Adrian dHagé - The Inca Prophecy

In July 2010, I had just descended the torturous switchback road carved out of the mountainside below Machu Picchu and was wandering the steep cobbled streets of Aguas Calientes. Browsing in a local bookshop, I came across Machu Picchu Forever, City of Pilgrims, a fascinating book by Mallku Aribalo. I contacted Mallku, who kindly agreed to see me in Cusco at very short notice. In two hours we could only scratch the surface, but I was grateful for his insights into the shamanic path and the extraordinary depths of the ancient Inca culture. Despite some prophecies heralding the end of the world in December 2012, Mallku does not agree. Rather, he sees this as a time of pachacuti, or great change pacha meaning earth or time, and cuti meaning to set things right.

The Inca prophecy comes from the Qero people. For 500 years, the Qero, the last of the Inca, remained hidden high in the Andes. But in 1949, anthropologist Oscar Nunez del Prado was attending the Paucartambo festival when he encountered two Indians who spoke Quechua, the ancient language of the Inca; and the existence of the Qero was unmasked. Like Mallku, the Qero believe the time of great change is upon us, when the Eagle of the North (the West) and the Condor of the South (the native peoples, who are in tune with pachamama, or Mother Earth) will once again fly together. This will be a spiritual awakening, an awareness of the rhythms of the planet. But in my view, unless we change course, we will miss this last opportunity.

We have already come to the brink of nuclear destruction on no fewer than five occasions, yet still we contemplate an attack on Iran. Regardless of the rare planetary alignment in December 2012, we have already sown the seeds of our own destruction, and if we continue on this path, we wont need any help from the elements. Far-fetched? Chillingly, it is not.

It is not widely known, but on the morning of 25 January 1995, in conjunction with Norwegian scientists, US scientists launched a Black Brant XII four-stage sounding rocket to study the Aurora Borealis in the Arctic. Thirty countries, including Russia, had been warned of the launch, as the trajectory took it to nearly 1500 kilometres above the Barents Sea at Russias northern border. But no one passed the information on to the crew at Russias Olenegorsk early warning radar station. As the stages of the rocket separated, they appeared similar on radar to images of multiple warheads from a US submarine-launched Trident missile; and the warheads appeared to be headed for Moscow. Russian nuclear forces were put on alert and the Russian president, Boris Yeltsin, was advised of a nuclear strike by the United States. He was urged to retaliate with nuclear missiles. Fortunately, Yeltsin was sober, and he refused to believe that the US had attacked the Soviet Union. Had he not, the world might look very similar to the horrific scenarios described in The Inca Prophecy. Any nuclear capability, regardless of its origin whether it be from the US, France, Pakistan, Israel or any of the nine nuclear-armed countries is extremely dangerous when it falls into the wrong hands, as I hope The Inca Prophecy attests. I have written this novel as a warning.

Im indebted to my team at Penguin: publisher Ben Ball, editors Belinda Byrne and Arwen Summers, talented designer Adam Laszczuk, the wonderful marketing and PR team, headed by Sally Bateman and Anyez Lindop, and Peg McColl and Kate McCormack of the rights department, who do the hard yards at the world book fairs on my behalf. As usual, Clare Forster, my agent at Curtis Brown, has been much more than an agent: reading various drafts of the manuscript and providing insightful advice and guidance. Im grateful to Barak Zero One for putting me straight on the finer points of flying an F-16 Falcon. And thanks to Urania, wonderfully fluent in Arabic, French and English, whose advice on the quagmire that is Lebanon was invaluable.

As always, Robyn, who sees me at my worst, has been a tower of strength. To Antoinette and friends, I am continually in your debt. Caroline Ladewig once again provided sage advice a big thank you. To Tom and Wendy and the staff at Megalong Books, I shudder to think of an online world without bookshops thank you for being there. Thanks to my two boys, David and Mark, and to Tammy and Catherine, for your humour and camaraderie.

Finally, in writing this novel, Ive carried out considerable research, travelling to Peru and the Andes to experience that wonderful country at first hand. Ive also reviewed hundreds of books and documents, but to list them all would be to footnote a novel. To all those authors, Im in your debt.

ALSO BY ADRIAN DHAG

THE MAYA CODEX

DECEMBER 2012 TIME IS RUNNING OUT

Deep in the Guatemalan jungle lies the Maya Codex, an ancient document containing a terrible warning for civilisation. Archaeologist Dr Aleta Weizman is desperately searching for the codex, but powerful forces in Washington and Rome will do anything to stop her. When CIA agent Curtis OConnor joins Aleta in her dangerous quest, he also becomes a target.

The race is on for Weizman and OConnor, and the very future of our planet is at stake. From the corridors of power in Nazi Germany to modern-day Washington, from the secret archives of the Vatican to the Temple of the Lost World pyramid in the jungles of Central America, The Maya Codex takes us on a heart-stopping journey to find the codex before its too late.

Fans of The Da Vinci Code et al will race through it.

COURIER-MAIL

Chapter 1

A crystal skull lay at the feet of the mummified king. It glistened in the flickering light of the oil lamps hanging on the walls of the Inca tomb, deep inside the snow-covered Andes mountains.

Almost hidden in the gloom, the shaman sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. Directly descended from the Inca Qero people, Carlos Huayta was short and stocky, his brown oval face weathered by the years, his eyes the colour of coal, his greying black hair tied into a ponytail. Huayta pulled his hand-woven woollen poncho more tightly around his shoulders. The bright red, blue and yellow diamond patterns identified the old mans birthplace: a remote village, high in the Andes to the north of Lake Titicaca. Huayta focused on the skull at the feet of the mummy and began to breathe deeply in a deliberate, practised rhythm as his heart rate gradually slowed.