by Steve Alten
They are rocketing through an iridescent sky-blue funnel, rimmed by a strange bloodred hue. At the very center of the image is a black dot … growing larger … larger—
And suddenly they are flung free, hurtling through space into an unrecognizable sector of the Galaxy.
Before them—an alien silvery-red planet.
Dominique whispers. ‘Xibalba …’
Jacob nods. ‘Computer, reactivate main engines. Plot a course for the larger of the two moons.’
PROBES HAVE BEEN LAUNCHED FROM THE LUNAR SURFACE, APPROACHING GRAVITY RIPPLE.
‘Activate aft screen.’
The image of space changes. Appearing on-screen—the wormhole’s exit, bathed in emerald green. Moving into position along the perimeter of the orifice are hundreds of school-bus-sized probes, each emitting a luminescent blue beacon.
Dominique stares at the image on screen. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Someone’s stabilizing the wormhole, preventing its gravitational field from collapsing.’
‘The Guardian?’
‘Let’s hope. Computer, establish orbit around the planet’s larger moon. Prepare an escape pod to take us to the lunar surface.’
37
ABOARD THE BALAM’S ESCAPE POD
The twenty-seven-foot escape pod circles the lunar base, then descends to what appears to be a docking berth.
Jacob clutches his head, his eyes squeezed shut.
‘Jake, what’s wrong?’
‘Voices … so many voices … probing my mind telepathically—’
A written message appears across the pod’s main viewing screen.
WELCOME HOME.
The pod touches down with a hiss. Alien hydraulics rotate the vessel into position.
Without warning, the entire landing pad and escape pod plummet hundreds of feet below the surface.
Dominique grips her seat, her stomach jumping with the sudden descent, then they are slowing, braking on a cushion of air.
The pod’s outer hatch yawns open, revealing a massive subterranean facility.
Standing before them in absolute silence are hundreds of humanoids, seven feet tall, all possessing silky white hair, bright azure-blue eyes, and elongated skulls.
Jacob and his mother are escorted down a long corridor to a private chamber. Waiting for them inside are three Guardian elders. Two are males, possessing white hair and matching silky beards. The female’s hair is also snow white, her luminescent eyes holding a maternal quality. All three are wearing skintight biopneumatic bodysuits, entwined with biochemical capillary-like vessels pulsating with energy.
The older of the two males, dressed in a black bodysuit, speaks aloud, solely for Dominique’s benefit.
‘I represent First Clan.’
The women, wearing gray, states, ‘I represent Second Clan.’
The younger male, in a white jumpsuit, steps forward. ‘I represent Third Clan. It is an honor to meet you, First-Mother, though your presence was not anticipated.’
‘Who are you?’
The younger male holds up two fingers. Balanced on each fingertip is a dime-sized, paper-thin device. ‘These are bionetic implants. All you wish to know will be downloaded.’
Before Dominique can object, the younger male touches the device to her left temple—
—inhaling her consciousness into darkness.
Where is Immanuel?
He refused to join me.
Illogical. He was programmed to be here.
The Hunahpu gene remained dormant for too long. He possessed free will.
You cannot succeed without him.
My father will assist me.
Your father is lost.
Dominique forces open a heavy eye.
She is lying on a free-floating couch, the room spinning in her head. The three bizarre-looking humanoids are standing before Jacob, their eyes closed as they communicate with him telepathically.
‘Speak out loud!’
They turn slowly to face her, their glowing eyes now open.
‘Who are—’ As her lips purse to form the words of her first question, a wave of information instantaneously washes over her mind.
The Guardian … survivors of an Earth holocaust … destined for Mars Colony … twelve spaceships diverted through wormhole … arrived on Xibalba as Homo sapiens … evolved into transhumans through retrotransposon manipulation …
Dominique grips the sides of her head where the neural implants have been embedded.
‘Stop,’ Jacob protests, ‘you’re overwhelming her.’
The female transhuman blinks, causing the neural transmission to cease.
Jacob kneels by his mother’s side. ‘Are you all right?’
Dominique nods.
‘We will communicate aloud,’ the female commands.
‘I want to see Mick. Take me to him.’
‘One Hunahpu is long gone,’ the elder male coldly states. ‘Our concern now is for the Nephilim.’
Dominique stands. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Michael Gabriel failed,’ voices the younger male.
‘You don’t know even where he is, do you?’
‘We know,’ the elder male retorts.
‘No … you’re lying, in fact, your whole brotherhood is one big lie! This lunar outpost, the Balam … none of it’s yours, you only inherited the technology, you don’t really understand it. You’re like a bunch of children operating a television. You can program it and adjust the volume, but you don’t know the first thing about how it really works, do you?’
Jacob looks at the Guardian elders and smiles. ‘My mother may not be Hunahpu, but don’t underestimate her, or her bond to my father. Tell her everything.’
‘What you say is true,’ the female Guardian admits. ‘The Balam was here when we arrived, we still don’t know its origins.’
