Chapter 36
Christmas
Becky’s restaurant was closed on Christmas day, but it wasn’t empty. Ms. Shelby, Camille, Becky and Linda were preparing the Christmas meal.
Haley and Chris were spending the day with his family in Wildwood, but Becky made sure their seats weren’t left empty. She convinced Steve and Linda to stay for the holiday.
Dan and his father considered themselves fortunate to be on the regular guest list. Becky said the meal was a Christmas gift to the people who helped her during the year, but she was being kind. The guest list also included Renee, Haley’s Uncle Auggie, and Mr. Pearson who was the widower from down the street. It would be safe to assume none of them would have enjoyed a proper Christmas meal if it were not for Becky. Her one request was the men wear a coat and tie.
Dan enjoyed a light breakfast with his father on Christmas morning. A traditional seat at the table was set for Mrs. Naidoo despite her having been dead for eight years. Ernie offered his never-ending Christmas prayer of thanks.
Dan asked why it was necessary for him to be so long-winded.
“Why don’t you say, ‘thank you for all the blessings?’ God already knows the specifics.”
Ernie answered, “God knows, but we forget. We are blessed each time we give thanks because it reminds us of what we have rather than what we have lost.”
His father’s words reminded Dan of a millionaire who had recently committed suicide when his company failed. Even after liquidation, the man still had a loving family and considerable assets, but he couldn’t see anything but the loss.
“If he had taken time to give thanks, he may have seen what was obvious to everyone else,” Dan thought.
Many people were like the millionaire after 9/11. The United States had lost its innocence, but was still a wonderful place to live. Becky refused to be gloomy and reminded everyone to focus on life’s blessings.
Dan and his father arrived at Becky’s before noon. Steve, Mr. Pearson, Renee and Uncle Auggie were already inside. Becky greeted them wearing a long green velvet dress, leading them past an exquisitely decorated ten-foot spruce Christmas tree on the way to the porch. It was midday and Dan lagged behind to enjoy the melody of Westminster Chimes echoing in the great room.
“How do you do it?” Ernie asked Becky in admiration.
“How do I do what?” Becky asked modestly with a heavy southern accent. She knew what he meant, but didn’t want to presume too much. Perhaps she wanted to hear him say it. If she wanted to hear the words, she may have been disappointed.
“All this,” Ernie gestured, looking around the room at the decorations. “And this,” he nodded up and down at her stunning dress, her carefully brushed hair and flawless makeup. “And this,” he turned as Linda, Liz (Ms. Shelby), and Camille paraded in with a ham, a turkey, and a sweet potato casserole. They were also dressed in elegant gowns.
Becky nodded to the other ladies and replied, “We’re a good team.” Uncle Auggie initiated applause and the other men joined in with a whistle from Renee and a “Bravo” from Mr. Pearson.
The meal began after Auggie offered a long toast, followed by an even longer prayer from Ernie. They ate too much, laughed until their sides hurt, and talked until their throats were dry.
The main topics of conversation were life at school and the trip to Australia. Mr. Pearson spent the afternoon lavishing Liz Shelby with extravagant compliments. His flirtations were entertaining, but it became obvious her affections were reserved for Renee.
Mr. Pearson eventually realized the futility of his efforts and was the first to leave at four o’clock. The other guests were preparing to leave when Haley and Chris returned from Wildwood.
By the time Haley finished telling several amusing Christmas stories describing Chris’ family, everyone was immersed in conversation again. Becky broke out the board games, and later insisted guests stay and share the leftovers.
Dan and Ernie helped clean up the mess at the end of the evening. It was midnight before they departed. Despite efforts to consume the remaining food, Dan and his father carried home generous portions of pecan pie, turkey and ham.
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As Dan prepared to return to school, he worried the mood would be melancholy. The Feds had officially cleared the Institute of wrongdoing in the 9/11 attacks, but a shadow of suspicion remained. Claude was also concerned and determined to steer the school in a positive direction.
The first day back was declared a day of celebration. It was an enormous party with celebrities and A-list musicians. Students were having fun, but there was another purpose for the events, attitude adjustment.
A long list of well-known motivational speakers inspired crowds from a temporary stage erected in the conservatory. Each student was given a simple assignment; “propose ways to improve the quality of life based on your field of study.” It forced them to focus on what they had and what could be done rather than what had been lost.
