The Atlantis Plague Part 10

The soldier beside Dorian cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "Should we begin, sir?"

"No. Let it go for a while. Let's show the world the type of people we're fighting."

Another blast went off, and the horizon faded to black as the clarity of s.p.a.ce again came into focus. Now Dorian stood on a different observation deck-on a planet. No, a moon. He could see the planet on his right, but the view of s.p.a.ce was far more impressive. A fleet of ships reached to the burning white star beyond. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The sight of the full fleet took his breath away. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end. A single thought dominated his mind: I have won.

Dorian tried to focus his vision, but the image slipped away, and he was somewhere else, on a planet again, walking down a long concrete path towards a giant monolithic structure. He walked alone, but crowds lined the path on each side, many elbowing and jostling to get a look at him. A woman and two men waited at the base of the stone monument just outside the dark opening. Dorian couldn't quite read the inscription engraved above the entrance, but somehow he already knew what it said: "Here lies our last soldier."

The woman stepped forward and spoke. "We have decided. You will walk the long road of eternity."

Dorian knew the woman was playing for the camera, uttering the words for the historical record. She had betrayed him. "Every man deserves the right to die."

"Legends never die."

Dorian turned and, for a split second, considered running. This is how they would remember him, his final act. He walked into the tomb, past the stone faade, into the vessel. The shimmering gray walls reflected the beady lights that shone from the floor and ceiling. The last rays of sunlight receded from the tunnel behind him, and the lights inside the vast chamber adjusted. Rows of tubes stretched out into the distance as far as he could see. They were all empty. The first tube in the row slowly hissed open, and Dorian marched to it. So be it.

As quickly as the tube closed it was opening again, and Dorian was running out of the shrine. The sky was dark except for flashes all around him. He blinked, and then he stood in a deserted street of another spiderwebbed city. The blasts were far larger than the ones before. The entire city seemed to be coming down, and he saw ships descending from the sky.

Then he was in the vast chamber with the tubes again. They were all full now. He ran down the long corridor. He watched in horror as the Atlanteans, his people, awoke, screamed, stumbled out of the tubes, and died. The flow of people was endless. As soon as one died, a replacement body took shape in the tube, and the endless cycle of agony began again. Dorian raced to a control station and worked his fingers as the wisps of white and green light washed over his hand. He had to stop the resurrection sequence, had to end their purgatory. They could never wake up. But he could make them safe. He was a soldier. It was his job... his duty.

He stepped away from the control station and he was on the observation deck of a ship again. Below, a blue, green, and white globe floated into view. Earth. The skies were clear and the land below was untouched. No cities, no civilization. A blank canvas. A chance to start over.

He turned, and he was in the tombs again, but he wasn't in the vast chamber that held the tubes. He stood in a smaller room with twelve tubes, all empty. He blinked and a body appeared in the center tube-a prehistoric man. He blinked again and another human ancestor appeared.

The room faded, and he was outside, at the top of a mountain. The view was distorted by the curve of gla.s.s-a helmet's visor. He looked down. He was wearing an environmental suit similar to the one the Atlantean had given him, and he stood atop a metal chariot that floated just above the tree line.

The sun was high in the sky, and the forest below was green and dense, interrupted only by the rocky ledges that descended like steps to the valley below.

Along the ridges, cavemen clashed with wooden and stone tools. There were two species, Dorian could see that now. One species was smaller, but they had better tools. They descended in waves on their larger adversaries. They threw spears and communicated in rough guttural sounds, coordinating their raids.

The sun advanced and the valley filled with combatants. The war raged, and the carnage was near total. Blood flowed across the ground and stained the white and gray rocks. Dorian floated there on the chariot, watching, waiting.

Then the sun was setting over the valley, and just as quickly, it rose, and the valley was quiet. At the bottom, bodies were stacked so deep Dorian couldn't see the ground. Flies swarmed the ma.s.s grave. Buzzards circled overhead. On the rocky ridges, the victorious humans stood holding spears and stone axes. They stared down silently, their bodies painted red and black with the remnants of the battle. A large human-the chief, Dorian thought-stepped forward and lit a torch. He spoke some words, or rough sounds, and tossed the torch into the valley below. Around the ridge, others followed suit, until the rain of fire into the valley ignited the underbrush, then the trees and the bodies.

Dorian smiled and activated the helmet's recorder. "Subspecies 8472 shows a remarkable apt.i.tude for organized warfare. They are the logical choice. Terminating other genetic lines." For the first time, he felt hope, looking at the primitive, warlike species.

Smoke filled the valley, then slowly drifted upward, engulfing the forest and finally the ridge. The band of triumphant humans disappeared into the smoke as the black and white plumes rose, surrounding Dorian. The columns of smoke twisted around him and faded until the gla.s.s changed. Then the wisps of white and gray cleared and Dorian once again looked out of the tube at the vast chamber in Antarctica-the same vessel that had existed on the Atlantean home world. His thoughts were again his own, as was his body.

