The Mayan Resurrection

42

Dominique waits until the streets are deserted, then waits ten minutes more.

Moving out from hiding, she hurries down the avenue to the lake, slipping and sliding in the gray mire.

She steals a quick glance to her left. The smooth, quicksilver surface of the lake sparkles crimson, reflecting the ceiling embers high overhead.

Must hurry… before the demon sentry in Jacob’s holographic program appears.

She jogs faster, adrenaline and fear distracting her brain from the physical pain, the double-edged sword gripped firmly in both hands.

Twenty years of existence, twenty years of nightmares. For six years she has watched her son prepare for war within this same hellish environment. But this is no holographic program, and she is not Jacob.

God, please let him still be alive.

She races past the alabaster tree, hurrying to the cross and its unconscious crucified victim.

‘Jake? Jacob, honey, it’s me!’ She reaches the wooden cross’s base, gazing up at its crucified figure – who slowly opens his iridescent eyes, a smile appearing on his angelic face.

Dominique’s jaw drops. ‘Devlin…’

The Seraph spreads its wings, then leaps off the cross, his feet pouncing on Dominique’s chest, his talonlike toenails puncturing her environmental suit.

And then his wings stop flapping, and he leans in closer, staring at her, his dark expression quizzical. ‘You’re not Immanuel?’ He straddles her chest and sniffs her neck, his nostrils inhaling her scent. ‘First-Mother! Where is your other son? Tell me now, or I’ll kill Jacob.’

‘I’ll tell you… but first… I want to see him!’

Devlin’s wings beat the air, lifting him off Dominique’s chest. Regaining his feet, he pulls her up by the hair, then drags her toward the calabash tree.

Jacob is on his back, his throat and limbs pinned beneath the tree’s thickly knotted alabaster roots.

‘Speak now, or he dies.’

‘Manny never made the voyage. I took his place.’

Devlin’s eyes blaze violet. ‘Impossible.’

‘It… it’s true.’

‘ Arrgggghh!’ Devlin clubs her in the back of the head, sending her crumpling to the oily ground-unconscious.

The Seraph closes his eyes, allowing his mind to slip inside the nexus. Lilith is waiting for his consciousness within the dense white haze.

Immanuel is not here, Mother. The twins have altered the past!

It doesn’t matter, as long as the portal to Hell is unsealed and Lucifer is resurrected.

But it takes the presence of both Hunahpu twins to unseal it.

You forget, we still have One Hunaphu. His presence, combined with Jacob’s, will provide all the energy needed to open the gate.

Yes, but we cannot tap into his energy field while he remains within his protected domain.

This time he’ll leave. We’ll lure him out using his loved ones.

The pain jerks Dominique awake as Devlin drags her by the hair toward the luminescent white tree.

The Seraph stands before the immense trunk, flapping his wings. ‘Open your eyes, One Hunahpu. I want you to gaze upon the face of your beloved soul mate as I violate her before your God!’

The being punches Dominique across the back of her shoulder blades, the crushing blow dropping her to the ground.

She feels the Seraph’s talons shred the remains of her environmental suit down the back, then screams through her regulator as he pulls her pants down, exposing her bare buttocks.

She gags as powerful hands lift her hips to his naked groin.

‘Unseal the portal, One Hunahpu, or I swear to Lucifer, I’ll rape and torture her every minute of eternity!’

Two pinpoints of aqua blue appear in the gooey white sap, the outline of a face revealing itself just beneath the surface of the calabash bark.

Ripples appear on the lake, and the surface begins undulating, as if something large is disturbing the depths.

Devlin stares at the exotic liquid. It’s happening. The portal’s opening!

Jacob opens his eyes.

The subterranean ceiling is alive with flames that leap away from the broiling embers like solar flares. He attempts to sit up but finds a great weight pressing against his throat, more resistance binding his upper torso and limbs to the ground.

He hears his mother’s cries. Feels his father’s presence.

Closing his eyes, he slips into the nexus.

Jacob Gabriel’s mind enters the frigid white mist and he is afraid.

It’s been an eternity, my love. Have you missed me?

The haunting whisper tickles his ear. He can smell the jasmine, then he sees her eyes, radiating a bright Hunahpu blue.

The lithe form moves out from the mist, her swollen breasts pressing against the sheer fabric of a vermilion-colored negligee.

Her gaze is drawn to his right arm, which is still raw and bleeding from the last attack. Come closer, cousin. Let me lick your wounds.

Jacob backs away.

Still frightened?

Devlin… is the monster my son?

He is Lucifer’s son.

It didn’t have to be like this, Lilith.

Ah, but it did. Her irises simmer violet in the supernatural light. I was born into Hell and I’ll die here, not as its victim but as its conqueror. Abandoned by God, I turned to the only ones left who would embrace me, those of the lesser lights.

