The Last Christmas On Earth

EPISODE IV-8

He raised his head a few millimeters and saw before him the top of the Pyramid of the Sun silhouetted against the immense and round moon. He stuck his eyes sideways and finally found his Susy, lying next to him with her elbows touching his, in a contact that neither of them could feel. Ivan noticed the small wound behind Susan's neck and the trickle of blood that was dripping behind the hollow of her shoulder and then he understood why he had lost sensitivity. Someone had severed a part of their spinal cord with surgical precision, taking care to leave intact only the portion of nerve bundles that regulate the primary functions of each organism, heartbeat, and respiration. Susan's bewildered gaze gave him a wave of pure terror and with it the certainty that was the beginning of their end. The litany increased in intensity and the priests tightened the circle around the sacrificial altar until they entered Ivan's field of vision. He sent the order to move again to his muscles, but the impulse got lost on the way. Susy begged him with her eyes to do something and he tried to tell her something reassuring, but his lips remained tight as if they had been glued to each other. The deep sound of a gong echoed in the air and immediately after the High Priest left the shrine which dominated the apex of the temple. Even his robe originally must have been white, but over time it had become rust-colored due to the dried up blood of the hundreds of sacrifices performed over the centuries. The Quetzacoatl mask was of solid gold, studded with rubies and emeralds which at every slightest movement lit up with a thousand reflections. The god approached the altar pronouncing incomprehensible words with his arms extended upwards; his hands held two daggers with a curved and very sharp blade, embellished with a diamond set in the handle. Deprived of the feeling of having a physical body, Ivan began to feel almost like ethereal, as if made only of pure spirit, he perceived his senses and his sensations and nothing more. A sudden rage of anger crossed him at the thought that those men would wreak havoc on his Susy before his eyes, without being able to do anything, and in a millionth of a second, all the questions and regrets of a lifetime sailed through his mind. In the end, he tried to be optimistic by saying that they probably would not have suffered at least. He was running out of time, with an inhuman effort he managed to turn his neck a little to rest his eyes on those of his beloved, with the intention of capturing his gaze for the entire eternity. Quetzacoatl had already arrived in front of them in his slow gait continuing to recite prayers tracing indecipherable signs in the air with his draggers. Susy watched Ivan with her eyes for a moment longer, then smiled and immediately lost consciousness, overcome with emotion. Ivan thanked God for this blessing and asked him to make him faint immediately too, but his plea was not heard. The High Priest was now upon them and had begun to lower the blades towards their breasts. The sharp sound of his own torn skin reached straight into his brain as he watched helplessly, incredulously and even curiously, at what they were doing to him.

He realized that the High Priest was making ritual incisions, a few moments later he saw him raise his own dripping heart and the one of his Susy upwards to join them against the milky background of the sky. Ivan saw that they were still throbbing and took comfort thinking that at least they would remain embraced forever, just as they wanted to be. A moment later, everything grew dark for him. The priests began to sing their litany again and Quetzacoatl placed inside a wooden casket the hearts, which from time to time continued to contract in an automatic spasm. Subsequently, he cleaned the daggers by rubbing them against a strip of his robe and laid them down with solemn gestures in the same box. The ritual sacrifice was concluded, the priests returned to the shrine reciting a prayer of thanksgiving and carefully rested their masks and ceremonial garments in some niches carved in the stone, then they all went out and patiently waited for a command of Pedro Ayala, the High Priest. He put the casket back in the recess dedicated to Quetzacoatl and devoted a heartfelt invocation to it, then checked one last time that everything was in perfect order. On exiting, he exerted a slight pressure on one of the stone blocks placed next to the architrave, a wall ran sideways to close the secret room.

"Soon we will have the response of the Oracle," he announced gravely, then started down the staircase dotted with sculpted snakeheads.

The day after their arrival at the Nellis base, the members of the Team had undergone a brief but intense psychophysical training. After that stage, they had finally had access to what their kingdom would be like in the coming days and upon entering there they felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland. The laboratory occupied a small portion of the beating heart of the military installation, built by excavating tunnels and caverns in the living rock below ground level. The block developed on different levels, the floor, reserved for them, was part of the super protected strip because down there retro engineering studies were carried out on a large amount of material of alien origin owned by the US Army. The program involved the realization of experiments related to antigravity, space-time distortions, and many other things even remotely imaginable from the simple minds of ordinary people. The design of the Crystal House had been commissioned a few weeks earlier to the architect Summerfield without letting him know its actual designated use. At the end of a fought brainstorming among the scientists, it had been christened "The Studio" and housed the hibernation capsule containing the Grey, the last living alien belonging to the "Greys" race owned by the US Army. That day, once all the preparations had been completed, some technicians had worked on the push-button panel installed on the metal edge of the lid of the capsule until a tiny bluish light had turned on.

