Battle For Atlantis

by Robert Doherty

  Pickett’s right flank began to crumble as men threw down their weapons and headed for the rear.

  The lead elements of the attack now reached the critical four-hundred-yards range from Union lines.

  Shot was replaced by canister in the Union guns. These were basically large-bore shotgun shells, each canister containing scores of oversize musket balls. Four hundred yards was also rifle range.

  The first volley of rifle fire from the massed Union lines hidden behind their protective walls brought the Confederate advance to a momentary halt, as if every man had absorbed the incoming rounds, not just those hit. Canister tore- gaping holes, scattering the ground with men screaming in pain from grievous wounds.

  It got worse the closer they got. At two hundred and fifty yards, the Union cannons were filled with double loads of canister. Every Union soldier with a rifle was firing now.

  Many among the Rebel ranks knew it was now or never.

  A Confederate lieutenant waved his sword, rallying his men. “Home, boy’s home. Remember, home is over beyond those hills!”

  A colonel exhorted his cowering men to advance. “Go on, it will not last five minutes longer.” It didn’t for him as he immediately fell, shot through the thigh.

  The Confederate advance began to break apart.

  One Confederate brigade commander, still on his horse, disappeared in a cloud of red as a round of canister hit both man and horse directly. Given that the Confederates were now taking fire from three sides--the center of the Union line, which they were approaching, and flanking fire from artillery on Little Round Top and from Culp’s Hill-the ranks that weren’t running began to cluster toward the center.

  Directly opposite the center was the Angle--a place in the Union line where there was a ninety-degree angle formed by a bend in the stonewall behind which the Union troops had positioned themselves. General Armistead, one of Pickett’s brigade commanders, led the final assault toward the Angle.

  The bloodied line of gray finally reached the stonewall. Armistead put his hat on a sword and stood on top of the stonewall, urging the rest of the Confederate survivors forward. He fell mortally wounded-and with this, the high water mark of the attack had been reached as Union reinforcements raced up and pushed the Confederates back, capturing many of them.

  **********

  Earhart heard a strange sound, something she couldn’t recognize at first. It took several moments for her to realize what it was: men sobbing. She carefully lifted her head and saw small clusters of Confederate soldiers falling back by her position, most carrying wounded comrades, and many crying, tears staining their dirty faces.

  It was the most heart-rending thing she’d ever seen.

  She could not believe that less than an hour earlier these dirty, bloodied, dispirted men had been part of the magnificent display of shoulder-to-shoulder soldiers with flags flapping.

  She’d almost forgotten about the skulls in the horror that had surrounded her. Almost, but the pull of duty came through. Even through the armor of the Valkyrie suit she · could feel the heat coming off the case. She unlatched the lid and lifted it. She was almost blinded by the glow coming out of the crystal skulls.

  She shut the lid. It was slightly after four in the afternoon. Darkness would not come for a while. When it came, she hoped her way out of here would come. She had what she came for.

  EARTH TIMELINE--XIV

  Southern Africa, 21 January 1879

  The second and third assaults were also beaten back. The piles of Zulu dead were deeper in between the outer and the inner walls. Dabulamanzi was not fazed. He had passed through the line of sanity, and in a way Shakan could understand how it happened.

  The roar of the British rifles, the war cries of the Zulu, the screams of the wounded, the dead all around, everything eerily lit by the burning building, all combined to make the normal World seem very far away. Dabulamanzi was berating his subordinate commanders, urging them into another assault. Shakan could tell even these hardened warriors were growing weary of battle.

  Ahana was seated on the dirt, her head bowed, her hands covering her face, her Valkyrie suit floating in the air behind her. They were where they needed to be, but neither woman had an idea what was to come next. The muonic levels were still rising, but with Dabulamanzi unwilling to listen, they were growing short of hope.

  Then Cetewayo arrived with his personal guards. The Zulu leader had passed through the stage Dabulamanzi was in and come out the other side. Shakan knew that as soon as he walked up, his shoulders slumped with weariness.

