‘There are six stages to remote viewing. We always begin with stage one. Do you know how telepathy works?’
‘One mind tunes to another.’
‘Correct. Remote viewing works the same way. Information, whether it’s in our past or future, is stored as energy in the psychic realm. To acquire bits of this information requires a clue or signal line. Your mind can be subconsciously tuned in to the meanings of these clue lines, or, in the case of you and your brother, your minds may be genetically enhanced to evoke, or call them up. Clues will come to you as sharp, rapid influxes of significance. Your preconscious nervous system will transmit these ideas through the muscles and nerves of your arm and hand and express them as marks on your paper. It’s very important that you not try to analyze these marks, just let them come. In the process, you might envision or remote-view different imaginary shapes for clues. When this happens, just tell me what you see. Again, don’t try to interpret anything. So? Sound like fun?’
The white-haired twin shrugs. ‘I can already do this.’
‘You can? Then this first coordinate should be easy for you.’
Phillips slides the first envelope in front of Jacob. ‘Interface with the object. Tell me what it is.’
The boy touches the envelope, then closes his azure-blue eyes. ‘This is too easy. It’s a beach, the beach in back of our compound.’
Phillips maintains his poker face, inside he is quite impressed. ‘Let’s try another.’ He skips the second envelope, jumping ahead to number three.
Jacob closes his eyes. ‘Man-made… bronze and steel… surrounded by water. I hear echoes of a city.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Statue of Liberty.’
Phillips says nothing, but his heart is pounding like a kettledrum.
‘Let’s try one more.’ He slides another envelope forward.
Jacob focuses inward.
A mountain… its volcanic peak rising higher…
The clue lines of Hawaii’s Diamond Head tighten in his mind – then suddenly evaporate, morphing into an ominous, alien world.
Crimson coals simmer along a subterranean ceiling, its embers refracting below along the molten surface of a silvery lake. Standing alone by the lake’s volcanic-sandy banks is a tree, like none he has ever seen. Wide as a silo, as white as the driven snow, its bare branches and alien bark drips a syrupy alabaster goo.
Situated within the ‘V’ of the great trunk is an object.
Jacob’s consciousness moves closer.
It is a human head, the severed neck melding into the tree’s ivory-colored ooze.
The eyes flash open, blazing a fiery azure blue.
Who’s out there? Whoever it is, stay away!
Ennis Chaney exits the elevator on the first floor, then turns left down the main corridor to the double doors marked: SOSUS LAB.
The underwater sound surveillance system, known as SOSUS, is a network of undersea microphones and cables originally configured by the United States Navy during the Cold War to spy on enemy submarines. As the military’s need for SOSUS began to dwindle, oceanographers successfully petitioned the Navy for access to the acoustic network. Using SOSUS, scientists could hear the infrasonic vibrations made by ice floes cracking, seabeds quaking, and underwater volcanoes erupting, sounds far below the range of human hearing.
Dominique’s adopted father, the late Isadore Axler, had been a marine biologist who had used his private SOSUS lab to study whale migration patterns in the Gulf of Mexico. In the winter of 2012, Isadore, using Michael Gabriel’s information about the Chicxulub Crater, had discovered strange acoustics originating from beneath the Gulf floor. His investigation of the site led to his death… and the eventual discovery of the remains of an alien transport ship, buried beneath the seafloor in the Gulf of Mexico.
At Edith Axler’s request, President Chaney had arranged for a SOSUS relay station to be set up in the Gabriel compound. Manny loved working in the lab, and his grandmother, Edith, took great pleasure in teaching her husband’s namesake how to record and analyze the voiceprints of whales, identify their species, and even track particular cetaceans as they moved throughout the Gulf of Mexico.
The president enters the lab. Manny is seated in his favorite chair, his headphones on as he eavesdrops on the whales. ‘Wow… listen, Grandma, I think I found a blue!’
Edith checks the source strength of the whale song. ‘One hundred eighty-six decibels. It’s a blue, all right.’ She signals Chaney over. Hands him a set of headphones.
Low-frequency moans echo in his ears. ‘That’s, uh, interesting.’
The lab door bursts open, Major Phillips hurries inside. ‘Sorry, sir, but we’ve got a situation.’
Jacob Gabriel lies on the floor of the Faraday chamber, unconscious. The staff physician listens to his heart, while Ryan Beck and a nurse attempt to comfort the boy’s visibly upset mother.
‘What happened?’ Chaney rasps.
The major shrugs. ‘Honestly, sir, I don’t know. Jacob’s mind is incredibly focused, giving him direct access to the clue line, better than any viewer I’ve ever worked with. Everything was fine, then he just blacked out.’
Dominique pushes her way to the major, poking her index finger against his chest. ‘Whatever you did to him-’
‘Ma’am, I swear… it wasn’t me. Jacob’s doing this himself.’
‘Blood pressure’s good,’ the doctor calls out. ‘Pulse is strong, but very slow. He seems to be in some kind of transcendental state. Let’s everyone try to stay calm and give him a few minutes.’
Father?
Who’s out there?
It’s Jacob. Your son.
Foul beast, go away! Think you can fool me with your -
Father, please, it’s really me. It’s Jacob. Jacob Gabriel. Father
Jacob? Jacob, is that really you? I’ve dreamed of you, son, but… but is this real? Is it really happening?
I’ve dreamed of it, too. And it’s happening, Father, it’s real.
But how? How is it we can communicate?
Thoughts are energy. We’re both Hunahpu. We share similar frequencies. Father, where are you?
I don’t know. I’m not even sure I exist. I have no physical form, but somehow I can think, and I can feel emotions. It’s as if I exist in a vacuum of energy, only I can’t escape.
Something’s out there, isn’t it? Something’s frightening you. It’s as if I can taste your fear. Father, what is it?
It’s the Abomination… I can feel its presence. It’s like ice, hovering in the periphery. It circles me like the shadow of death, always waiting for me to drop my defenses.
But what is it?
A presence of pure evil. It wants to feast on my soul.
Tell me what to do! How can I help?
You have helped, son, more than you’ll ever know. I’ve been so lost, drowning in loneliness and despair. Your thought energy… it’s like a lighthouse beacon to my soul. You’ve strengthened me, you’ve given me hope. I know now that I haven’t been abandoned, that I’m not alone. You’ve given me a newfound sense of being.
Father, there’s so much I need to ask you. The Mayan Creation Myth
… is it true? Am I really the son of One Hunahpu? Is it really possible for me and my brother to travel to Xibalba? Can you be… resurrected?
There’s no easy answer to that. There’s so much I need to tell you, and I want to, I have to, but it’s dangerous. The effort to communicate weakens me, and the Abomination hovers… waiting for me to lower my guard. Still, I must try, there’s so much at stake. Jacob, how old are you now?
Seven.
My God…
Father?
Wherever I am, it’s impervious to time. You say you’re seven?
Yes.
My own journey… it also began when I was seven. In fact, it was at seven that I first encountered evil.
Teach me, please! Tell me how it began for you.
I‘ll try. The memories… they’re very powerful, so vivid. I can still recall inhaling the scent of the rain forest, registering its heaviness in my lungs. I can hear its nocturnal symphony playing in my ears. And the Peruvian desert… as I recall the desolation of that awful Nazca plateau, I can almost feel the blood pooling in my extremities as the afternoon heat baked my skin in its searing embrace.