They would stop at nothing until they could locate the portal into the posthumans’ netherworld.

I am certain now that this was the reason Xibalba’s society had split. While some transhuman beings sought immortality in the spiritual domain, others must have believed there remained some discoveries better left to God.

Having barely escaped the domed city, we directed our lumbering spacecraft into orbit, landing on the far side of the larger of the two moons, hoping the satellite’s mass would deafen our enemy’s telepathy.

The moon was a lifeless rock floating in space. No water. No soil for growing. Even with our ‘enlightened brains’ how long could we possibly survive there?

Imagine our shock when we discovered the transhumans’ abandoned lunar outpost.

Smaller than New Eden, it was nonetheless a habitat of immense proportions and incredible technology. Located within an immense dome-covered crater, the abandoned habitat held oxygen-and water-processing plants, agricultural pods, and solar-powered reactors. Dominating the periphery of the crater were acres of photovoltaic solar panels—massive trackable sheets stretching seven storeys high.

The most impressive structure had been erected within the heart of the dome itself. It was a monstrous pyramid, a copy of Egypt’s Giza, only three times the size. The facing was composed of translucent gold-paneled mirrors—conduits channeling enormous amounts of energy into the structure—

—as if the pyramid were a massive, cybernetic incubator.

Inside this lunar fortress we discovered artificial intelligence … harbored in the guise of a dart-shaped, gold-paneled starship.

The Balam.

The sight of the ship tore at the fabric of my very existence …

30

NOVEMBER 22, 2033: HANGAR 13, KENNEDY SPACE
CENTER, CAPE CANAVERAL, FLORIDA

3:26 p.m.

‘I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t give out that information.’

Lauren Beckmeyer stares at the armed guard, her blood pressure still soaring from the three-hour wait. ‘I’ve told you a hundred times, I know he’s in there. Just tell him it’s his fiancée. He’ll come out.’

‘And I told you that even if your boyfriend is in Hangar 13, this is still a restricted area and you don’t have clearance. Now you either get back in your Corvette and drive away like a good girl, or I’ll have you arrested.’

Lauren flashes the man a killing look. She climbs inside her car and guns the engine, the roadster’s rear tires spewing gravel as it heads back across the causeway.

‘If we are to succeed on Xibalba, you must learn your role,’ instructs Jacob. ‘Our attack must be synchronized. Every action, every thought must be rehearsed over and over again.’

They are standing within the holographic chamber, now programmed to the ancient Mayan Ball Court. Jacob is in his white training suit, Sam in black. Three storeys up, Dominique, Dr. Mohr, and his staff are watching from behind the thick Luxon glass.

‘I feel ridiculous,’ says Sam, still weary from two hours of intense virtual-reality combat training. ‘Why do we have to wear these stupid outfits?’