‘Sort of like a built-in sonar, huh?’
‘That’s right. Echolocation gives whales x-ray vision. Grandma says a dolphin or whale can detect a shark swimming hundreds of meters away, using its echolocation to see right into its belly to determine if it’s fed recently.’
‘Does your grandmother know why there are so many whales migrating into the Gulf of Mexico?’
‘It’s the anomaly.’
‘Anomaly? What anomaly?’
‘The one she detected in the Chicxulub Crater. It’s screwing up the whales’ sense of direction.’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘Inside a whale’s brain are these things called magnetite crystals. Whales navigate by tuning in to the Earth’s magnetic force fields. It’s sort of like having a built-in compass. The magnetic anomaly in the Gulf is scrambling their compasses, confusing them. That’s why a lot of them are beaching. My grandpa Julius, he knew all about whales, too.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘It’s in his journal.’ The teen types in another command, causing a new home page to appear on screen.
THE JOURNAL OF JULIUS GABRIEL
Your grandfather’s memoirs?’
‘Uh-huh. Jake transferred everything to audio disk. Computer, recite Journal Entry 722.’
JOURNAL E NTRY #722
RECORDED ON THE N AZCA P LATEAU, N AZCA, P ERU.
JANUARY 17, 1993.
The computerized voice of the late Julius Gabriel crackles from behind the surround-sound speakers:
Of all the zoomorphs engraved in the desert pampa, perhaps the most bizarre are those of the three Nazca whales, each mammal drawn distinctly different from the next.
I shall begin with the oldest of the lot, a thirty-foot specimen possessing an enormous fluke and four leglike appendages. Although several of my colleagues regard the addition of these strange appendages as ‘artistic license,’ I disagree, believing our ancient artist had something different in mind.
Paleontologists have determined that modern whales descended from an extinct giant rodentlike land mammal called a Pakicetid. This terrestrial creature mysteriously walked back into the sea on all fours sometime after the asteroid strike that led to the extinction of the dinosaurs. In the 25 million years that followed, evolution succeeded in transforming this land mammal into an ocean dweller.
Equally mystifying is a strange object that was drawn below the ancient cetacean’s lower jaw. Most of my peers have identified this feature as the mammal’s spout. Here I disagree emphatically. Anatomically speaking, a whale’s blowhole is part of its dorsal surface, yet this object has clearly been drawn below the creature’s lower jaw. My colleagues’ rebuttal to these inarguable facts is simply to shrug the matter off, crediting it to a mistake made by the artist.
Mistake? The ancient Nazca icons and geometric figures are inhumanly precise. Was the creator of these drawings capable of such a grievous error? I think not.
My theory, improbable as it sounds, is that the circular object was meant to represent a form of communication. I believe the creator of the Nazca drawings was able to communicate with these ancient whales, and the artist clearly wanted us to know it.
‘Computer, end program.’ Immanuel looks up at the old woman. ‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘Do you think the Guardian communicated with whales?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea.’
‘Jake thinks they did. Last night he was out on the beach and… ah, never mind. It’s stupid.’
‘What’s stupid?’
‘Nothing. I have to go.’
‘Wait, Manny, before you leave, I wanted to ask you a question.’
‘Just one?’
‘Are you happy?’
‘Are you?’
‘I try to be.’
Immanuel looks away. ‘I hate it here. It’s like being in prison. Mom’s paranoid-she never lets me leave, and Jake is a jerk, always acting like some goddam drill seargent. All he cares about is his stupid fantasies.’
‘It must be hard on you.’
‘It’s harder on her. He treats our mother like crap.’
‘Why do you say that? I’ve never seen him lose his temper with her.’
‘He treats her with indifference. Like he’s afraid to love her, or anyone, for that matter. My brother’s all business.’
‘Do you believe any of his stories? You know, the Mayan myths about the Hero Twins.’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘You know, I think you really love Jake a lot. I also think the two of you are a lot more alike than you let on.’
‘Don’t say that. You think I want to end up like him?’
‘No, but I think you have a good heart, Manny.’ She touches his chest with her palm. ‘Let it be your guiding light.’
Belle Glade, Florida October 28, 2027 11:17 p.m.
They can hear the heavy bass from the speakers pounding a block away.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ Regina says. ‘Just let yourself go.’
Lilith tugs nervously at her violet skintight top, trying to hide the bulge of her protruding nipples. ‘I wish you would have let me wait for Brandy.’
‘Forget about Brandy for one night. Tonight you’re with me.’
‘If Quenton saw me dressed like this, he would… well-’
‘Relax. Your grandfather’s asleep.’
‘You mean passed out.’
Regina takes her hand. ‘Just stick with me.’
The party is in full swing by the time they arrive. Cars are parked everywhere, in the driveway, on the street, and atop the lawn. A multiracial mix of teens flow in and out of the two-storey stucco and stone home, the night air drenched with the scent of beer and marijuana.
All eyes stare at Lilith as she follows Regina inside.
Strobe lights and heavy-metal music greet her, along with a wall of moving bodies.
‘Gina-hey, glad you made it!’ Brett Longley pushes his way towards them.
‘Hey, Brett. You know Lilith.’
‘Uh, sure, I’ve seen her around school. Hey, Lilith.’
‘Hi.’
‘Yeah, let’s get high.’ Gina places a white pill on her tongue, then turns to Lilith.
Brett watches the two girls French-kiss. ‘Damn. Save some of that for me.’
October 29, 2027 2:15 a.m.
Lilith is numb.
Numb is easy. Numb requires no emotions. No thinking. An occasional breath. Just open wide for a probing tongue and the numbness comes.
I’m a popular object…
Lilith lies back on the couch between Regina and Ron Ley.
Ron is tall. Ron is a senior. Ron plays varsity basketball and runs track.
Ron is white. Ron is cool.
Ron is horny. Lilith can feel his erection every time he leans over to steal a kiss.
‘Lilith, finish my beer.’
No more beer. More beer means throwing up, and throwing up makes the headaches come back.
Lilith takes the beer from Ron and drains it.
Ron likes me. Ron thinks I’m cool. Jacob will be so jealous.
Regina passes out on Lilith’s lap.
Across the smoke-filled room, Dante Adams drains his beer. Dante has been eyeing Lilith for hours.
Dante is horny.
Dante is a predator.
Ron kisses Lilith again. Squeezes her breasts way too hard, then takes her hand and leads her into the nearest bedroom.
Don’t do this, Lilith! She tries to pull away, but all resistance is gone.
So you’re dumb. Just be numb. At least you’re cool.
Dante follows them inside.
‘Don’t-’
‘Come on, baby-’
‘No… Ron, please don’t-’
‘I don’t like being teased.’
‘I wasn’t teasing.’
‘Fine. If you won’t let me put it in you, then just suck it.’
Brandy appears over Ron’s shoulder. Just do it. It’s easier than fighting him.
Lilith opens her mouth. Inhales a whiff of his manhood. Chokes back a gag reflex, then pukes all over Ron’s basketball sneakers.
‘Ugh… you stupid bitch!’ Ron slaps her hard across the face.
Too wasted to feel the pain and too high to locate the nexus, Lilith squeezes her eyes shut and sucks on the blood oozing from her lower lip.