Good luck. Looking forward to hearing your voice, even if it is in the frequency of a blood-sucking insect. Cheers mate, Alex
After last night’s kiss, my heart sinks when I read this.
I spend what’s left of the day doing research, updating the website, and generally planning for the talk tonight. Justine seems distant and I hate that I let a boy come between us in any way. While I’m in the room on the computer, she’s by the pool. I tell myself that sometimes a little space is a good thing.
Mr. Papers is hard at work on some origami projects but when I look over at him, he hides his work in a hotel stationary envelope. He’s never done this before, but I respect his privacy so I don’t pry.
Justine comes back around four, seeming more relaxed. She says she’ll be all ready to go right after she showers. We need to take the bus to Palenque, go in like all the other tourists, and then stash ourselves in the observatory tower in El Palacio until the place closes.
Even with all the work I’ve done today, I’m still not sure I know what I’ll say.
We make it to the door of the tower on top of The Palace and then wait for crowds to thin before we check the wire gate. Once we’re alone, we try the gate, which has been left unlocked like Bolon promised. Quickly closing the gate behind us, we scramble to the top and hunker down so no one can see us. We still have an hour or so to wait. Mr. Papers has been inside my backpack—we didn’t think they’d let him in here with all the howler monkeys around—so I unzip it and let him out. I see he has brought the hotel stationary envelope with him, stuffed with flattened origami.
We sit on the floor and look at the stone walls that go up about five feet. Above the walls are windows, which we need to avoid. It’s kind of soothing to be deprived of sight but still be able to hear everything that’s going on below us. Throngs of tourists—most of them speaking foreign languages—milling about, howler monkeys starting their early evening communication, trees blowing in the lazy breeze. Slowly, the human sounds quiet down while the jungle sounds get louder.
Well after we hear the last voice, I’m still too nervous to peek over the edge to see if it’s clear. I whisper to Mr. Papers to do it; though he doesn’t look like a howler he’s still less conspicuous than a red-headed American girl. He hops up to the ledge and looks all around, at one point even curling his fist and holding it to his eye like a scope to get a clearer view. When he motions for us to stand up, we do it slowly and stand just tall enough to peer over the edge. It’s completely clear.
The dark comes quickly once the sun sets behind the tall trees that surround the ruins. I look at the time on my laptop—7:45. Just fifteen minutes to gather my thoughts.
“Would you like me to wait on the steps below?” Justine asks, sensing how nervous I am. “I know how weird you are about this being a ‘performance.’”
“Honestly, it has nothing to do with you. It would just be weird to do this with anyone watching.”
“I totally get it,” she replies, holding out her hand for Mr. Papers. He shakes his head and holds up his envelope. “I guess he’s got info for you.”
I laugh, which feels nice. I don’t remember laughing all day.
Despite the tense day, my best friend descends to sit in the dark ruins below me so that I will feel more comfortable. My heart swells with love for her, and that swelling reminds me of exactly what needs to be done. When it’s a few minutes before eight, I set up and rig my flashlight so my face is somewhat lit.
At eight on the dot, I start the live streaming video, hoping that Alex’s app is translating it all into Mosquito Tone.
THIRTY-ONE
Hello again, friends,” I begin, pausing just long enough to pretend that the world is saying hello back. I feel that coldness at my core that I remember from last time I did one of these, and quickly visualize myself as a funnel, collecting information and condensing it out the other side.
“This time I’m coming to you from an ancient Mayan city deep in the jungle. If you hear something like the roar of a jaguar in the background, that’s just the howler monkeys. This is truly a place full of mystery and wonder. But I guess it’s turning out that there are many places of mystery and wonder on this planet of ours.
“Last time, I told you about this force of corruption that’s controlling the world—controlling the money, the wars, the trade, even our bodies. And I said we can change that.
“We are the most powerful group to inhabit this planet in recorded history. There have never been as many people under twenty living at the same time before. We hold in our hands—actually our hearts—the power to change this course of corruption and the course of our own evolution.
“I have been told that everything is consciousness. That we shouldn’t keep asking how our brain evolved to a level of consciousness because the real question is, how did consciousness evolve our brain? It is freaky, when you really think about it. I mean, how did what started as a cluster of hydrogen atoms eventually become a human that is conscious of itself? And why? What is the next level? If we apply the As above, so below theory, then each little part has to look like the whole. We are moving from just being humans who are aware of our own selves, to a bigger collective organism that is aware of itself.”
I wonder for a second if anyone is listening and then decide it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I tell the truth.
“The Mayan Tzolk’in calendar that follows human cycles is 260 days long. That’s a fractal of 26,000, the number of years it takes the Earth to get back to the very spot where the sun will rise on December 21, 2012. This means that the 260-day human calendar is a fractal of a larger human calendar. What started as individual consciousness 26,000 years ago could evolve into a collective consciousness now.
“I know this sounds weird, like we’ll all move as one blob or something, but that’s not what it’s about. It’s about realizing that we are, and always have been, connected. It’s about using that connectedness for good.”
Mr. Papers riffles through his envelope and takes out five small origami suns. I scratch behind his ears, and smile to thank him for helping guide me.