The younger male steps forward. ‘Like you, we once lived on Earth as Homo sapiens. But our species was threatened by a great cataclysm—a super volcano, whose imminent eruption would cast Earth into a species-ending ice age. Some of us were chosen to begin our lives anew on Mars. Ours was the last group that managed to escape Earth before the caldera erupted. On our journey to the Red Planet, our twelve ships were seized by the wormhole, which deposited our ships in this time and place.’
Dominique covers her mouth. ‘Wait a minute … are you saying everyone on Earth will die? When will this happen? How soon?’
‘Less than a decade after the Hero Twins’ twentieth year.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘The planet we now orbit was once inhabited by an advanced race of humans. Before we arrived, this transhuman culture made a breakthrough in human evolution. By linking their minds into a collective consciousness, they were able to create a resonant “supermind,” one that would allow them to transcend the physical world into the spiritual. This discovery ultimately divided the culture in two. Those who sought to abandon their physical bodies in order to walk in God’s shadow eventually evolved into a posthumanoid species. Those who opposed this evolutionary blasphemy abandoned the planet.’
The female takes over. ‘The physical and spiritual realms are connected by a nexus—a transspatial existence that bridges the gap between our physical dimension and the spiritual worlds. By creating a collective mind, the transhumans could bypass physical death and enter the spiritual realm using high-frequency psychotronic harmonics. That gave them access to the nexus, but still prevented them from entering the higher spiritual realms they sought. In order to gain access, they needed another life-form—a host species—one capable of reproducing these psychotronic harmonics within the nexus itself. From genetic catalogues, the transhumans selected a species once indigenous to the planet. Using advances in gene splicing and cybernetics, they began cloning and genetically manipulating generations of these biological creatures to serve their own selfish needs.’
A volumetric image appears before them. It depicts a crater-shaped sea of silvery, al
most metallic liquid. Moving just below the surface are immense serpentine creatures, their broad backs churning the undulating broth.
Dominique’s eyes widen. ‘It’s the creature—the one that rose from the Gulf of Mexico, the one Mick destroyed in Chichén Itzá.’
‘Tezcatilpoca,’ Jacob whispers. ‘The Mayan name for “smoking mirror.”’
‘The mirror into the soul,’ the female adds. ‘These docile, intelligent beasts were genetically altered and enhanced to exist on both sides of the “mirror of existence.” It is their harmonics that summoned the wormhole. Their posthuman masters used the Tezcatilpoca to pass through the nexus into the spiritual world. Our fellow castaways—our own fallen brothers and sisters—followed them down this same dark path. Now the vanquished cry out to us for salvation. They must be saved.’
Jacob circles the female elder. ‘The Nephilim, the Fallen Ones. These are your fellow castaways?’
‘Yes. All evolved into transhumans within years after being exposed to the planet’s water supply.’
Dominique fights to remain in control. ‘What does any of this have to do with Mick, or my sons?’
‘Michael and your sons carry the Hunahpu gene.’
‘I know that! What I don’t know is what a damn Hunahpu is.’
The female answers, her motherly demeanor intended to soothe. ‘Before they escaped from Xibalba, our Guardian founders took samples of posthuman DNA. The samples were taken onboard the Balam when it journeyed through the wormhole, chasing after the Xibalban transport vessel carrying the creature. The Hunaphu are a Homo sapiens bloodline genetically enhanced with posthuman DNA.’
The older male takes over. ‘The Abomination’s plan was to send one of the Tezcatilpoca on a transport ship back through the wormhole to Earth, where the creature’s presence would create a cosmic bridge between both worlds and time periods. Fearing the Abomination would attempt to lead her people to old Earth, the Guardian downed the vessel, only they failed to kill the creature.’
‘Fortunately,’ Jacob says, ‘my father, possessing Hunahpu blood, was able to circumvent their plan.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Dominique says, looking to the elder Guardian male. ‘How can Lilith be Hunahpu? I thought Mick was your chosen one?’
‘Michael Gabriel was only one of several hundred possible genetic anomalies the Guardian hoped would evolve in time to activate the Balam’s weapon system. Lilith’s great-uncle found a way to manipulate the Hunaphu bloodline. This mutation causes a deeply rooted schizophrenia that was passed on to Lilith.’
‘And where is Mick? What happened to him?’
‘Michael and our fellow colonists are trapped in a netherworld, a bubble of existence created by Devlin Mabus.’
‘Devlin?’
‘Lilith’s son, a pure posthuman, very powerful, conceived from two Hunahpu parents.’
Jacob sits, suddenly light-headed.
‘Who’s the father?’ Dominique asks. ‘Jake?’
‘I don’t know, Mother. Yes, it’s possible. For that matter, it could be Manny or another Hunahpu in our time.’
The three Guardian elders go silent, their minds exchanging thoughts at light speed.
Dominique loses patience. ‘I don’t care about this Devlin or Lilith, I came here to find Mick. Tell me what happened to him and how I can reach him.’
