Manny sucks in slow breaths, forcing himself not to hyperventilate. No way … this isn’t real. It can’t be—

The forward two-thirds of the starship’s ‘blade’ morphs into the rear one-third ‘hilt,’ where two colossal assemblies are mounted along either side of the vessel’s tail section, each bulbous structure as large and as high as a three-storey building. Several technicians in white suits are working inside the alien engine, their lights revealing a wasp’s nest of charred, afterburner-shaped housings, each orifice no less than thirty feet in diameter.

‘This is the Balam, the starship the Guardian piloted to Earth 65 million years ago. Balam was a Mayan deity, represented by the jaguar, who protected the community against external threats. The vessel was excavated years ago from a subterranean chamber in Chichén Itzá. The great teacher, Kukulcán, who was in fact the last of the Guardian survivors, instructed the Maya to erect his pyramid over the site—’

Immanuel feels the room spinning.

‘—and the ship is also armed with an ion cannon. Our father used the weapon to defeat Tezcatilpoca on the winter solstice of 2012.’

Immanuel drops to a knee, his lungs struggling for breath. He lies back on the cold concrete surface, staring up at the ceiling, which seems a mile away. God, please, this can’t be real …

‘Manny?’

Immanuel squeezes his eyes shut. Come on, Mule, wake up, just wake the hell up—

Jacob drags him onto his feet. ‘Now don’t go schizoid on me, bro. Our deeply depressed mother wouldn’t like that.’

‘Jake … I can’t do this … I’m not ready—’

‘Yes you are. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.’ Jacob puts his arm around Immanuel’s waist, steadying him as he leads him toward a small gantry rising halfway up the port side of the starship. He lowers his voice. ‘The reason the government invested so much money into my so-called dementia is this ship. They don’t give a rat’s ass about Xibalba or the Mayan prophecies. Project GOLDEN FLEECE is all about reverse engineering this starship to see how it draws energy from our planet and deep space.’

‘No … this isn’t real—’

‘We were kids when NASA finally excavated this vessel and transported it, quite covertly, to Kennedy. Problem was, they had no way of accessing it—at least until I came along.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The Guardian designed the entries into the ship with a genetic code. You and I are the only ones capable of entering and commandeering the vessel. NASA was forced to give me carte blanche in exchange for my cooperation.’

They reach the gantry and board a small open lift. The elevator rises five stories to a gold panel marked with a three-pronged alien candelabra, the insignia glowing crimson red.

‘The Trident of Paracas,’ Manny whispers. ‘I remember this from Julius’s journal.’