The Mayan Resurrection (11 page)

They enter the secured building and follow an interior corridor to the main gym. The grunts and groans of young children can be heard within.

Dominique pushes open the door.

The three-year-old Gabriel twins are dressed in white karate outfits with black pants. White-haired, blue-eyed Jacob wears a black belt, his dark-eyed, ebony-headed brother sporting a green
obi
.

The cameras are rolling as Master Gustafu Pope places a two-inch concrete slab across the top of two cinder blocks. ‘Okay, Jacob, remember, focus your mind. Move into the moment and harness your inner strength.’

The white-haired three-year-old steps up to the slab and takes a forward stance, his weight displaced perfectly over his bent left knee, his right arm slightly bent as it arcs slowly overhead, practicing the breaking movement. The blade of his right hand comes to rest at the center of the top slab.

‘Permission to break, sir?’

‘Permission granted.’

Barbara Walters and her crew watch in amazement as the small boy closes his eyes and meditates, his shallow breaths growing gradually into a low growl as he gathers strength, his right arm continuing its downward practice swings over and over, pressing the concrete heavier with each successive strike.

Suddenly, the blue eyes flash open, the boy’s face a mask of rage. With a tremendous, ‘ki-yahhh!’ he slams his open knife hand against the slab, the impact of his slender right wrist striking the concrete like a bullet hitting glass.

The slab collapses to the protective mat, the concrete split in half.

The crew applauds wildly.

The boy doesn’t so much as smile. He bows to his instructor, then takes his place next to his brother.

Master Pope turns to the dark-haired twin. ‘Immanuel.’

The dark-eyed boy ignores him, too engrossed in playing with his toes.

‘Immanuel, join me please.’

The boy rolls over and stands, then bunny-hops over to his instructor.

‘Manny, these nice people want to see how well you can break a board. Do you want to show them?’

The boy runs to his mother, hugging her legs.

Dominique picks him up. ‘Sorry, he’s a little shy.’

Barbara strokes his hair. ‘He’s so cute, but so much different than his brother. Jacob seems so mature, I mean, I know he’s only three, but—’

‘The Hunahpu gene is dominant in Jake, recessive in his brother. At times, Jake possesses the awareness of an adult.’

‘Can I meet him?’

‘Sure. Master Pope?’

Master Pope signals Jacob to stand. Student and teacher bow to one another, then the white-haired boy hustles over to his mother.

‘Jake, this is Barbara.’

‘Hi.’

‘Hello. Would you mind if I ask you and your brother some questions?’

‘Okay.’

‘How were you able to break that thick slab of concrete with your tiny hand?’

The boy points to a bone along the outside of his right wrist. ‘We strike this bone over and over until it calcifies and the nerves deaden. Then we learn to focus.’

‘Wow. You sound so grown-up for a three-year-old.’

Jacob shrugs.

‘Tell us what else you can do.’

‘I like to swim.’

‘How far can you swim?’

‘I do a mile in the pool every morning before breakfast.’

Barbara’s jaw drops. ‘A mile?’

‘I can swim, too,’ chimes in Manny.

‘You can? And how far do you swim?’

Manny buries his face against his mother’s chest.

Dominique strokes the boy’s jet-black hair. ‘Manny can swim ten laps in the pool, can’t you, Manny?’

‘I like to read,’ Jacob says, his bright blue eyes blazing.

‘You can read? That’s wonderful,’ says Barbara. ‘What do you like to read? Do you read
Sesame Street
books?’

Jacob giggles. ‘That’s for babies.’

Barbara looks up at Dominique. ‘What does he read?’

‘He just finished
Huckleberry Finn
. But he downloads a lot off the Internet.’

‘Amazing.’

They are back in the living room, shooting the last segment of the taped interview. The boys are outside, playing in the fifty-meter pool under the watchful eyes of Salt and Pepper.

‘Dominique, what’s Jacob’s IQ?’

She smiles uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know. I’m told it’s off the conventional scale. Manny’s is high, too—’

‘But nothing like his brother’s?’

‘No.’

‘What do you tell Jacob when he asks about his father?’

‘I tell him his father’s with the angels.’

‘While you were tending to Manny, I asked Jacob about his father. Do you know what he said?’

‘No.’ Dominique’s heart pounds in her chest.

‘He said his father’s in someplace called She-bal-ba. He also told me that one day, he and his brother are going to travel to this She-bal-ba, defeat the evil warlord, and rescue Mick.’

Dominique bites her lower lip. ‘He has quite an imagination, doesn’t he?’

‘This She-bal-ba, what is it?’

‘It’s nothing. Just some Mayan folklore. I hate putting parental controls on the Internet, but I guess I’ll have to.’

‘Dominique, this doesn’t sound like an Internet situation, it sounds like the Mayan studies the boys’ paternal grandparents spent their lives investigating. She-bal-ba? Evil warlords? I mean, this is serious stuff.’

‘You want to know what’s serious? In the last three months, there have been two attempts on the boys’ lives. In August, four members of the Aryan Nation made it up the beach in scuba gear, armed with Uzis and grenades. They came within one hundred yards of our home before security shot them. Then two weeks ago, a mob, incited by Peter Mabus and his radical regime, stormed the front gates using seven military
vehicles and a trailer packed with explosives. Seven people died, including two American soldiers assigned to guard the compound.’

