The Last Christmas On Earth

EPISODE V-6

"Okay ... I admit that the possibility I am wrong exists, but if my brain has not gone completely into jelly, I would swear that those two were quietly walking inside the Base in the company of a very important person ... it was the reason I was impressed with."

"... and who would that person be?"

"The President himself," Andy replied.

"You must be wrong," said James, frowning.

"It's possible, but ... sorry if I'm indiscreet, but now that we're dancing, let's dance, I just hope you don't get offended," Andy insisted uncertainly.

"What else is there, why should I be offended?" Replied James.

"Did your wife had any other marriages before marrying you?" Andy asked him point-blank, surprising him. James thought back to Luke's snapshot in which Dr. Parker was celebrating the Mass of her marriage with the old rich man, and he felt his guts turning over, then looked at him uncertainly.

"Of course not, why?" He lied. A slight tremor in his voice revealed that he was starting to get nervous. At first Mc January appeared from nothing, who seemed to have come with the purpose of bringing confusion in his life, now it was Andy's time.

"Maybe I will seem stupid, but among those three it seemed to me to catch a certain resemblance," said Andy without any delicacy.

"In the last few minutes you've been telling me a lot of nonsense," said James, resuming to walk.

"Anyway, I'm sorry if I tell you, but between the three of them, there was not just one that I liked," Andy insisted. Not knowing what to answer, James fell silent.

"I'm so sorry, but I really had to tell you, you know how I am," Andy justified himself, shrugging his shoulders, then decided to close the conversation there because he knew he was becoming unpleasant. Once again James did not answer, but he wondered why lately everyone had to raise doubts about his wife. And yet, when he had seen Eve and the others all talking together a little earlier, he himself had the very distinct feeling that he was witnessing something very similar to a family picture. "What if he is right?" He thought for a moment, but immediately afterward he forced himself to abandon the idea because it seemed too absurd. Arrived at the next banquet they toasted again, this time at Andy's new job, then exchanged their phone numbers and greeted each other.

"Damn you Luke Mc January, what the hell are we doing here!" Helen whispered looking around. She examined the curtains of every single window that faced the square, still undecided whether to open that door or not, then in a fit of unconsciousness, she put the key in the lock and clicked it. She slipped in, followed by Luke, leaned over to take another peek out and closed the door, then threw out her breath all at once.

"I'll give you five minutes, not one more!" she admonished Luke, repeating that it was crazy stuff: they had entered like thieves in there only because a mysterious contraption had emitted a hiss.

"Don't worry, there is nothing to be afraid of. Right now everyone's down at the marina for the Festival's opening," Luke assured her as if he had read her mind.

"Oh really? And if for any reason Dr. Parker now enters from that door what do you tell him?" She replied. He didn't answer, he had already begun to look around here and there.

"Don't touch anything," Helen scolded him, replacing an ornament he had just moved, and he snorted with dissatisfaction because he soon realized that there was nothing interesting in there.

"Let's go, we're just wasting our time," Helen said, seeing that he looked already tired and short of ideas.

"Wait a minute, the five minutes have not yet passed."

"But instead seven have already passed and moreover it is a wild goose chase!" She replied, tapping her forefinger on the clock face.

"I asked you to wait just a moment, there's something wrong here," he stumbled into thought.

"But what? Do you want to wait for someone to find us out here? Let's move, the trip is over," Helen insisted, starting at the door; she couldn't wait to get her feet out of there.

"Do you want to keep quiet for just one damn second?" Said Luke angrily, then went off to turn off the old radio that was playing a folk song in the background.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard it!" He asked when the silence was complete.

"What are you talking about?" Said Helen. Luke waved her to listen carefully.

"Here it is again, don't tell me you haven't even heard it now!"

"Yes, this time I heard it too. What is it?"

"I don't know, it's a shrill sound ... it resembles the sound of something scratching a wall," he considered, and immediately heard a very slight moan.

"Damn, we have to go out now!" Helen exclaimed, her heart suddenly leaped into her throat.

"Are you kidding? We risked the impossible and now that we've finally found something you want to leave?"

"Why? What do you think we should do instead?" Said Helen.

"It seems to me that the noises come from the floor below," he observed, concentrating and not answering her question.

"I've been here dozens of times, I guarantee you there is no downstairs," she said.

"That's what you think!" Luke retorted stubbornly, searching for a lift.

"Listen, I told you I want to leave," the woman insisted, but he ignored her protests and continued to walk around the room until he lifted a corner of a large ethnic-style rug and showed her a trap door. Helen's eyes widened in surprise.

"Let's go see," he said, lifting the lid.

"Forget it, I have no intention of getting caught by the doctor or by anyone else who is there!"

"But there is someone who is really sick, those we heard were real complaints!"

"That's right," Helen agreed, "and I don't have the slightest intention of finishing there myself too, to complain down there!" She pointed out.

"But we can't leave like this ..." Luke protested frustrated.

