Domain (43 page)

The walkway around the structure is only five feet wide. Staying clear of the precarious ledge, she wipes the sweat from her face and stands before the yawning entrance of the temple’s northern corridor. A massive portal, composed of a lintel flanked by two serpent-columns, towers above her head.

She steps inside, the interior pitch-dark. “Mick, are you in there?”

Her voice sounds dampened. She reaches into her backpack, locates the flashlight she purchased earlier, and enters the dank, limestone chamber.

The northern corridor is an enclosed double-chambered room, a central sanctuary preceded by a vestibule. The interior dead-ends at a massive, central wall. The beam of her flashlight reveals a vaulted ceiling, then a stone floor, its surface charred black from ceremonial fires. Leaving the empty chamber, she follows the platform around to the left and enters the western corridor, a barren passage that zigzags to connect with the southern and eastern corridors.

The temple is deserted.

Dominique checks the time: 11:20.
Maybe he’s not coming
?

The cool night air causes her to shiver. Seeking warmth, she ducks back into the northern chamber and leans against the central wall, the heavy stone surrounding her sealing out the wind and deadening all noise.

The atmosphere inside seems heavy, as if someone is waiting in the shadows to pounce upon her. She uses the flashlight’s beam to scan the interior, soothing her psyche.

Exhaustion gains a foothold. She lies down on the stone floor and curls up in a ball, closing her eyes, her thoughts haunting her sleep with images of blood and death.

The expanse surrounding the pyramid is a sea of swaying brown bodies and painted faces illuminated by the orange glow of ten thousand torches. From her vantage within the northern corridor, she can see blood running down the stairwell like a crimson waterfall, pooling around a pile of mangled flesh situated between the two serpent heads located at the foot of the pyramid
.

A dozen more women are in the temple with her, all dressed in white. They huddle together like frightened lambs, staring at her through vacant eyes
.

Two priests enter. Each wears a ceremonial headdress of green feathers and a loincloth cut from a jaguar’s hide. The priests approach, their dark eyes focusing on Dominique. She hacks away, her heart pounding, as each priest grabs a wrist, the two men forcibly dragging her out to the temple’s platform
.

The night air is heavy with the stench of blood and sweat and smoke
.

Facing the swooning crowd is an immense Chac Mool, a stone statue of an inclined Mayan demigod. In the Chac Mool’s lap is a ceremonial plate, spilling over with the mangled remains of a dozen severed human hearts
.

Dominique screams. She attempts to flee, but two more priests reach out and grab her by the ankles, lifting her high off the ground. The crowd groans as the head priest appears, a muscular redhead whose face remains hidden beneath the mask of a feathered serpent’s head. A devilish yellow smile appears within the serpent mask’s fanged, open mouth
.

“
Hi, Sunshine
.”

Dominique screams as Raymond tears the white cloth from her naked body, then holds the black, obsidian blade up to the crowd. A lustful chant rises from the bloodthirsty mob
.

“
Kukulcan
!
Kukulcan
!”

At Raymond’s nod, four priests lower her to the ground, pinning her against the stone platform
.

“
Kukulcan
!
Kukulcan
!”

Dominique screams again as Raymond flashes his obsidian blade. She gasps in disbelief as he raises it over his head, then plunges it forcefully into her left breast
.

“
Kukulcan
!
Kukulcan
!”

She screams in agony, twisting and contorting her outstretched body
—

“Dom, wake up—”

—
as Raymond pushes his hand into the wound and rips out her still-beating heart, holding it up to the heavens for all to see
.

“Dominique!”

Dominique lets go a bloodcurdling scream as she kicks and punches at the terrifying darkness, catching the shadow square in the face. Disoriented, still in the throes of her nightmare, she rolls sideways and springs to her feet, rushing blindly out of the chamber, sprinting toward the ninety-foot drop.

A hand reaches out and tackles her by the ankle. She slams chest-first against the platform, the pain snapping her awake.

“Jesus, Dominique, I’m supposed to be the crazy one.”

“Mick?” She sits up, rubbing her bruised ribs as she catches her breath.

Mick scoots next to her. “You all right?”

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“Same here. That must have been some nightmare. You nearly dived off the pyramid.”

