Read The Mayan Resurrection Online
Authors: Steve Alten
In one motion, I was back on my feet, pushing through invisible waves of resistance, as if the air itself had become gelid. T’quan barely seemed to react. I followed his eyes as they slowly drifted down to me, his pierced brows raising in disbelief. Quickly, I dashed behind him, then, with all my might, I kicked the old Mayan in the small of his bony back.
It must have been a mighty blow through that thickened air, for he flew forward in slow motion, rising as if gravity had abandoned him. And then he fell, his limbs flapping uselessly as his body dropped silently into the waters below.
Serves him right. What happened then?
A burning sensation ravaged my gut. I fell to my knees and shook my head violently—and the sounds of the woods returned. For several moments, I lay on the ground, my muscles drenched in lactic acid, twitching in recovery until splashing sounds drew me to the edge of the hole.
The old man was struggling to stay afloat, his gaunt figure hopelessly entangled in his soaked cloth cape.
I stood and watched my would-be killer … watched as he sank beneath the surface. When the air bubbles ceased, I climbed in his taxi and drove out of the jungle, back to Pistè.
I had never driven a car before. I could barely reach the pedals, yet it seemed perfectly natural. An hour later, I returned to the old man’s home with my parents and the police, who dredged T’quan’s corpse from the sinkhole’s muddy bottom—along with the remains of no less than a dozen other children the old man had murdered over the years.
That was my first encounter with evil and the powers that we possess, Jacob, but it wouldn’t be my last.
I need to know more about evil. Where does it come from? How did it start?
That, my son, is a question your grandfather, Julius, pondered until his dying day. Is evil something genetically programmed into our species, or is it a learned behavior? Is it spiritual in nature, perhaps the Yin to the soul’s Yang. Or is it a disease that infects the mind? T’quan had a look in his eyes when he came after me, one that I’ll never forget. It was as if the old man’s soul had vacated the body and separated
itself from the collective warmth of our species. Julius called the man a godless reptile, and for a long time I agreed with him, until the night I witnessed my own father straddling my mother’s body, suffocating her with a pillow.
Julius murdered Grandma?
He claimed it was euthanasia, but in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, it was murder. Looking back on it now, I realize just how much Julius loved my mother, how hard it was to do what he did. She was in so much pain from the cancer, she begged him for mercy, and he gave it to her. At the same time, I also realize how evil is created, because from that moment on, I hated Julius for what he had done, and I allowed my anger to fester, until it finally exploded backstage as I held my dead father in my arms and went after Pierre Borgia.
When you were in solitary for so long
—
how were you able to keep from … you know, from going insane?
For a while, I thought I had gone insane. Then, during my eighth month, I drifted into a semilucid state, for all intents and purposes, an out-of-body experience.
I don’t understand?
Nor did I at the time. It was my Hunahpu DNA. The gene was somehow programming my mind to take a visual reconnaissance into humanity’s past. My first journey deposited my consciousness on a Mediterranean shoreline, somewhere in the Middle East. From out of the sea strode a large humanoid male, his appearance bordering on the bizarre. His skin was as dark as cocoa, in sharp contrast to his long silky hair and beard, which were snow-white. His eyes were a
deep azure-blue, set within an almost inhumanly elongated skull.
I would learn his name was Osiris.
But this was all just a dream?
No, son, it was quite real. I was remote-viewing an actual event that had taken place ten thousand years in the past. In my transcendental state, my consciousness had tapped into a matrix of energy, similar to what you and I are experiencing. Because the events had taken place in the past, I was able to witness the events as if I were there, as if I were one of Osiris’s nomad followers. Osiris turned my people into a functioning society. He directed us to dam the Nile delta, forming an artificial lake. He taught us how to cut immense ten-ton stones from basalt quarries. I marveled as he used his scepter-like device to lift the blocks onto barges, transmitting strange sonic harmonics that seemed to reverse the effects of gravity. More than two million stones were moved in this manner, transported through the pre-flooded valley until they were placed into position, using the surface of the lake as a perfect plane of reference.
Osiris was engineering three of the largest structural foundations in the world—the bases of the Great Pyramids of Giza, and somehow I had become one of his laborers!
Viewing those experiences is ultimately what preserved my mind. For while my body was confined to that dark, decrepit cell, my consciousness was free to roam.
As the years drifted by, my mind accompanied more of the wise men on their journeys. In England, I was part of a sect that followed the teachings of an extraterrestrial who told
us his name was Merlin. This ‘wizard’ used his own stafflike device to help us transport the great sarsens that were used to erect Stonehenge. In South America, another wise man—Virococha—used a similar device to carve immense patterns into the Nazca plateau—the very zoomorphs whose meaning had eluded my father and me for decades.
What I didn’t know at the time was that these wise men with their elongated skulls, majestic blue eyes, and white hair and beards were actually members of the Guardian. Attuned to their signal line through my own Hunahpu genetics, I was being prepared.
Prepared for what?
Four
Ahau
,
three
Kankin
—
the winter solstice of 2012—humanity’s day of doom, prophesied in the Mayan calendar. I realized that wallowing in my emotions was doing me no good. I had to focus. I had to stay strong. My life served a greater purpose. If a holocaust was truly coming, then I knew I had to stop it.
My cell became a war room. A regimen was established, combining rigorous exercise, meditation, and remote-viewing sessions. Pieces of an ancient puzzle began falling into place. There was a means to our salvation—I just had to find it.
