth, my darling, and the truth shall set you free.’

Jude’s brainwashing ran deep, yet I could not bear the thought of leaving without her. Realizing my only chance at luring her away was to learn more about her ‘angel,’ I agreed to attend Devlin’s service.

The Mabus House of Worship was an immense transhuman dwelling, its alien archways and flying buttresses giving it the feel of a futuristic Notre Dame. Inside the hall were thousands of hover pods-private antigravitational pews that formed a ring around Devlin’s pulpit.

Two ‘thrones’ were positioned in the center ring. In one sat Devlin, a crown of gold leaves situated atop his curly black hair, his wings folded in behind him. To his right was his mother, Lilith, the sheer material of her ‘priest’s robe’ screaming blasphemy to the Judeo-Christian values both Bill and Michael Gabriel had been raised under.

A cherub-faced transhuman male took his place at the dais, gazing at the capacity crowd through false rose-colored glasses. Instead of using the now-familiar telepathy, he spoke aloud, his Louisiana drawl sounding bizarre in these most alien of settings.

‘And the truth, dear brothers and sisters, shall set you free. Yes, these are wondrous times, yet a gray cloud has invaded our lord’s blue sky. False prophets have infiltrated New Eden, my friends. They cleverly disseminate their destructive Earthly heresies among you, hoping to infect our New World and turn you against our archangel, Devlin, whose generosity and wisdom brought us to our cosmic oasis. In their jealousy, our enemies concoct clever lies, hoping you will be led astray. But fear not, devoted souls, for God condemned them long ago, and they will all soon suffer a swift and terrible end.’

A chorus of ‘Amen.’

I felt Bill’s consciousness crawl cold beneath my own.

‘For our Creator and his archangel spare no one when it comes to blasphemy and sin, just as God spared only Noah and his family of seven from the Great Flood back on Earth, just as the Creator spared only our chosen flock from the devastation and ice age that consumed the seven billion lost souls shortly after our escape. These false teachers are unthinking creatures, born to be caught and killed. Be not sympathetic, for their destruction is a just reward for the harm they have done. They are a disgrace and a stain among you, and their arrogance is laughable.’

And then this plump man removed his comical rose-colored glasses and stared at me.

I could feel the eyes of the congregation upon me.

Devlin stood, his wings standing on end-a hawk, about to strike. In a soothing, almost loving tone, he said, ‘Seize and dismember him.’

A hundred hands were upon me, dragging me from my floating pew. They stripped me naked and stretched me out on the floor, prey for the Seraph, Devlin, who hovered above, brandishing a pair of three-pronged silver claws in his hands.

Adrenaline soared through my body as my mind tried to fathom the hideous death to come.

What followed then, dear Jacob, was truly a miracle.

In the midst of my terror, my being was suddenly overcome by a strange, yet familiar feeling-a feeling of utter calm. It was the same feeling I had experienced in my childhood as Michael Gabriel, when the treacherous T’quan had pinned me down by the edge of the Yucatan well.

It was the same feeling I had whenever I remote-viewed.

I stopped struggling, allowing my mind to enter the void.

The cathedral appeared to brighten. Above, the winged Devlin seemed frozen, his unchanging expression-a mask of rage.

My heart pumped in my ears, and I could feel my muscles growing stronger. In one fluid motion, I yanked my arms free from the worshipers’ grip and jumped to my feet.

Devlin stared past me through half-closed eyes, his pout-mouth halfway in sentence. For a fleeting moment, I felt the urge to leap into the air and tear those wings from his spine, to rip his throat apart – until I felt the icy presence of another pair of eyes upon me.

It was Lilith.

Her mouth never moved, but her telepathic voice made me cringe. I feel you, One Hunahpu. I’ve been waiting for your arrival for a very long time.

Her words seemed to pierce my soul, injecting me with a fear so intense that I nearly leapt out of my tingling skin. Still naked, I pushed through invisible waves of energy and raced out of the alien chapel, every muscle in my body burning with lactic acid, the voice of the Succubus cooing to me from the void – while Bill Raby’s consciousness screamed at me for abandoning his Jude.

I ran from that ungodly chapel, racing through the streets of New Eden at inhuman speed, continuing until I arrived at the home of Christopher Coburn, a close friend and agricultural scientist known within the Guardian’s inner circles as Viracocha. Leaping from the void, I pounded on his door, my overwrought muscles burning with lactic acid.

Chris dragged me inside, sending an encoded warning through the Guardian ‘grapevine’ while I hurriedly dressed. Then we ran from his dwelling, making our way to the spaceship.

Devlin’s people were scouring the city, hunting us like vermin. Those caught were publicly eviscerated and crucified, the children thrown into labor camps for ‘retraining.’

Only twenty-four Guardian made it off New Eden alive.

Omnipotence in the hands of a sociopath is a dangerous thing. As challenges are vanquished, boredom sets in. Eventually, even the private orgies and human sacrifices become trivial.

I suppose I always knew what Devlin was planning, ever since the day I first discovered the posthuman arena. Mabus and his mother coveted immortality, and the godlike powers of the higher realms were a temptation too strong to avoid.

They would stop at nothing until they could locate the portal into the posthumans’ netherworld.

I am certain now that this was the reason Xibalba ’s society had split. While some transhuman beings sought immortality in the spiritual domain, others must have believed there remained some discoveries better left to God.

Having barely escaped the domed city, we directed our lumbering spacecraft into orbit, landing on the far side of the larger of the two moons, hoping the satellite’s mass would deafen our enemy’s telepathy.

The moon was a lifeless rock floating in space. No water. No soil for growing. Even with our ‘enlightened brains’ how long could we possibly survive there?

Imagine our shock when we discovered the transhumans’ abandoned lunar outpost.

Smaller than New Eden, it was nonetheless a habitat of immense proportions and incredible technology. Located within an immense dome-covered crater, the abandoned habitat held oxygen-and water-processing plants, agricultural pods, and solar-powered reactors. Dominating the periphery of the crater were acres of photovoltaic solar panels-massive trackable sheets stretching seven storeys high.

The most impressive structure had been erected within the heart of the dome itself. It was a monstrous pyramid, a copy of Egypt’s Giza, only three times the size. The facing was composed of translucent gold-paneled mirrors-conduits channeling enormous amounts of energy into the structure – as if the pyramid were a massive, cybernetic incubator.

Inside this lunar fortress we discovered artificial intelligence… harbored in the guise of a dart-shaped, gold-paneled starship.

The Balam.

The sight of the ship tore at the fabric of my very existence…