Dominique turns to face the camera. ‘I’m a single mother, trying her best to raise two wonderful boys in a loving environment. I’d give anything for them to lead normal lives, but those weren’t the cards we were dealt. Ennis Chaney’s leadership helped save the world, he supported Mick when few others did. The president is a stable hand at the helm during these rocky times, exactly what we need. What we don’t need is a knee-jerk God-fearing reaction based on bully boy tactics. Elect a fanatical monster like Peter Mabus, and America no longer becomes a melting pot of liberty, it becomes a haven for the privileged few, a nation as close-minded as those Muslim-dominated countries we’ve been conditioned to hate over the years.’

Jacob stands next to his mother. He holds her hand, staring into the camera.

‘Please don’t vote for Peter Mabus. He wants to kill my family.’

Three-year-old Lilith Eve Robinson stands next to the television set, staring into the white-haired boy’s brilliant eyes. ‘Grandpa Quenton, look! He has pretty blue eyes just like me.’

The minister drains the rest of his gin as he thumbs through his monthly bills. ‘How many times I got to tell you, child? Turn that goddam television off and get to bed!’

‘Yes, sir.’

Lilith powers off the set using the remote, then crawls onto the sofa, pulling the wool blanket over her head.

Quenton tosses the empty liquor bottle into the kitchen trash. ‘I’m goin’ out. Don’t you even think’a movin’ your ass offa that couch or I’ll whup it good.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The minister staggers out the front door, slamming it close behind him.

Lilith listens. Waits until the car pulls out the driveway, then turns the television back on. The interview is over, the older woman back at her desk, talking to a colleague.

At the bottom of the screen is the
20/20
e-mail address.

Lilith commits it to memory, shuts off the television, then climbs onto her foster grandfather’s chair and boots his computer. She signs onto the Internet, and types in
20/20
’s address.

JANUARY 17, 2016: CAPITOL HILL, WASHINGTON, DC

President Reelect Ennis Chaney climbs up to the dais, shakes hands with the Speaker of the House and Vice President Marion Rallo, the first woman ever to hold an executive office, then turns to face the applauding members of Congress and the American people.

‘Thank you. Mr. Speaker, Vice President Rallo, members of Congress, distinguished guests, fellow citizens. “The cause of America is, in a great measure, the cause of all mankind. Many circumstances have, and will arise, which are not local, but universal, and through which the principles of all Lovers of Mankind are affected… . Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worse state, an intolerable one, for when we suffer, or are exposed to the same miseries
by a government
which we might expect in a country
without government
, our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furnished the means by which we suffer.”’

Chaney looks up from his notes. ‘These words were first recorded in Philadelphia on February 14, 1776, by Thomas Paine in his persuasive document,
Common Sense
, in which he tried to address the fear of change, exhorting the American colonists to break from England. Like our patriot forefathers, we find ourselves facing similar fears, fears that also began with an act of war. The events of September 11, 2001, took us on a perilous journey, a journey we had to make, and yet our best intentions led us to the brink of Hell. From a world united against terrorism we nearly ended as a species divided by globalism, and paranoia, and greed. Our leaders asked us to make sacrifices to protect our freedom, but in the end, it was freedom that we nearly lost.

‘Just as our forefathers did in 1776, we too stood at a crossroads in American history. On November 8, we could have allowed our fears to force us off the path of democracy. Instead, we rose up as one people, united before God, and stood against those who would challenge our Constitution. By doing so, we shall come out of this struggle stronger as a nation and as a species.’

Chaney pauses as Congress rises for a standing ovation.

‘For a decade, the world wallowed in the shadow of war; now we will lead the world, hand in hand, into the sunshine. Equality, education, and technology shall drive our economies, peace and prosperity our calling card to all nations. But before we can rise, we must first rid our country of the shackles that led us down the path of destruction. The first of those shackles is our continued addiction to fossil fuels. Our leaders applauded the promises of cleaner,
greener, renewable energy sources, but in the end they chose to keep our country addicted to OPEC because of their own personal investments in the oil industry. It is time to end this addiction once and for all. Our new task force on Energy and America’s Future has determined that there is now less than half a trillion barrels of proven and probable oil reserves left in the world, 75 percent of which are located in authoritarian-run countries. By 2025, the price of oil is expected to quadruple. By 2040, it will become prohibitive, precipitating a worldwide economic crisis. At the same time, third world industrialization is driving energy demands even higher, with needs escalating from our current usage of 15 trillion watts to over 40 trillion within only two decades. Meanwhile, we infect our environment with more acid rain, more air pollution, and an even bigger rise in greenhouse gases to melt what little’s left of the Arctic and Antarctic ice.’

Chaney’s deeply set eyes stare into the lens of the nearest camera. ‘In 2017 and beyond, our vision is clear: We’re Clean and Goin’ Green.’

Democrats stand and applaud, most members of Chaney’s Republican Party remaining seated.

‘The most promising solution to our energy crisis has and always will be solar. It’s unlimited and clean, but the cost has remained high because we’ve never committed our full resources to the technology. Decades ago, the federal government invested over $100 billion in nuclear research to jump-start that industry, not to mention the money used to subsidize businesses involved in the uranium fuel cycles. Now
we’re going to commit the same kind of resources to solar and wind power, as well as hydrogen fuel cells. To help pay for these changes, my new budget will eliminate the Strategic Defense Initiative, a failed and costly program that drove a wedge between the United States, China, and Russia and led to the nuclear assaults of 2012.’