The Last Christmas On Earth

EPISODE IV-3

"Excuse me, but I still don't get it ..." John Litterman intervened.

"You got it very well, it's just that you want to hear it from me, isn't it?" The professor replied.

"Let's put it this way," admitted the other, smiling.

"Alright then. As we mentioned earlier, it is no secret that the Solar System and life on planet Earth are going through a particularly difficult time: the negative signals are many and many are saying that the end of everything is getting closer and closer. Some people talk about electromagnetic storms that will shut down the entire "World system", others talk about meteorite impacts that will produce the same devastating effects of massive atomic explosions, many others talk about a sudden reversal of the Magnetic Poles and the sense of rotation of our planet, some even about the opening of the Stargate and consequently a possible interactions with parallel dimensions. If it is true that the aliens, as is increasingly believed, have inhabited the Earth in ancient times and know the history of the Universe much better than us, who can help us to understand these signals but one of them?"

"I understood that, but how would they do it?"

"We don't know how yet, but they have taught us many things then forgotten, such as how to build incredible monuments and how to write. Miss Turner's assignment will be to find a suitable code to communicate with the alien, it is our last card to play and we must play it well, because otherwise, we do not know what will remain of us all. This, even if personally, and I want to underline it, I am convinced that nothing bad will happen."

"I don't think it's going to be easy at all," Carbel objected, "who tells us that after all these years that being just hasn't become an old decrepit one? Aging is part of nature, isn't it? And how do we know that it will survive thawing? And then ..." he started to continue, but the President himself interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"We have been so blind and stupid that we have practically tortured and murdered five, it is true, but from each of these individual experiences we have learned a lot and I am sure that this time we will not fail. Look at you: in this room are gathered some of the most important minds on the planet; moreover, this time we have an important and consistent background on which we can work."

In that sunny late afternoon of December, a lot of people had decided to drop by Mike's Country Hole, to unwind drinking a pint of cold beer before heading home. Crossing the street, Helen saw Dr. Parker, he was sitting under a bus shelter not far from the entrance to the pub, and at first, he gave her the impression he was waiting for someone or something.

Immediately afterward, Helen said that he had probably simply taken refuge down there in search of a little shade and so she let him go. Bypassed the imposing decorated fir tree next to the entrance and slipped into the room followed by James. Two hippies were challenging each other in darts, a guy with a lumberjack shirt tortured the Juke Box keyboard to choose a record while a couple was playing to pinball. The few free tables were covered with empty mugs. Helen and James immersed themselves in the blanket of smoke with their hats pulled down over their eyes and they drove straight to the counter, barely answering a couple of greetings, they had no desire to socialize and feared that someone would ask them some embarrassing questions.

"Apparently with the Christmas tree you exaggerated this year too, I'm afraid we'll have to find you this time too," said James, taking a seat on the stool. The man leaning behind the counter closed the dishwasher door and pressed the green button, then turned and greeted them with a smile.

"You know I am a romantic and traditionalist one," he replied, showing him a Santa Claus costume he kept under the counter, "and I must say that this year I will miss so much the run with skates on the frozen lake," he added sincerely moved.

"I'm right when I say you're all mad," said James, shaking his head.

"It looks like someone needs his usual drinking here," Mike replied after wiping two tears with a napkin.

"I see you're running out of glasses, how about making it directly double to me?" Helen ordered.

"Please, me too," James said, "and also put a double portion of chips with lots of ketchup on it," he added. The barman served them two Buds enriched with a sketch of Southern Comfort, then paused to look at James.

"What are you looking at me, it won't be the first time I've come to get drunk here," he joked.

"It's not this ..." Mike replied thoughtfully as he filled the deep fryer basket with chips.

"Then what is it?" Insisted James.

"Nothing, forget it ..." the other said, smoothing his unkempt beard.

"What does it mean to forget it?"

"For once you look good, I don't want to ruin your evening," Mike justified himself by dipping the basket in hot oil.

"Come on, spit it out," James encouraged, looking at him seriously.

"... I don't know, to be honest, I don't even know if should tell you this."

"Mike, what the hell you're talking about?" James said, unnerved by his reticence.

"All right ... it's about your wife," Mike informed him without mincing words. Immediately afterward he reproached himself for his lack of delicacy.

"What has my wife done?" James asked stiffly.

"Don't worry, she hasn't done anything bad. But there is a guy who goes around asking questions about her, showing some of her photographs asking if anyone recognizes her."

"Does that guy have any photos of Eve?"

"That's right ... and the strange thing is that some of those photos are years old, but they look like they were taken yesterday. There are even some in black and white, but she looks exactly the same person as now."

"What do you mean "seems the same person" ?"

"What I said, compared to those photos, she doesn't seem to be aged by just one day."