“We are entering the cycle of the Fifth Sun. The first cycle was of feminine energy and was ruled by fire, the second cycle was of masculine energy and earth ruled it. The third cycle was feminine and air ruled it, the fourth cycle—the one we’re ending now—was of masculine energy and water ruled it. The fifth cycle, the one that starts in 2012, is a cycle of harmony between masculine and feminine and ether will rule it. Ether is different from air—ether is the stuff that space is made up of, what is called ‘dark energy.’ It comes through us, in us, around us. I think this is fascinating because we spend the majority of our time online sending and receiving information through the ether. But ether is not being used just for good. Superpowers are spending untold dollars working toward using our upper atmosphere as a weapon and a shield; they are trying to harness the power of ether to block the energy coming to us from the Galactic Center.
“This Fifth Sun ruled by ether is where we will all connect as our consciousness becomes like the thinking layer of the Earth. There are now enough human brains to connect as one—through the ether. When this comes about, a shift will happen. This is what the Shadow Government is so afraid of.
“We are all, every one of us, just a cluster of vibrations. Nothing but energy. So how can we not be affected by the electromagnetic energy coming from the galaxy? After 26,000 years, our sun is once again rising in line with the center of the galaxy on winter solstice of 2012.”
Next Mr. Papers takes out an origami ring. With one pull it pops up into a 3D donut, a torus.
“The black hole at the center of the galaxy is putting out more energy than we can even fathom. The calendar the Maya tuned for humans, this Tzolk’in calendar, was called the ‘Pieces of the Sun.’ Now I finally get why—because these cycles of sunspots, which are very literally ‘pieces of the sun,’ are what infect us with information, with consciousnes
s. These sunspot cycles are like accelerators for whatever energy is coming from our galaxy. The year 2012 just happens to be the time when the sun rises in line with the center of the galaxy and we have solar storms at their maximum. Think of the energy from the galaxy like a powerstation and the sun as a power transformer that delivers the energy in a way we can consume it. This is the energy that will change us, if we allow it.
“All these ancient sites that have these mysterious old symbols of the Flower of Life and the Three Hares, these are places that hold knowledge about how the universe works—subversive knowledge that those in power don’t want us to know. Even da Vinci has drawings of this, of the Flower of Life spinning and turning into a torus. This donut shape is so important on every level, from microscopic to universal. Electrons and black holes move in exactly the same way! Isn’t that incredible, and yet at the same time kind of obvious? We are all just spinning energy. The trick is to spin in unison, in coherence.
“That’s why we need these daily hertz tones, these vibrations that reverberate. We must become one—and I don’t mean we are one in the woo-woo sense; I mean it in the physical sense.
“So maybe what the Maya meant by 2012 being ‘the end of time as we know it’ is merely the end of time as a linear thing. If we are truly linked, if you can be everywhere at once, then is there time? Is there space? Or is there only flux and flow?”
I see Mr. Papers looking in his envelope for something. Then he pulls out a flattened star, pops it back into its 3D origami form, and holds it on his hand like an offering. I nod.
“The oldest stories around are the stories of the stars,” I say. “Years from now, even little children will think it’s crazy that we didn’t factor cosmic forces into evolution, that we thought we were untouched by the energy around us. It’s like us looking back to when people insisted the world was flat, and if you sailed too far away you’d fall off. Crazy talk! Because where things are in the sky matters.
“The corruption is deep, and it’s wide. These people are brilliant. They know how to piggyback disinformation on truth. But there are cracks. Look around—the breakdown is everywhere: banking, politics, churches, corporations. What the Fraternitas has put in place can’t hold. So they’re scared and they’re raising the stakes with more conflicts, more wars, more exploitation of poor people.”
Next Mr. Papers pulls out a dollar, folded into the shape of a heart. A perfect piece of communication.
“We have to do a mass shift of money, just as we shift our consciousness. This is key, because only by releasing people from the bondage of the Fraternitas can we allow for the kind of personal freedom and love necessary for this transformation, this shift.
“There, I said it: LOVE. Love is what it will take. Remember that donut shape I was talking about, the torus? Science can now demonstrate that the muscles in the heart make a torus-shaped energy field when it pumps. The stronger the feelings of love, the stronger the field gets. How beautiful is that? Now do you see why it’s so important for the Fraternitas to keep us in a state of fear and panic? So that our waves cancel each other out.
“We are all part of a vast universe expanding and contracting as it spins. The expanding part creates energy, radiating light and energy outward; the contraction part creates gravity, holding on. On every level, it’s just one big in-and-out breath. We, like all other things in this universe that spin in this way, create gravity!
“There is nothing we cannot do. We are full of infinite creativity, infinite possibility, infinite love.
“Connect now, this moment, with a feeling of love. Love for a person, for a pet, for a parent. The Fraternitas, the Shadow Government, has been trying to keep us off balance for thousands of years. But we’re finally at a place where we can take that power back. That power is within each one of us—it is literally in our hearts.
“These are rough and magical times, as the masters say. Be mindful, be heartful. And above all, remember: we are the ones we have been waiting for.”
