Aleta’s flawless command of English, with its delightful Spanish lilt, echoed authoritatively from the steps of the great pyramids. Three hundred kilometres away, Monsignor Jennings watched the proceedings on his black-and-white television. He threw the empty bottle of scotch clanging into the metal wastepaper basket. ‘Fucking bitch,’ he muttered, reaching for another bottle.
‘It is now clear,’ Aleta continued, ‘that despite a series of warnings to the great Mayan kings – kings like Jaguar Claw, Zero Moon Bird Hasaw and his wife, Lady Twelve Macaw, Yax Ain II – the city-states of Tikal, Calakmul and Naranjo, the latter controlled by the powerful warrior queen, Lady Six Sky, were engaged in vicious continual conflict. Conflict that ultimately destroyed both their environment and their ability to feed themselves, and ultimately, their civilisation The Maya Codex makes plain that we will suffer the same fate unless we change course.’ Aleta paused to let the warning hang above the ancient plaza. ‘As a civilisation, we, like the Mayan city-states, are fearful of difference. We fight our wars in the name of religion, be it in Northern Ireland or in the Hindu Kush of Afghanistan, and we seem unable to tolerate, let alone accept, different cultures. Pakistan, for example, is close to being a failed state, and her nuclear weapons may fall into the hands of extremists. Those extremists would think nothing of engaging in suicide bombings on a nuclear scale, all in the name of their god, Allah.’ The print-media journalists scribbled furiously.
‘In the United States a powerful block of forty million evangelicals subscribes to the view that Christ cannot return until all of the occupied Palestinian territories – Gaza, the West Bank – until every last square centimetre of the so-called Promised Land is returned to Israel.’
Ten thousand kilometres away, the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Salvatore Felici, sat glued to the television in his opulent office in the Palazzo della Sacra Inquisizione.
‘The Vatican has yet to release the real third warning of Fátima,’ Aleta charged, ‘but a single page of notes, handwritten by Sister Lúcia, has been hidden away in the Vatican’s secret archives. When the Virgin Mary appeared to Lúcia in 1917, she issued a similar warning to that contained in the Maya Codex. The Virgin’s warning was preceded by Saint Malachy’s claim of a vision from God given to him on the Janiculum Hill above Rome in 1140, a vision that has proved to be an extraordinarily accurate forecast of who was to take the Keys of Peter, and there is every indication that the last papacy will end in December 2012.’ Some of the media reached for their phones. ‘Nor are the ideas of Christ unique,’ Aleta declared. ‘The codex makes plain that the message of how we should do the right thing by our neighbour is common to a great many religions – Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Islam – and if you were brought up as a child in Baghdad, it is not Christ’s resurrection you would be taught to believe in, but rather the resurrection of the great Prophet Muhammad on his night journey from Mecca to Jerusalem and back again. No one can claim they have the only path. There are many paths to the Omega, as the codex makes clear, because religion is an accident of birth. If we do not learn to get along and respect our different cultures, religion will be one of the forces that destroys us.’
Cardinal Felici snapped a pencil.
‘But the most strident warning in the codex concerns our treatment of the environment, because it was this, in the end, that destroyed the mighty Mayan civilisation and forced them to abandon their cities. The conference in Copenhagen, like every environmental conference before it, was an abject failure, yet the evidence of dramatic changes in weather patterns is there for everyone to see. The Maya Codex is clear: if we don’t change course, the sceptics who advocate protection of jobs will find there are no jobs left to protect. Finally,’ Aleta said, ‘the Maya Codex is quite clear about the coming confluence of our solar system with a supermassive black hole at the centre of the Milky Way.’ There was a look of expectation on the face of every journalist in the plaza. ‘NASA has confirmed the ancient astronomers were right, down to the last second. Added to that, the scientific evidence is clear that the earth’s magnetic field is now at its lowest strength in recorded history, and the poles are moving across the wastes of the Arctic and Antarctic at over thirty kilometres a year. Sunspot power is rising dramatically, and will peak in 2012, but I would caution against extreme action.’
