Dominique allows the female Guardian to assist her into a black temperature-regulated exoskeleton bodysuit.

‘This suit was designed by the transhumans to access the nexus. It should allow you to survive in Devlin’s realm as well. As you move, the battle armor and its neural connections will collect and recycle your body excretions, providing you with water. Drink through this extraction tube. Attached to your back is a thin, flexible air tank and oxygen processor, which supplies air through this nostril tube. There is no oxygen in purgatory; this unit creates your air supply by extracting oxygen from the CO2.’

Dominique finishes dressing, then joins Jacob, who is already wearing his white body armor.

The Guardian lead them to a launch chamber.

Lined up in rows along the chamber’s periphery are dozens of two-man transport ships, their bows encased in launch tubes angled at forty-five degrees.

‘One of our transports will take you directly to the Tezcatilpoca genetics site,’ the younger male explains. ‘May God’s highest light shine upon you both.’

‘Let’s not keep my father waiting any longer.’ Jacob climbs into the two-seat pod, a flat, triangular-shaped vessel, twenty feet long from the tip of its bulbous nose cone to the end of its propulsion device.

Dominique straps herself into the seat next to him.

The entry of the vessel reseals, activating the ship’s controls. A forward screen switches on, presenting them with an exterior image.

Stars and the blackness of space loom beyond the tunnellike launch tube.

Docking clamps release. The engine activates, its deep thrum causing Dominique’s skin to tingle.

Expelling a blast of energy, the transport accelerates through the launch tube, leaping into space. They pass high over the lunar base and the barren surface of the moonscape until the entire forward screen is filled with the silvery red world of Xibalba.

There is no sign of the Balam.

Dominique’s heart pounds with trepidation as she stares at the surface of the alien world. He’s down there somewhere, suffering from an eternity of mental anguish. Will he recognize me? Is his mind even capable of a sane thought?

WARNING: ENTERING PLANET’S ATMOSPHERE.

The transport plunges through dark magenta atmospheric storm clouds. Moss-covered volcanic rock appears beneath the overcast sky. In the distance is a continent-sized mass floating several hundred feet in the air.

‘New Eden,’ Jacob says. ‘The habitat abandoned by the original trans human culture.’

‘Incredible …’ Dominique whispers. ‘But who were these transhumans? What happened to them?’

‘I don’t know.’

Coming into view on the shadowed horizon is a silvery breeding pond the size of Florida’s Lake Okeechobee. The transport follows the artificial shoreline for several minutes, then lands next to an arena-sized complex.

The domed roof of the facility has been shattered, destroyed long ago by a tremendous force.

Jacob turns to his mother. ‘I can handle this. Stay here where it’s safe.’

She unbuckles her harness. ‘I’m coming with you.’