At that I click “stop” on the video stream and close my computer. From where I’m sitting, I can see a patch of sky through a window above me. I breathe deeply, trying to hold a memory of every sense—the moist, warm air; the smell of roots and trees and river water; the hard, cool stone against my back; the sight of tiny sparkling pinpricks popping through a flood of violet sky.
And for less than a second, so short a time I don’t know if it’s real or an illusion, I see forms disappear and all I see is pulsing energy.
I feel it, I really do.
I feel the swell of whatever it is. Unity. Collectiveness. Oneness. It comes over me like a tide of energy, swirling, lifting my own energy with it.
“Did you just feel that?” Justine asks from below. Her voice sounds tiny and far away.
I stand up and walk down to her.
“That was amazing,” I say. “I totally felt that.”
“It was like being in a washing machine of energy for a minute, swirling and tumbling with the other clothes!”
“Is it over now?” I ask.
“Or are we just used to it?”
Mr. Papers shakes his head and makes a wave motion with his hand.
“Let’s get back so I can listen to the recording,” Justine says. “I didn’t even get to hear anything! What did you say?”
I can’t really remember. It’s weird how stuff just sort of comes through me.
As I’m stuffing my laptop into my backpack, we hear the loudest howler monkey concert in history. All of a sudden they are all howling together, which sounds like a pack of lions all roaring at once. Mr. Papers jumps into the backpack with the laptop and burrows down.
“We gotta get out of here!” I say, zipping the pack almost closed and grabbing Justine’s hand. We run down the stone steps as fast as we can, then down through the tiny, pitch-black staircase that winds through the base of the palace. For some reason it’s ten times scarier than when we snuck in, maybe because the howlers are still going crazy with noise. When we finally exit the palace ruins, we sprint down the wide open grass to the back exit. Just as we’re gaining speed, Justine stops abruptly.
“What?” I ask “What’s wrong?”
“Wait. There’s no one after us; just chill for a minute. Look up. We may never be here again. I want to remember this as a magical place, not some place I was scared of.”
She’s right. I look around at the ruins: the stately Temple of the Sun that hides its golden secret, the Temple of the Foliated Cross all wonky and beautiful, the grand Temple of Inscriptions fit for the king who is still entombed beneath it.
We look up at the stars and can almost see them rotating in the sky.
We are wondrous beings in a wondrous land.
THIRTY-TWO
The alarm goes off at 8:00, which we figured would give us enough time to eat and jot down some ideas for Clath, just to make it seem like we studied all day yesterday. Before I hop in the shower, I check my phone and see that I have a new text.
And then I read six little words that change my life: Li is dead. You are next.
“No!” I scream. “No!”
There is a hollowness to my voice, like it’s been processed through a digital music program to remove all the humanness. I fall to the floor and put my face between my knees. I have never felt anything like this.
Uncle Li is dead.
And it’s all my fault for not getting to him soon enough.
Justine comes over and grabs my phone. After reading the text, she crumples to the ground next to me.
“I didn’t think they’d do it. How could they do it? I thought they were bluffing!”
Justine just shakes her head and stares at the wall. “Caity, we have to call someone,” she says flatly. “We have to call the police, or the FBI, or—”
I shake my head. “Justine, we do not know who to trust! We can’t call the FBI! We can’t call the school, we can’t even tell Clath. Don’t you see? There. Is. No. One! ”
“Then what do we do? Just sit and wait to be next?”
“We have to disappear,” I say. “It’s the only way we’ll be safe.”
“Disappear? Like ‘witness protection plan’ disappear? Forever?”
I have to think this through for a minute.
“No. Not forever. Just until we get things under control. We both have to leave tonight—we’ll get tickets and go. But you cannot go back to San Francisco, not right now. You need to go somewhere safe—not home.”
“What? We have to split up? I can’t leave you!”
“We have to. There’s no other choice. They’ll be looking for me, not you. But if you go back to San Francisco with me, they’ll hunt you down too.”
“I don’t have anywhere else—”
“What about Princeton?” I say.
Justine closes her eyes and thinks for a minute. “I guess … ”
“Actually, it’s perfect—you can go stay with your grandfather and check in on Tenzo. Wait! You can take the books to Tenzo for translation! They’re not safe with me.”
“But where will you go? Where is it safe for you?”
“I have to go to San Francisco.”
“You can’t go there either!”
“I have to, Justine. It’s time.”
“For what?” she asks. “Time for what, Caity?”
“Time to take down the Fraternitas.”
Justine looks at me as if all my teeth have just fallen out.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, sucking up my composure. “But first we need to get you out of here.”
She nods, then points to Mr. Papers, who is in the corner making something that takes great care.
“What’s he making?” she whispers. I shake my head. Whatever it is, he wants to do it in private, and he’s taking his time to make it just right.
Looking online, we see a direct flight to New York leaving in four hours, so we book a seat for Justine. She starts packing up her stuff while I look for a flight for me. I find one to Los Angeles late tonight, with a connection to San Francisco.
The Serpent's Coil Page 16