"But why do you want to be a hero right now? Go down there unarmed in that dark cavern to find out who is complaining, does it sound like a clever move?" Helen scolded him more irritated than ever.

"So what are you going to do? You're the Sheriff here, you can't turn a blind eye," he reminded her.

"I could try to get a warrant," she said.

"Are you serious?"

"Do you think I want to joke?"

"Then let's go now, I'll walk you."

"You will not accompany anyone and in any case, I must first talk to James about it."

"With James?" He echoed.

"Eve is his wife, it is right that he knows what I am going to do."

The Team's scientists were extremely skilled and down-to-earth people, so much so that until a few days before, none of them would have imagined that soon they would attend a similar show. What was happening in that underground cave sheltered from the eyes of the civilized world was grotesque and yet, paradoxically, down there it represented the most normal normality. Over the last few years, the debate on aliens had become increasingly heated and more and more space had been gained within each type of communication medium, and a large number of people now gave their existence for certain. Rivers of words and ink had been wasted on their alleged connections with the pyramids and with Atlantis, with the phenomenon of the Abductions and with that of the Crop Circles. Simple enthusiasts and real experts had fought around the most recurrent topics such as "are they good or bad?", Or "why are they coming here?", Or "what do they want from us?". And yet, no one had ever thought of asking: "but do you think aliens eat?", "Do they work?", "Do they go fishing?" Until that day the collective imagination had branded extraterrestrial beings simply as groups of gruesome beings that go around on their spaceships in the infinity of the universe, remembering from time to time, out of sheer delight, to make a detour down here. Even just simply to kidnap someone, cut him to pieces in order to study him, implant some microchips in his head and then bring him back to the ground with some misplaced wheel. Until then the aliens were thought of as a people or as a race that does these things, and not as mere individuals with conscience and autonomous behavior. And instead, at that moment Professor Hamilton and his Team were watching, with a silly expression on their face, the everyday behavior of a Grey-bred alien. And absurdly, the thing that surprised them more than any other was the fact that being, apparently so different from them, behaved in a perfectly human way and didn't do anything strange: he didn't sleep upside down and he didn't climb the walls, did not scream like crazy and did not drink from his ears or fingers. He did not become invisible nor did he try to take over their minds or dig into them, nor did he try to contact his own kind to trigger an invasion plan designed to conquer Planet Earth. He did not eat children or mice and, moreover, he used the bathroom exactly like a person. Under the eyes, however, still incredulous of Hamilton and his scientists, Willy was simply doing, day after day, what probably any human being in his situation would have done. Exactly as every other living being does after a long lethargy had daily begun trying to make his mind and body return efficient. So also that morning he climbed with difficulty on the exercise bike, suitably modified to obviate the problem of its very different proportions from the human ones, and switched on the monitor to have visual contact with Evan Carbel.

The latter was waiting for him sitting on his tool beyond the crystal wall, wrapped in tight red overalls and with an elastic band on his forehead to stem the sweat. Evan smiled at Willy and typed a sequence on the bike computer, Willy set the program and pressed the green button, and if he hadn't been without the opposition finger he would probably have sent an "ok" with his hand. They started pedaling, after a good half hour of warming they would have turned to exercise biceps and abdominals.

The coyotes had feasted on the poor bodies of the two chosen still bound on the sacrificial altar. In the days ahead, other animals would have provided to completely remove them, leaving only the bones intact. Only then Mitlontecutli, lord of the Place of the Dead, and his wife Mictlancihuatl, would pay tribute to them just to honor the service they had rendered to the entire Humanity by sacrificing their hearts. The two gods would have recited the Song of the Dead for them so that their souls would not get lost in the Underworld, then they would have given them a proper burial by transferring the remains to the ossuary. The great number of lamps that burned incense and perfumed oils were of no use, the wind carried the penetrating stench of decomposing flesh just under the nose of the old shaman who sat on the ancient sidewalk. He continued to meditate, indifferent to the terrible smell that seemed absolutely not to disturb him; he must have already lived through that situation so many times that he got used to it. The priests were reunited because it was time to listen to the words of the Oracle. After wearing the masks and sacred vestments, they had invoked the gods, all reciting the opening prayer together. The High Priest had opened the casket containing the two hearts and placed it gently at the foot of the base that held the Great Calendar, then joined the others. The gong resounded gloomily and the shaman set to work: he continued for a while to move on the floor colored shells and pebbles, and then terracotta statuettes and tiny wooden totems, meanwhile muttering incomprehensible words like a little girl playing with her dolls. When he had found a disposition that pleased him, he looked up and contemplated the celestial vault through a pure crystal ball, one big as a golf ball. Then he went before the Sunstone where he traced some ritual signs in the air, clutching an olive branch in his hand. Finally, he placed the crystal ball on the floor, which rolled along the slight slope until it invested the objects he had placed on the ground, knocking down someone and moving others. The shaman sat back and concentrated to fix the scene in his mind. After a few moments, his eyes rolled back and he fell into a trance.