Synopsis
Once upon a time in the 21st century, scientists established the first colony on Mars...and discovered: Life and Death on the Red Planet...
The small four seater plane, the Mars-Eagle 1, soared lazily across the vermilion Martian skies, and through a thick haze of titian dust, toward Tharsis Volcanic Province. Professor Jerry Jerkowski the lead scientist checked the surface temperature readings. It was a surprisingly hot day on Mars, perhaps the hottest day on record, but it would be even warmer inside the lava tubes; conditions optimal for awakening any dormant Martian life, which is exactly what he was searching for.
Professor Jerkowski gazed off toward the Martian horizon where four savagely massive volcanoes loomed. Dust storms, kicked up by solar radiation, swirled about the jagged cratered surface, creating rivers of haze which clung to the magma encrusted base of the towering volcanoes, giving the entire landscape a foreboding, primeval, almost supernatural quality. Jerkowksi was convinced a catastrophe of cosmic proportions had claimed these lands, destroying what had been a lush, living planet, with oceans and rivers, and intelligent life. Yes, a great cosmic evil had long ago destroyed the cities and civilizations that was Mars leaving behind only stark devastation; of this he was certain! Professor Jerkowski grumbled. He knew his views were considered heresy, even lunacy in the halls of science; but that's why he was on Mars, and they were not. "Let the bastards laugh," he muttered. Today he would prove them wrong!
And so begins the story of life and death on the Red Planet and the adventures of the first colony on Mars, and the scientists who believe Mars was once a living planet, with oceans and rivers which may have long ago harbored complex animals and all manner of life. But did intelligent beings also evolve on the Red Planet and create monumental temples, castles, cities and civilizations which later turned to darkness and dust? And what became of the ocean of Mars and those who may have thrived along its shore? Was the Martian ocean dragged into space after a collision with an Earth-sized planet? Did the Martians die, or escape to another world? Did the cataclysms of Mars effect the evolution of life on Earth? What secrets lay hidden in the sands of Cydonia and beneath the pyramid shaped Diamond Mountain? Is the environment of Mars and a secret technology activating silent genes and turning the children of the Mars Colony into Martians?
And yet, all is not science and adventure. Death stalks the Red Planet and claims those who threaten Mars. The very existence of the Mars Colony is in peril. But all is not lost. There is Martian gold and DNA. Genetic designer super-babies who plot and scheme. A DNA-brain-based technology designed to teach "The Martian Way." Dreams that control the future. Computers that think and talk. Genetic engineering in the garden of Eden. A secret door that leads to the Cathedral of Consciousness and the Hall of Answers. A pyramid which may contain all the knowledge of the universe. And a DNA-based collective consciousness which proclaims: "Childhood's end. The glory which was Mars, shall rise again."
All this and more....
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Lost Continents & Lost Civilizations
Atlantis
Day of Deluge
by Rhawn Joseph
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The black winds roared and the earth quaked and groaned as the god, Quoatl, lashed the heavens with his serpentine tail. Holding fast to the great oaken desk, Silver haired Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, steadied himself and peered upward through the shattered stained glass windows and fixed his tired pale green eyes on Quoatl, that terrible dragon.
Again the earth rolled and quaked and yet another part of the great city toppled in ruin. With a helpless sigh, Amon Akatok Hotek, lowered his gaze and surveyed the wreckage of the once great kingdom of the Sun.
It was as predicted by the hours of the cosmic clock, and the 12 houses of destiny. Circles within circles, ringed with stars and ruled by the 12 great gods, two by two, in orderly precession, as determined by the hours of the cosmic solar clock. The hour had struck, Pieces succumbs, and the Virgin queen of heaven dies giving birth to her bastard spawn, the serpent god Quoatl. The war in heaven had already begun.
Sighing helplessly, Amon searched the heavens and silently pondered the dying Virgin god and the twin gods of the fish. These were but two of the 12 gods of the outer circle, each of whom, with their sons and daughters, ruled the heavens for 2160 solar years.
Destiny cannot be defied. The hours of the cosmic clock cannot be turned forward. Pieces' time has passed. Virgo's reign over the summer solstice ends, as does the "golden age" which shall be lost to the memory of man, wiped clean from the Earth in the confluence of catastrophes that befall the planet every 12,960 solar years.
The time of catastrophe, the dawn of the new age was upon them.
With an ear-splitting crack the sky split asunder, belching fire and brimstone. Terrible crimson stones rained from the heavens and beat upon the ancient stone Temple of the Sun, shattering the remnants of the intricately designed stained glass windows.
Again the earth rolled and quaked, and then rolled again, toppling the statues of the gods, and scattering the bejeweled golden metal manuscripts and scrolls of deer skin and ocelot that had laid upon his oaken desk.
Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, held fast to the great desk. Beneath his feet the earth shook and moaned.
And then, deathly silence, pierced by the screams and cries of the frightened multitude as they ran helter skelter in a blind panic or lay dying beneath the broken ramparts of the ruined city.
Wearily, Amon Akatok Hotek focused his mind's eye and retrieved his golden crystal metal manuscripts. With the imagined movement of his hands, he swept away the thick shards of purple, green and golden glass that lay scattered across his intricately carved writing desk.
Beneath his feet, the earth rolled and rumbled.
Day upon day, week upon week, the cries of the earth grew more anguished as the god, Quoatl, that terrible serpent, bore down upon her. According to the calculations agreed upon by the collective consciousness of the priests and elders, Amon now had 24 hours to complete his divine-task. It had been 52 suns since the beginning of the Great War in Heaven, the battle among the stars; it was now the beginning of the end.
Taking a deep breath, Amon Akatok steadied his aged and bejeweled writing hand and studied his long elegant fingers which were adorned with diamond and ruby rings. He would complete the task ordained by the priests and elders. Amon Akatok Hotek would explain the past, the present, and the future so that future generations would understand the ticking of the great cosmic clock which always foretold the future by repeating the past.
Amon Hotek focused his mind's eye and through concentrated thought picked up his etching pin, a gift from the Huxtl-tepas. Lovingly, he rubbed a crooked bejeweled finger across the golden metal tablet and the Huxtl-tepa's crystals embedded in its surface. In a dream he had been given him a final task: Prepare the civilizations of the future for the end of all time: Tell them of the cosmic circle of eternal recurrence by chronicling the "signs." Preserve the wisdom, science, history, and cosmic calendar of the Axtyl, Atlantos, and Lcoatza peoples and those who lived on the far side of the Eastern and Western seas! The chronicles would be preserved in the imperishable stones and golden magma metals of the Huxtl-tepas!
But how to make the children of the future understand destiny? Would they believe the destruction and renewal of civilization could be determined through the observation of the stars? Could they comprehend that the movement of sun, and the Earth as they made their journey through the heavens and the houses of the 12 gods, foretells the future?
Words and picture writing were not enough. Within the pictures that speak, talking-pictures which he had impressed upon the crystals, Amon inserted a second universal language that would be understood by the truly adept: The language of numbers!
Beneath his feet, the earth rattled and groaned. Burning crimson stones fell from the sky, pounding and pummeling the city and the ancient stone Temple of the Sun.
Amon Akatok Hotek closed his mind to the chaos. Taking his writing tool in hand he gazed down at the speaking images he created in the moments before the last quake scattered his bejeweled golden manuscripts:
"And there appeared a great wonder in heaven: A woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve
stars: And she being with child cried travailing in birth and pained to
be delivered."
The woman was the god, Virgo, whose house had ruled the summer solstice for 2160 years. Shaped like a cup, a holy grail, and residing in the Eastern sky, Virgo was one of the 12 great gods who ruled the outer circle.