She looks out over the precipice, then turns and hugs him, her limbs still shaking. “God, I hate this place. These walls reek of Mayan ghosts.” She pulls back, looking at his face. “Your nose is bleeding. Did I do that?”

“Caught me with a right cross.” He removes a bandanna from his back pocket and pinches off the flow. “This thing’s never going to heal.”

“Serves you right. Why the hell did we have to meet here of all places, and in the middle of the goddam night?”

“I’m a fugitive, remember? Speaking of which, how did you manage to get away from the Navy?”

She turns away. “You’re the fugitive, not me. I told the captain I helped you because I was confused about Iz’s death. Guess he felt sorry for me, ‘cause he let me go. Come on, we can talk about this later. Right now, I just want to get down off this pyramid.”

“I can’t leave yet. I have work to do.”

“Work? What work? It’s the middle of the night—”

“I’m searching for a passageway into the pyramid. It’s vital that we find it—”

“Mick—”

“My father was right about the Kukulcan. I discovered something—something really incredible. Let me show you.” Mick reaches into his satchel and removes a small electronic device.

“This instrument is called an ultrasonic inspectroscope. It transmits low-amplitude sound waves to determine imperfections in solids.” Mick switches his flashlight on, then takes her by the wrist and drags her back inside the temple to the central wall. He activates the inspectroscope, directing its sound waves at a cross section of stone.

“Take a look. See these wavelengths? There’s definitely another structure concealed behind this central wall. Whatever it is, it’s metallic in nature and rises straight up through the pyramid, clear to the roof of the temple.”

“Okay, I believe you. Can we go now?”

Mick stares at her, incredulous. “Go? Don’t you get it? It’s here—within these walls. All we have to do is figure out how to access it.”

“What’s here? A hunk of metal?”

“A hunk of metal that may turn out to be the instrument that will save humanity. The one left to us by Kukulcan. We have to … hey, wait, where are you going?”

She continues walking out to the platform.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“Believe what? That every man, woman, and child on this planet’s going to die within the next two weeks? No—sorry Mick, I’m still struggling with that one.”

Mick grabs her by the arm. “How can you still doubt me? You saw what’s buried in the dull. The two of us were down there together. You saw it for yourself.”

“Saw what? The interior of a lava tube?”

“A lava tube?”

“That’s right. The geologists aboard the
Boone
explained the whole thing to me. They even showed me infrared satellite photos of the entire Chicxulub crater. What appears to us as a green glow is just a subterranean lava flow passing beneath that hole in the seafloor. The hole opened up when an underwater volcano became active back in September.”

“Volcano? Dominique, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Mick, our minisub was sucked down one of the lava tubes when part of the underground infrastructure collapsed. We must have floated topside when the pressure subsided.” She shakes her head. “You really played me, didn’t you? I’m guessing you heard about the volcano from a CNN report or something. That’s the noise Iz heard over SOSUS.”

She punches him in the chest. “My father died exploring a goddam subterranean volcano—”

“No—”

“You played me, didn’t you? All you wanted was to escape—”

“Dominique, listen to me—”

“No! Listening to you is what got my father killed. Now you listen to me. I helped you because I knew you were being abused and I needed your help in finding out what happened to Iz. Now I know the truth. You set me up!”

“Bullshit! Everything the Navy fed you is a goddam lie. That tunnel was no lava tube, it was an artificially created inlet shaft. What your father heard were sounds coming from a series of giant turbines. Our minisub was sucked down an inlet shaft. The submersible jammed the turbine’s rotors. Don’t you remember any of this? I know you were hurt, but you were still conscious when I climbed out of the sub.”

“What did you say?” She looks at him, suddenly confused, disturbed by a distant memory. “Wait—did I hand you a tank of oxygen?”

“Yes! It saved my life.”

“You really climbed out?” She sits down along the edge of the summit.
Was the Navy lying
? “Mick, you couldn’t have climbed out of the sub. We were underwater—”

“The chamber was pressurized. The minisub corked the inlet.”

She shakes her head.
Stop it. He’s lying. This is nonsense
!

“I bandaged your head. You were scared. You asked me to hold you before I left the sub. You made me promise to return.”