They weren’t real, Lilith. They were voices in your head.

You were a voice in my head, but I still loved you! And what did you do? You abandoned me in my hour of need, first when we were teens, then when you left on the Balam. You helped sow the seeds of my corruption, now you can reap the harvest of your selfishness!

Lilith’s dark complexion pales to a ghostly white, the pupils of her azure eyes flaming to vermilion. The once-sensuous mouth deforms, twisting… distorting into a hideous vertical orifice. The purple labia-like lips widen, the grotesque grin chilling Jacob’s blood.

Moving toward him, the she-demon allows the straps of her nightgown to fall, then she steps out of the garment, exposing her vile sex.

Jacob swoons, unable to focus, the nexus whirling in his head.

She leaps for him, driving him backward as if he were struck by a sledgehammer. Straddling his chest, she claws at the remains of his body armor as he struggles to regain his breath, the slit of her hideous mouth pressing closer to his face, revealing multiple rows of tiny, razor-sharp black teeth.

Jacob dry heaves at her sulfuric breath. He grabs her throat with his right hand, attempting to keep her groping face away, while his free hand fights the claw at his groin, frantically attempting to prevent the rape.

From his isolated isle of calm, the consciousness that is Michael Gabriel feels the sudden disturbance within the nexus. A sense of dread overwhelms him as he registers waves of energy and senses the struggle so close to his protected domain.

Devlin abandons Dominique, moving as if in a trance toward the shoreline of the lake, whose waters now radiate an emerald tinge. ‘Hear me, Father. Send forth your demon sentry. Empty the pit of Babylon and reveal the Gates of Hell, so that I might release thee!’

Dominique crawls toward Jacob, distancing herself from the Seraph. ‘Jake? Jake, wake up!’

Jacob is pinned beneath the thick roots of the calabash tree, thrashing wildly, as if in the throes of a horrible nightmare.

The sound of a heavy gong tolls in the distance.

The village of the Fallen Ones empties, its members slowly making their way to the shoreline of the metamorphosing lake.

Jacob’s mind screams as he struggles in vain to keep the Succubus at bay.

Lilith’s face is hideous, taking on the proportion of a Gorgon. Amoeba-like mealworms crawl from porous openings along her flesh, releasing a putrid secretion and inhuman pheromones.

Jacob flings his head from side to side, gagging at the stench. Physically outmatched, mentally exhausted, pinned to the earth, he finds himself overwhelmed by a presence whose sheer force of will threatens to tear his own consciousness apart.

A bloodcurdling scream bellows from his throat as scalding-hot mucus drips from the Abomination’s naked loins.

Let me die, please God, I’d rather die -

Jacob cannot turn away as the Succubus increases her chokehold, a thousand icy pinpricks puncturing the fabric of his existence as he somersaults within her sulfuric lather, every cell in his body screaming for mercy.

And then he glimpses a shadowy figure appear from the hazy periphery, moving toward them through shimmering phase disturbances.

Father…

Michael Gabriel grabs the Abomination by her throat and flings the startled Succubus into the peripheral mist and out of the nexus.

Jacob crawls on his hands and knees into his father’s warming embrace.

The two exhausted Gabriels hold each other, feeding off each other’s energy as they stare into the haze, waiting for the she-devil to return.

Father… we have to leave the nexus.

I can’t son. Not until the Nephilim have been freed.

A baritone growl.

Two pinpoints of scarlet mark her eyes, and the demon reappears… smiling her wicked vertical slit of a smile. One Hunahpu… finally lured out of your cage. You and your son’s aura will allow Devlin to wedge open the Gates of Hell.

She disappears into the haze.

Jacob feels ill, as if he has just stepped off a precipice. Dad, what does she mean? Is Lucifer really coming?

Mick whispers into his son’s consciousness, There is no Lucifer, Jacob, there is no Hell.

But evil The Devil is man’s creation, son, not God’s. Evil is the human residue of free choice. Hell is a self-imposed prison in the spiritual realm. This purgatory… none of it is real, it was all created from the demented subconscious of Devlin Mabus and the tortured minds of the Nephilim. My own anger, my own self-loathing imprisoned my tainted soul within its walls… until I felt your love. But I chose to stay… to help the Nephilim. To allow them to bathe in my warmth.

Then I must kill Devlin and Lilith.

You can’t, Jacob. They’re already dead.

What?

I killed them long ago, back in 2012, when they attempted to use Tezcatilpoca to return to Earth. I entered the serpent’s nexus to greet them. They tried to trick me, but I saw through their ruse and killed both of them.

