by Steve Alten
The four guards drop like a house of cards.
Jacob is in the central garden of his home, seated in a lotus position. Registering the change in temperature, he opens his eyes.
Lilith is staring at him from the open shoji door. ‘Jacob?’
Jacob stares at her as if observing an approaching cobra, her smile electrifying his groin.
‘I always suspected you were still alive… always sensing the shadow of your presence.’ Her eyes flash violet. ‘You abandoned me!’
‘I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry? Is that all you have to say? You were my only friend, the only one who loved me. All of those promises… they were all lies.’
‘I did love you, Lilith, I still do.’
‘Bastard.’ She circles him, brushing her fingertips lightly across his chest and neck, their lips inches apart, the glow of their azure eyes reflecting off one another’s cheeks.
She moves closer, allowing her hip to brush against his groin.
‘I make you afraid. Why are you so afraid of me, Jacob?’
Lilith’s scent is in his nostrils, pounding in his blood. ‘I’m… I’m afraid of my feelings.’
‘Liar. You’re afraid of what I’ll become. But like you, I’m simply a product of my environment. Which means you helped create me, just as I’ve created you.’
She grins. Leans in. Pauses. Licks his lips.
A tidal wave of insanity overwhelms him as his mouth crashes against hers and their limbs entwine in the embrace-two victims of society, two polar extremes, two lonely souls sharing this one promised moment of passion.
Lilith pants in his ear as her fingers scramble to undo the belt buckle of his pants – while Jacob’s hand slides beneath her silky bottoms, groping her moist pubic region, all the while his conscience screaming at him, No, Jacob stop, Jacob stop… stop… stop… STOP!
He yanks his hand free, pushing her away. ‘I can’t… I can’t do this!’
Lilith’s azure eyes are full of lust, her lips red where the kiss has bruised them. ‘We were meant to be together.’
‘No… too dangerous.’
‘I want you, Jacob.’ She slips off her top, exposing her breasts. ‘I want you inside of me, and I won’t take no for an answer.’
And suddenly she is upon him, raping him from within the nexus. Jacob’s mind leaps inside the void to join her, Lilith’s nude torso thrusting up and down upon his naked pelvis, the intensity of the moment magnified a hundredfold within the supernatural corridor.
And in his single moment of weakness, he explodes inside her, planting his Hunahpu seed deep in her ovulating womb.
Exhausted and spent, their minds tumble out of the nexus, Lilith collapsing upon his chest. ‘You’re my soul mate, you always will be.’
Jacob Gabriel wraps his arms around her and weeps.
Salt and Pepper escort Dominique through the open vault door and down the main corridor.
‘Hold it!’ The two MTI security guards at the end of the hall raise their weapons. ‘No one leaves the facility without Mrs. Mabus’s permission. Stop or we’ll fire.’
The three continue running toward them.
The lead guard fires – the electrical burst immediately absorbed by their suits.
‘Fubishit-’
Ryan Beck is first to reach them. Grabbing each guard by the back of the neck, he slams their heads against the steel door, knocking them out.
Delray Beach, Florida
The estate home at the end of the cul-de-sac is similar to the other mansions in this very private, gated West Delray community. Like other homes, it overlooks a lake on three acres of land. It has a tennis court, a basketball court, and a pool, but seldom are they used-except when the grandkids come to visit. In fact, the only amenities its owner uses these days are the satellite dishes, and, of course, the live-in private security personnel.
Ominous clouds have blanketed the sky by the time the canary yellow Amphibian skids to a halt in front of the automated guardhouse located at the main entrance of the community.
Immanuel Gabriel climbs out. Presses the ID pad.
REMAIN BY YOUR VEHICLE, SIR. STATE YOUR BUSINESS.
‘Samuel Agler to see Frank Stansbury.’
STAND BY.
Heavy raindrops plop against the multicolored pavers. Come on…
PLEASE WAIT. MR. STANSBURY’S SECURITY VEHICLE WILL ESCORT YOU TO THE HOME MOMENTARILY. HAVE A NICE DAY.
Droplets have turned into a downpour by the time the security vehicle pulls up to the outer gate. An armed guard climbs out of the back seat, signaling for Immanuel and Lauren to get inside.