The technicians had left the room and the LED had continued to change color according to a well-defined sequence until, at the end of a countdown that had seemed endless, the lid of the capsule had finally risen. It was one of the most important events in the history of the whole of humanity, yet what was happening was known only by a small group of people relegated to a kind of remote super-technological hell on the edge of the world. The Team had witnessed the fact immersed in an unreal silence, holding their breath and trying to impress in their memory every single instant and, perhaps, only then they had succeeded in fully understanding their privileged condition and the immense responsibility that derived from it. The event was announced only by a very brief and very slight hiss, then the chrome-plated lid of the capsule had risen as if by magic, releasing a small puff of dust that dispersed outside.

"Probably it is the organic residue generated by the natural processes of renewal of the most superficial epidermal layer of the subject," Lia Robson supposed, and Evan Carbel gaped at her as if she had spoken Chinese.

"Dry skin," Viewer came to his aid, and Carbel smiled sheepishly. The probes responsible for monitoring the vitals and biometric functions of the Alien were introduced inside the capsule by means of a remote guidance system, a ringing sound announced that the subject was alive and Professor Hamilton clenched his fists in an imperceptible gesture of exultation. Scholars began to look impatiently at the shots transmitted by the many cameras placed inside the Studio, many of them focused in particular on the close up on the being that still laid in the capsule. The cameras zoomed in on the details of the Grey's body and one of the monitors postponed the very slight trembling of the eyelids and that of a finger of his right hand, a long and thin finger up to capacity. Over time, the chest began to dilate and contract more and more regular and wider, the scientists judged it an excellent sign and began to congratulate each other by exchanging hugs and large slaps on the back.

The hard training and the close cohabitation, combined with the common thirst for knowledge, had helped to cement the group quickly, making it strong and cohesive. Only Dr. Abel Parker had stood on the sidelines all the time, completely indifferent to that little miracle they had just witnessed as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Indeed, for an instant, Carl Viewer had the impression that their exultation had even annoyed her. The President had not been able to physically attend, but he had monitored the event remaining connected by videoconference. He congratulated them and hoped that this was only the first of a very long series of successes, even if in reality the difficult one was still to come. After about an hour, the Alien opened his eyes and immediately half-closed them again: after years of absolute inactivity, they were not used to bear lights.

"Hurry! Dim the lights" Professor Hamilton ordered the specialist in home automation who was in charge of managing the crystal house.

He hastened to obey, but the Alien closed his eyes and at that point, everyone understood that the wait could last for hours or even days, so everyone patiently returned to his seat and sought an occupation to deceive the waiting. Viewer challenged Dr. Eagle to the naval battle, Wayne pulled a miniature set for checkers out of his coat pocket and invited Litterman to play, Riise got busy with the PC and Carbel devoted himself to stretching. Finally, after long playing hard to get, the Alien opened his eyes again and this time he managed to keep them open a little longer. He looked around confused until he noticed the straw hanging right above his head, flanked by a slightly naive drawing placed there to make him understand that it was for drinking. He seemed to think about it for a while, finally, he decided and sucked a small sip of demineralized water, snatching other enthusiastic cries from the scientists. Just a minute later, however, he seemed to fall asleep once more.

"Damn, he slept almost seventy years and it's still not enough," Summerfield muttered.

"Yeah ... and now how we spend the time? I have run out of ideas ..." Lia said.

"We could start by giving him a name," Margareth suggested timidly. The others turned to look at her, perplexed, unable to determine if she had really spoken or if she had only joked.

"Miss Turner is right, that being still has no name!" Exclaimed Dr. Eagle.

All of them engaged in giving their contribution in the search for a nickname that fitted perfectly. After an almost bloody battle, it was decided by the majority that from that moment on the Alien would be called "Willy". Another hour passed and Willy, continuing to keep his eyes closed, began to try to gradually move some parts of his rusty body from that ten-year immobility. He began moving his fingers first, and they could see how much pain he was feeling by seeing his small mouth, almost practically non-existent, in a grimace of suffering, and everyone ran to pinch his nose against the security glass wall to watch that show closely. But shortly afterward they got disappointed, they had understood that to get out of that bed Willy could have taken even weeks and that prospect was certainly not encouraging.