Everybody laughs out loud at that, even Bud.  It's a great relief, and as things settle down, some find themselves looking at the full moon again.  The southern half is completely covered by the circular dust cloud thrown up the the asteroid strike.  The cloud glows brightly from the reflected sunlight, making the moon look a bit pear shaped instead of round at the bottom.

"Yes," resumes Phix, "I have had all those names and more. But I am not a god, just a guardian.  Those who challenged the Calendar Machine gained life, and the people saw them as gods.  They couldn't be injured and they never died.  They had access to my library and used their knowledge to add to it.  They cultivated knowledge among the people and helped guide them toward a better future, one generation at a time.  And so time passed until the people were prepared enough to understand and deal with the Calendar Machine one more time. 

"With each success, the old team reclaimed their lives, and the new ones gained life for the duration.  They started with their blank slate and the guidance of those who went before.  They developed their own solutions and passed them on for the generations to follow.  So the knowledge of my library grew, and the options open to them expanded as well.  As I said, the last team became a failure.  They had reset the machine for three long counts -- 15,375 years.  But after only 1000 years, they started going mad.  In the following millenia, they split, driving one of them away, then a second, as they worked on the Chimera.  And so, about 12,500 years ago, three girls' lives ended in an act of evil -- but their creation rose up and struck them all down in an instant, and their followers with them.  Of the previous team, there were only two survivors:  Jin and Tepoz."

Every head snapped toward Jin and Tepoz.  They were hanging their heads. 

"Phix's library has vast knowledge of arcane powers," said Tepoz eventually.  "My objections to their work earned me a rebuke from them, by changing me into this form -- a blue dwarf.  Still I worked to block them, but I eventually had to flee.  Jin -- Tochtli at the time -- had already fled.  When the maelstrom occurred, I was unharmed. I realized they had succeeded and failed at the same time.  I picked up the pieces where I was and carried on.  My talent was chemistry, so I focused on the arts of fermentation.  In a world without potable water, your choices are either parasites and intestinal diseases or meads, ales, and beers.  They were sterile, healthy, and easy to make.  That was my part of advancing civilization." 

"As for the girls, Phix very kindly took it upon herself to bind up their ashes in clay statues, to prevent any further mischief with the Chimera weapon by disguising them as guardian golems.  She passed them to me, and I established a society charged with protecting them in turn for their function as protectors.  With what little life the girls had, I could at least keep them happy, if drunk, and they had a sense of purpose when they were guarding something."

"Unfortunately, others had developed some significant skills of their own, and in an attempt to seize the golems, I was captured and bound into a statue -- the one you found in the museum that day, Monica. Fortunately, they didn't know how to make it work without an unlocking spell, and that let you release me.  As it turned out, their attempt failed, but I remained a statue.  The society moved on, memories faded, and eventually the statues came to Shelly."

"Up to that point," he continued, "all I knew about Jin -- as Tochtli -- was that she had fled.  Neither of us knew the other had changed forms.  That's why we didn't recognize each other until Monica figured it out and told us."

Georgette was holding her head. "I'm getting dizzy from all this.  I appreciate how complicated and dramatic your lives have been -- at least what I can understand -- but maybe I'm missing the point here.  What happens now?  What are we doing, or supposed to do?  I don't mind saying I am scared by this."

"Let me put it this way," says Phix. "Have you ever wondered about the pantheon of the gods -- say the Roman ones?  Zeus, Hera, Mercury, Athena and the rest?  They were people, like you, in times past.  They were part of the team who reset the Calendar Machine.  The stories and names change and grow with the retelling, but at the heart of it were people, like you, who once sat around a fire on the beach one evening.  Today, the pantheon of the gods is -- you!"

Georgette groaned and curled up into a ball as she sat.  Monica swayed and Shelly put her head in her hands.  Kevin pounded his fists on his knees for a moment, then held his head.. 

"You have met the challenge," says Phix sternly, "and the choices are yours.  You will live, whether you want to or not, until the end of the five Cycles, or until you solve the puzzle of the the machine.  Resetting it is one answer, but it is not THE answer.  If you do nothing, time will march on anyway.  The problem with that is what you will lose!"

"And, please," pleads Monica, "just what will be lost?"