And now the goddess was dead. She passed on giving birth to the serpent, the feathered water dragon, the bastard son of Aquarius, who in turn had overthrown her husband, the god Pieces, whose house had ruled the Winter Solstice.
The House of Pieces overthrown by Aquarius. The unchaste Virgin chased from the heavens by the untamed Lion who now ascended her throne.
And then there was the serpent god, Quoatl, who emerged from the outer reaches of the inner circle to attack the minor gods every 12,960 years.
Circles within circles, 12 and again 12, the two faces of the cosmic clock.
Amon Akatok Hotek, casting the words from the surface of his mind, wrote: "And there appeared another wonder in heaven: And behold a great red dragon having seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns upon his head. And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven and did cast them to the Earth."
Again the earth quaked and quaked again, and yet more of the great city toppled in ruins.
Amon Akatok Hotek gazed upward through the shattered windows, and watched as the serpent god Quoatl snaked across the lightning seared sky, spitting ruby red blood and trailing crimson oceans that gleamed like an endless river of fire. Quoatl, the terrible dragon, would soon devour the eye of the sun, while lashing the Earth with oceans of ice and blood. Then during the darkest coldest hours, Quoatl would feast upon the frozen flooded Earth.
With writing tool held firmly in his mind's eye, Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, created a map of the 12 sky gods. Next he created the rising and setting sun, in orientation to Atlantos, the Great City of the Sun and its three Great Temples. Next he outlined "the road of the gods;" a map of the heavens on earth as mirrored in the layout of the city. Inserting each mental image into the Huxtl-tepla crystals, Amon patiently detailed the base of the three Temples which were aligned to the three belt stars of the constellation of Orion, the king of the underworld; Orion, of the fifth dynasty, which ruled before the last cycle of destruction, 13,000 years before Amon's time, during the last Golden Age when the true god-kings had come from the heavens to reign over the Earth.
It was these wise and wonderful god-kings of the fifth dynasty, which first directed and designed the creation of the temples, to mark the beginning and the end of each Golden Age. Thus the Temples of the Sun were oriented in a southwest--northeast axis to point to the rising sun on the day of the summer solstice which for 2160 years had been ruled by the Virgin. The smaller temples of Atlantos, were erected on an east-west axis and faced the rising sun on the day of the winter solstice which had been ruled by the twin Gods of the fish.
It has been 12,960 suns, since the last cycle of destruction. After the last cataclysm, almost all from that golden period, the great wonders, the flying machines, the crystal cities, the great libraries, and the knowledge and wisdom of that era, had been almost completely destroyed, eradicated and lost; relegated to fantasy and myth, and nearly been forgotten, It had been the end of the true Golden Age when heroes and God-Kings wisely ruled the Earth.
Amon and the other Elders and priests, even with their great wisdom and mental powers and possession of the great calendars, understood little from the time of the god-kings, and the last Golden age.
The mind of man has lost its cutting edge, Amon lamented. We hardly understand the Ancients.
Amon pondered: Would the children of the future understand the significance of the two crossings each solar year? How twice each year the sun appeared to stop its movement, before reversing course?
Amon created an image of the solstices--the "sun standing still"--superimposed on the Temple. The Temple of the Sun had been erected during the reign of Virgo. Thus on the day of the solstice, the longest day of of the year, the sun appeared to rise in the house of Virgo, filling her loving cup with life nourishing light.
The smaller temples of Atlantos, faced the winter solstice and on the shortest day of the year, the sun appeared to rise in the house of Pieces.
He next created the face of the cosmic clock. The sun was the keeper of time, his golden arms ticking away for all eternity, determining the future, by the past.
For over 2000 years the hours were fixed on the Virgin and the twin gods of the fish. Hail Virgo! Hail Pieces! As foretold by the ancients, each time these two Gods ascend the throne of heaven, the dawn of a new Golden Age would begin:
"Now the Virgin returns, the reign of Pieces returns, now a new generation descends from heaven on high. Only do thou, pure Virgo, smile on the birth of the Golden Age, under whom the iron brood shall first cease, and a golden race spring up throughout the world!"
Yes, Virgo the virgin gave birth to a new age: A golden age of science and wisdom, in which mankind had become almost god-like, again.
Now it was the hour of chaos: It was the new age of the untamed devouring Lion, the new age of Aquarius the god of impenetrable deep waters. And the age of chaos, of Quoatl, the great dragon.
The catastrophic age of the water god and the lion had begun. Chaos would reign for 2160 years. The Golden age would again, be relegated to myth and fantasy. All would be forgotten, yet again. And then, 12,000 suns from now, the cycle would repeat itself: A new Golden Age, ushered in by the Virgin and the twin gods of the fish.
Circles within circles. Eternal recurrence. Destiny was written in the stars. The future determined by the past, the sun acting to count down the hours to each new age and the birth and death of every god: the end of every beginning, and the beginning of every end.
As Amon and the other priests well knew, the cosmic clock-like cycle of the Earth's orbit around the sun, gave rise to the illusion of the sun rising in the house of a different god every 30 days. Each year, however, the arms of the clock would slowly tick backward, moving a full 30 degrees every 2160 suns. Thus, every 2160 years, the sun would rise in the house of a different god during the summer and winter solstice and equinox.
Amon labored to impress his thoughts within the crystals, making images that speak: The Earth orbits from west to east, in a counter-clockwise direction, he explained. Thus the sun appears to move in a counter-clockwise direction, such that the hands of the solar precessional clock also move backwards: Libra, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Gemini, Taurus, Aries, Pisces, Aquarius...
Thus, 4320 years ago, the hands of the winter solar clock pointed at Aries, the god of the Ram, whereas the summer solstice was ruled by Libra. And then, 2160 years ago the hands of the winter solar clock pointed toward Pisces, the twin gods of the fish, whereas the summer solstice was ruled by the Virgin. And now that time has come to an end and Aquarius the god of raging waters shall rule the winter solstice and the Lion shall devour the Earth.
And in 12,960 years, Pieces will rule not the winter, but the summer, and Virgo the winter, and with the death of these two gods, Aquarius and he lion would ascend the throne, and chaos would envelop the earth yet again.
The priests called the backward movement of the hours "precession" which in turn had a repetitive, clock-like predictability: Every 12,960 years Pieces and the Virgin would again become the rulers of heaven, and after 2160 suns, they would again abdicate their reins, dethroned by Aquarius and the Lion.
Every 12,960 years Quoatl would return from beyond the farthest stars of the inner circle. And with Quoatl's return there would be a war in heaven and the 2160 year long Golden age ushered in by Pieces and Virgo, would come to an end. These heavenly wars ended the last Golden Age, and now, as predicted, the wars had begun yet again.
Quoatl had already defeated the red God of war, Huxtl-tepla, and now the Earth would again suffer the wrath of that terrible serpent, the bastard offspring of the gods.
And yet, as Amon knew, in the next cycle, when another 12,960 years has passed, the age of destruction would be even more terrible...a confluence of catastrophes that would not only strike down arrogant man as he strived to yet again become god, but eradicate and erase the human race from the planet's face. In the next cycle, the Earth would suffer Huxtl-tepla's fate.
Again the earth rattled, quaked, and rolled, turning yet more of the broken city into riot and ruin. And now, as torrential rains beat and drummed upon the flooded, quaking grounds, a great shadow began to fall across Atlantos, the city of the Sun. Quoatl was eating at the sun.
As the earth groaned a frigid ill wind, and a moist, red stench, streaked throughout the broken Temple, snaking beneath Amon Hotek's thick, richly embroidered golden and purple robes and his jade, diamond and emerald encrusted leopard dress. Though his thick royal robes were laced tightly to his thin, stooped shoulders and narrow waist by a series of gold and jade buckles, Amon shivered from the unwelcome cold.