Arana nodded knowingly from where he was standing beside O’Connor near the base of Pyramid I.
‘Governments should instead put in place plans for a possible pole shift, and issues such as the effect on communications should be addressed; that is only prudent. Governments should also ensure that our knowledge banks are stored in the ether, that hardware backups are secured on higher ground, and that plans for evacuation from coastal areas are developed and rehearsed. But again, I would warn against any alarmist action, because my dear friends amongst the Mayan elders have a different view.’ Aleta turned to acknowledge José and the other elders and warriors.
‘The elders are aware that 21 December 2012 will open a spiritual portal – a portal of great energy and hope, but it will only be accessible to individuals who are prepared to reassess their priorities, those committed to a more peaceful, calmer existence. The portal will also be accessible to powerful countries, but only those countries which realign their foreign policies towards a fairer and more balanced view of the world, and encourage their citizens towards not tolerance, but acceptance of different cultures. If that happens, there is great hope. If not, the codex is very clear. We will suffer the same fate as the powerful Maya.’
The Mayan warriors stood guard outside O’Connor and Aleta’s chalet. Inside, José was taking his leave.
‘We can’t thank you enough, José,’ Aleta said, her eyes moist as she kissed the shaman on both cheeks.
‘It is enough that you have recovered the codex,’ he replied, shaking O’Connor’s hand. ‘Although I fear the world will debate this for a short time, just as they have climate change, and the media will move on. When that happens, remember the Inca,’ he said enigmatically. And with that, he was gone.
‘Are we in the clear?’ Aleta asked.
O’Connor shook his head. ‘Washington will deny any knowledge of CIA involvement here, and of the experiments in Gakona. That’s standard procedure. Deny and deny and keep denying in the hope the media will lose interest, until incontrovertible evidence surfaces that demands a retraction. There are powerful forces in Washington who still want my guts for garters, and as long as Wiley’s still alive and kicking, he won’t rest until he’s silenced me.’
‘And me. So what do we do now?’
‘I’ve got some old friends in Mossad. They’re getting close to von Heißen’s trail in Peru, which coincidentally, is the home of the Inca. There’s a cargo ship leaving Puerto Quetzal in two days’ time, and the captain’s an atheist.’
‘Single bunks?’
‘Double bed.’
‘Count me in.’
AUTHOR’S NOTE AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
On a sultry day in February 2008, I flew back from the highland jungles of Guatemala, and into Guatemala City. Because of cultural celebrations, it had been hard to find accommodation in the city centre. Instead, I finished up in a delightful hotel, the Vista Real: an oasis of fountains and gardens in the hills above the city opposite the Agua and Fuego volcanoes. The next morning, the hotel’s equally delightful staff were gracious in their accommodation of my less-than-perfect Spanish. They assured me, ‘Sí, señor. Será bien.’ All would be well. Someone would come for me. A short while later, a black vehicle pulled up in the driveway and a man came into the foyer.
‘¿ Señor d’Hagé? Jerónimo Lancerio. Mucho gusto.’
Typical of the wonderful hospitality of the Guatemalans, the Minister for Culture himself had come up into the hills, on a very busy day in the cultural calendar, to pick me up. At Ministro Lancerio’s headquarters I was given a series of briefings on Mayan culture and his department’s plans for
the future, which are impressive. I am deeply grateful to the Minister and his staff for their time, including Señor Tzunam B’alam. My thanks to Señor Jorge Chaclan and Charlie Hogg and his staff at Brahma Kumaris, who organised the meetings.
