Domain (9 page)

Did extraterrestrial blood flow through Noah’s body? The concept of “fallen” Angels, or “men of renown” interbreeding with human women may seem far-fetched, but there must be some element of truth to it, since the tale, like the story of Noah and the Great Flood, is repeated among different cultures and religions around the world.

As mentioned, I have spent a lifetime investigating mysterious wonders—magnificent structures left upon the face of this planet that have survived the ravages of time. I believe these structures were created by these “men of old, men of renown” for a single purpose—to save our species from annihilation.

We may never know who the Nephilim were, but geological evidence now allows us to reference the time frame in which they first appeared. The fact is—there was a great flood. Earth’s last ice age was the culprit, the event dating back some 115,000 years. At the time, massive glaciers covered most of the northern and southern hemispheres, advancing and retreating, eventually peaking some 17,000 years ago. Most of Europe was buried under an ice cap two miles thick. Glaciers in North America pushed as far south as the Mississippi Valley and down to the 37th parallel.

It was the time of Homo sapiens neanderthalensis, Neanderthal Man. It was also around this time in our ancestors’ history that the mysterious “fallen ones” arrived.

Perhaps the clans of early Homo sapiens did little to impress these men of renown. Perhaps the Nephilim felt it best that early man return to the evolutionary drawing board. Whatever their response, all we know is that miraculously, and quite suddenly, the world started melting.

It happened fast, triggered by some unknown, cataclysmic development. Millions of cubic miles of ice that had taken more than 40,000 years to advance suddenly melted in less than two millennia. The sea rose 300 to 400 feet, engulfing the land. Sections of Earth, once weighed down by billions of tons of ice, began rising, causing terrible earthquakes. Volcanoes erupted, spewing enormous amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, increasing global warming. Great tidal waves uprooted jungles, wiping out animals and devastating the land.

The planet became a very hostile place.

By 13,000 BC to 11,000 BC, most of the ice had melted, the climate stabilizing. And emerging from this muck and mire was a new subspecies, Homo sapiens sapiens—modern man.

Evolution or the Bible’s story of creation—wherein lies the truth of modern man’s rise? As a scientist, I am compelled to believe in Darwinism, but as an archaeologist, I also recognize that truth is often concealed within myths passed down over millennia. The prophecy foretold by the Mayan calendar falls into the same category. As mentioned earlier, the calendar is a precise scientific instrument that utilizes advanced principles of astronomy and mathematics to derive its calculations. At the same time, the calendar’s origins are centered around the most important legend in Mayan history—the Popol Vuh—the Mayan book of creation.

The Popol Vuh is the Bible of the Mesoamerican Indians. According to the Popol Vuh, written hundreds of years after Kukulcan’s passing the world was divided into an Overworld (heaven) a Middleworld (Earth), and an Underworld, a haven of evil known as Xibalba (pronounced She-bal-ba). As the ancient Maya looked to the night sky, they saw the dark rift of the Milky Way and interpreted it as being a dark serpent or Black Road (Xibalba Be) which led to the Underworld. Appearing in close proximity to the dark rift were the three belt stars of Orion. To the Maya, these stars were said to be the three stones of creation.

As mentioned earlier, the Mayan calendar is divided into five Great Cycles, the first of which began some 25,800 years ago. This is no arbitrary period of time, but the actual length in years that it takes Earth to compete one cycle of precession, the slow wobble of our planet on its axis. (More on this later.)

The creation story retold in the Popol Vuh begins some 25,800 years ago when ice still covered much of the Earth. The hero of the tale is a primitive man known as Hun (One) Hunahpu, later revered by the Maya as “First-Father.” Hun Hunahpu’s great passion in life was to play the ancient ball game known as Tlachtli. One day, the Lords of the Underworld, speaking through Xibalba Be (the Black Road), challenged Hun Hunahpu and his brother to a game. Hun Hunahpu accepted and entered the portal to the Black Road, which was represented in Mayan legends as the mouth of a great serpent.

But the Underworld lords had no intention of playing the game. Using trickery and deceit, they defeated the brothers and decapitated them, hanging Hun Hunahpu’s head in the crook of a calabash tree. The Evil Lords then set the tree aside, forbidding anyone to visit it.

After a great many years, a brave young woman named Blood Moon ventured down the Black Road to see if the legend was true. Approaching the tree to pick some fruits, she was startled to find Hun Hunahpu’s head, which spit into her palm, magically impregnating her. The woman fled, the Under Lords unable to destroy her before she could escape.

Blood Moon (also known as First-Mother) would give birth to twin sons. As the years passed, the boys grew into strong capable warriors. Upon reaching adulthood, their genetic calling would push them to make the journey down the Black Road to Xibalba to challenge the evil ones and avenge their father’s death. Once more, the Lords of the Underworld would use deceit, but this time, the Hero Twins would triumph, banishing evil while resurrecting their long-lost father.

What can we garner from the creation myth? The name, Hun or One Hunahpu, relates to the calendar name One Ahau, a day-sign meaning first sun. The first sun of the new year is the December solstice sun. The prophesied date of doom ends on the winter solstice in the year 2012—exactly one 25,800 year processional cycle from the very first day of the Mayan calendar!

Using a computer program that allows one to forecast the cosmos at any date in history, I have calculated the night sky as it will appear in 2012. Beginning at the time of the autumnal equinox, an extremely rare astronomical alignment will occur between the galactic and solar planes. The dark rift of the Milky Way will appear to sit on the Earth’s horizon, and the Sun will begin to move into alignment at its center point. This stellar shift will culminate on the day of the winter solstice, a day considered by most ancient cultures to be the Day of the Dead. On this date, for the first time in 25,800 years, the Sun will move in conjunction with the crossing point of the Milky Way and the ecliptic in Sagittarius, marking the alignment of the Galactic Equator, the exact center of the galaxy.