Amon summoned, with his mind's eye, his servant-wife, and instructed her, with picture thoughts, the specifics of his needs. Not entirely to his surprise, she failed to reply, her mind closed tight to shut out the terror and fear.
With the tendrils of his mind he touched her, and experienced the blackest of black fear. Her mind was a boiling cauldron of panic and frozen despair. Conjuring forth her image, he could see her, crouched and huddled with the others, in the subterranean galleries, shaking, trembling, and mumbling prayers to the gods.
Reaching deep within her brain, he stroked her with his thoughts, soothing, calming, and then, commanding with his mind's eye. She would obey.
The earth rolled and rumbled, and the great temple creaked and threatened to tumble, but as commanded, she emerged in the great hall. Bowing and bowing again, she approached him, swaying, tripping, trying not to fall, with panicked eyes cast to the floor. The garments he requested were clenched tightly in her outstretched and shaking hands.
Quickly he robed himself in leggings and tunic which were embroidered with cosmic symbols and complex geometric designs. The divine patterns and mystical symbols swirled about two jaguars who crouched to the left and right of a golden sun that shone from the center of his chest. Over his shoulders he threw a heavy woolen cape decorated with the faces of the 12 great gods.
Yet, even though robed in royal splendor and with the insignia of the gods, there was no escape from the frigid black winds and the wet crimson residue of the icy blood red rains which rattled and chilled his old bones. Amon shivered, and creating picture thoughts, silently commanded his servant-wife to attend to the waning fires that flickered in their respective heaths.
Amon shivered and shivered again, for even with his mind's eye, he could not generate sufficient heat. It was all he could do to keep himself standing upright, attending to his god-given tasks, and defying the rocking and rolling beneath his feet.
Again he focused his mind's eye, creating words and talking pictures within the glowing crystals and golden-magma metals. Quoatl, he explained, was not truly a god, but a moon-sized outcast that followed an extreme elliptical orbit, journeying far beyond the inner circle. And every 12000 years Quoatl was cast out of the distant heavens, and sent spiraling toward the inner circle of the planetary gods, careening close to Unus, Aquatune, Earth and Venus, and almost colliding, this cosmic cycle, with Huxtl-tepla, the red god of war.
For the last three cycles of the moon, after defeating the red god Huxtl-tepla, and stripping the god of his skin and cloak, the great glowing crimson serpent snaked ever onward through the heavens, growing larger and closer to the Earth, trailing the skin and oceans of the red god in his wake. The serpent God was terrifyingly beautiful to behold.
And then, as it seemed the dragon would swallow up the Earth, Quoatl turned away and the people rejoiced. It was a "sign" the Grand Incaz proclaimed, of the new golden age. It was a "sign" of the the Grand Incaz's divinity and favor with the gods.
Amon Akatok Hotek did not rejoice, for he did not believe the divine Incaz's lies. Amon and the elders well knew the war in heaven had just begun. The red god was dead and the great dragon would soon tear out the eye of the sun, turning the Earth into a land of frozen water and ice. Quoatl had already begun to lash the Earth with oceans of freezing red rain and mud. First the eye of the sun, and then the earth would freeze and drown in the icy oceans of Huxtl-tepla blood. Yes, Huxtl-tepla had been stripped naked, and it was Huxtl-tepla oceans, air, rivers and streams that trailed behind Quoatl, creating the great dragon's serpentine tail.
The serpent god, though he had turned away, now lashed and lashed again at the troubled Earth with his great watery tail, Huxtl-tepla blood.
And with the frigid red rains monstrosities were falling from the sky. Crimson snakes and white frogs with a dozen eyes, two-headed blue worms with glowing red wings, green snails with purple tongues, yellow flying fish with fingers and legs, and all manner of reptilian creatures and horrifying monstrosities...for three days they had rained down from the heavens. Great and small they had stormed and fallen upon the Earth -incredible creatures the likes of which had never before been seen by Amon and the peoples of Axtyl and Lcoatza...creatures unknown to the bearded ones, the men of ebony, amber, and niger, and those of the three pyramids, of Agypt, across the Great Eastern Sea.
"It is the blood of Quoatl, a crimson tide flowing from the many wounds suffered during the cosmic war with the god Huxtl," so proclaimed the Grand Incaz. And this the people believed for had not the Great War between the Gods been seen by all?
"Quoatl is dying and will soon be dead," the Grand Incaz proclaimed, and the people rejoiced, because the Incaz was divine.
Yet the elders and the priests did not believe; they said that the Divine Incaz lied. The Incaz wished only to soothe the people, and had falsely proclaimed the serpent god's coming demise.
That very morning, the Grand Incaz had stood before the people, preaching through his mind, that this trial of tribulation would be followed by a new golden era of knowledge and wisdom...a rebirth that would follow their baptism in blood... so proclaimed the Incaz.
And this too, the people believed, for before the war in heaven enveloped the earth did not the jar people, the giants of Huxtl-tepla, appear from the sky, bearing gifts and the science and wisdom of the Gods? Did not titanic black shining metal monsters, flying, crawling metallic monstrosities, herald their coming?
Lies. All lies. Falsehoods meant to calm the people. Amon Hotek knew well that these bearers of knowledge were not from Quoatl, but from Huxtl-tepla, the red god of war. They had fled the god of the inner circle, which was even smaller than the Earth, because Quoatl, the god of the snake, had struck a mortal blow.
So grievous were Huxtl-tepla's wounds that his cries had echoed across the star studded seas of space. The terrible bellowing screams of the dying Huxtl-tepla had driven his panicked-stricken people, the chosen few, to the Earth where they hoped to hide and survive. But most of the Huxtl-tepla peoples, Amon knew, had been left behind. They had died as Quoatl stripped their planet of its oceans and air and turned the god of war into a waterless, airless desert of rusting red dust.
Amon knew it mattered not what the Incaz said, for even if his people had ears to hear, it would have turned out all the same.
Nothing could be done. The elders and priests, with the power of their combined mind's eyes, could not defeat the dragon.
The Huxtl-tepa's, the giant jar people were also helpless were they not? Amon well knew that despite their scientific wonders and technological wizardry, the Huxtl-tepa had not won the war in Heaven, the battle among the stars. They could not escape the cosmic chain that had destroyed god's and kingdom's ancient and near and far.
Was not the blood of Quoatl in fact the skin of the red God? Did not Huxtl's life blood, his oceans and his seas, trail shamefully behind the great dragon who had been cast out of Heaven? Was this not why the giant Huxtl-tepas fled to Earth?
And now the red god was dead, stripped of his oceans and his skin which trailed behind Quoatl. Huxtl-tepla's great crimson oceans and ruby seas had become the tail of the snake and even now were falling to Earth. Huxtl-tepla had become a frozen red desert, bereft of human and animal life, and in 12,960 suns, the Earth would become the same--consumed by man-made fires and stripped of oceans, air, and life.
Yes, Amon nodded sagely, destiny could not be altered. The heroes and God-kings of the last Golden Age had foreseen the future, but to no avail. The Huxtl-tepas could not prevail. Even the "chosen few" would not escape the cosmic tides of eternal recurrence. Like their dead god, the surviving Huxtl-tepas and their great wisdom, would also die, for giants were not meant to walk the Earth.
It was as predicted by the Great Cosmic Codicil, the calendar of 12,960 suns, and verified by his own calculations and those of the wizards of Agypt -from the land of the three pyramids. The war in heaven, the battle of the stars had all been foretold by the movement of the sun. Destiny was determined by the stars and the hours of the cosmic clock, dictating what the future would bring by what had happened, twice now, in humanity's ancient and forgotten past.
Yes, they had been warned, but to no avail.