A vague memory swirls in her mind.

Mick sits down at the foot of the summit. “You still don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?”

“I’m trying to remember.” She sits beside him. “Mick … I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I warned you not to let Iz investigate the Gulf.”

“I know.”

“I would never betray you. Never.”

“Mick, let’s say I believe you. What did you see when you left the minisub? Where did this turbine of yours lead?”

“I located some sort of drainage pipe and managed to climb up inside it. The passage led into this enormous chamber. The atmosphere inside was broiling. Red flames licked the walls.”

Mick stares at the stars. “High above my head swirled this … this magnificent emerald vortex of energy. It moved like a miniature spiral galaxy. It was so beautiful.”

“Mick—”

“Wait, there’s more. Spread out before me was a lake of molten energy, undulating like a sea of mercury, only its surface was as reflective as a mirror. And then I heard my father’s voice, speaking to me in the distance.”

“Your father?”

“Yes, only it wasn’t my father, it was some kind of alien life-form. I couldn’t see it—it was held within some kind of high-tech chamber, floating above the molten lake in an enormous pod. It looked at me through these blazing red, demonic eyes. I was scared shitless—”

Dominique exhales.
There it is. Classic dementia. Christ, Foletta was right. It was there all the time and I just refused to see it
. She watches as he stares off in the distance. “Mick, let’s talk about this. These images you saw, they’re quite symbolic, you know. Let’s start with your father’s voice—”

“Wait!” He turns to face her, his eyes wide, like black saucepans. “I just realized something. I know who the life-form was.”

“Go on.” She hears weariness in her own voice. “Who was it you think you saw?”

“It was Tezcatilpoca.”

“Who?”

“Tezcatilpoca. The evil deity I told you about on the boat. It’s an Aztec name that translates to ‘Smoking Mirror,’ a description for the deity’s weapon. According to Mesoamerican legend, the Smoking Mirror gave Tezcatilpoca the ability to see into the souls of men.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“The being looked into my soul. He spoke to me as my father, as if he knew me. He was trying to deceive me.”

She places a hand on his shoulder, fingering the dark locks of hair along his neck. “Mick, you know what I think? I think the minisub’s collision knocked both of us woozy, and—”

He pushes her hand away. “Don’t do that! Don’t patronize me. I wasn’t dreaming, and I’m not having schizophrenic delusions either. Every legend possesses its own reality. Aren’t you even familiar with the legends of your own ancestors?”

“They’re not my ancestors.”

“Bullshit.” Mick grabs her wrist. “Like it or not, there’s Quiche Maya blood flowing in these veins.”

She pulls her arm away. “I was raised in the States. I don’t believe in any of that
Popol Vuh
nonsense.”

“Just hear me out—”

“No!” She grabs him by the shoulders. “Mick, stop a second and listen to me—please. I care about you, you know that, don’t you? I think you’re an intelligent, sensitive, and extremely gifted person. If you allow me, if you trust me, I can help you through this.”

His face lights up. “Really? That’s great because I could really use your help. You know, we only have eleven days until—”

“No, you misunderstand.”
Be maternal
. “Mick, this is going to be very hard for you to hear, but I have to say it. You’re showing every sign of suffering from a severe case of paranoid schizophrenia. It’s got you so confused, you can’t see the forest for the trees. It could be congenital in nature, or it could just be the effects of eleven years in solitary. Whatever the case, you need help.”

“Dom, what I saw wasn’t any manifestation. What I saw was the interior of a very high-tech, very alien spacecraft.”

“A spacecraft?”
Oh, God, I’m out of my league
.

“Wake up, Dominique. The government knows it’s down there, too—”

Classic paranoid delusions
…

“That nonsense they fed you aboard the
Boone
was just a cover-up story.”

Hot tears of frustration roll down her cheeks as she realizes the devastating error of her ways. Dr. Owen had been right all along. By opening her heart to her patient, she had destroyed her objectivity. Everything that had come to pass was her fault. Iz was dead, Edie under arrest, and the man whom she had reached out to, the man who she had sacrificed everything for, was nothing more than a paranoid schizophrenic whose mind had finally snapped.