A new body. Another one.

The Atlantean stood there, watching him placidly. Dorian studied him, his face, the white shock of hair on his head. It had been him on the ship, in the dream. Or was it a dream?

The tube opened, and Dorian stepped out.

CHAPTER 27.

Two Miles Below Immari Operations Base Prism

Antarctica

Dorian eyed the Atlantean for a long moment. Then he looked around and said, "All right. You have my attention."

"You don't disappoint, Dorian. I show you the fall of my world and the origins of your species, and that simply earns your attention?"

"I want to know what I saw."

"Memories," the Atlantean said.

"Whose?"

"Ours. Yours and mine. Memories from my past, memories from your future." The Atlantean paced away from him, toward the opening to the chamber where Dorian's and David's dead bodies lay.

Dorian followed him, pondering what he had said. Somehow, Dorian knew it was true. The events were real-his memories. How?

The Atlantean spoke as he led Dorian down the gray-metal corridors. "You're something different, Dorian. You've always known you were special, that you had a destiny."

"I'm-"

"You're me, Dorian. My name is Ares. I am a soldier, the last soldier my people ever had. Through a strange twist of fate, you inherited my memories. They've lain dormant in your mind all this time. I was only aware of them when you entered this vessel."

Dorian squinted at the Atlantean-Ares, not sure what to say.

"Deep down, you know it's true. In 1918, they placed a dying little seven-year-old boy in a tube in Gibraltar. When you awoke in 1978, you weren't the same. It wasn't the time that changed you. You were possessed with hate, driven to seek revenge, to build an army to defeat the enemy of humanity and find your father. You had a sense of your destiny-to fight for the future of your race. That's what you came here to do. You even knew what you had to do: change the human race at the genetic level. You knew all this because I knew it. It was my desire. You have my memories. You have my strength. You have my hatred and my dreams. Dorian, there is an enemy in this universe more powerful than you can imagine. My people were the most advanced race in the known universe, and this enemy defeated us in a day and a night. They will come for you. It's only a matter of time. But you can defeat them-if you're willing to do what must be done."

"Which is?"

Ares turned on Dorian and looked him in the eyes. "You must ensure that the genetic transformation of your species is completed."

"Why?"

"You know why."

A thought seemed to echo in Dorian's mind: to build our army.

"Precisely," Ares said. "We're fighting a war. In war, only the strongest survive. I've guided your evolution for this single purpose: survival. Without the final genetic changes, the humans here won't survive. None of us will."

In the recesses of Dorian's mind, he knew it was true, had always known it was true. It all made sense now: his ambition, his blind, unreasoning desire to transform the human race, to defeat an unseen enemy. For the first time in his life, everything made sense. He was at peace. He had found the answer. He focused on the task at hand. "How? How do we build our army?"

"The case you carried out. It emits a new radiation signature that will complete the process. Not even Orchid can stop the mutated virus it will unleash. As we speak, a new wave of infection is emanating from the blast site in central Germany. Soon it will spread around the world. The final cataclysm will happen in the coming days."

"If that's true, what's left to do? You clearly have the situation well in hand."

"You must make sure no one finds a cure. We have enemies out there. Then you must free me. Together we can take control of the survivors. We can win the battle for this planet. They are our people. They are the army we will launch against our ancient enemy. We will finally win this war."

Dorian nodded. "Free you. How?"

"The case serves two purposes. It emits radiation that renders Orchid ineffective, and it has created a portal to my location-an artificial wormhole, a bridge across s.p.a.ce and time." The Atlantean stopped, and Dorian realized they were in front of the door to the room that had held the case and the two suits. The door slid open, revealing an empty room, except for the last suit. "I told you it had everything you needed."

Dorian walked into the room without a word and began putting the suit on.

"There's something else you have to do, Dorian. You must bring the woman that was here. You must find her and take her through the portal with you."

Dorian pulled the last boot on and looked up. "Woman?"

"Kate Warner."

"What the h.e.l.l does she have to do with this?"

The Atlantean led him out of the room and down the corridor. "Everything, Dorian. She's the key to everything. But you must wait. At some point very soon, she will acquire a piece of information-a code. That code is the key to freeing me. You must capture her after she has the code and bring her to me."

Dorian nodded, but his mind raced. How did the Atlantean know?

"I know because I read her thoughts-the same way I can read your thoughts. It's how I knew you had my memories. It's how I knew what you were."

"Impossible."

"It's only impossible with your current scientific understanding. What you call the Atlantis Gene is actually a very sophisticated piece of biology and quantum technology. It utilizes principles in physics you haven't discovered yet. It has been the guiding hand in your evolution. It has many functions, but one of them is to turn on several processes in your body that control radiation."

"Radiation?"

"Every human body emits radiation. The Atlantis Gene turns that stream of static into an organized data feed-a continuous upload of your memories and physical changes, right down to the cellular level. It's like an incremental backup, transmitting data to a central server every millisecond."