As the door closes and they drive into the complex, a tow truck arrives to haul the Amphibian away.
Inside the car, the driver says nothing. Immanuel notices Lauren’s hand is trembling. He squeezes it.
The vehicle enters the gated driveway of an estate, stopping beneath an enormous porte cochere, its rooftop shielding them from the rain.
The driver turns to face them. ‘Out you go. Mr. Stansbury is waiting for you inside.’
They exit the vehicle. Manny knocks on the imposing double oak door.
The door opens, releasing an aroma of glazed ham and stuffing.
The African-American is stooped over. The eyes are sunken, twitching behind old-fashioned spectacles. What’s left of the man’s hair has grayed.
The owlish smile is genuine, the voice a familiar rasp.
‘Hello, Manny. Been expectin’ you.’
Ennis Chaney, former president of the United States pulls his shocked godson in, out of the weather.
35
NOVEMBER 25, 2033: DELRAY BEACH, FLORIDA
Friday Night
Manny sits alone on the sofa opposite Ennis Chaney’s mahogany desk, feeling lost in time. ‘Jacob told you I’d be coming?’
‘Years ago. Your brother’s ability to foresee certain events convinced me long ago to go along with his schemes.’
‘So what happens now?’
‘I don’t know. Jacob told me to expect you, nothing more. So let’s talk about your fiancee. Lovely girl. Why haven’t you told her who you really are?’
‘How can I? How do you tell the person you love that you’ve been living a lie, that you’re not the person you claim to be?’
‘She deserves to know. What if you two have children? They could turn out like Jake.’
‘I know.’
‘Tell her.’
‘I will.’
‘When?’
‘Soon.’
‘Do it tonight.’
Immanuel looks up at his godfather. ‘Why tonight? What’s the rush?’
‘Just do it tonight.’ He leans back in his easy chair. ‘Now go bring her in, and let’s see if I can help her out of the mess she’s in.’
Immanuel finds Lauren in one of the guest rooms, changing into dry clothes.
‘Lauren, I spoke with Chaney. He wants to help.’
‘Thank God.’ Lauren hugs her fiance, then follows him back to the office.
Chaney sits back in his chair and thinks. ‘Okay, young lady, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say Professor Gabeheart was murdered because he suspected something someone wanted kept quiet. How do we prove it? Where’s the evidence?’
‘The evidence is in Yellowstone,’ she says. ‘The evidence is hidden beneath the hot springs and caldera.’
‘Assume things are as bad as you say, that the caldera is getting ready to erupt. Who’d want to keep it secret? And how could they?’
‘They’d do it by shutting down the park. They’d want it kept a secret to prevent a widespread panic.’
‘Mr., uh… President, we need you to bring Gabeheart’s death and this entire issue into the public eye. Once you do that, it eliminates the need for outside parties to keep Lauren silent.’
Chaney nods. ‘Okay, consider it done. By Sunday morning, the story will be sent to every media outlet in the world. Only then will we bring the F
BI in. Sound like a plan?’
‘Oh, God, thank you.’ Lauren wipes back tears of gratitude. ‘Thank you so much. And thank God you’re a big Miami booster.’ She looks at Immanuel. ‘Sam, I had no idea your father had such influential friends.’
Manny shrugs.
Chaney grins. ‘For now, the two of you will stay with me. Bad storm coming, but we should be okay.’ He stands, hobbling like an old soldier to the den door. ‘Come on, my wife’s prepared a Thanksgiving feast. Eat everything, or I’ll be dealing with leftovers past Christmas.’
Hangar 13, Kennedy Space Center,
Cape Canaveral, Florida
Hand in hand, Lilith and Jacob stand before the Balam ’s sealed entry.
‘Incredible,’ she whispers. ‘And this was built by our Hunahpu ancestors?’
‘No,’ Jacob says. ‘The origins of the starship remain a mystery.’
Danny Diaz, Dr. Mohr, Benjamin Merchant, and two gorillasized security guards join them on the gantry platform.
Merchant smiles. ‘Why, Lilith darlin’, you’re positively glowing. I’m extremely jealous.’