Most were getting back into the academic routine within a couple days, but Haley’s memories of a former life were distracting her. She had no idea what her dreams meant or what to do. They were no longer childish daydreams that could be disregarded, but vivid and sometimes frightening memories of events she couldn’t understand.
When she was recruited by her Uncle Auggie, he said “the Institute needs your help as an interpreter for the archeological study of the ancient Nina Nizhoni civilization.” He didn’t say anything about her being a queen. Maybe he didn’t know.
Regardless, Haley realized from the beginning that the ORION Institute was more than a school of archaeology. She had many unanswered questions, but was willing to overlook them in hope of uncovering her past.
The time for being polite was over. Haley needed answers and her attempted kidnapping raised even more questions. She had been patient long enough. It was time to confront Claude.
Haley entered Claude’s private office and closed the door. Her hair was glimmering with static electricity and her eyes were glowing through her contact lenses. Claude took a deep breath as he considered how much she looked like a Cobra preparing to strike.
“I don’t like being used,” she said.
“I didn’t lie to you Haley. I wasn’t sure you were ready.”
“Well, I’m ready now. I need to understand! I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Please have a seat.” Claude said. “This may come as a shock, but you are more than a descendant of the Nina Nizhoni people. You are the personification of Queen Mahu Kuwanlelenta. It means….” Haley interrupted him.
“I know what it means. The mythical queen who will bring balance to the Earth.” She paused, remembering her mother’s bedtime stories. “Was she a real person?”
“No,” Claude answered with a touch of sadness in his voice. “She was and is a product of genetic research and development. Despite their technological and biological advancements, the Nina Nizhoni civilization faded away. They tinkered with their genetics to the point of no return.”
“Then who am I?” Haley looked bewildered. “What am I?”
“You are the last hope of an extinct race, the pinnacle of their technology, and their gift to mankind. As misguided as it was, the Nina Nizhoni tried to become immortal. They almost succeeded through a method of self-cloning and a technique to preserve memories from one lifetime to the next.” Claude paused to choose his next words with care.
“What happened? Clearly, something went wrong,” Haley said as she grew impatient.
“They ran out of time. They wanted to live forever, but repeated cloning damages the natural reproductive process. After a few generations, there weren’t enough fertile people alive to maintain a viable genetic pool.”
“So where did I come from?”
“Their best scientists gathered in an effort to create the most advanced human genetic design. The DNA was then embedded within recessive genes of the local Indians. When the atmosphere reached a certain lev
el of specific chemicals indicating advanced technology, the recessive genes were activated which led to your birth.”
“But why, for what purpose, and how many others are there like me?” Haley asked.
“The Nina Nizhoni didn’t expect you to resurrect their civilization. They were attempting to pass along some of their knowledge to Homo sapiens. The DNA which is rearranging your cellular structure at this very moment represents the pinnacle of their technology. Your genetic code is linked to the vault and everyone on the planet with Homo princeps DNA.”
Claude reached out and touched Haley’s hand.
“You are the only one of your kind. Your birth triggered the deactivation of similar recessive Homo princeps genes in all humans, so no others would be born.”
“So I’m the example of a failed civilization,” Haley sighed.
“You are much more. You are here to show us what is achievable, but at the same time warn us of what can go wrong when we play god. You are a gift from the past, a teacher and a leader. Your transformation will also help us with a more immediate problem.”
“What are you talking about?” She asked.
“There are a few powerful men determined to destroy this institution and keep the world in a constant state of chaos. They were once Nina Nizhoni.”
“What are they now? Didn’t you say the Nina Nizhoni are extinct?”
“Yes, but these are depraved clones. They have the ability to self-replicate with most of their memories intact. They also have other technologies which they have used to acquire enormous wealth and power. You won’t find them on the Forbes Fortune 500 list, but they are wealthy beyond description. They have had thousands of years to accumulate riches and manipulate world events in their favor. We refer to them as the Qabalah.”
“And you want me to fight them?”
“Oh god no! Fighting and killing comes naturally to the Qabalah. You can help us locate them. They hate you more than anything because you possess emotions they relinquished thousands of years ago. They will reveal themselves when they try to kill you.”
Haley still had a million questions, but her mind was spinning. She wanted time to think, analyze and organize the information.
“This isn’t over,” she said while turning to leave.
“I know,” Claude whispered. “It’s just beginning.”