Chaos, thy name is Quoatl!
The ancient priests had written:
"This is the one that made the Earth to tremble, that did to shake
kingdoms. That made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the
cities. But beware and rejoice not because the rod of his that smote thee is
broken: for out of the serpent's root and of his fruit shall be a fiery
flying dragon."
Quoatl, the bringer of light, would be cast out of the Great God's outer heavenly realm yet again and again, to wrack havoc upon the lesser gods of the inner circle for all eternity and to destroy the last of men.
Eternal recurrence. And as predicted, the earth was now enveloped in yet another heavenly war.
It had all been foretold by the ancients, and the cosmic clock. And all had come to pass, as had been foretold.
And now Quoatl, the great dragon would consume them all!
"Woe, Woe Woe" Amon moaned. The end of time and days was upon them, and all would be forgotten. Forgotten! And then forgotten yet again. Knowledge, wisdom, science and civilization, the great achievement of Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, Agypt, Indra, and Zhina, and even the Huxtl-tepla's would be forgotten and become myth.
Amon sighed helplessly. All might be lost and would be forgotten, and this was perhaps the greatest sin. Amon knew well that five thousand suns would pass before the darkness of barbarism would cease and the cycle of renewal and rebirth would begin anew. Another five thousand suns before men of science would again reach for the stars and planets in search of knowledge and wisdom.
"Ten thousand years... an age of darkness," Amon Akatok Hotek cried with despair. For it was as the Great Chronicles predicted. And then, the future: The age of Aquarius and the cycle of destruction would come full circle and the earth would be attacked yet again; but the next time the end would include the end of man.
Circles within circles, clocks within clocks, and in 12,960 years, Virgo and Pieces would again end their rein, with Pieces abdicating rule not of the winter solstice, but the summer. With the Virgin abdicating not the summer, but the winter.
The Lion and the water god, Aquarius, would again unsurp the thrones of heaven. Quoatl would again return from the outer edges of the inner circle to wage war upon the earth and the lesser gods.
Chaos every 12,960 years.
Destiny could not be altered. But fate could be mastered by men.
Amon again worked the bejeweled crystals, in order to explain the past to the children of the future. Through Amon and the knowledge contained in the crystals, the peoples of the future could become masters of their fate.
Outside the black winds roared, the Earth heaved and huge blocks of stone, dislodged by the quake, shattered upon the temple floor. Billowing dust blew through the broken halls. And then the Earth heaved and shook again, and yet more buildings fell and sank into the rising rivers and the crimson sea of blood and ice.
Amon Hotek, covered with dust, steadied himself and gazed grievously through the shattered windows at the remnants of the great and broken city, its many monuments, arches, temples, and statues toppled and in ruins.
Amon put his hands to his head, his ears assailed by the piteous and wretched screams of the doomed and dying. Yet the cries were so many, he could not block out their screams and moans even with his mind's eye.
The Great Temple had not been spared. Huge blocks of cut stone, and broken statues of household and Temple gods, lay helter skelter in pieces great and small upon the layers of silk, gold, and jaguar that carpeted the marble halls.
Amon gazed sorrowfully at the wreckage. Lost. All was lost.
He steadied himself as the Earth heaved again and yet again. The Great Temple now leaned and swayed. The rising waters, Amon realized, were eating away at the great foundation of the Temple of the Sun, turning the earth into a bloody, oozing mud.
Soon, soon it would be time to take refuge. With his family and faithful servants he would hide in the sealed subterranean galleries now stocked with books, the precious bejeweled golden manuscripts, and a profusion of food, water, and oil for light. He knew he should not delay another day or all his precautions and plans would be lost and to no avail.
Yet, although he and his family might survive, Atlantos, his city, his nation, his people, their glorious achievements and civilization, all would be lost, forgotten by the future and relegated to what the ignorant called myth. It was as predicted by the chronicles, by the unalterable unchanging cosmic cycle of eternal recurrence.
Unless, unless...he mused, his warnings and his wisdom would survive and someday be understood by the children of the future...Yes, he said, silently to himself, as he glided his fingers across the knowing crystals and the golden manuscripts. The future was in peril, and he held the future in his hands.
He had to make them understand. Amon's mind and fingers flew over the precious stones, creating pictures that spoke, and numbers that would understanding evoke: what had transpired so many times so long long ago, would begin again and again, anew. A great war in heaven, another battle among the stars, again and again in 12,000 suns, repeating itself in a great cosmic circle. The heavens would again be wracked by planetary battles, and stars would fall from the sky, the peoples of the future blotted out for all eternity, destroyed, by hellish man-made fires and yet another serpentine war and flood.
Amon Hotek sighed and hung his noble head in sadness. Were his efforts to be in vain? Would the peoples of the future perish despite the bejeweled metallic plaques he had so carefully prepared? He sighed again. Was it not inevitable?
Amon's pale green eyes wondered eastward where a plume of thick black smoke billowed and mushroomed, erupting from the gaping yaws of the sacred mountain of Atlantos. The burning blood of the trembling, fire spitting mountain threatened to swallow the Huxtl-tepa temple, just as the whole Earth would drown in Huxtl-tepa blood. Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the bearded ones, the men of ebony, niger and amber, those of the three pyramids, of Indra, Zhina, and the peoples of the Eastern and Western seas, all would become as if they never were and had never been, swallowed by the rising seas.
They would freeze and drown in the icy crimson tides that formed the tail of the dragon god Quoatl; the frozen cities and great kingdoms destroyed by flood and ice and quaking Earth. And then would come the age of darkness and the long winter as Quoatl would surely completely tear out the eye of the sun; and the long winter would not end until Quoatl was captured and flung again to the outer circle by that Great Star, the Sun.
Amon Hotek gazed with satisfaction at the bejeweled metallic plaque. Despite the quaking, rolling earth, it was almost complete. And then he would thwart those bedazzled by greed, those ignorant of the wisdom of the stones, by secreting the bejeweled tablet in the great Huxtl-tepa temple. According to their calculations, Amon had less than 24 hours before the flood, the great darkness, and the end of time.
And now, with a final flourish of his mind's eye it was done. The chronicles and the history would be preserved!
Mercifully, the rumbling, jarring motion of the earth began to wane, and the torrential rains to slow. Yet Amon Akatok Hotek knew it was but a brief respite, for the rains, and trembling and rolling of the earth did not fully cease. It would soon quake and quake again and the cities of the earth would all completely fall.
And then, something touched his mind. A warning. What was it?
Amon Akatok Hotek, steadied his aged body and waited with baited breath. The earth had ceased to groan, the rains had ceased to fall, and a great quiet, a terrible suffocating silence had enveloped the Temple of the Sun. The great quiet! An impenetrable silence.
For the first time, Amon was afraid.
And then, the Earth began to tremble, then to rattle and rumble. Amon inhaled and held his breath, his aged bejeweled hands gripping his ancient desk, waiting, waiting, waiting... And then the ground heaved and rolled crazily as if a great terrible serpent slithered beneath the earth... and then there was a titanic gut wrenching spasmodic heave and roar, and then another and another.
Amon Akatok Hotek, his instruments and metallic documents, were thrust into the air and tossed to and fro bouncing from wall to crumbling wall, like leaves in a storm. And the Temple began to sway and tumble, and then the temple walls began to crash and crumble...falling, falling... crushing him beneath tremendous broken slabs of stone.
....and as his life began to ebb and fade away, and as womanly screams, fading pleas and desperate dying cries echoed miserably through the tumbling halls and his dying brain, Amon Akatok Hotek wept and cried; not for pain, but at the searing, wrenching realization that he had failed, and that the bejeweled golden slate, like his broken body, would be forever lost and forgotten, entombed for all eternity, beneath the sea, in this shattered monument to the gods, and unalterable destiny.
