Steve Alten - The Mayan Resurrection

You go to Hell, Jacob Gabriel! You go straight to Hell!

Lilith The sudden emptiness of the nexus closes in upon him.

Hell. Exactly where I’m headed.

Father, I need you!

I’m here, Jacob. Tell me what’s wrong?

I feel so lost. Manny’s still not Hunahpu, at least he’s not like me.

Give him time.

I don’t know. He wants a normal life.

In the end, Manny will fulfill his destiny.

He hates his calling, he just wants to live his life. He wants to be in love.

What did you tell him?

I told him love is a distraction, that it makes men weak. You don’t agree?

Jacob, love is the most powerful force in the universe. The love I feel for your mother has kept me from giving in. It was your love for me that reached out and saved me.

You’re far from saved. When Immanuel and I find you and rescue you, then you’ll be saved. Until then, I don’t have time for the nonsense of love. At least not now.

You found a girl, didn’t you? Someone special.

Yes.

And you love her?

Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about her.

I was the same way with your mother. At times, my love for her seemed to consume my every waking moment.

Exactly why I had to break it off. She was disfocusing me, interfering with my training.

Jacob Why prolong the hurt? In six years, I’m out of here, right? You of all people should understand why I did what I did. After all you’ve told me about the loop in space-time, about our failure during our first attempt Maybe I was wrong to allow this communication.

You’re preparing me for what lies ahead.

Or condemning you to it. If it was only my existence at stake, I would have given in long ago, I would never have allowed you to speak with me.

It’s okay.

It’s not okay! It infuriates me! Why must my family suffer so? Why must my sons and their mother have to go through this hell?

Dad, calm down… the Abomination might register your anger.

Let it, let God feel it, too! Do you hear me, God? I know you’re out there listening. What kind of God allows good people to suffer so? Why does evil often go unpunished? Where’s the justice in your universe?

Dad I hate you, God! Do you hear me? I hate you as much as I hate myself!

Jesus, Dad, you’re scaring me! Dad?

Dad?

I’m… I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m sorry for everything. If I had been stronger… if I’d been wiser, I would never have allowed the Guardian to manipulate and deceive me the way they did.

What? The Guardian deceived you? What did they do?! Father, tell me, I need to know.

I’m sorry… it’s so hard to focus through the rage. It blinds me… scatters my thoughts.

Then take it slow. Go back to your journey, to Bill Raby’s journey. That was his name, right? The space traveler who had escaped the coming holocaust.

Bill Raby… yes… yes, I had become Bill Raby.

And the transport. Tell me what happened after you crash-landed on Xibalba.

I remember now. I remember thinking I must’ve blacked out, because when I awoke, the cabin was pitch-dark and people were screaming.

Why were they screaming?

Our landing… the impact caused a flash fire. It must’ve been a bad one. A dozen colonists were dead, dozens more injured.

But you were okay?

No, I don’t think so. Something had happened, but not to Bill, to Michael Gabriel. All my thoughts, all of my memories as Michael were gone. From that point on, I was Bill Raby, marine geneticist, marooned on an alien world. It was as if Mick had never existed.

Okay, okay, so what happened then? Try to remember.

We were surrounded by darkness, still fumbling within the powerless cabin, when we heard scratching sounds outside the ship. Pressing my face to the viewport, I scanned the terrain, looking for the source.

The sun had set hours ago. Unable to see through the darkness, I located a pair of night-vision scanners and placed them over my eyes. The lenses cut through the night, turning everything olive green… revealing movement outside.

There were billions of them-huge beetles-a foot and a half in length, maybe twenty to forty pounds, God only knows what the gravity was like on this desolate world. They were scurrying up through the volcanic fissures by the hundreds of thousands, their grotesque black shell-encased bodies marked by occasional flashes of luminescence that set off the night like tiny strobe lights. My first thought after I swallowed back the bile of terror was communication… that the lights were a form of alien language, sort of like the fireflies back on Earth, only far more intelligent. But as they piled upon one another, rising up the viewport glass to test its thickness with their tripod-shaped horns and sickle claws, I knew these beings were more like the horrible hordes of army ants that devastate Africa, the ones that operate as a single collective, stripping away the flesh and bones and vegetation of everything that stands in their path.

We watched, helpless and frightened, as they scampered over the moss-covered terrain in ebony waves. They covered the ship, and for several terrifying hours, all of us feared they might eat through the steel plates.

After a tense night, the first rays of dawn sent them fleeing back to their underground dwellings.

When it became apparent that the swarm would not venture into the daylight, our shuttle leaders organized an exploratory team. Several men approached and asked me to join them outside.

Forty minutes later, a dozen of us, all dressed in space suits, stepped out from the shuttle’s airlock to join leaders and scientists from the other eleven vessels. Armed with measuring devices, we probed the land and air.

The more we learned, the more fearful we became.

The planet’s atmosphere contained high levels of carbon dioxide, along with smaller amounts of carbon monoxide, methane, and ammonia. Like Mars, the scarlet sky was devoid of an ozone layer, but unlike the Red Planet back in our end of the galaxy, there was no shelter on this desolate world other than our broken vessels, and no raw materials to access to gain a foothold.

After three hours, our teams returned to our respective vessels, the reality of our situation too overwhelming to bear. We were marooned on a world lacking fresh water, vegetation, and breathable air. There was no ozone layer to protect us from the alien sun’s ultraviolet rays, and in five months, our ship’s supplies would run out… assuming the nocturnal scavengers did not devour us first.

Two million years ago, our ancestors had managed to survive their own harsh beginnings in the jungles of East Africa. The first humans had migrated into new lands and faced life-threatening challenges. They had sought shelter in caves, and crafted tools to hunt with. They had learned how to harness fire and to farm, and had built thriving civilizations. Ever the explorer, man had eventually constructed great vessels, crossing dangerous oceans in order to satisfy both his need to improve his lot in life and his inquisitiveness.

And now, in a sense, so had we.

As Michael Gabriel, I had once remote-viewed a member of Christopher Columbus’s crew. Sharing Bill Raby’s consciousness, I could finally experience what these brave explorers must have felt as their voyage across the Atlantic grew more desperate.

The hopelessness.

The fear.

The constant bickering.

Twelve Earth ships had crash-landed in a toxic environment. Twelve ships possessing a limited supply of air, food, and water.

Twelve ships. Six hundred-plus opinions.

Long before we had launched from Earth, Mars Colony and its ten thousand chosen inhabitants had been preorganized into five districts. We had appointed representatives and even a newly elected president. The multiple party system had been tabled for the moment, but democracy would rule the Red Planet just as it had shaped America, with a new Constitution and a Bill of Rights.