‘This whole Mayan Xibalba thing… you really believe it’s our destiny?’
‘It is the journey that we were genetically programmed to follow.’
‘Yeah, right. But you also said that humanity’s stuck in a time loop. And you mentioned we’ve made the journey before.’
‘We’ve been there, yes.’
‘So, if we’ve been there, why are we still stuck in this time loop?’
Jacob sits on the edge of the tatami bed. ‘Our last effort failed. I’m not certain why, but I believe our attack was not properly… coordinated.’
‘By failed, I take it you mean we died?’
‘Don’t worry, this time everything is different. This time our father has reached out to prepare me. I’ve also spent the last six years readying battle plans in the holographic suite. I’ve re-created and analyzed every possible attack scenario. You’ll understand once your training begins.’
‘I want to understand now.’
‘It’s late, Manny. Get some sleep, and tomorrow I’ll-’
‘Now, Jacob!’
Jacob closes his eyes, debating. ‘Computer, activate guestroom screen.’
A panel of clear smart-glass rises from a bamboo floorboard.
‘Computer, load last combat scenario. Commence replay five thousand frames prior to contact in the nexus.’
A scene illuminates upon the face of the smart-glass. The landscape of the Underworld appears. Two warriors, Jacob clad in white, the computer-simulated Immanuel in black, approach the molten metallic lake and alabaster white tree.
‘The calabash tree is a living conduit of the nexus. The Abomination is using it to hold our father in a sort of suspended animation. The tree glows white because of his aura in the Underworld.
‘The warrior in black representing you is a VR drone, programmed to respond in a set pattern of combat moves. What it can’t do is think and react like a Hunahpu warrior. Keep that in mind.’
Jacob points to the twins, who are hurrying toward the lake. ‘The Abomination can sense us while we’re in the nexus, which is why we remain in the third dimension as long as possible.’
Immanuel stares at the lake. Ripples appear, signaling the emergence of the alien being from the silvery ooze.
‘The alien is a spiritual demon-a sentry, posted to guard our father. The silicon skin gives it form and substance in the physical dimension. Its most deadly feature is its claws, which release a fast-acting toxin. Our Hunahpu genetics can fight the poison in small doses, but anything more than a severe scratch would be fatal.’
‘Lovely.’
A brilliant explosion of emerald green light ignites across the horizon.
‘Computer, pause.’
The on-screen image freezes as the two warriors sprint toward the alabaster-goo tree.
‘We’ve just entered the nexus. What follows will play at less than 3 percent of its actual speed.’
‘Three percent? I can’t move that fast.’
Jacob flashes a grin. ‘Not yet. Computer, resume play at nexus speed.’
The scene continues, frame by grainy frame. The twin in white is almost flying around the lake, his feet barely touching the shoreline. He reaches the tree at the same time as the demon sentry. Drawing what appears to be a sword, Jacob lashes out at the frightening creature, keeping it at bay.
With each stroke the blade glows a deeper shade of blue.
‘Lasers and guns do not work in the nexus. The sword is made of a nanofabricated alloy steel. With each movement, the macromolecular motors within the blade expand and heat the edge, threatening to cut through the demon sentry’s silicon outer skin. The blood bleeds blue without hemoglobin, because there is no oxygen on Xibalba, only CO2.’
The warrior in white is a whirlwind of movement, slashing and parrying, stabbing and retreating, barely able to keep out of the larger sentry’s superior reach.
Immanuel shakes his head. ‘How can you keep that up? I would have collapsed long ago.’
‘Training. Now watch carefully.’
The black-clad warrior representing Immanuel has reached the tree. As he attempts to free the drone representing their father, the demon sentry suddenly lunges toward the trunk, attempting to strike the virtual-reality Immanuel with its left claw.
But Jacob is too quick. Having clearly anticipated the move, he dives forward, slamming his now-flaming sword down and through the alien’s right arm, severing it at the elbow joint – as the black-clad warrior lashes outward with his own sword, decapitating the stunned sentry with one powerful blow.
The monstrous skull thuds against the rocky surface, its headless body following suit.
‘Yes!’ Manny is on his feet, barely able to catch his breath. ‘We won… right?’
Jacob shakes his head. Points.
The drone representing Michael Gabriel is lying against the simmering remains of the calabash tree, blue blood streaming profusely from his abdomen.
‘Computer, rewind six hundred frames and pause.’
The image returns to the demon sentry’s lunge toward the tree. ‘Watch closely. His left claw is the decoy. Ignore it and focus on the right. Computer, resume at 1 percent nexus speed.’
Immanuel watches the demon’s left arm, which is partially hidden below its lunging body. Even at greatly reduced speed the limb is just a blur as it extends toward the Michael Gabriel drone, which is morphing out from the trunk of the dripping white tree.
Two of the sentry’s scalpel-sharp clawed fingers puncture Mick through his abdomen and out his spine before the appendage retracts in an attempt to parry Jacob’s blow.
‘Jesus, it… it butchered him.’
Jacob nods. ‘We can win, but it’ll take both of us to do it. We have a long day tomorrow, try to get some sleep.’
‘Sleep? You honestly expect me to sleep after seeing that?’
‘If you can’t sleep, ask the computer for a green tea sedative.’ Jacob exits through the open shoji, then turns. ‘Tomorrow is a big day, Manny. We need to bring you back to our chosen path.’
Immanuel Gabriel lies back on the uncomfortably hard bed, staring at the ceiling.
Maybe it’s your chosen path, bro, but it’s not mine.
Geology Lab, University of Miami,
Coral Gables, Florida
Lauren Beckmeyer is in Bill Gabeheart’s office, her bare feet propped on his desk. She has been in the lab over two hours, waiting for the lab’s computer to complete a data search to confirm information downloaded earlier from Yellowstone Park is identical to data received in the past.
ANALYSIS COMPLETE. REPEATING DATA FOUND BETWEEN YELLOWSTONE CALDERA READINGS OF 16 A PRIL 2030 AND 19 NOVEMBER 2033.
‘Repeating data? Computer, how close in similarity are the two readings?’
NO VARIANCE FOUND. DATA IS IDENTICAL.
Gabeheart was right. Those Fed bastards are hiding something. She types in Gabeheart’s access code on her laptop.
The professor’s prerecorded image flashes on screen. ‘Hi. Sorry to disappoint you but this isn’t me. Since I’m probably outside watching Old Faithful, feel free to leave me a message.’
‘Doc, it’s Lauren. I found something. Contact me the moment you-’
The recorded image disappears, replaced by that of Paxton J. Walther, Bill Gabeheart’s regional coordinator at Yellowstone. ‘Ms. Beckmeyer?’
‘Yes, sir.’ What’s he doing on Gabeheart’s private comm link? ‘Sir, where’s Professor Gabeheart? I need to speak with him.’
Paxton shakes his head sadly. ‘I’m so sorry-’
Lauren’s muscles contract in fear.
‘-there’s been an accident. Bill… he died earlier this morning.’