The Origins of Life
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Biological Big Bang
Life On Earth Came From Other Planets
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Once upon a time in the 21st century, scientists established the first colony on Mars...and discovered: Life and Death on the Red Planet... The small four seater plane, the Mars-Eagle 1, soared lazily across the vermilion Martian skies, and through a thick haze of titian dust, toward Tharsis Volcanic Province. Professor Jerry Jerkowski the lead scientist checked the surface temperature readings. It was a surprisingly hot day on Mars, perhaps the hottest day on record, but it would be even warmer inside the lava tubes; conditions optimal for awakening any dormant Martian life, which is exactly what he was searching for. Professor Jerkowski gazed off toward the Martian horizon where four savagely massive volcanoes loomed. Dust storms, kicked up by solar radiation, swirled about the jagged cratered surface, creating rivers of haze which clung to the magma encrusted base of the towering volcanoes, giving the entire landscape a foreboding, primeval, almost supernatural quality. Jerkowksi was convinced a catastrophe of cosmic proportions had claimed these lands, destroying what had been a lush, living planet, with oceans and rivers, and intelligent life. Yes, a great cosmic evil had long ago destroyed the cities and civilizations that was Mars leaving behind only stark devastation; of this he was certain! Professor Jerkowski grumbled. He knew his views were considered heresy, even lunacy in the halls of science; but that's why he was on Mars, and they were not. "Let the bastards laugh," he muttered. Today he would prove them wrong! And so begins the story of life and death on the Red Planet and the adventures of the first colony on Mars, and the scientists who believe Mars was once a living planet, with oceans and rivers which may have long ago harbored complex animals and all manner of life. But did intelligent beings also evolve on the Red Planet and create monumental temples, castles, cities and civilizations which later turned to darkness and dust? And what became of the ocean of Mars and those who may have thrived along its shore? Was the Martian ocean dragged into space after a collision with an Earth-sized planet? Did the Martians die, or escape to another world? Did the cataclysms of Mars effect the evolution of life on Earth? What secrets lay hidden in the sands of Cydonia and beneath the pyramid shaped Diamond Mountain? Is the environment of Mars and a secret technology activating silent genes and turning the children of the Mars Colony into Martians? And yet, all is not science and adventure. Death stalks the Red Planet and claims those who threaten Mars. The very existence of the Mars Colony is in peril. But all is not lost. There is Martian gold and DNA. Genetic designer super-babies who plot and scheme. A DNA-brain-based technology designed to teach "The Martian Way." Dreams that control the future. Computers that think and talk. Genetic engineering in the garden of Eden. A secret door that leads to the Cathedral of Consciousness and the Hall of Answers. A pyramid which may contain all the knowledge of the universe. And a DNA-based collective consciousness which proclaims: "Childhood's end. The glory which was Mars, shall rise again." All this and more.... |
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Lost Continents & Lost Civilizations |
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Day of Deluge
by Rhawn Joseph
The black winds roared and the earth quaked and groaned as the god, Quoatl, lashed the heavens with his serpentine tail. Holding fast to the great oaken desk, Silver haired Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, steadied himself and peered upward through the shattered stained glass windows and fixed his tired pale green eyes on Quoatl, that terrible dragon. Again the earth rolled and quaked and yet another part of the great city toppled in ruin. With a helpless sigh, Amon Akatok Hotek, lowered his gaze and surveyed the wreckage of the once great kingdom of the Sun. It was as predicted by the hours of the cosmic clock, and the 12 houses of destiny. Circles within circles, ringed with stars and ruled by the 12 great gods, two by two, in orderly precession, as determined by the hours of the cosmic solar clock. The hour had struck, Pieces succumbs, and the Virgin queen of heaven dies giving birth to her bastard spawn, the serpent god Quoatl. The war in heaven had already begun. Sighing helplessly, Amon searched the heavens and silently pondered the dying Virgin god and the twin gods of the fish. These were but two of the 12 gods of the outer circle, each of whom, with their sons and daughters, ruled the heavens for 2160 solar years. Destiny cannot be defied. The hours of the cosmic clock cannot be turned forward. Pieces' time has passed. Virgo's reign over the summer solstice ends, as does the "golden age" which shall be lost to the memory of man, wiped clean from the Earth in the confluence of catastrophes that befall the planet every 12,960 solar years. The time of catastrophe, the dawn of the new age was upon them. With an ear-splitting crack the sky split asunder, belching fire and brimstone. Terrible crimson stones rained from the heavens and beat upon the ancient stone Temple of the Sun, shattering the remnants of the intricately designed stained glass windows. Again the earth rolled and quaked, and then rolled again, toppling the statues of the gods, and scattering the bejeweled golden metal manuscripts and scrolls of deer skin and ocelot that had laid upon his oaken desk. Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, held fast to the great desk. Beneath his feet the earth shook and moaned. And then, deathly silence, pierced by the screams and cries of the frightened multitude as they ran helter skelter in a blind panic or lay dying beneath the broken ramparts of the ruined city. Wearily, Amon Akatok Hotek focused his mind's eye and retrieved his golden crystal metal manuscripts. With the imagined movement of his hands, he swept away the thick shards of purple, green and golden glass that lay scattered across his intricately carved writing desk. Beneath his feet, the earth rolled and rumbled. Day upon day, week upon week, the cries of the earth grew more anguished as the god, Quoatl, that terrible serpent, bore down upon her. According to the calculations agreed upon by the collective consciousness of the priests and elders, Amon now had 24 hours to complete his divine-task. It had been 52 suns since the beginning of the Great War in Heaven, the battle among the stars; it was now the beginning of the end. Taking a deep breath, Amon Akatok steadied his aged and bejeweled writing hand and studied his long elegant fingers which were adorned with diamond and ruby rings. He would complete the task ordained by the priests and elders. Amon Akatok Hotek would explain the past, the present, and the future so that future generations would understand the ticking of the great cosmic clock which always foretold the future by repeating the past. Amon Hotek focused his mind's eye and through concentrated thought picked up his etching pin, a gift from the Huxtl-tepas. Lovingly, he rubbed a crooked bejeweled finger across the golden metal tablet and the Huxtl-tepa's crystals embedded in its surface. In a dream he had been given him a final task: Prepare the civilizations of the future for the end of all time: Tell them of the cosmic circle of eternal recurrence by chronicling the "signs." Preserve the wisdom, science, history, and cosmic calendar of the Axtyl, Atlantos, and Lcoatza peoples and those who lived on the far side of the Eastern and Western seas! The chronicles would be preserved in the imperishable stones and golden magma metals of the Huxtl-tepas! But how to make the children of the future understand destiny? Would they believe the destruction and renewal of civilization could be determined through the observation of the stars? Could they comprehend that the movement of sun, and the Earth as they made their journey through the heavens and the houses of the 12 gods, foretells the future? Words and picture writing were not enough. Within the pictures that speak, talking-pictures which he had impressed upon the crystals, Amon inserted a second universal language that would be understood by the truly adept: The language of numbers! Beneath his feet, the earth rattled and groaned. Burning crimson stones fell from the sky, pounding and pummeling the city and the ancient stone Temple of the Sun. Amon Akatok Hotek closed his mind to the chaos. Taking his writing tool in hand he gazed down at the speaking images he created in the moments before the last quake scattered his bejeweled golden manuscripts: "And there appeared a great wonder in heaven: A woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars: And she being with child cried travailing in birth and pained to be delivered." The woman was the god, Virgo, whose house had ruled the