But -

God will not allow evil to enter His spiritual domain. So angry at God was Lilith that she refused to accept His terms. She and Devlin created their own netherworld, entrapping the confused, guilt-ridden souls of the Nephilim within its borders. Here, they can coerce and torture them, keeping them clear of God’s embracing light while Devlin, using his pure Hunahpu lineage, feeds off their energy to forge his own version of Hell.

Why are the Nephilim so filled with guilt?

Because they survived Earth’s holocaust when so many others died. It is my aura that soothes their souls, just as you soothed mine. Yours was a beacon of love… and love is God’s light. Lilith dampens this light, feeding it to the Nephilim in small morsels, crediting its energy to Lucifer so as to keep them under control.

Then the Nephilim… they’re dead as well?

Yes. They perished long ago, when they attempted to cross over into the spiritual realm.

Do they even know they’re dead?

No. Neither does Devlin or his mother. They’re absolutely convinced they’re on a mission to resurrect Lucifer. Now, only the truth shall set them free.

But why… why are Devlin and Lilith so convinced they can open up the Gates of Hell?

Devlin can feel an energy surge coming, but it is not our combined presence in this purgatory that he feels.

The supernova?

Yes. Devlin’s Hunahpu abilities allow him to tap into these forces. Even now, his mind is channeling energy, his subconscious giving life to a demon sentry.

Father, what happens when Sirius goes supernova?

Energy levels will spike, and Devlin’s consciousness will give birth to Lucifer-at least his concept of Lucifer-created from the fabric of his own wounded mind.

Then this whole thing… it could actually become a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Not could, Jacob. Remember, humanity is stuck in a time loop. The deed has already happened before.

Are you saying man’s concept of the Devil came from the future?

Looping back into the past… a frightening paradox. With each journey through the wormhole, the equation becomes more muddied, and mankind drifts farther from God.

Then the past… it will repeat itself again?

The moment the Guardian reenter the wormhole, as they are preparing to do even now. Once more, man’s future will deliver the Devil into man’s Garden of Eden.

Dad… this is all my fault… my selfishness pushed Lilith away, my moment of weakness gave Devlin life.

It’s not your fault. Like me, you were simply a victim of circumstance.

So was Lilith. So were Manny and Evelyn, and the billions who perished back on old Earth. Dad, I have to stop this insanity… I have to end this once and for all!

How?

By defeating Devlin. By saving the Nephilim.

You can’t defeat Devlin alone, and I cannot leave the nexus to help you.

There’s another way I can succeed, but I need your help. Can you distract Lilith… keep her away from me?

I’ll try. But the sentry, it would take both of us to I’ll handle the sentry, you worry about Lilith.

Devlin stands before the lake’s edge, his batlike wings twitching at his sides.

The silvery waters churn, then swirl, pulling in a powerful counterclockwise vortex. Within seconds, the once-placid liquid has become a raging whirlpool, its eye draining, inhaling the contents of the maelstrom to reveal – a massive orifice… the third mouth of the serpent.

‘It’s the portal, the portal into Hell!’

Devlin’s subconscious reaches across dimensions of time and space, tapping into the chaotic energy of the red supergiant, unleashing a monstrous ball of crimson flame, which belches upward from the serpent’s hyperextended jaws. The expulsion of energy causes the shoreline to rumble beneath Devlin’s feet, sending the frightened Nephilim bowing in fear.

The lining of the serpent’s throat radiates an emerald green hue as it slowly morphs into a rotating funnel of energy.

Father and son link minds, summoning Lilith, whose hideous presence reappears along the periphery of the mist.

I love you, Father.

I love you too, son. Now go.

Jacob’s mind slips out of the nexus.

Michael Gabriel turns to face his eternal enemy. It’s you and me now, cousin. My son has given me his strength… and I promise you that none of those who were born in the light, begotten in the light, will ever be yours!

Jacob opens his eyes.

He is lying on his back, the binding roots of the calabash tree having loosened around his neck and limbs. He pulls himself out from under the thick bonds and sits up, transfixed by the unearthly emerald light pouring out of the fifth-dimensional pit.

The porous ground oozes as Devlin’s followers dance and jump along the shoreline.

Rising out of the orifice, dripping globs of silvery ooze, is Devlin’s demonic biped, the one he has fought countless times in the holograph suite, the one who has tortured him in his childhood dreams. Powerful limbs, heavily segmented and smooth, propel its angular, heavily muscled body across the lake’s receding waters.

Devlin greets the sentry his own subconscious mind has created, directing it to the calabash tree. ‘Slay them. Slay them all!’

The silicon demon trudges up onshore, its powerful segmented arms lashing out, its scalpel-like fingers slicing limbs and torsos of the scattering Nephilim.