Jacob looks below. More than six hundred MTI technicians, scientists, and VIPs have gathered, all waiting to tour the interior of the sleek, gold-paneled vessel.
Lilith coos in his ear. ‘Open it, my love.’
‘Of course.’ Jacob closes his eyes.
The sealed panel door of the Balam slides open.
Lilith steps forward – and suddenly she is sent hurtling over the rail, falling to the crowd below.
The blur of movement that is Jacob Gabriel grabs Dave Mohr by his wrist, yanking the scientist inside the starship.
Lilith lands awkwardly atop the crowd. ‘Jacob!’ She scrambles to her feet. ‘Damn you, Jacob…’ She slips inside the nexus.
Jacob pulls Dave Mohr to his feet. ‘You okay?’
The scientist nods. ‘What happened?’
‘No time to explain, just hold on.’
A low rumbling sound, like a generator, echoes throughout the hangar, quickly increasing to a dull thunder.
The gantry trembles, sending the crowd rushing toward the nearest exits.
Lilith is flung free of the nexus as the long-dormant engines of the Balam power up. An invisible wave of electromagnetic energy is expelled from beneath the hull, blasting bodies, equipment, and ten years of dust in all directions.
Beneath this cushion of energy, the alien starship rises. Dorsal plates punch upward through the roof. Steel beams and metal sheeting tumble like kindling.
Lilith pulls herself free from beneath the fallen gantry and looks up, screaming her outrage, as the starship Balam disappears into the approaching gray storm clouds of Super-Cane Kenneth.
Delray Beach, Florida
11:37 p.m.
One-hundred-thirty-mile-an-hour gusts whip through the deserted streets of Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach Counties, announcing the arrival of Super-Cane Kenneth’s outer wind bands. The once-tranquil ocean swells thirty-five feet, the storm surge submerging the beach before pouring over sea walls to inundate scenic highway A-1-A. Waves lap against storefronts. A driving rain lashes palm fronds and debris, turning refuse into miniature missiles.
And the superstorm’s eye is still nine hours out to sea.
Cuddling beneath the blanket, Immanuel Gabriel curls his naked body around Lauren, nuzzling her neck, while outside, fierce winds hammer the steel hurricane storm shutters.
‘I feel safe in your arms,’ Lauren whispers.
‘I missed you.’
‘Why you were at the Cape?’
‘I was… visiting a relative.’
She rolls over to face him. ‘Who?’
‘My mother. My biological mother.’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘Lauren, I was adopted. I never told you about it because, well, I sort of wrote them out of my life long ago.’
She sits up. ‘Them?’
‘I have a brother. I saw him this week for the first time in six years. He has problems, mental problems. My mother may have to put him in an asylum. That’s why I had to come up to the Cape this week. She wanted me to see him before he’s locked away.’
‘I don’t know what to say. Are you okay with all this?’
‘Guess I’m a little screwed up.’
‘Can I meet them?’
‘Someday.’
She lays her head on his chest. ‘All this time, I had this terrible premonition you were getting ready to leave me.’
He swallows the lump in his throat. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘Promise?’
The wind howls outside and he hugs her tighter. ‘I’m not leaving you, Lauren. I promise.’
Hope Control Room, MTI Operational Headquarters,
Cocoa Beach, Florida
Saturday
2:35 a.m.
Lilith Mabus is in her late husband’s private office, seated before a wall of computer monitors. The upper two rows are real-time links being broadcast from NATS-Nanosat Trailblazer Spheres-cluster satellites, no larger than a basketball. Thousands of these spheres orbit the Earth, scanning every square inch of the planet.
Despite NATS extensive coverage, the alien starship is nowhere to be found.
‘Computer, replay security sequence.’
Another set of screens activate, revealing different angles of the perimeter security fencing surrounding Hangar 13.
The figure of a dark-haired man appears on screen. He crosses the compound and heads for the fence. Pauses, then practically vaults over the steel barrier before disappearing into the night.
Lilith’s azure eyes widen. ‘Computer, rewind and replay sequence at half speed.’
The image begins again.
‘Freeze. Focus on subject’s face. Increase magnification by ten.’
A blue square frames the man’s face, expanding and focusing.
The image of Samuel Agler appears on screen, frozen in time.