But first, I had to escape.
Sometime during my last year in isolation, the state of Massachusetts determined that the antiquated facility I called Hell would close down. Pierre Borgia, by then U.S. secretary of state, immediately arranged for Dr. Foletta, my personal keeper, to transfer himself and me to an asylum in Miami.
It was the summer of 2012.
The rules at the Miami facility were different, each inmate assigned a team. No longer able to exert his autocratic rule, Dr. Foletta needed someone on the staff he could manipulate into signing off on my yearly evaluation. His pawn would arrive a week later in the guise of a graduate student.
My mother?
Yes. She was so beautiful, so enticing … consuming all my thoughts, disfocusing me from the mission at hand. I tried to quell my love for her, but as the doomsday drew nearer, our souls touched. Then, in her most difficult hour, your mother sacrificed everything she held dear and helped me escape.
Together we discovered the
Balam
,
a starship buried long ago beneath the Kukulcán Pyramid. Within this vessel we found the remains of Kukulcán, the last survivor of a more advanced humanoid race called the Guardian. The Guardian had come to our planet long ago, fleeing the rise of evil that had enslaved their people, transforming their world into a hellish existence. The Guardian had avoided enslavement by taking refuge on one of their planet’s moons. But the evil ones were not satisfied with their conquest. Inhabiting their planet was an alien serpentine creature that could bridge the gap between dimensions of time and space. Trapping the creature aboard a transport ship, they sent it into space and through a wormhole. Members of the Guardian brotherhood chased after the transport in the
Balam
.
Their vessel’s presence in the wormhole altered the wormhole’s trajectory … depositing both ships in our solar system, 65 million years into Earth’s past. This historic journey not only
resulted in a cataclysm that wiped out the dinosaurs, it created a causal time loop in third-dimensional space.
Most of the transport was destroyed upon impact, but the life-support pod containing the creature remained intact.
Knowing a deep-space radio transmission could awaken the creature, the Guardian programmed the
Balam
to remain in orbit above Earth. The ship would deflect any incoming signals while the Guardian remained immersed in sleep pods. Sometime around 11,000
B.C.
, the
Balam
landed in the dense jungles of the Yucatán Peninsula, not far from where their enemy lay buried beneath the Gulf of Mexico.
It was about this time that the great flood caused by the last ice age thawed, and
Homo sapiens
became the dominant species on the planet.
The Guardian had a two-phased plan for humanity. Awakening in intervals, each member was assigned the task of erecting an electromagnetic relay station at key points around the globe. When completed, this astrogeodetic array would link with the
Balam
,
creating an electromagnetic grid around the entire planet. The grid would prevent the creature from using its weapons to alter our planet’s atmosphere for its carbon-dioxide-breathing masters. Each Guardian had the challenge of camouflaging his relay station so that the array’s relay stations would remain undisturbed over thousands of years. Their solution was to bury the antennae beneath monolithic structures so magnificent in size and structure that they would forever remain undisturbed by modern man.
Great civilizations came into being, and with them rose
the Pyramids of Giza and Stonehenge, the Pyramid of the Sun, and the Temples of Angkor Wat.
One of the last of the brotherhood to be revived was Kukulcán. Under his tutelage, the Mayans rose to power and the Kukulcán Pyramid was built—directly above the burial site of the
Balam
.
All that was needed was someone to activate the device in the year 2012.
This was the second phase of the Guardian’s plan. Each member of the brotherhood would not only instruct his people, but spread his genetic seed using our women. By mixing the Guardian’s superior DNA with
Homo sapiens
DNA, our species genetically leapfrogged up the evolutionary ladder.
The Guardian’s DNA is the so-called missing link?
Yes. But the Guardian were capable of much more than simply siring a new subspecies, they could also manipulate their DNA so that genetic anomalies like them would reach maturation around the time of the predicted day of reckoning. They called these superior beings the
Hunahpu
.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I carried the Hunahpu gene, passed down to me from my maternal ancestors. By activating the
Balam
’s array, I not only prevented the creature from using its weapons, I also stopped an all-out nuclear war between the superpowers.
Days later, the alien creature ascended from the Gulf, intent on destroying the
Balam
’s electromagnetic array. I was waiting in Chichén Itzá to meet it. Tapping into my newly discovered Hunaphu powers, I was able to access the
Balam
’s weapon, which deactivated the cybernetic beast.
But you entered the creature’s mouth? Why?
To prevent the Under Lords of
Xibalba
from arriving on Earth. The creature had succeeded in shunting the
Balam
’s array, opening a corridor of the nexus that bridged the gap between Earth and the
Xibalban
Underworld. Inside this corridor were two demons, disguised as my mother and Dominique. Having been warned about the deception by the Guardian, I killed both of those evil souls, completing my mission.
Or so I thought.
The Guardian offered me a choice. I could live out my days as Michael Gabriel or continue to evolve as One Hunahpu and journey to
Xibalba
to save the lost souls of the
Nephilim
.
Who are the Nephilim
?
The Fallen Ones, human souls who were being tortured on
Xibalba
.
I had remote-viewed their terror. Thousands of men, women, and children—all suffering at the hands of their oppressors. As Michael Gabriel, I could have ignored them, but as One Hunahpu, I realized I was their only hope.