"Knowledge," replies Phix. "With each reset, each Long Count, the world retreats that many years.  The team has that long to try again.  Everything that existed after that date is gone -- the people, their works, and their knowledge.  All but for what you have placed in my library.  Many teams have tried and the sum of their collected experiences are at your disposal for study.  But if you fail to solve the puzzle before the end of the last Great Cycle or fail to reset it, the entirety of that knowledge will disappear from my library.  The people will exist again, they will work again, they will build again.  But without you, and the knowledge you share, their efforts will take that much longer."

"Consider: From Stonehenge to the Pyramids was about 2000 years.  From the Pyramids to the Moon was also about 2000 years.  If not for the burning of the Library of Alexandria, it might have been only 1600 years.  A single Long Count is plenty of time to do great things, and remember, most of last cycle had only Tepoz, and only for part of the time!  People -- humans -- can do great things.  What more can they do if they have a helping hand?  Agriculture.  Numbers.  Writing.  And the experiences of ages past to help them find their way.  And my library is there for you to use, and the knowledge for you to share -- carefully.  I suggest you inspire -- not lead or direct.  That's what killed the last team."

"Georgette," says Monica, "you're not the only one scared.  I had hoped we hadn't turned something horrible loose on the world.  I was wrong."

"Now, now, my darlings," soothes Phix.  "It sounds bad, but I really do think you're up to it.  You're the most eclectic bunch to have met the challenge so far.  Which gods will you be?  Shelly, the mechanic: Vulcan, or Athena?  Monica, the anthropologist: Hera, or Demeter?  Luci, the zen master warrior: Mars, or Buddha?  Ra, Nut, or Imhotep?  Isis, Brahma, or Thor?  And so on."

"You have over 128 thousand years to act -- gently, I hope.  By the end of that time, you will be dealing with my daughter, Shu, or perhaps my granddaughter yet unborn.  It's our way."

"And if we succeed?" asks Kevin.

"You -- the people of this world -- will gain access to the library and all it's knowledge -- of all the worlds -- everywhere!  I hope you have figured out that I'm not from around here.  My people learned long ago not to meddle, but we do encourage -- cultivate -- but all the choices remain yours and yours alone.  That's why you are free to decline to the challenge."

"So... you -- your people -- created the Calendar Machine?" screams Monica.

"Yes, and no, it's not meddling." answers Phix.  "Many, many years ago when our people first found yours, the Calendar Machine was placed on your world.  People developed and civilizations grew.  In time, they found the Machine and sought to understand it.  In time, they found the key to start the Machine, and those people met my ancestor in her Library.  Their knowledge, behavior and curiosity earned them that right.  They were offered the chance to add to their knowledge, for the benefit of their whole world.  They accepted the challenge.  Each team since has likewise had the chance to accept or decline.  And if they -- you -- decline, nothing physical is lost.  Time resets, those gone will be born again in due course, lives will be resumed and relived -- only without whatever knowledge they might have had shared from the library.  The choices are your destiny as it would unfold, and your destiny as it could unfold."

"We cherish knowledge, and would dearly love to add yours to the universe, and share ours with you.  The choice remains entirely up to you."

"Well," says Alan after a brief pause, "I can see why the others chose to try.  It seems a win-win proposal.  We're here, it's our turn. I think we should try.  There's no real down side to this."

The discussion was brief but intense, and soon, all agreed to try.

"Above all," says Monica, "First, do no harm.  We must go very, very slowly until we can get a clue about where and how to start, and then still go slow."  It was agreed.

"So, then," ponders Phix, "What kind of gods will you be? It won't be easy. The people here now are hunter-gatherers in family tribes.  They have a few stone, bone, and wooden tools -- knives, blades, needles, woven baskets and so on.  They know no other way. They're as smart as you are, only ignorant.  Then again, so are you -- can you start a fire, form a blade, butcher a goat, or find a root to eat? You will be watching these generations come and go.  You'll see people born, grow, and die, and the same for their children and their children as well."

"How will you live?  Where?"  Phix paused and grew somber.  "Kevin -- What will you say when a father comes to you and pleads for the life of his dying son?  'Take my life, mighty lord, let my child live and serve you!'"