The ash-coated beings cry out, blue-tinted plasma gushing from their wounds. Panicking, the throng pushes one another aside, desperate to move out of harm’s way.

‘Jake!’ Dominique rushes over, handing him the sword. ‘Are you all right? Where’s Mick?’

‘Guarding the nexus.’ For the first time in fourteen years, he embraces her tightly. ‘I love you, Mom. I’m so sorry. All these years

… I never showed you the love you gave me.’

‘Shh… I love you.’

‘I love you, too.’ Tears stream from his eyes. ‘Stay back… stay close to the tree.’

‘Jake, what are you going to do?’

‘Fulfill my destiny.’

Dominique starts to say something, then gags, the noxious fumes of Devlin’s sentry causing her mucous membranes to sizzle. She cowers behind the alabaster tree, pressing the seal of her nostril hoses tighter.

The demon faces Jacob, its two pupilless eyes blazing burned yellow, staring right through him. The cruel slit seems to smile as if in triumph, allowing a black goo to dribble from its anthropomorphic mouth.

The being’s poison-tipped sickle-shaped claws slice the air, warning Jacob away from the calabash tree. Jacob tightens his grip on the sword.

Suddenly a gray blur-moving at him with unfathomable quickness-as the creature launches its attack.

Jacob ducks-the demon’s razored claws whistling past his scalp, as the Hunahpu warrior rolls forward and whips his sword around and down, slicing through the back of one of the being’s thickly muscled legs.

The creature cries out, swearing in an incomprehensible language.

Jacob regrips the sword in both hands. For over a decade he has fought a holographic simulation of this being within the nexus. Now, every instinct in his body tells him to remain free of the higher dimension.

The demon circles slowly, biding its time. Mustard yellow ooze gushes from its wounded leg as it plans its next bull rush.

Another blur of gray-the being’s bladed fingertips slashing through the carbon-dioxide-heavy air.

Jacob parries the blow with the blade of his sword, then, executing a flawless pirouette, he whirls around and hacks through the being’s left arm, just above the elbow.

The wounded demon howls in its native tongue, cowering off-balance as the Hunahpu launches his own attack, his sword cutting the air in blurring waves of unyielding figure eights, the sizzling double blade hacking through silicon flesh, the mustard yellow pus spraying both combatants as Jacob mercilessly shreds torso and limb.

A flutter of wings, followed by a warning shout from Dominique.

Jacob wheels about and drops, stabbing upward, catching Devlin in the abdomen as the Seraph assails him from above.

Devlin flies off, landing awkwardly several feet from the edge of the glowing pit, clutching his ruptured flank.

‘Jake!’ Dominique points.

Blue-tinged blood is gushing from beneath his body armor along the left side of his rib cage, the sentry’s talons having shredded flesh and muscle.

‘Stay back!’ Jacob sucks deep lungfuls of air from his mouthpiece, trying in vain to fight off the effects of the poison. He is lathered in blood and sweat and yellow phlegm, his muscles trembling.

Eyeing Devlin, Jacob turns to the mutilated sentry groveling by his feet. Bellowing a guttural warrior’s cry, the Hunahpu raises his sword and, with a mighty two-handed downward chop, cuts off the demon’s hideous head.

Devlin snarls by the edge of the pit but does not attack.

The frightened Nephilim continue to inch toward the calabash tree by the thousands.

Jacob drops to his knees, Dominique catching him as he collapses. ‘Jake, no… oh God, please-’ She clutches his dying form to her bosom. ‘Jake, don’t leave me.’

Unable to speak, he points feebly to the trunk of the alabaster tree.

*

Michael Gabriel’s mind is drowning in an abyss of evil, the Abomination’s scarlet eyes dragging him deeper into her icy soul. Her whisper echoes into his consciousness. The battle is over, cousin. I shall drain your life force, then carry First-Mother’s carcass over Hell’s threshold.

An eternity of pent-up emotions explodes from the depths of Mick’s crumbling being, piercing the walls of his protective domain-‘Dominique!’

The whisper of her name reverberates in her mind like a tuning fork.

Jacob rasps, choking on his own blood, ‘Free him.’

She lays her son’s head down gently and stands. Grips his sword in both hands. Staggers to the calabash tree, its glow fading fast – and thrusts the blade into the trunk with all her might.

The Siren’s scream echoes in Mick’s mind, and suddenly the haze lifts.

The Succubus is clutching her side where a stream of black ooze sprays outward like oil. She wheels around, her demonic vermilion eyes spewing hatred at Mick.

No! Impossible!

Michael Gabriel smiles triumphantly. Never underestimate the power of love.

Another wound bursts open, this one in her throat. She flops on her back, gagging on her own excrement – as an eternity of shackles are stripped from Mick’s being.

