Prospero
gazed at me from stern lids. “I can help you, Jack.
I’m your safety line. Throw in with me.”
“Throw
in with you—in what?”
“In
all things. I can give you what you want.”
“What
do I want?”
“Everything.
Everybody does. You can save yourself, Jack. And save
this world.”
He
sat back. “Do you see it?”
“I
don’t know what you expect me to see, no.”
“You’re
giving me a hard time on purpose. For now, all right,
have it your way, I don’t care.
But, I do expect you to at least view the night
sky without an argument.” He waved an arm overhead,
his face illumined by the stars.
A
light-studded sea stretched to the horizons. “Do you
see the Milky Way galaxy—all that blaze?
All that grandeur? Do you see that vast, dark cloud
that bisects it vertically like the frontal cleft of a
woman? That
is the core of the galaxy. Like the mystic core of a
woman. Things are born there, out of the
mystic center—life out of death.
The sun travels across that great sea in what is
called the ecliptic—from there,” he pointed, “to
over here, in a straight line through the twelve
constellations that are the zodiac.”
“Is
that what we’re talking about, my horoscope?”
“Yes
and no. It’s like the way you traveled here, drunk
through twelve states, and were finally saved and
reborn through your wife's love.
“Look
again, right there, Jack—the center of the galactic
core, near the constellation of the Centaur—in the
dark cleft. Something astonishing will happen there on
December 21st, theyear 2012, the night of the winter
solstice. Mayan Doomsday. Yet, another rebirth.
“The
sun will align perfectly with that vertical dark cloud
of the core and sunset that day will initiate the
longest night in the past 27,500 years. For the Maya,
it meant the death of the sun.
“But
the sun is prophesied to be reborn out of that long
night. At dawn it will burst from the dark center—the
birth canal of the Cosmic Mother. And the god will
come forth from out of her, in clouds of glory.” He
inclined his head at me, “On your birthday ,
Jack.”
I
already knew part of this from Charmant, but now my
testicles wanted to climb up inside me.
He
said, “The ancient Maya predicted this event
precisely to the moment.”
“How?
How’d they do it”
“It’s
just math.”
I
thought of what Charmant said about the relic,
“It’s just math, Jack….”
The
guy was still talking. “And the Maya kept records,
Jack—millennia of observing the night sky. They had
the mathematics to do it before even ancient Rome was
founded.”
He
stepped toward me and gestured up at atomic furnaces
that were the stars. He said, “For the Maya, this
coming grand conjunction of sun and galactic core is
both Rebirth and the End of Time. And it also marks
the exact day when the Earth’s angle of orientation
to its vertical axis will reset.
“The
Maya predicted that this Age we live in will end,
then. It has taken 27,500 years to end. It ends every
27,500 years. Nobody knows what will actually happen.
It will be your birthday present, Jack.”
“This
can’t be true. I can’t scourge the world.”
“Jack.”
He took a step toward me. “It is true; you can; you
will. You can use the power of the Sumerian relic to
rule Earth. You can do or have whatever you want.”
He
stepped closer, his eyes like burning anvils. “You
can be immortal, Jack Vane—you can be a god.
You can protect the flock for all time.” He shoved
his sharp face too close to mine, his voice too sharp,
“Jack. Look at me.” His eyes flickered in the
starlight—an ancient deity encountered in a forest
clearing.
He
said, “You can have Diana back.”
He breathed slowly. “You
can make her be alive.”
I
fell back away from him a pace.
“What
is wrong with you, Vane? You have decisions to make.
Don’t you want these wrongs righted? Where is your
outrage? Where is your morality? What the hell is your
plan? What
do you want?
Decide! These things do not go away, you can’t
ignore them—or you’ll remain the failure you’ve
always been.”
I
didn’t say anything.
He
scowled, and said, “You are a disappointment. If I
were your father, I’d drown you in a sack for
patricide—because you slay me, Vane.”
“I
have no idea who
the hell you are, pal.”
He
moved his shoulders, “You’ve worn me out.” He
waved a dismissive hand, “Just go and live your
life. The prophecy will fulfill itself, nothing can
stop that, or it wouldn’t be a prophecy, would
it….
“It’s
your fear and desire that drive and jam you into your
future, Jack. Your past seeks its own exorcism. Find
yourself. And your destiny. They are same thing.
Beyond that, I’m not allowed to tell you.”
“Tell
me? Why not?”
“You
are not ready. I have to leave now, so à
bientôt.”
And
just like that, he walked outside the ring of
firelight, into the darkness, and vanished.
I
said to nobody, “What the fuck?”
Then
I got a harsh downwash of air in the face, and looked
up to see the stars go out. Something blotted the
horizons black—silent, and impossible.
After
a while, as if a titanic blanket was dragged away, the
stars came back on.
I
stood below the center of an immeasurable circle of
icy, pin-point lights, and listened to the desert. It
was cold and sharp.
The
galaxy was an umbrella of light slashed by the black
road of Xibalba. The Mayan road of death and rebirth.