She paused and clenched her jaw.  "Monica, what will you do when a mother kneels before you, her newborn in her hands, and begs, 'Goddess, grant my child life!  To touch your breast -- a drop of your milk -- please goddess, you have so much!  Let my baby live -- again!'"

Phix choked on the words.  She hung her head as teardrops fell with a puff onto the white sand. 

"Thousands," she finally said, "thousands of years have passed since that frail young woman brought her daughter to me, and I'm not the least bit ashamed to weep for her still."  She sniffed and continued, raising her head.  "And if this lesson is lost on you, then you have my pity.  And I grieve for those who have the misfortune of crossing your path."

Brandi ran to hug Phix, followed instantly by Monica, Bud, and Amanda. In another moment, all were gathered around her. 

"Phix," says Monica through her own tears, "I -- we understand.  We won't fail you, or our people.  With your help, we can succeed."  The rest murmur agreement.

"Thank you," says Phix, hugging them and patting backs.  "It will be complicated, and then there's the baby to consider."

"Baby?" shouted Brandi and Georgette in unison.  Jin's face went white.

"Ah -- I didn't mention that part," smiled Phix, wiping away the last of her tears.  "When the Calendar Machine transformed you, you all became sterile.  The plumbing still works, it's just that you can't conceive or impregnate for the duration.  You can enjoy yourselves, but your are immune to disease as well as injury, hunger and thirst.  Eating and drinking are pretty much optional as well.  Of course, when your cycle ends, your body resets, and women promptly ovulate.  Brandi, Bud, expect your periods in three weeks.  The rest of you won't have any for a long, long time.  But in your case, Jin, it will be at least nine months!"

"Jin?" shouted all the others.

"Ahhhh...." Jin shifted her weight and looked at Alan.

"Alan," resumed Phix, "Last night, Jin was still part of the last cycle, and you were normal.  Today, those conditions are switched.  But when Jin was released from the effects, your gift from last night was still with her.  I don't doubt she's pregnant.  Unless, of course, all that noise was due to intense treatment for back pain or something?"

"Jin," says Alan, stepping closer, "a baby?" 

"Yes -- I think so -- It simply never occurred to me..."

Alan took Jin's hand, then looked at Phix.  "And I live only to watch her die? And then our child, too?"

"Sadly, yes," says Phix, somberly, "but then again, you'd have 40 or more years with her anyway, but not eternity.  And so with your child, who would in turn lose you.  What then shall become of the tribe of Alan and Jin?  In 20 generations, shall they number as the stars in the sky?  Or will there be a single child to carry on to the next generation?  How will they be treated, the descendants of a god?  Or the children of Brandi, Bud, and Tepoz, attendants to the gods?  There is nothing easy ahead for any of you."

"Then we'll have to make the most of all the time we have," says Alan, looking into Jin's eyes.

As they embrace, the others take their seats again around the fire.  The fire is starting to burn low and the moon has risen higher into the sky.  The brilliant cloud of dust continues to make it an eerie sight, visible to everyone on the dark side of the earth.

Luci catches a light from the corner of her eye and turns to look south along the beach.  A parade of torches is approaching their fire.

"Well, people, now it begins."  Phix takes her place with her back to the cliff, watching the approaching lights.  Kevin and Bud poke the fire and add more wood to build up the flames.  The rest change positions to flank Phix, facing south.  "Monica, stand next to me.  You are the Queen now!"

"Aw, crap," says Monica, crestfallen.  She grits her teeth, then realizes that she's still naked.  "Wait!  Shouldn't we all get dressed?"

"Don't bother.  There's no need.  You'll see in a bit."  Phix sits more firmly upright as the crowd approaches, and spreads her wings to catch the firelight. 

In another few moments, the parade of some thirty men, women, and children stand at a distance opposite the fire.  They're naked but for paint, feathers and flowers decorating their short, black hair and tawny skin.  They kneel in the sand as the elder, wearing an elaborate headpiece, steps  forward and kneels as well.  He raises his hands.

"Great Eagle Mother!  We have seen your sign in the sky, and we have come to you as foretold!  What is your bidding?"

"Phix," whispers Monica, "they speak Glyph!"

Phix smiles.  "Imagine that..."