*

The heavenly glow of the calabash tree increases its brilliance as white bark melts into gobs of mucuslike goo.

Thrashing about within this rapidly liquefying mound are two figures. One is Lilith, her pale flesh gushing an oily excrement; the second is Michael Gabriel, his torso held from behind, the Succubus’s fingernails digging into his back.

‘Get off my man, bitch!’ Dominique lashes downward with the sword, severing Lilith’s arms at the elbows.

Devlin circles overhead, but refuses to get nearer to the painfully brightening light.

Dominique drags Mick’s lifeless form from the tarry ooze. ‘Jake, he’s not breathing!’ She removes her mouthpiece and forces it past her soul mate’s blue lips and into his mouth.

‘Come on, Mick-breathe!’ She shakes him, then starts mouth to mouth, but is unable to resuscitate him.

‘Oh God, no… not after all this.’ Removing a pony bottle of air from her exoskeleton, she straps it over Mick’s face, then begins CPR – as a second white light appears at her back, its unearthly glow warming her skin.

Dominique turns. Her jaw drops open, releasing the regulator. ‘Jacob?’

The brilliant light-force that is Jacob Gabriel rises from his deceased physical form, casting a heavenly glow throughout the spiritual dimension.

En masse, the Nephilim gravitate toward the source.

‘Like moths to a flame…’ Dominique whispers.

The energy from Jacob’s soul bathes their skin, miraculously washing away the gray soot, revitalizing their flesh. Limbs are restored, the torturous orbs dropping from their rejuvenated bodies.

Dominique’s mind is in a daze. And then Evelyn Strongin’s words, spoken so long ago, are whispered into her consciousness.

There is a Hell, Dominique, but it is not a real place. Those who enter the afterlife possessing negative energy reside in their own self-imposed Hell. Judgment, blame, and guilt can distort or destroy one’s own sense of self. Unless we allow love to purify the darkness of our souls, Hell can be a very forbidding place.

‘Love…’

Tears of joy pour from Dominique’s eyes as, one by one, the lost souls of New Eden’s colonists, held so long within their self-imposed purgatory of guilt and shame-smile… then disappear in a blink of heavenly white light.

Devlin hovers above the melee, flapping his wings, screeching at the top of his lungs. ‘No! Get away from him! Leave him be!’

The remaining Nephilim push in tighter, desperate to embrace their newfound savior.

And then they are gone, all but Jacob, who moves toward her, bathing her in his loving light.

The alabaster ooze from the calabash tree melts like snow as it is kissed by Jacob’s angelic glow, restoring Lilith’s earthly beauty, healing her wounds.

Jacob kneels by Lilith. Touches her face.

Lilith opens her eyes, now filled with a childlike innocence. She looks up at Jacob and smiles.

Jacob takes Lilith’s hand, then turns to his mother. He points to Mick, who is now breathing on his own. ‘Be happy.’

Dominique chokes on the lump in her throat. ‘I love you.’

Jacob smiles. And then he and Lilith are gone.

Mick groans.

Dominique rushes to his side. She strokes his thick mane of silver-gray hair and stares into his brilliant, azure-blue eyes, recognizing the look of schizophrenia. ‘My poor baby, what did they do to you?’

The Underworld rumbles like thunder. Crimson flames shoot out from the serpent’s open mouth, an emerald eruption of energy still pouring from the fifth-dimensional conduit. The subterranean ceiling is fragmenting, exposing curtains of brilliant white light.

Devlin snarls at her from the edge of the pit. Spreading his wings, he dives into the maelstrom.

And then everything is gone.

Dominique finds herself kneeling by the edge of the artificial lake, back on the planet’s surface. Hurricane-force winds howl in her ears, threatening to swoop her up into its vortex. She looks around, blinded by volcanic dust.

Mick is lying by her side, the Guardian’s transport pod rocking twenty feet behind them.

Stooping painfully, she positions Mick’s arm across her shoulder and half carries, half drags him to the spacecraft. She pulls him inside. Seals the hatch.

‘Computer, get us on board the Guardian’s transport as fast as you can!’

The pod struggles to lift against the monstrous currents of air and debris.

Dominique holds on, unable to think through the insanity of the moment as they are inhaled within the hurricane’s vortex. She squeezes her eyes shut, memories flashing in her mind as the space vehicle whips around the eye wall of the storm as if caught in a washing machine.

Flash: She is back in the Miami mental asylum, sitting before her new director, Antonio Foletta, discussing her new patient.

‘Why was Mr. Gabriel incarcerated?’

‘Mick lost it during his father’s lecture. The court diagnosed him paranoid schizophrenic and sentenced him to the Massachusetts State Mental Facility, where I served as his clinical psychiatrist.’

