by Alten-Steve
President Zwawa reaches into his bottom drawer. Removes a flask and paper cup, his hands shaking as he pours himself a drink. ‘You’re talking about Mars Colony.’
‘Yes, sir. Mars has water, and water means life.’
‘Yes, but what kind of life? What future do we have on such a desolate planet?’
‘Sir, Project HOPE and our own scientists have put together an extensive plan for Mars colonization. As we speak, NASA’s geologists are working with HOPE to design a machine called an AGM, or Automated Greenhouse Machine. Powered by nuclear reactors, these mobile factories will produce vast quantities of perfluorocarbons—simple compounds of carbon and fluorine. In the right combination, these molecules are a thousand times more effective at trapping heat than carbon dioxide. Just a few parts per million of perfluorocarbons in the Martian air will produce enough warming to release vast amounts of CO2 from the Martian polar caps and soil. The thickening of the atmosphere will trap more heat, releasing even more gas. By raising the planet’s temperatures a mere twenty to thirty degrees Celsius, you start a runaway greenhouse effect.’
‘You’re going to terraform Mars?’ The president sits back, light-headed. ‘How soon?’
Alyssa Popov shrugs. ‘With HOPE’s resources, we can have the first of these AGMs pumping within three years. In a decade, we’ll have hundreds, enough to produce the gases necessary for a Martian atmosphere. Some of the colony’s materials can be mined from the planet’s two moons—our probes have detected usable concentrations of iridium and aluminum just beneath the surface of the Mars moon, Phobos. If all goes well, by 2070, the inhabitants of our colony might even be able to breathe Martian air without the use of pressurized suits.’
Zwawa stands. Paces. ‘How many? How many lives can we save before the doomsday event takes place?’
Alyssa looks at Lilith, then back at the president. ‘With the discovery of a second Mars aquifer, the colony can support as many as ten thousand people.’
‘Ten thousand? Ten thousand out of seven billion? And who decides who goes? You, Ms. Popov? You, Lilith?’
‘Actually, yes.’ Lilith’s azure eyes sparkle violet in the light.
‘This is barbaric.’
‘It is what it is. Face facts, John. This planet’s been overpopulated for decades. In a sense, an ice age is Earth’s way of cleansing itself. If history has taught us anything, it’s that those who can adapt survive, while the weak among us perish. It’s nature’s way.’
‘How can you be so cold-hearted?’
‘Sir, those chosen will be contributing members of New Earth. Scientists and high-tech farmers, engineers, physicians, and skilled laborers. We’ll start humanity over again using the best of the best—’
‘—and the wealthiest, of course,’ Lilith chimes in. ‘To pull this off requires vast sums of money—money that cannot be allocated through Congress, unless you want planetwide anarchy. I’ve already started dialogue with CEOs of the Fortune 100s and a dozen private bankers, all of whom are dying—excuse the pun—to invest in HOPE’s Mars Colony.’
Zwawa sits back in his chair, the blood draining from his face. ‘If you don’t need federal funding, then why are you even coming to me?’
‘First,’ Alyssa says, ‘because we need your support in shutting down the handful of government and private agencies who might accidentally stumble across the truth. Yellowstone must be shut down to all nonessential personnel. We have a few emergency scenarios in mind, toxic sulfur leak, that sort of thing.’
‘Second,’ Lilith says, ‘because HOPE requires information and access that only you can provide.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘Sir, to build Mars colony will take hundreds of supply missions. At present, it still takes NASA six full months and a helluva a lot of fuel to reach Mars. But if we could harness a different source of fuel, say … zero-point energy—’
‘—then,’ finishes Lilith, ‘we could cut the costs and travel time by a huge margin.’
‘Zero-point energy? Don’t know anything about that—’
‘Of course you do, Mr. Former Vice President.’ Lilith slips behind his desk and rubs his temples, registering the cold sweat dampening the man’s hairline. ‘What I need from you is complete access and control over Project GOLDEN FLEECE, and John … I want it now.’
29
NOVEMBER 22, 2033: HANGAR 13, KENNEDY SPACE
CENTER, CAPE CANAVERAL, FLORIDA
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 déjà vu, that strange feelin
g that you’ve lived through a particular scene or situation before.’
‘I know what a déjà 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 m
onster 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.’