summer solstice for 2160 years. Shaped like a cup, a holy grail, and residing in the Eastern sky, Virgo was one of the 12 great gods who ruled the outer circle. And now the goddess was dead. She passed on giving birth to the serpent, the feathered water dragon, the bastard son of Aquarius, who in turn had overthrown her husband, the god Pieces, whose house had ruled the Winter Solstice. The House of Pieces overthrown by Aquarius. The unchaste Virgin chased from the heavens by the untamed Lion who now ascended her throne. And then there was the serpent god, Quoatl, who emerged from the outer reaches of the inner circle to attack the minor gods every 12,960 years. Circles within circles, 12 and again 12, the two faces of the cosmic clock. Amon Akatok Hotek, casting the words from the surface of his mind, wrote: "And there appeared another wonder in heaven: And behold a great red dragon having seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns upon his head. And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven and did cast them to the Earth." Again the earth quaked and quaked again, and yet more of the great city toppled in ruins. Amon Akatok Hotek gazed upward through the shattered windows, and watched as the serpent god Quoatl snaked across the lightning seared sky, spitting ruby red blood and trailing crimson oceans that gleamed like an endless river of fire. Quoatl, the terrible dragon, would soon devour the eye of the sun, while lashing the Earth with oceans of ice and blood. Then during the darkest coldest hours, Quoatl would feast upon the frozen flooded Earth. With writing tool held firmly in his mind's eye, Amon Akatok Hotek, Grand Visor to the Sun God, Tektol Qa, Incaz of the Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the Eastern and Western Seas, created a map of the 12 sky gods. Next he created the rising and setting sun, in orientation to Atlantos, the Great City of the Sun and its three Great Temples. Next he outlined "the road of the gods;" a map of the heavens on earth as mirrored in the layout of the city. Inserting each mental image into the Huxtl-tepla crystals, Amon patiently detailed the base of the three Temples which were aligned to the three belt stars of the constellation of Orion, the king of the underworld; Orion, of the fifth dynasty, which ruled before the last cycle of destruction, 13,000 years before Amon's time, during the last Golden Age when the true god-kings had come from the heavens to reign over the Earth. It was these wise and wonderful god-kings of the fifth dynasty, which first directed and designed the creation of the temples, to mark the beginning and the end of each Golden Age. Thus the Temples of the Sun were oriented in a southwest--northeast axis to point to the rising sun on the day of the summer solstice which for 2160 years had been ruled by the Virgin. The smaller temples of Atlantos, were erected on an east-west axis and faced the rising sun on the day of the winter solstice which had been ruled by the twin Gods of the fish. It has been 12,960 suns, since the last cycle of destruction. After the last cataclysm, almost all from that golden period, the great wonders, the flying machines, the crystal cities, the great libraries, and the knowledge and wisdom of that era, had been almost completely destroyed, eradicated and lost; relegated to fantasy and myth, and nearly been forgotten, It had been the end of the true Golden Age when heroes and God-Kings wisely ruled the Earth. Amon and the other Elders and priests, even with their great wisdom and mental powers and possession of the great calendars, understood little from the time of the god-kings, and the last Golden age. The mind of man has lost its cutting edge, Amon lamented. We hardly understand the Ancients. Amon pondered: Would the children of the future understand the significance of the two crossings each solar year? How twice each year the sun appeared to stop its movement, before reversing course? Amon created an image of the solstices--the "sun standing still"--superimposed on the Temple. The Temple of the Sun had been erected during the reign of Virgo. Thus on the day of the solstice, the longest day of of the year, the sun appeared to rise in the house of Virgo, filling her loving cup with life nourishing light. The smaller temples of Atlantos, faced the winter solstice and on the shortest day of the year, the sun appeared to rise in the house of Pieces. He next created the face of the cosmic clock. The sun was the keeper of time, his golden arms ticking away for all eternity, determining the future, by the past. For over 2000 years the hours were fixed on the Virgin and the twin gods of the fish. Hail Virgo! Hail Pieces! As foretold by the ancients, each time these two Gods ascend the throne of heaven, the dawn of a new Golden Age would begin: "Now the Virgin returns, the reign of Pieces returns, now a new generation descends from heaven on high. Only do thou, pure Virgo, smile on the birth of the Golden Age, under whom the iron brood shall first cease, and a golden race spring up throughout the world!" Yes, Virgo the virgin gave birth to a new age: A golden age of science and wisdom, in which mankind had become almost god-like, again. Now it was the hour of chaos: It was the new age of the untamed devouring Lion, the new age of Aquarius the god of impenetrable deep waters. And the age of chaos, of Quoatl, the great dragon. The catastrophic age of the water god and the lion had begun. Chaos would reign for 2160 years. The Golden age would again, be relegated to myth and fantasy. All would be forgotten, yet again. And then, 12,000 suns from now, the cycle would repeat itself: A new Golden Age, ushered in by the Virgin and the twin gods of the fish. Circles within circles. Eternal recurrence. Destiny was written in the stars. The future determined by the past, the sun acting to count down the hours to each new age and the birth and death of every god: the end of every beginning, and the beginning of every end. As Amon and the other priests well knew, the cosmic clock-like cycle of the Earth's orbit around the sun, gave rise to the illusion of the sun rising in the house of a different god every 30 days. Each year, however, the arms of the clock would slowly tick backward, moving a full 30 degrees every 2160 suns. Thus, every 2160 years, the sun would rise in the house of a different god during the summer and winter solstice and equinox. Amon labored to impress his thoughts within the crystals, making images that speak: The Earth orbits from west to east, in a counter-clockwise direction, he explained. Thus the sun appears to move in a counter-clockwise direction, such that the hands of the solar precessional clock also move backwards: Libra, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Gemini, Taurus, Aries, Pisces, Aquarius... Thus, 4320 years ago, the hands of the winter solar clock pointed at Aries, the god of the Ram, whereas the summer solstice was ruled by Libra. And then, 2160 years ago the hands of the winter solar clock pointed toward Pisces, the twin gods of the fish, whereas the summer solstice was ruled by the Virgin. And now that time has come to an end and Aquarius the god of raging waters shall rule the winter solstice and the Lion shall devour the Earth. And in 12,960 years, Pieces will rule not the winter, but the summer, and Virgo the winter, and with the death of these two gods, Aquarius and he lion would ascend the throne, and chaos would envelop the earth yet again. The priests called the backward movement of the hours "precession" which in turn had a repetitive, clock-like predictability: Every 12,960 years Pieces and the Virgin would again become the rulers of heaven, and after 2160 suns, they would again abdicate their reins, dethroned by Aquarius and the Lion. Every 12,960 years Quoatl would return from beyond the farthest stars of the inner circle. And with Quoatl's return there would be a war in heaven and the 2160 year long Golden age ushered in by Pieces and Virgo, would come to an end. These heavenly wars ended the last Golden Age, and now, as predicted, the wars had begun yet again. Quoatl had already defeated the red God of war, Huxtl-tepla, and now the Earth would again suffer the wrath of that terrible serpent, the bastard offspring of the gods. And yet, as Amon knew, in the next cycle, when another 12,960 years has passed, the age of destruction would be even more terrible...a confluence of catastrophes that would not only strike down arrogant man as he strived to yet again become god, but eradicate and erase the human race from the planet's face. In the next cycle, the Earth would suffer Huxtl-tepla's fate. Again the earth rattled, quaked, and rolled, turning yet more of the broken city into riot and ruin. And now, as torrential rains beat and drummed upon the flooded, quaking grounds, a great shadow began to fall across Atlantos, the city of the Sun. Quoatl was eating at the sun. As the earth groaned a frigid ill wind, and a moist, red stench, streaked throughout the broken Temple, snaking beneath