‘Same kind of delusions as his father?’

‘And the mother. Archaeologists Julius and Maria Gabriel were convinced that some terrible calamity is going to wipe mankind off the face of the planet. Mick also suffers from the usual paranoid delusions of persecution, most of it brought about by his father’s death and his own incarceration. Claims that a government conspiracy has kept him locked up all these years. In Mick Gabriel’s mind, he’s the ultimate victim, an innocent man attempting to save the world…’

Flash: Her first visit with Mick. The handsome paranoid schizophrenic with the ebony eyes moves closer, inhaling her scent. ‘I swear on my mother’s soul that I won’t harm you.’

Flash: She is in the Gulf of Mexico, on a boat with Mick, after helping him escape. ‘Mick… back in the asylum when you asked me if I believed in evil. What did you mean by that?’

‘I also asked you if you believe in God… if you believed in a higher power.’

‘I believe someone watches over us, touching our souls on some higher plain of existence. I’m sure part of me believes that because I need to believe it, because it’s comforting. What do you think?’

‘I believe we possess a spiritual energy, which exists on a different dimension. I believe a higher power exists on that level, one we can only access when we die.’

‘I don’t think I ever heard heaven described quite like that. What about evil?’

‘Every Ying has its Yang.’

‘Are you saying you believe in the devil?’

‘The devil, Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, what’s in a name?’

Flash: Back in Chichen Itza, on the winter solstice of 2012, the prophesied day of doom. Ennis Chaney grips her by her wrist, refusing to let go, as Mick walks purposefully toward the dead alien serpent’s open mouth-the entrance into the nexus.

‘Let me go! Mick, what are you doing-’

‘I’m sorry, Dominique. I love you-’

He steps over the bottom rows of teeth and enters the serpent’s mouth… leaving her forever Forever…

‘I love you Dominique…’

Forever…

‘Ma… thank you. I love you.’

‘I love you, too, Manny. ’

Forever…

‘ Be happy. ’

Forever…

Her eyes flash open as she screams, ‘Jacob!’

The transport ship leaps clear of the olive green whirlwind, climbs into the atmosphere, and races into space.

Mick’s eyes flash open as he regains consciousness. ‘No… no!’

Dominique grabs hold of him as the pod rockets higher. ‘Shh… it’s okay-’

‘No! I am One Hunahpu! I am One Hunahpu!’

‘Mick, it’s me, it’s Dominique-’

‘Abomination… trying to kill me… seeping into my mind… I am One Hunahpu… I am in control… I control my mind, not the Abomination.’ He tears at his hair. ‘Oh, God, oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God-’

Dominique struggles to restrain him as invisible hands guide the ship toward the potato-shaped moon.

Mick thrashes wildly, his madness like a raging tsunami. ‘My mind

… a safe haven. My mind… protects me… a cave. Oh, God, let me die! I want to die! Let me die, let me die-’

The moon-shaped vessel appears in the view screen, an immense eighteen-mile-long, twelve-mile-wide iridium transport ship, its hull pockmarked by indentations and one very massive crater-sized dent.

‘Abomination! Abomination! I will focus on the cave walls and not the exit and the Abomination cannot harm me!’

‘Mick, stop, it’s me! It’s Dominique!’

A tractor beam grabs hold of the pod, guiding it inside a landing bay.

The craft stops with a jolt. The pod’s hatch pops open, revealing the three Guardian elders.

Mick is screaming, tearing at his harness.

The female Guardian reaches inside the pod and touches her palm to his forehead. ‘Sleep.’

Mick’s eyes roll upward, and he passes out.

The younger male grabs his wrist, effortlessly lifting him out of the ship, hoisting his inert body over his shoulder as if carrying a small child.

The female reaches inside the pod to assist Dominique.

She pushes the female’s hand away. ‘You lied to us. Why didn’t you tell us this was Earth? Why didn’t you tell us the Nephilim were dead?’

The female offers her a motherly look… as she touches her forehead.

Dominique blacks out.

An azure lagoon, surrounded by a lush tropical jungle. A cool breeze stirs the palm fronds.

Dominique climbs onto the foam cushion, lies back, and floats.

‘Dominique? Dominique, dear, it’s time to wake up.’

She opens her eyes, staring into the female’s face. ‘Where-’

‘Safe. On the transport.’

Dominique sits up, feeling light-headed. The female Guardian helps her off a free-floating medical table, then points to a solid wall.

A viewport projects upon the metallic surface. The image reveals they are traveling in outer space, the silvery red world growing smaller in the distance.

Jake…

Dominique turns to the female. ‘Jacob is dead. Why did he have to die? To save a bunch of evil people?’