I am also grateful to the Nobel Laureate, Rigoberta Menchú, who provided her assistant, Aura Leticia Cuxe Pirir to facilitate translation. In 1992, Rigoberta received the Nobel Peace Prize ‘in recognition of her work for social justice and ethno-cultural reconciliation based on respect for the rights of indigenous peoples’. Like the fictional Ariel Weizman, Rigoberta lost her mother and father and several members of her family at the hands of a brutal Guatemalan military. The dark hand of the CIA has never been far from these killings, and the US School of the Americas at Fort Benning, Georgia, was at the forefront of training murderous thugs, prompting the then US President Clinton in March 1999 to express regret for the US role in Guatemala’s thirty-six-year civil war, saying that Washington ‘was wrong’ to have supported Guatemalan security forces who tortured, kidnapped and murdered thousands of rural Mayans.
Much has been written about the coming events of 2012. The rare galactic planetary alignment is factual. Whether or not that translates into a pole shift remains to be seen, although the earth’s changing magnetic field and an increase in sunspot activity may be portents. There is an alignment, too, between many of the ancient cultures. The Incas (the subject of the next book in this trilogy), the Aztecs, Hopis, Pueblo Native Americans, Cherokees (whose calendar also ends in 2012), Zulus, Maoris and the ancient Egyptians (the subject of the last book in this trilogy) all have traditions and prophecies for 2012, ranging from the apocalyptic to an increase in consciousness for those souls advanced enough to make the adjustment. Most forecast an increase in spirituality, at the expense of the dogma of religion, which would be no bad thing. The Mayan elders have not had much to say – yet, eschewing the more sensational coverage regarding 2012 such as that depicted in the recent movie, 2012. Notwithstanding, most agree that unprecedented change is upon us, and the increase in volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, floods, wildfires and tsunamis may well be warnings that we continue to ignore. In November 1992, some of our finest minds – 1700 scientists, including over a hundred Nobel laureates – warned that: ‘Human beings and the natural world are on a collision course. Human activities inflict harsh and often irreversible damage on the environment and on critical resources. If not checked, many of our current practices put at serious risk the future that we wish for human society and the plant and animal kingdoms, and may so alter the living world that it will be unable to sustain life in the manner that we know.’ We took little notice in 1992, just as nearly twenty years later, we have failed dismally to take any action at Copenhagen. As Aleta Weizman puts it, ‘The sceptics who advocate protection of jobs in front of protection of the environment will soon find there are no jobs to protect.’
The activities and characters at Gakona are fictional, but the HAARP (High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program) facility is very real, and worried scientists and environmentalists have questioned the real purpose of the facility. If it is a harmless exploration of the upper atmosphere, why is it run by US Defense? The military has long been experimenting with how the weather might be controlled. Is there a link between HAARP and the current increase in earthquakes? Scientists have also pondered the dangers the current HAARP experiments may pose, much as the experiments associated with the atomic bomb produced unmitigated catastrophes. The Castle Bravo experiment referred to in this novel was the codename for the testing of a US thermonuclear hydrogen bomb at Bikini Atoll in 1954. Without going into detail, scientists made an horrendous error when they assumed the lithium-7 isotope, which made up sixty per cent of the lithium content of the Castle Bravo bomb, would be inert. Far from inert, the lithium-7 isotope was highly fissionable, and the bomb yielded fifteen megatons – way in excess of the expected five megatons. Radioactivity was increased a thousandfold and monitoring equipment was vaporised by the blast. The crews of naval ships monitoring the tests and thousands of islanders were affected, with resultant widespread cancer. Traces of the fallout reached as far as Australia, Japan, India and parts of Europe. Like the characters, the Gakona experiments in this novel are fictional, but …
There are many people involved in the production of a novel, and the superb team at Penguin has been at the forefront. The delightfully forthright, yet diplomatic Bob Sessions; my publisher, Ben Ball; the unsung heroes in design, including Elissa Webb; Sally Bateman and her great PR team; and Peg McColl who, at my request, continues to woo Italian publishers (the bottle of Moët still stands, Peg). Thank you to the consultant designer, Dave Altheim, for another wonderful cover, and to Bridget Maidment and Arwen Summers for their perceptive editing. Last, but certainly not least amongst the men and women of Camberwell Road, is my editor, Belinda Byrne, whose contribution has been invaluable.
