Jacob takes his arm, leading him down a long subterranean corridor. They stop at a steel door guarded by two heavily armed soldiers.
‘Morning, sir.’
‘I want to show my brother GOLDEN FLEECE.’
The guards look at Immanuel, then at each other, unsure. The guard on the left says, ‘Sir, your, uh, your brother doesn’t have clearance.’
‘Contact Dr. Mohr. He’ll approve it.’
‘Forget it, Jake,’ Manny says. ‘Whatever it is, I’ll see it another-’
‘Contact Mohr. Now, please.’
The guard activates his comm link. ‘Excuse me, Dr. Mohr, but Jacob insists we allow his brother inside to see GOLDEN FLEECE.’
‘Request denied. Escort Jacob and his guest to my office immediately.’
The guard looks at Jacob. ‘Sorry, kid.’
In a blur of movement, Jacob lashes out with two vicious karate chops, striking each guard along the carotid artery.
The unconscious men slump to the floor.
‘Damn, Jake, you trying to kill them?’
‘They’ll be fine. Come on.’ He presses his palm to an identification pad.
The heavy steel door swings open.
Jacob grabs his protesting twin by the arm, leading him inside.
‘Yo, man, that was not cool. This is NASA. I don’t need trouble with the PCAA.’
‘Thirty seconds.’ Jacob pulls him down a short recess leading into an immense facility. ‘Just take a quick peek at what’s inside, then I’ll leave you alone for another six years.’
‘That’s not what I’m… oh… oh… shit.’
They are standing at the entrance to a mammoth factory, twenty storeys high, as wide and as long as six football fields. But it is the object at the center of the facility that causes Immanuel Gabriel’s heart to race, his muscles to turn to jelly.
It is an enormous spacecraft, 722 feet long, its dagger-shaped, warship-sized hull composed of shimmering, mirrorlike gold panels. The monstrous keel is situated twenty feet off the ground, resting on a series of rubber- tipped concrete-and-steel racks.
Manny sucks in slow breaths, forcing himself not to hyperventilate. No way… this isn’t real. It can’t be -
The forward two-thirds of the starship’s ‘blade’ morphs into the rear one-third ‘hilt,’ where two colossal assemblies are mounted along either side of the vessel’s tail section, each bulbous structure as large and as high as a three-storey building. Several technicians in white suits are working inside the alien engine, their lights revealing a wasp’s nest of charred, afterburner-shaped housings, each orifice no less than thirty feet in diameter.
‘This is the Balam, the starship the Guardian piloted to Earth 65 million years ago. Balam was a Mayan deity, represented by the jaguar, who protected the community against external threats. The vessel was excavated years ago from a subterranean chamber in Chichen Itza. The great teacher, Kukulcan, who was in fact the last of the Guardian survivors, instructed the Maya to erect his pyramid over the site-’
Immanuel feels the room spinning.
‘-and the ship is also armed with an ion cannon. Our father used the weapon to defeat Tezcatilpoca on the winter solstice of 2012.’
Immanuel drops to a knee, his lungs struggling for breath. He lies back on the cold concrete surface, staring up at the ceiling, which seems a mile away. God, please, this can’t be real…
‘Manny?’
Immanuel squeezes his eyes shut. Come on, Mule, wake up, just wake the hell up -
Jacob drags him onto his feet. ‘Now don’t go schizoid on me, bro. Our deeply depressed mother wouldn’t like that.’
‘Jake… I can’t do this… I’m not ready-’
‘Yes you are. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.’ Jacob puts his arm around Immanuel’s waist, steadying him as he leads him toward a small gantry rising halfway up the port side of the starship. He lowers his voice. ‘The reason the government invested so much money into my so-called dementia is this ship. They don’t give a rat’s ass about Xibalba or the Mayan prophecies. Project GOLDEN FLEECE is all about reverse engineering this starship to see how it draws energy from our planet and deep space.’
‘No… this isn’t real-’
‘We were kids when NASA finally excavated this vessel and transported it, quite covertly, to Kennedy. Problem was, they had no way of accessing it-at least until I came along.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The Guardian designed the entries into the ship with a genetic code. You and I are the only ones capable of entering and commandeering the vessel. NASA was forced to give me carte blanche in exchange for my cooperation.’
They reach the gantry and board a small open lift. The elevator rises five stories to a gold panel marked with a three-pronged alien candelabra, the insignia glowing crimson red.
‘The Trident of Paracas,’ Manny whispers. ‘I remember this from Julius’s journal.’
‘The sign of the Guardian.’ Jacob points to an eight-foot-high access plate. ‘Go ahead, close your eyes and command the entry to open.’
‘How?’
‘Just imagine the panel opening.’
Immanuel closes his eyes. Concentrates.
Nothing happens.
‘Concentrate!’
‘I am, asshole!’
‘Here, watch.’ Jacob closes his eyes. A second later, the panel retracts with a gush of compressed air, revealing a passageway.
‘You’ll get better with practice. Come on.’ Jacob leads his twin inside.
The interior is dark and warm, the corridor’s arched ceiling rising a good thirty feet above their heads. The curved walls are barren and smooth, composed of a highly polished, translucent black polymer. Behind the tinted glasslike surface Manny can make out elaborate circuits and machinery.
‘The ship is divided into different levels. We’re on the upper forward section, heading toward the bridge. These curved walls are actually interface panels linked to a central command computer, which in turn, responds to the frequency of our Hunahpu thought-energy patterns.’
‘Does this thing have a bathroom?’
Jacob smiles. ‘It has everything. But here’s the most amazing thing-this ship is not just a spacecraft, it’s sort of a living composite machine-organism.’
‘A what?’
‘It’s artificial intelligence. At the center of the ship is its brain-a crystalline biological organ situated in a fishbowl the size of a truck. Running out of the brain stem are billions of microcircuits and exotic metal conduits that feed like blood vessels throughout every square inch of the ship. This ship not only reads my thoughts, at times I think it talks back to me.’
‘The Guardian created all this?’
‘No. The ship was made available to them, by who or what I have no idea.’
The end of the corridor opens into a massive, onion-shaped control chamber. Rounded walls radiate a faint electric blue. At the very center of the cathedral-style, domed ceiling is a five-foot-wide passage, which rises straight up like a chimney.
‘Is this vessel… operational? Jake?’
Jacob is standing at the center of the room, his eyes closed.
A pencil-thin blue laser light blinks on above his head, its beam kissing his white hair.
Manny jumps back as the chamber instantly powers to life. Blue LED lights illuminate from behind the tinted