‘The Nephilim were not evil, my dear, they were lost lambs, led astray. It was God’s will that they be saved. Jacob’s sacrifice saved his own soul and theirs.’

‘And Devlin?’

‘That, I cannot say.’

Dominique rubs her eyes, thinking about everything. ‘So what happens now?’

‘The Earth we knew is long gone. By returning through the wormhole and into the past, we may yet be able to prevent the holocaust that destroys human civilization.’

The female’s attention turns inward as she listens to an incoming telepathic message. ‘Come. Michael needs you.’

Dominique follows her through a short corridor into the main compartment of the transhumans’ transport ship. She looks around, incredulous.

There are close to a million of them-eight-foot-high cryogenic pods, set in countless rows on multiple levels throughout the eighteen-mile-long vessel.

Dominique peers inside the frosted glass at the gangly being inside. ‘The posthumans?’

The female nods. ‘Their souls are finally at peace.’

She leads Dominique to an immense vaultlike door at the very core of the ship. At the female’s telepathic command, the door swings open, revealing the interior of a spherical chamber.

The two women enter. ‘This chamber is a secured pod, its power source and life-support systems independent of the rest of the ship. Its walls create white noise which serves to shield its occupants from telepathic communication, in essence, rendering it a quiet zone.’

At the center of the chamber are two drained cryogenic pods. A myriad of hoses and wires run from each machine into the floor, linking the pod to a series of enigmatic devices lining one wall of the room.

Harnessed within one of these cryogenic glass chambers is Michael Gabriel. He is unconscious and naked. The elder male Guardian hovers over him, securing a series of star-shaped electrodes to points along his scalp, crown, forehead, solar plexus, heart, sacrum, and feet.

Dominique moves closer. ‘What are you doing to him?’

‘The experience of fighting off the Abomination for so long has damaged One Hunahpu’s mind. The only way to restore his sanity is to rebuild his memories.’

The female takes Dominique’s hand. ‘The posthumans’ technology gives us the ability to manipulate Michael’s mind, to place him into soothing, safe virtual-environments that will allow us to nurture him back to sanity. But the therapy requires a hands-on guide, someone who knows One Hunahpu intimately… someone he trusts.’

Dominique stares at the empty cryogenic pod. ‘What do I have to do?’

The male Guardian speaks. ‘We’ll place both of you under a light anesthetic, then link your mind to One Hunahpu’s using the posthumans’ virtual-reality device. Your consciousness will maintain complete control over the device, giving you access into One Hunahpu’s thoughts, allowing you to guide him through his rehabilitation.’

‘Why the anesthetic?’

The male gazes at her with his piercing blue eyes. ‘The VR device will not activate until you enter REM sleep. The anesthetic assists in this endeavor. Since it will take many sessions before One Hunahpu begins to show progress, I suggest we begin the first therapy sessions immediately.’

‘Therapy.’ Dominique laughs nervously. ‘That’s how the two of us met.’

The female smiles. ‘He loves you, my dear. The therapy will not only heal his damaged mind, it will allow the two of you to be together. Once inside the pod, you will not be able to distinguish your shared virtual existence from the real world.’

Dominique is beyond exhaustion, her body in constant pain. ‘I think I could use a break from the real world.’

‘Remove your clothing.’

She strips down, then allows the male to assist her into the pod. He connects the seven neural chakra links, then attaches a dime-sized anaesthetic patch to the back of her neck. ‘This will help you to sleep.’

Dominique tastes a metallic bitterness in the back of her throat. She looks up at the Guardian elder, swallowing hard. ‘I’m cold.’

‘You’ll feel comfortable in a few moments.’

The female leans over her and smiles. ‘Pleasant dreams, my dear…

My dear…

My dear…

My dear…

The male checks Dominique’s vital signs. She’s stable. We must hurry, before the star goes supernova.

The male Guardian quickly connects a tracheal tube, intravenous tubes, and elimination hoses to Mick and Dominique while the female fits plugs into Dominique’s nostrils and ear canals. Is cryogenic suspension really necessary?

This was all discussed. One Hunahpu’s mind is in chaos, but it is still quite powerful, and it still has access to the nexus. If left unbridled, it could potentially affect the ship’s trajectory through the wormhole. Placing him in cryogenic suspension is the only way we can shield his mind from the higher dimensions.

I was referring to First-Mother. I don’t like lying to her.

She would have fought us if we revealed everything. She would have delayed the therapy, potentially risking One Hunahpu’s life.

I disagree.

As is your right. Computer, seal both pods. Begin preservation process.

A clear gel-like liquid flows out the bottom of each pod, lifting the two inert bodies as it rises to fill the tank. The Plexiglas frosts, then crystallizes.

The male elder enters the ship’s control room, his mind instantly updated telepathically with multiple status reports from the four Guardian elders inside.