They stood in the opening to the chamber that held the seemingly endless rows of tubes. "When this vessel receives a death signal and confirms there will be no further transmissions, it a.s.sembles a new body, an exact replica down to the last cell and very last memory."

"This place is-"

"A resurrection ship."

Dorian tried to wrap his head around it. "So they're all dead?"

"They died a very long time ago. And I can't wake them up; won't wake them up. You saw it. They died badly, in a world that hadn't known a violent death in too long to remember. But you and I can save them. They are the last of our people. They are counting on you, Dorian."

Dorian took in the expanse of tubes with a new appreciation. My people. Were there others? "What about the ship in Gibraltar? It's another resurrection ship?"

"No. It's something else. A science vessel. A local explorer, incapable of deep s.p.a.ce travel. It's a lander-the alpha lander from the science expedition here. It has eight resurrection pods. Expeditions are dangerous work and the scientists sometimes have unfortunate accidents. As you know, the resurrection chambers also have the power to heal. Resurrection only works for Atlanteans. And it has a limited range. The nuclear blasts in Gibraltar likely destroyed the pods there. These tubes are the only ones that can resurrect you. But if you venture past a hundred kilometers from here, you won't resurrect. The system won't make a copy if it doesn't have updated data-the Prometea rule. If you go out into the world, you will be mortal again. If you die, you die forever, Dorian."

Dorian looked over at David's body. "Why didn't he-"

"I disabled the resurrection for him. You won't have to worry about him."

Dorian glanced at the corridor that led to the outside. "They captured me before. They didn't trust me."

"They've seen you die, Dorian. When you walk out of here again, risen from the dead with memories of what happened to you, no one will oppose you."

Dorian hesitated for a second. There was one last question, but he didn't want to ask it.

"What?" Ares asked.

"My memories... our memories..."

"They will come, in time."

Dorian nodded. "Then I'll see you shortly."

CHAPTER 28.

David Vale opened his eyes. He stood in another tube, but in a different place-not the vast, seemingly endless chamber below Antarctica. This room was small, no more than twenty feet by twenty feet.

His eyes adjusted, and the room came into focus. There were three other tubes-all empty. A large screen dominated the far wall, just above a high-top bar, like the control panels he had seen in the Atlantean structure in Gibraltar and Antarctica. Below it, a crumpled-up suit lay on the floor. A closed door stood at each end of the room.

What is this? What happened to me? To David, the room seemed different from those in Antarctica; it was more like the science lab in the Gibraltar structure that Kate's father had described in his journal. Was this a science lab? If so, why am I here? For some kind of experiment? And beyond that, he wondered why he kept waking up in these tubes every time Dorian Sloane shot him to death. That he had now been shot to death multiple times was also hard to wrap his head around, but he had to focus on the more pressing issue: how to get out of the tube. Had Sloane figured out some way to work the tube, or had the Atlantean released him? As if on cue, the tube hissed open and the thin clouds of gray and white fog wafted out into the room and dissipated.

David paused, a.s.sessing his surroundings, waiting for his new captor to make the next move. When nothing happened, he stepped out into the room, struggling on barely responsive legs. He steadied himself at the control station. Below him lay the environmental suit. The helmet sat against the wall, behind the control station. David could see now that the suit was damaged. He bent and rolled it over. Yes-it was the same type of suit he had seen in the holo movies in Gibraltar. The Atlanteans had worn them when they had run out of the ship and saved a Neanderthal from a ritual sacrifice near the Rock of Gibraltar.

He examined the suit more closely. A large gash spread across the torso. The result of weapons fire? The material seemed to be severed, but not singed. What did it mean? In the videos he had seen, the ship in Gibraltar had exploded after a ma.s.sive tsunami washed it ash.o.r.e, then pulled it back out to sea. The Immari had a.s.sumed that a series of methane pockets on the sea floor had exploded, ripping the ship into several pieces.

The explosion had incapacitated one of the Atlanteans in the suits, and the other had carried him or her through a door-presumably to Antarctica.

Was this suit from one of the two Atlanteans in Gibraltar? David stood and searched the room for any other clues. On a small bench behind the control station, he could see a garment of some kind, neatly folded.

He hobbled to the bench. His legs were getting better, but they weren't one hundred percent yet. He unraveled the bundle. It was a black military uniform. He held it up to the dim LED-like lights that shined from floor and ceiling. The suit glistened and seemed to reflect the light. It almost looked like a projection of a starry night. He moved it around and the suit changed again, matching the light and walls behind it. It was some kind of active camouflage. The entire reflective top-the tunic of the uniform-was smooth and blank except for the collar. Its right side had a square emblem: [II].

I.I. Immari International. This was an Immari Army uniform.

On the left side of the collar, a silver bird spread out-the insignia of a lieutenant colonel's rank.