Mick shakes his head as if disappointed. “Don’t you even know the history of your own ancestors? The creator of the doomsday calendar, the great teacher, Kukulcan, left behind critical information in the ancient Mayan codices. Four hundred years after his departure, Spain invaded the Yucatan. Cortez was a bearded white man. The Maya mistook him for Kukulcan, the Aztecs for Quetzalcoatl. Both civilizations basically lay down and allowed themselves to be conquered, thinking their Caucasian Messiah had returned to save humanity. The Catholic priests took possession of the codices. They must have been pretty frightened by what they read because the fools burned everything, essentially condemning us to death.”

He’s getting worked up. “I don’t know, Mick. The instructions for the salvation of mankind seem way too important to leave to a bunch of Central American Indians. If Kukulcan was so wise, why didn’t he leave the information somewhere else?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For thinking, for using the logical hemisphere of your brain. The information was too important to leave to a vulnerable culture like the Maya, or any other ancient culture, for that matter. On the Nazca desert in Peru lies a visual, symbolic message, carved into the pampa in precise, four-hundred-foot glyphs. My father and I were close to interpreting the meaning of the message when he died.”

She glances innocently at her watch.

Mick jumps to his feet like a cat, startling her as he grips her shoulders. “Stop treating this as part of your graduation requirements and listen to what I’m saying. Time is a commodity we don’t have—”

She stares into his eyes as he rambles, their faces only inches apart. “Mick, let me go—” She fingers the pen.

“Listen to me—you asked me if I believe humanity will come to an end in four months. My answer is yes—unless I can complete my father’s work. If not, then we’re all going to the—”

Dominique double-clicks the pen over and over, her heart racing, her mind full of fear.

“Dominique, please—I need you to get me out of this asylum before the fall equinox.”

“Why?” Keep him talking …

“The equinox is only two weeks away. Its arrival will be announced at every site I mentioned. The Kukulcan pyramid in Chichén Itza will mark the event along its northern balustrade with the descent of the serpent’s shadow. At that moment, Earth will move into an extremely rare galactic alignment. A portal will begin to open at the center of the dark rift of the Milky Way, and the beginning of the end will be upon us.”

He’s raving … Recalling the photo of one-eyed Borgia, she shifts her weight, readying her knee.

“Dominique, I’m not a lunatic. I need you to take me seriously—”

“You’re hurting me—”