Monsignor Jennings is fictional, but sadly, there has been no shortage of Catholic ‘role models’ on which to base his character. That said, there are myriad Catholic priests around the world who deserve our utmost respect and affection. Nor is paedophilia confined to the Catholic Church. Priests of other denominations as well as teachers in some of our most prestigious schools have molested children and ruined countless young lives. But it is the Vatican’s and the wider Catholic Church’s consistent, repeated and criminal cover-up of this activity ‘for the good of the Catholic Church’ that puts paedophilia so deservedly in the spotlight. If the evidence that has recently (and not so recently) come to light is substantiated, the Catholic Church stands guilty of abusing human rights – the very rights it claims to uphold.
It is not widely known, but starting with Saint Peter, for the first thousand years of the Catholic Church, Catholic priests were able to marry. The charismatic Christ had absolutely nothing to say on the issue, and indeed, he enjoyed a special relationship with women. Celibacy for Catholic priests wasn’t introduced until 1022, when Pope Benedict VIII banned marriages and also found it necessary to ban mistresses. A major (although not the only) factor was inheritance. The Vatican was worried that on a married priest’s death, his assets would go to his family, and not the Church. A later order by Pope Innocent II forced married priests to divorce their wives, many of whom finished up destitute. Few of us (less than one per cent) are wired to be celibate, and contrary to the claims of some prominent pro-Catholic journalists, research indicates as few as two per cent of the clergy achieve pure celibacy. Pope Benedict XVI now has the opportunity to reverse the decision of his predecessor. That is not to say the abolition of celibacy will solve the paedophilia problem in the Catholic Church, but it would at least provide priests with a healthy, wholesome outlet for natural sex drives (both heterosexual and homosexual). The fictional Cardinal Felici protected Monsignor Jennings’ criminal activities, for the good of the Catholic Church. Now there is a real-life stench emanating from a sewer in Rome, coming not from the Tiber, but from within the walls of the Vatican itself.
In writing this novel, many others outside Penguin have also provided advice, encouragement and occasional solace. To Robyn, who has seen me when the going has been at its roughest, and to Antoinette and friends, my heartfelt thanks. My agent, Clare Forster (Curtis Brown), has given unstintingly of her time, reading the manuscript and, as always, providing insightful advice; I am very lucky to have her on my team. To Kate, Nic and Patrick at the Stockmarket Café in Leura, and patrons like Stephen Measday, Guy and Jayne, Rod and Bronwyn, and the other locals who frequent the long wooden table to solve the problems of the world. To Mary Rodwell, the director and founder of ACERN, the Australian Close Encounter Resource Network, for her counsel on understanding the phenomenon of past lives. To Tom, Wendy, Jodie, Tom, Kathie, Imogen, Tegan, Judy and the rest of the staff at Megalong Books. To Caroline Ladewig, who read some of the early drafts, and provided the sort of wonderful feedback you’d expect from one who lectures in English, a very big thank you. I’ m a
lso indebted to other scholars, such as Dr José Argüelles, Dr Carl Johan Calleman, Professor Michael D. Coe, Maurice Cotterell, Barbara Hand Clow, Adrian Gilbert, John Major Jenkins, Geoff Stray, and many others. To include them all would be to footnote a novel.
Historians may note my adjustment of some of the chronology and timing of real events, particularly in Nazi Germany. That has been done to suit the plotlines, and again, any errors are mine alone.
Finally, to my two boys, David and Mark (to whom whose partner and spouse this novel is dedicated), the former a senior fireman, the latter a detective, who continue to scratch their heads as to what their father might be up to.
MICHAEL JOSEPH
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THE MAYA CODEX Page 37