Amon Hotek's thick, richly embroidered golden and purple robes and his jade, diamond and emerald encrusted leopard dress. Though his thick royal robes were laced tightly to his thin, stooped shoulders and narrow waist by a series of gold and jade buckles, Amon shivered from the unwelcome cold. Amon summoned, with his mind's eye, his servant-wife, and instructed her, with picture thoughts, the specifics of his needs. Not entirely to his surprise, she failed to reply, her mind closed tight to shut out the terror and fear. With the tendrils of his mind he touched her, and experienced the blackest of black fear. Her mind was a boiling cauldron of panic and frozen despair. Conjuring forth her image, he could see her, crouched and huddled with the others, in the subterranean galleries, shaking, trembling, and mumbling prayers to the gods. Reaching deep within her brain, he stroked her with his thoughts, soothing, calming, and then, commanding with his mind's eye. She would obey. The earth rolled and rumbled, and the great temple creaked and threatened to tumble, but as commanded, she emerged in the great hall. Bowing and bowing again, she approached him, swaying, tripping, trying not to fall, with panicked eyes cast to the floor. The garments he requested were clenched tightly in her outstretched and shaking hands. Quickly he robed himself in leggings and tunic which were embroidered with cosmic symbols and complex geometric designs. The divine patterns and mystical symbols swirled about two jaguars who crouched to the left and right of a golden sun that shone from the center of his chest. Over his shoulders he threw a heavy woolen cape decorated with the faces of the 12 great gods. Yet, even though robed in royal splendor and with the insignia of the gods, there was no escape from the frigid black winds and the wet crimson residue of the icy blood red rains which rattled and chilled his old bones. Amon shivered, and creating picture thoughts, silently commanded his servant-wife to attend to the waning fires that flickered in their respective heaths. Amon shivered and shivered again, for even with his mind's eye, he could not generate sufficient heat. It was all he could do to keep himself standing upright, attending to his god-given tasks, and defying the rocking and rolling beneath his feet. Again he focused his mind's eye, creating words and talking pictures within the glowing crystals and golden-magma metals. Quoatl, he explained, was not truly a god, but a moon-sized outcast that followed an extreme elliptical orbit, journeying far beyond the inner circle. And every 12000 years Quoatl was cast out of the distant heavens, and sent spiraling toward the inner circle of the planetary gods, careening close to Unus, Aquatune, Earth and Venus, and almost colliding, this cosmic cycle, with Huxtl-tepla, the red god of war. For the last three cycles of the moon, after defeating the red god Huxtl-tepla, and stripping the god of his skin and cloak, the great glowing crimson serpent snaked ever onward through the heavens, growing larger and closer to the Earth, trailing the skin and oceans of the red god in his wake. The serpent God was terrifyingly beautiful to behold. And then, as it seemed the dragon would swallow up the Earth, Quoatl turned away and the people rejoiced. It was a "sign" the Grand Incaz proclaimed, of the new golden age. It was a "sign" of the the Grand Incaz's divinity and favor with the gods. Amon Akatok Hotek did not rejoice, for he did not believe the divine Incaz's lies. Amon and the elders well knew the war in heaven had just begun. The red god was dead and the great dragon would soon tear out the eye of the sun, turning the Earth into a land of frozen water and ice. Quoatl had already begun to lash the Earth with oceans of freezing red rain and mud. First the eye of the sun, and then the earth would freeze and drown in the icy oceans of Huxtl-tepla blood. Yes, Huxtl-tepla had been stripped naked, and it was Huxtl-tepla oceans, air, rivers and streams that trailed behind Quoatl, creating the great dragon's serpentine tail. The serpent god, though he had turned away, now lashed and lashed again at the troubled Earth with his great watery tail, Huxtl-tepla blood. And with the frigid red rains monstrosities were falling from the sky. Crimson snakes and white frogs with a dozen eyes, two-headed blue worms with glowing red wings, green snails with purple tongues, yellow flying fish with fingers and legs, and all manner of reptilian creatures and horrifying monstrosities...for three days they had rained down from the heavens. Great and small they had stormed and fallen upon the Earth -incredible creatures the likes of which had never before been seen by Amon and the peoples of Axtyl and Lcoatza...creatures unknown to the bearded ones, the men of ebony, amber, and niger, and those of the three pyramids, of Agypt, across the Great Eastern Sea. "It is the blood of Quoatl, a crimson tide flowing from the many wounds suffered during the cosmic war with the god Huxtl," so proclaimed the Grand Incaz. And this the people believed for had not the Great War between the Gods been seen by all? "Quoatl is dying and will soon be dead," the Grand Incaz proclaimed, and the people rejoiced, because the Incaz was divine. Yet the elders and the priests did not believe; they said that the Divine Incaz lied. The Incaz wished only to soothe the people, and had falsely proclaimed the serpent god's coming demise. That very morning, the Grand Incaz had stood before the people, preaching through his mind, that this trial of tribulation would be followed by a new golden era of knowledge and wisdom...a rebirth that would follow their baptism in blood... so proclaimed the Incaz. And this too, the people believed, for before the war in heaven enveloped the earth did not the jar people, the giants of Huxtl-tepla, appear from the sky, bearing gifts and the science and wisdom of the Gods? Did not titanic black shining metal monsters, flying, crawling metallic monstrosities, herald their coming? Lies. All lies. Falsehoods meant to calm the people. Amon Hotek knew well that these bearers of knowledge were not from Quoatl, but from Huxtl-tepla, the red god of war. They had fled the god of the inner circle, which was even smaller than the Earth, because Quoatl, the god of the snake, had struck a mortal blow. So grievous were Huxtl-tepla's wounds that his cries had echoed across the star studded seas of space. The terrible bellowing screams of the dying Huxtl-tepla had driven his panicked-stricken people, the chosen few, to the Earth where they hoped to hide and survive. But most of the Huxtl-tepla peoples, Amon knew, had been left behind. They had died as Quoatl stripped their planet of its oceans and air and turned the god of war into a waterless, airless desert of rusting red dust. Amon knew it mattered not what the Incaz said, for even if his people had ears to hear, it would have turned out all the same. Nothing could be done. The elders and priests, with the power of their combined mind's eyes, could not defeat the dragon. The Huxtl-tepa's, the giant jar people were also helpless were they not? Amon well knew that despite their scientific wonders and technological wizardry, the Huxtl-tepa had not won the war in Heaven, the battle among the stars. They could not escape the cosmic chain that had destroyed god's and kingdom's ancient and near and far. Was not the blood of Quoatl in fact the skin of the red God? Did not Huxtl's life blood, his oceans and his seas, trail shamefully behind the great dragon who had been cast out of Heaven? Was this not why the giant Huxtl-tepas fled to Earth? And now the red god was dead, stripped of his oceans and his skin which trailed behind Quoatl. Huxtl-tepla's great crimson oceans and ruby seas had become the tail of the snake and even now were falling to Earth. Huxtl-tepla had become a frozen red desert, bereft of human and animal life, and in 12,960 suns, the Earth would become the same--consumed by man-made fires and stripped of oceans, air, and life. Yes, Amon nodded sagely, destiny could not be altered. The heroes and God-kings of the last Golden Age had foreseen the future, but to no avail. The Huxtl-tepas could not prevail. Even the "chosen few" would not escape the cosmic tides of eternal recurrence. Like their dead god, the surviving Huxtl-tepas and their great wisdom, would also die, for giants were not meant to walk the Earth. It was as predicted by the Great Cosmic Codicil, the calendar of 12,960 suns, and verified by his own calculations and those of the wizards of Agypt -from the land of the three pyramids. The war in heaven, the battle of the stars had all been foretold by the movement of the sun. Destiny was determined by the stars and the hours of the cosmic clock, dictating what the future would bring by what had happened, twice now, in humanity's ancient and forgotten past. Yes, they had been warned, but to no avail. Chaos, thy name is Quoatl! The ancient priests had written: "This is the one that made the Earth to tremble, that did to shake