IN THE BEGINNING, Worral Mayow meant to create heaven. Now, Earth had seen hell—earthquakes, hurricanes, pandemics. But natural disasters present unnatural opportunities, thought Mayow as his jet circled San Juan. Alighting on Puerto Rico, eve of Three Kings Day, he felt like a child scanning the sky for Three Magi. Soon, the triple diamonds of Orion’s Belt flickered through the clouds, confirming his epiphany from years ago: Make of this island a medical mecca. For he claimed to descend from the Mayo dynasty.
“As I am of light, I see the light,” he said to the pilot, who crackled, “Fasten seat
