“Exactly. Our world is sick. The fabric of society is riddled with a malevolent influence, a sort of cancer, and we’re looking for it in all the wrong places. Charles Baudelaire once said the devil’s deepest wile is to persuade us he doesn’t exist. Dominique, I can feel the influence gaining strength. I can feel it moving closer as the galactic portal opens and we near the winter solstice.”

“And what if this evil presence of yours doesn’t appear in three weeks? What are you going to do then?”

Mick looks puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“What, you’ve never considered the possibility that maybe you’re wrong? Mick, your entire life has been devoted to resolving the Mayan prophecy and saving humanity. Your conscience, your very identity, has been influenced by the beliefs instilled in you by your parents—enhanced, I suspect, by whatever trauma you experienced that keeps haunting you in your dreams. It doesn’t take a Sigmund Freud to tell you that the presence you feel is inside of you.”

Mick’s eyes widen as her words sink in.

“What happens when the winter solstice comes and goes and all of us are still around? What are you going to do with your life then?”

“I … I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, I just never allowed myself to dwell upon it. I was afraid that if I did, if I thought about living a normal life, then I’d eventually lose sight of what’s really important.”

“What’s really important is that you live your life to its fullest.” She takes his hand in hers. “Mick, use that brilliant mind of yours to see inside yourself. You’ve been brainwashed since birth. Your parents condemned you to save the world, but the person who really needs to be saved is Michael Gabriel. You’ve spent your entire existence chasing white rabbits, Alice. Now, we have to convince you that Wonderland doesn’t exist.”

Mick lies back, staring at the late-afternoon sky, Dominique’s words echoing in his ears.

“Mick, tell me about your mother.”

He swallows, clearing his throat. “She was my best friend. She was my teacher and companion, my whole childhood. While Julius was spending weeks on end analyzing the Nazca desert, Mom was giving me her warmth and love. When she died…”

“How did she die?”

“Pancreatic cancer. She was diagnosed when I was eleven. Toward the end, I became her nurse. She became so weak … the cancer just eating her alive. I used to read to her to keep her mind off the pain.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yes.” He sits up. “Her favorite was Romeo and Juliet. ‘Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.’ ”

“Where was your father during all this?”

“Where else? Out on the Nazca desert.”

“Were your parents close?”