"But how can you tell that the photos are old? Even if you are an old goat," said James," you should know that today there is a device called "computer" that can do this and much more."

"Those photos are not artificial ... you can tell from the quality of the print, from the clothes of the passers-by, from the models of the cars parked in the streets," he explained after having meditated for a few moments.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do you think I'm the guy who jokes about these things?"

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Ninety-nine point nine percent!"

"Where is it now?"

"Who, Eve?" Mike replied, earning a glare from Helen. James snorted, the urge to joke was all over him.

"That guy. When did he come here?" He asked.

"Late last night."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That I don't know that woman, it's obvious."

"Describe him to me."

"Tall and thin, green eyes, long sideburn, and Elvis banana. He wears black leather, he said to be a private investigator and he is a great drinker, he took out four pints of red beer in an hour. "

"Is he still nearby?"

"He's lodging with Sally, he said he'll stay until the end of the Lobster's Festival."

"I'm going to see him," James announced, jumping off his stool, gave the beer a couple of drinks and wiped his mouth with his forearm.

"Hey, the fries are almost ready," the barman protested.

"Keep them warm, I'll come back to eat them after I'll have given a lesson to that nosey parker," James replied, then invited Helen to accompany him.

"Please James, can't we go tomorrow?" Whoever that guy was, he said he'll stay here until the end of the Festival and for once I wanted to spend a quiet evening, "she replied staring him in his eyes, but she already knew that James's decision was irrevocable. "All this must be a damned, endless nightmare," she considered then, reluctantly descending from the stool.

It was a quiet evening, scented and calmed by the song of crickets. Pedro Ayala was tired due to the press conference and the trip but decided to lie down on his hammock for a few minutes to contemplate the sky, as usual. He stared fascinated and thoughtfully at the Constellation of the Dragon, meditating so intensely that his pupils became two black hollows that cut the iris vertically, assimilating them to those of a reptile. The frontal and temporal veins had become so swollen as to form a bead in relief resembling a real ridge, which crossed transversely through the eyebrow arch dividing the forehead into two perfectly symmetrical halves. He shifted his gaze to the Constellation of the Pleiades, within a few days The Seven Sisters would reach the Zenith of the heavenly vault and then resume their eternal journey, giving life to a new cycle. It was then time to go to the City of the Dead of Teotihuacan to prepare the New Fire Ceremony, which would take place on the summit of the Pyramid of the Sun. Pedro would have officiated it for the first time and the thought of what he should have done repelled him a little, but he would do it exclusively in the interest of the Aztec People, to propitiate the return of their God, the Feathered Serpent Quetzacoatl. He deeply hoped that this meeting would finally restore meaning to his life and to all the time he had spent preparing for that event, then after praying to his gods he took the small glass from the rush table placed next to the hammock and threw Mescal's brandy down in one gulp. He put a slice of lemon in his mouth, turned one last long glance at the stars as if to greet them and blew on the candles.

At the end of the meeting, Professor Hamilton had presented to the others every member of the group who had already baptized "the Team"; then he had broadly explained to each of them what was their task.

"Now that the presentations are over, I ask you really only five minutes to define one last thing, after which ..." he was saying when the President called him loudly. He gaped at him, because he couldn't believe he had been so rude as to interrupt him like that.

"I'm sorry to contradict you Professor Hamilton, but the presentations are not yet over," the President explained to him bluntly, pointing to the cyclopean woman who mysteriously appeared next to him. Through the semi-darkness of the room, Professor Hamilton sensed the woman's decisive features under the bob of blond hair, found the pale blue shimmering in her eyes too cold and he knew instantly he didn't like at all that person.

"Although I would have very much liked it, I won't be able to be one of you, but Dr. Abel Parker will accompany you, carrying out the mission with the task of keeping me updated on every single progress. In practice, she will be my eyes and my ears and she will have carte blanche ... I hope you don't mind," the President explained embarrassedly without looking at the professor.

He had to resort to all his self-control, he had a bad character and, even if the President of the United States of America himself had said it, that low blow hadn't pleased him at all. "I hope you don't mind!" He repeated in his head, looking at him upright from head to toe. "Of course I mind, I'm so pissed off! I spent whole nights studying dossiers, psychological profiles, curricula and lots of other things, in order to create a perfect staff, an infallible mechanism. I had even foreseen in advance who would leave the group before the end of the meeting and now there is a stranger who can alter the delicate balance of the Team with the result of overturning the entire project. A person who is potentially capable of destroying everything, our unique and precious opportunity" he thought. It was enough for him to look at her for just an instant to understand that her attitude of proud superiority would have represented a destabilizing element within the group. For a moment he considered whether it was appropriate to get out of there, because he was a man of one piece and did not tolerate interference of any kind, but then he told himself that he would not allow anyone to ruin everything and indeed, at the first opportunity he would kick her in the ass.