Jacob’s twin… the dark-haired one still lives! ‘Computer, identify subject.’
SAMUEL AGLER, IDENTIFICATION 13-9-23-FL-742-45-M. SUBJECT IS A PCAA ATHLETE CURRENTLY ENROLLED AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MIAMI.
Lilith claps her hands in delight. ‘Samuel, “the Mule” Agler is Immanuel Gabriel? Computer, tap into all government resources and communication links. Check identifications in all storm shelters and every mode of transportation. I want Samuel Agler found before dawn.’
Delray Beach, Florida
7:50 a.m.
Super-Cane Kenneth’s fury rips across South Florida’s landmass like a mad bull, uprooting trees, peeling away antiquated tile roofs, churning the community beneath a blizzard of wind and water.
Guided by its autopilot, the black stretch limousine finds its way through the storm, eventually arriving at the estate registered to Frank Stansbury. The vehicle parks itself beneath the huge porte cochere. A woman dashes for the front door.
Dominique shakes water from her hair, then hugs Ennis Chaney. ‘Where is he?’
‘In the shower. His fiancee’s here, too.’
‘Lauren’s here? Has he told her?’
‘He said he would.’
Lauren enters the foyer, dressed in a sweat suit. ‘Has he told me what? Who are you?’
Dominique turns on a smile. ‘I’m Immanuel’s mother. It’s so good to finally meet you.’
Lauren looks lost. ‘Immanuel? Who’s Immanuel?’
‘I am.’ Manny exits the bathroom.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Lauren, this is my real mother, Dominique Gabriel.’
‘Gabriel? Immanuel Gabriel…’ She makes the connection. ‘Oh, no… oh my God-’
‘Lauren-’
She pushes him away, then covers her mouth, fighting to breath. ‘But you’re dead. And Sam… who’s Sam-’
‘Calm down and listen-’
‘You lied… all these years.’
‘I had to. Can you understand that I had to lie? If word
got out-’
‘We have to go,’ Chaney announces.
‘Go where?’ Dominique and Lauren ask in unison.
‘Jacob’s given me very explicit instructions. We’ll take your limo. Dominique, Manny, let’s go. Lauren, you’re supposed to stay here.’
‘No way.’ Lauren grabs Immanuel’s arm. ‘Wherever he goes, I’m going, too.’
‘Out of the question,’ Chaney states.
‘Either she comes, or I stay,’ Immanuel says.
Chaney eyeballs his godson, who returns the old man’s glare. ‘God dammit, I’m too old for this foolishness.’ He looks at Lauren, the girl desperate. ‘Okay, everyone in the goddam car!’
Meteorology Lab, University of Miami
7:50 a.m.
The Meteorology Center is a beehive of activity as dozens of technicians from the Earth Systems Management Agency track Super-Cane Kenneth, its monstrous eye less than twenty miles offshore.
Bruce Doyle stares at the cyclone’s image on his screen.
Sweet Jesus, it’s heading straight for Biscayne Bay…
Two floors down, Special Agent Collin Shelby sips his coffee as he waits for the latest encoded dispatch from UMBRA headquarters in Virginia. Twenty hours earlier, Lauren Beckmeyer’s fiance had placed an unsecured communication from Miami Beach. Satellite eavesdropping had immediately zeroed in on both subjects, who had headed north and were given shelter in a Delray Beach home registered to a retired airline pilot going by the name of Frank Stansbury. This last bit of information was quite disconcerting. What if it’s another biological attack…
Shelby’s communicator vibrates. He places the sunglasses on his face, reading the encrypted message appearing across the inside of the tinted lenses.
ALERT: SUBJECT’S VEHICLE TRAVELING SOUTH ON SH-95, HEADING FOR MIAMI. FLOOD ZONE.
Shelby rubs his sleep-deprived eyes. ‘Flood Zone’ was UMBRA’s term for killing the subject and all witnesses. Whatever act of terrorism this Lauren Beckmeyer and her accomplices were planning had to be something big.
The government assassin checks his weapons, then grabs his rain gear and heads for the door.
Inside the Limousine, Miami Beach, Florida
9:36 a.m.
Immanuel squeezes Lauren’s trembling hand.