kingdoms. That made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities. But beware and rejoice not because the rod of his that smote thee is broken: for out of the serpent's root and of his fruit shall be a fiery flying dragon." Quoatl, the bringer of light, would be cast out of the Great God's outer heavenly realm yet again and again, to wrack havoc upon the lesser gods of the inner circle for all eternity and to destroy the last of men. Eternal recurrence. And as predicted, the earth was now enveloped in yet another heavenly war. It had all been foretold by the ancients, and the cosmic clock. And all had come to pass, as had been foretold. And now Quoatl, the great dragon would consume them all! "Woe, Woe Woe" Amon moaned. The end of time and days was upon them, and all would be forgotten. Forgotten! And then forgotten yet again. Knowledge, wisdom, science and civilization, the great achievement of Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, Agypt, Indra, and Zhina, and even the Huxtl-tepla's would be forgotten and become myth. Amon sighed helplessly. All might be lost and would be forgotten, and this was perhaps the greatest sin. Amon knew well that five thousand suns would pass before the darkness of barbarism would cease and the cycle of renewal and rebirth would begin anew. Another five thousand suns before men of science would again reach for the stars and planets in search of knowledge and wisdom. "Ten thousand years... an age of darkness," Amon Akatok Hotek cried with despair. For it was as the Great Chronicles predicted. And then, the future: The age of Aquarius and the cycle of destruction would come full circle and the earth would be attacked yet again; but the next time the end would include the end of man. Circles within circles, clocks within clocks, and in 12,960 years, Virgo and Pieces would again end their rein, with Pieces abdicating rule not of the winter solstice, but the summer. With the Virgin abdicating not the summer, but the winter. The Lion and the water god, Aquarius, would again unsurp the thrones of heaven. Quoatl would again return from the outer edges of the inner circle to wage war upon the earth and the lesser gods. Chaos every 12,960 years. Destiny could not be altered. But fate could be mastered by men. Amon again worked the bejeweled crystals, in order to explain the past to the children of the future. Through Amon and the knowledge contained in the crystals, the peoples of the future could become masters of their fate. Outside the black winds roared, the Earth heaved and huge blocks of stone, dislodged by the quake, shattered upon the temple floor. Billowing dust blew through the broken halls. And then the Earth heaved and shook again, and yet more buildings fell and sank into the rising rivers and the crimson sea of blood and ice. Amon Hotek, covered with dust, steadied himself and gazed grievously through the shattered windows at the remnants of the great and broken city, its many monuments, arches, temples, and statues toppled and in ruins. Amon put his hands to his head, his ears assailed by the piteous and wretched screams of the doomed and dying. Yet the cries were so many, he could not block out their screams and moans even with his mind's eye. The Great Temple had not been spared. Huge blocks of cut stone, and broken statues of household and Temple gods, lay helter skelter in pieces great and small upon the layers of silk, gold, and jaguar that carpeted the marble halls. Amon gazed sorrowfully at the wreckage. Lost. All was lost. He steadied himself as the Earth heaved again and yet again. The Great Temple now leaned and swayed. The rising waters, Amon realized, were eating away at the great foundation of the Temple of the Sun, turning the earth into a bloody, oozing mud. Soon, soon it would be time to take refuge. With his family and faithful servants he would hide in the sealed subterranean galleries now stocked with books, the precious bejeweled golden manuscripts, and a profusion of food, water, and oil for light. He knew he should not delay another day or all his precautions and plans would be lost and to no avail. Yet, although he and his family might survive, Atlantos, his city, his nation, his people, their glorious achievements and civilization, all would be lost, forgotten by the future and relegated to what the ignorant called myth. It was as predicted by the chronicles, by the unalterable unchanging cosmic cycle of eternal recurrence. Unless, unless...he mused, his warnings and his wisdom would survive and someday be understood by the children of the future...Yes, he said, silently to himself, as he glided his fingers across the knowing crystals and the golden manuscripts. The future was in peril, and he held the future in his hands. He had to make them understand. Amon's mind and fingers flew over the precious stones, creating pictures that spoke, and numbers that would understanding evoke: what had transpired so many times so long long ago, would begin again and again, anew. A great war in heaven, another battle among the stars, again and again in 12,000 suns, repeating itself in a great cosmic circle. The heavens would again be wracked by planetary battles, and stars would fall from the sky, the peoples of the future blotted out for all eternity, destroyed, by hellish man-made fires and yet another serpentine war and flood. Amon Hotek sighed and hung his noble head in sadness. Were his efforts to be in vain? Would the peoples of the future perish despite the bejeweled metallic plaques he had so carefully prepared? He sighed again. Was it not inevitable? Amon's pale green eyes wondered eastward where a plume of thick black smoke billowed and mushroomed, erupting from the gaping yaws of the sacred mountain of Atlantos. The burning blood of the trembling, fire spitting mountain threatened to swallow the Huxtl-tepa temple, just as the whole Earth would drown in Huxtl-tepa blood. Axtyl, Atlantos, Lcoatza, and the bearded ones, the men of ebony, niger and amber, those of the three pyramids, of Indra, Zhina, and the peoples of the Eastern and Western seas, all would become as if they never were and had never been, swallowed by the rising seas. They would freeze and drown in the icy crimson tides that formed the tail of the dragon god Quoatl; the frozen cities and great kingdoms destroyed by flood and ice and quaking Earth. And then would come the age of darkness and the long winter as Quoatl would surely completely tear out the eye of the sun; and the long winter would not end until Quoatl was captured and flung again to the outer circle by that Great Star, the Sun. Amon Hotek gazed with satisfaction at the bejeweled metallic plaque. Despite the quaking, rolling earth, it was almost complete. And then he would thwart those bedazzled by greed, those ignorant of the wisdom of the stones, by secreting the bejeweled tablet in the great Huxtl-tepa temple. According to their calculations, Amon had less than 24 hours before the flood, the great darkness, and the end of time. And now, with a final flourish of his mind's eye it was done. The chronicles and the history would be preserved! Mercifully, the rumbling, jarring motion of the earth began to wane, and the torrential rains to slow. Yet Amon Akatok Hotek knew it was but a brief respite, for the rains, and trembling and rolling of the earth did not fully cease. It would soon quake and quake again and the cities of the earth would all completely fall. And then, something touched his mind. A warning. What was it? Amon Akatok Hotek, steadied his aged body and waited with baited breath. The earth had ceased to groan, the rains had ceased to fall, and a great quiet, a terrible suffocating silence had enveloped the Temple of the Sun. The great quiet! An impenetrable silence. For the first time, Amon was afraid. And then, the Earth began to tremble, then to rattle and rumble. Amon inhaled and held his breath, his aged bejeweled hands gripping his ancient desk, waiting, waiting, waiting... And then the ground heaved and rolled crazily as if a great terrible serpent slithered beneath the earth... and then there was a titanic gut wrenching spasmodic heave and roar, and then another and another. Amon Akatok Hotek, his instruments and metallic documents, were thrust into the air and tossed to and fro bouncing from wall to crumbling wall, like leaves in a storm. And the Temple began to sway and tumble, and then the temple walls began to crash and crumble...falling, falling... crushing him beneath tremendous broken slabs of stone. ....and as his life began to ebb and fade away, and as womanly screams, fading pleas and desperate dying cries echoed miserably through the tumbling halls and his dying brain, Amon Akatok Hotek wept and cried; not for pain, but at the searing, wrenching realization that he had failed, and that the bejeweled golden slate, like his broken body, would be forever lost and forgotten, entombed for all eternity, beneath the sea, in this shattered monument to the gods, and unalterable destiny.
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