Somehow, the Mayan calendar accurately predicted this celestial event more than 3,000 years ago. Interpreting the creation myth, the galactic alignment will climax with the opening of a cosmic portal that bridges the gap between our planet and the Mayan Underworld, Xibalba.

Call it fiction, call it fact, but somehow this intergalactic alignment will culminate in the deaths of every man, woman, and child on the face of our planet.

—Excerpt from the Journal of Professor Julius Gabriel,

Ref. Catalogue 1978-79 pages 43-52 Catalogue 1998-99 pages 11-75.

Chapter 4

SEPTEMBER 11, 2012
MIAMI, FLORIDA

W
ake up, Intern Vazquez. You’re falling for Gabriel’s famous conspiracy theory.”

“I disagree.” Dominique returns Dr. Foletta’s cold stare from the opposite side of his desk. “There’s no reason that Mick Gabriel shouldn’t be assigned a full support team.”

Foletta leans back in the swivel chair, his weight threatening the coiled springs. “Now let’s just calm down for a moment. Look at you—you’ve spoken with the resident twice, and already you’re making diagnoses. In my opinion, you’re becoming emotionally involved, something we spoke about on Friday. This is exactly why I recommended to the board not to bring in a team at this time.”

“Sir, I assure you, I’m not emotionally involved. It just seems to me that people have rushed to judgment in this case. Yes, I agree he’s suffering from delusions, but they could easily be attributed to having spent the last eleven years in solitary. And as far as violence, there’s nothing that I’ve seen in Mick’s file which points to anything but a one-time case of simple assault.”

“What about the attack on the guard?”

“Mick told me the guard tried to rape him.”

Foletta pinches the bridge of his nose with two stubby fingers, grinning sheepishly as he shakes his great head back and forth. “He set you up, Intern Vazquez. I told you he’s clever.”

Dominique’s stomach flutters. “You’re saying it was all a lie?”

“Of course. He’s preying on your maternal instincts, and he hit a grand slam.”

Dominique stares at her lap, dumbfounded.
Was Mick lying
?
Was she really that gullible
?
Idiot
!
You wanted to believe him. You set yourself up
.

“Intern, you’re not going to get very far with your patients if you believe everything they tell you. Next thing, he’ll have you convinced the world is coming to an end.”

Dominique sits back in her chair, feeling foolish.

Foletta sees the expression on her face and laughs out loud, causing his plump cheeks to turn red and dimple. He takes a breath, wiping tears from his eyes as he reaches into a cardboard box at the foot of the desk. He removes a bottle of scotch and two coffee mugs, pouring them each a shot.

Dominique drains the cup, feeling the liquid sear its way through her stomach lining.

“Feeling better?” The words, whispered and grainy, are spoken in a fatherly manner.

She nods.

“Despite what he tells you, Intern, I happen to like Mick. I don’t want to see him in solitary confinement any more than you do.”

The phone rings. Foletta answers it, eyeing her. “It’s one of the security guards. Says he’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Shit
. “Could you tell him I’m tied up in an important meeting? Tell him I can’t make it tonight.”

Foletta relays the message, then hangs up.

“Doctor, what about Mick’s annual evaluation. Was that also a lie?”

“No, that was the truth; in fact it’s on my list of things to discuss with you. I know it’s a bit unusual, but I’ll need you to sign off on that.”

“What are you recommending?”

“That depends on you. If you can remain objective, then I’ll recommend that you stay on as his clinical psychiatrist during your stay here.”

“Mick’s suffering from sensory deprivation. I’d want him to have access to the yard, as well as the rest of our rehab facilities.”

“He just attacked you—”

“No he didn’t. He just got a little excited, and I panicked.”

Foletta leans back and stares at the ceiling as if weighing a great decision. “All right, Intern, here’s the deal. Sign off on my annual evaluation, and I’ll restore full privileges. If he improves, I’ll assign a full rehab team to Mick in January. Fair enough?”

Dominique smiles. “Fair enough.”

SEPTEMBER 22, 2012
MIAMI, FLORIDA

The yard at the South Florida Evaluation and Treatment Center is a rectangular stretch of lawn surrounded on all four sides. The L-shape of the main building encloses the perimeter to the east and south, the north and western borders walled off by a twenty-foot stark white concrete barrier topped with coils of barbed wire.

There are no doors in the yard. To exit the grass-covered atrium, one must ascend three flights of cement steps which lead to an open walkway running the length of the southern side of the facility. This mezzanine accesses the third-floor gymnasium, group-therapy rooms, an arts and crafts center, computer room, and a movie area.

Dominique takes cover beneath the aluminum roof extending out from the third-floor walkway as the lead gray clouds roll in from the east. Two dozen residents evacuate the yard as the first drops of afternoon rain splatter against the overhang.

A solitary figure remains behind.

Mick Gabriel continues walking along the perimeter of the yard, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He feels the humid air turn cool as the clouds open up overhead. Within seconds he is immersed in the downpour, his white uniform soaked, clinging to his wiry, muscular frame.

He continues walking, his soaked canvas tennis shoes sinking in the soft grass, the rainwater squishing between his toes and socks. With each step, he recites the name of another year of the Mayan calendar, a mental exercise that he uses to keep his mind sharp. Three
Ix
, four
Cauac
, five
Kan
, six
Muluc
…

The dark eyes focus on the concrete wall, seeking its flaws, his mind searching for options.

Dominique watches him through a veil of rain, feeling remorse.
You blew it. He trusted you. Now he thinks you betrayed him
.