The younger male is first to speak. ‘Michael Gabriel journeyed into Devlin’s realm to save the Nephilim, but Lilith and her son had been forewarned. He remains trapped in the netherworld. Lilith uses his light to control her followers and keep them in line. Michael’s light attracts them like a moth to flame. It gives them hope, but Michael cannot escape. Now, only the combined strength of the Hero Twins can free One Hunahpu and the Fallen Ones.’
The elder Guardian male looks hard at Jacob. ‘Which means our mission has failed. Your brother should have made the journey, not First-Mother.’
Dominique ignores the remark. ‘How many years have passed since Mick’s arrival?’
‘Just over a Xibalban century,’ the female answers. ‘Approximately 114 Earth years.’
‘Oh … God, how’s that possible?’
The female takes her hand. ‘Dominique, Michael hasn’t aged in a physical sense. His body remains in suspended animation. It’s his mind that is being tortured.’
‘Tortured?’
‘By the Abomination. She is a leech to his soul.’
Jacob stands. ‘I came here to save my father and rescue the Nephilim. Tell me what I have to do?’
‘You may already be too late.’ The older male points a finger.
A volumetric display activates. The astrotopographic projection races through space, approaching a monstrous blazing red fireball of a star. As the red supergiant grows closer, its surface cools in color to that of a soft lightbulb—
—revealing the presence of a second star lurking behind its mass. The smaller star, a white dwarf, is under tremendous turmoil, its surface bloating.
‘The red supergiant will go supernova in thirty-one hours, seventeen minutes. When the event happens, it will disperse massive doses of radiation and energy across this sector of the Galaxy. Nothing on this moon or the planet will survive.’
‘What will you do?’ Dominique asks.
The image changes, zooming past Xibalba to focus upon the planet’s smaller moon—an immense potato-shaped starship. ‘This damaged transport was left behind by the transhuman culture that vacated the planet. Our scientists have effected repairs. With the wormhole’s passage now secured, we’ll be able to use the vessel to escape before the star explodes.’
‘We’re going back to Earth,’ states the female. ‘Back through time to save Homo sapiens from the caldera.’
Dominique perks up. ‘You can do that? Change history?’
‘It’s possible,’ the younger male answers. ‘Unfortunately, Jacob cannot possibly hope to defeat Lilith and Devlin alone.’
‘He won’t be alone,’ Dominique says. ‘I’ll be with him.’
‘You?’ The male elder shakes his head. ‘You are not Hunahpu. You’re not even a transhuman. Devlin and his followers would crush you like a bug.’
The female Guardian holds up her hand. ‘Don’t rush to judgment. First-Mother’s presence in the Underworld may actually confuse the Abomination and her son, who are still expecting both Hero Twins. Once Dominique reaches the Dark Road, her mind will remain cloaked to all trans human telepathy. It may present her an advantage.’
‘Advantage?’ The elder Guardian’s eyes blaze at his female comrade in disbelief. ‘They’ll never make it past the Dark Road without Immanuel. Or have you forgotten the tlachtli?’
Dominique looks puzzled.
The younger male explains. ‘The entrance that leads into Devlin’s netherworld is guarded by a band of sociopaths. Lilith has convinced these transhumans that they are reincarnations of cannibals who lived thousands of years ago in ancient Mesoamerica. These Devil-worshipers exist only to serve the Abomination and her son. To enter Devlin’s netherworld, you must defeat these warriors in a game of tlachtli, and the battle is to the death.’
Jacob turns to his mother. ‘The battle in which you’ve seen me train for the last seven years.’
‘And what about weapons?’ Dominique asks. ‘Can’t we just shoot them with an ion cannon or something?’
‘Modern weapons do not function within the spiritual realm,’ the female answers. ‘The laws of physics as you know them do not apply in the Land of the Damned.’
‘One of our transport ships will take you to the surface facility where the last remaining Tezcatilpoca is penned,’ the younger male says. ‘Jacob, use your Hunahpu powers to summon the beast. The creature will allow you access beyond the nexus into the Abomination’s netherworld. The Guardian brotherhood have programmed the serpent to safeguard a weapon, one we believe is capable of destroying the Abomination and her son.’
‘My sword,’ Jacob tells his mother. ‘I’ve seen all
of these things in my visions.’
‘Remember,’ the female cautions, ‘you only have thirty hours before we must depart through the wormhole. If you haven’t returned by then, don’t bother coming back. The radiation from the supernova will kill you.’
Dominique allows the female Guardian to assist her into a black temperature-regulated exoskeleton bodysuit.
‘This suit was designed by the transhumans to access the nexus. It should allow you to survive in Devlin’s realm as well. As you move, the battle armor and its neural connections will collect and recycle your body excretions, providing you with water. Drink through this extraction tube. Attached to your back is a thin, flexible air tank and oxygen processor, which supplies air through this nostril tube. There is no oxygen in purgatory; this unit creates your air supply by extracting oxygen from the CO2.’