The Balam?

Long gone. It disappeared through the wormhole hours ago.

Most distressing.

Is it possible that One Hunahpu is controlling it?

Impossible to say. The origins of the Balam remain a mystery.

Preparing to enter wormhole.

Appearing on the forward viewport is the wormhole’s glowing emerald green orifice, beckoning them in.

The mammoth oblong transport ship accelerates, entering the time-space conduit.

A moment later, Sirius-B goes supernova, the titanic explosion rattling time and space with the energy of 100 million suns.

A male voice… his screams echoing in the dank, dungeonlike basement.

Dominique’s consciousness moves through the antiquated concrete-block corridor of the Massachusetts asylum, following the guttural sounds to a row of cell doors. She stops at a cell marked SOLITARY CONFINEMENT. Tries the door.

Locked.

Remember, you’re in control.

‘Open, please.’

The bolt unlocks, the door swinging open.

Inside is an eight-foot-by-ten-foot cell, its bare cement floor and walls damp with mildew. A broken toilet and sink. A bare bulb, no windows.

Scratched into the far wall is a map of the world, a half dozen points X’d off in dried blood.

Mick is curled up on a wafer-thin mattress on the floor. He turns and gazes up at her, his ebony eyes so dark, it is difficult to tell where the irises begin.

‘Who… who are you?’

She smiles. ‘A friend.’

Mick sits up. ‘Dr. Foletta won’t let me have visitors.’

‘Dr. Foletta’s been transferred. I’m in charge now.’ She holds out her hand. ‘My name’s Dominique, and I’m here to help you.’

The transport soars through the wormhole like a pebble flowing through a garden hose, the effects of the supernova twisting and turning the currents of energy, until the massive spaceship is forcibly spit out the other side.

The blackness of space returns.

They soar toward a yellow sun and familiar star patterns. Up ahead, a bright blue world.

Home.

The asteroid-sized transport slows, establishing orbit around the watery planet.

The elder male Guardian paces the conn, his transhuman blood simmering. What happened? Every calculation was accounted for!

Apparently not every calculation. The younger male Guardian’s telepathy burns in his superior’s mind. The Balam entered the wormhole before us. Its presence apparently altered the wormhole’s trajectory.

The female, positioned within a comm link station, opens her eyes. Cartography confirms we overshot both third and fourth dimensional coordinates. She activates the viewport, the image of the blue world they are orbiting appearing below. The planet we are now orbiting is not Earth, it is Mars. Ancient Mars. The computer positively identified the planet’s moon as Deimos.

Mars has two moons, not one. Where’s Phobos?

I believe we are Phobos.

The elder male stares hard at her. How far into our past have we traveled?

She looks up at him. The time period equates to 127 million years before the time of Osiris.

And the wormhole?

Gone. We are stranded in this time period.

Warning lights and a telepathic siren blare throughout the vessel.

WARNING: TACHYON DRIVE OVERHEATING. PRIMARY AND BACKUP COOLING SYSTEMS OFF-LINE. EXPLOSION IMMINENT.

The female works her control. The ship’s engines have seized, so have our shields!

The gargantuan internal explosion violates the hull, igniting a flash fire that races through the vessel, consuming everything in its path. Sections of infrastructure melt and collapse, the Guardian crying out in agony as the intense heat bursts their hairless elongated skulls into flames, melting their eyeballs, peeling their charred skin away from their bones.

Steam fills the corridors as rows of cryogenic pods begin to melt. Glass fractures, a river of gel pouring from the shattered vessels percolating along the gridded floor.

It is over almost as quickly as it began. Within seconds, the vacuum of space inhales the ship’s air supply, dousing the flames, leaving death and destruction in its wake.

The damaged iridium-and-iron satellite continues orbiting Mars, its interior hull now lifeless – save for two isolated souls.

An azure lagoon, surrounded by lush tropical foliage. A cool breeze stirs the palm fronds.

Dominique lies naked on the cool pink sand, watching in delight as Mick climbs to the top of a twenty-two-foot waterfall.

‘Dom, watch!’

‘I’m watching, but you’d better hold on to your you-know-what.’

With boyish charm, Mick leaps from the rock, executing an awkward somersault.

Dominique waits until he surfaces before applauding. ‘That was really… awful.’

‘Thank you.’ He swims closer, his bronze body as naked as hers. ‘Come here.’

She enters the lagoon, wading in the shallows and into his arms.

‘Do you know how much I’ve missed you,’ he whispers.

‘Yes.’

They embrace-Adam and Eve in Eden-the only two souls in the world, oblivious and carefree in their own uninterrupted eternity of happiness – until that fateful day when a serpent shall again reenter their garden.