  Dabulamanzi greeted his brother by going to one knee. “We are preparing to attack once more.”

  Cetewayo looked at the carpet of bodies between where they were and the wall of bags beyond which the strange white helmets of British troops could be seen. Cetewayo waved for Dabulamanzi to stand.

  “How many?” he asked.

  Dabulamanzi was uncertain what his brother was asking. ‘’There are but a few of the enemy left and--”

  “How many warriors have you lost?” Cetewayo cut him off.

  Dabulamanzi blinked. “We--there have been--”

  Cetewayo put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We have won the day, but I fear we have lost more than we have won.”

  They all staggered as the ground shook.

  “What was that?” Cetewayo demanded.

  “The evil spirit bas gore into the land,” Shakan said. “It grows stronger as it eats into the soil.”

  The land was all-important, every Zulu knew that. He turned to Shakan. “What do we do now?”

  EARTH TIMELINE--III

  New York City, July 2078

  Captain Eddings grabbed Chamberlain’s arm and pointed. “Look.”

  In the water below the MH-90 were a dozen dark figures, slicing through the water. Killer whales.

  “What are they doing here? Chamberlain asked, remembering the Hi~ Priestess’ prediction that they were on their way.

  “They are part of this too,” Eddings said.

  “How deep can they dive?” Chamberlain was thinking of the tunnel that plunged into the planet. That had to be the reason they were here.

  “Not as deep as you need,” Eddings said, knowing why he had asked.

  “Nothing can go as deep as we might have to,” Chamberlain said, “if the data on that tunnel are correct.”

  Eddings looked at him. “Don’t you have faith?”

  “’Faith’? I’m a soldier.”

  “You’re the commander of the First Earth Battalion,” Eddings said. “You volunteered for this unit many years ago. If you don’t have faith, why did you do that?”

  “It has nothing to do with faith,” Chamberlain said. “It’s about vengeance.”

  Eddings shook her head. “That won’t work. This is not about defeating the Shadow or paying them back for what they did to us. It’s for the future.” She looked down at the orca. “Even they know that and they were born to kill.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EARTH TIME LINE--I

  As soon as Dane went back down in the water that covered Manhattan Island, he knew he was not alone. There were other presences in the water. Real presences. Pure evil. As evil as the Shadow, but different. Mindless creatures that existed for only one reason--to kill.

  He’d seen them before.

  Kraken.

  And he knew what they were now. Bio-engineered creatures, designed by the Shadow to kill dolphins. Given the betrayal of the dolphins the Shadow had placed on the moon, there was nothing, no creature, the Shadow hated more.

  Dane knew this hatred sprang from the subconscious, that the Shadow on a very deep level understood that the Ones Before were better than they were. More human.

  The kraken were altered deep ocean giant squids. A species that had eluded scientists and oceanographers in Dane’s timeline, and remained a myth, just like Atlantis. In the Shadow’s timeline, they had captured the creatures who inhabited the dark depths of the ocean. O
ver seventy feet long to start with and natural carnivores. They were the perfect creature to adjust to fight dolphins. Their only natural enemy were sperm whales. And vice versa.

  Kraken had a massive head, but Dane didn’t sense much intelligence, just malevolence. Stretching back from the head were eight sucker-bearing arms and two contractile tentacles with spatulate tips. The latter had rows of suckers encircled by rows of hard, horn hooks. The Shadow had transformed those into mouths with razor sharp teeth, that could not eat, only kill.

  They were waiting.

  Let them wait, Dane thought.

  He focused his self, his core.

  He did something that only the Shadow from this timeline had ever done. He made his own gate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EARTH TIMELINE--VIII

  Pennsylvania, 3 July 1863

  Longstreet had been watching the assault through his field glass while perched atop a split rail fence. As the gray line closed on the Union lines, a British officer, Colonel Freemantle, sent to America to observe this new type of warfare, came riding up, almost out of breath.

  “General Longstreet, General Lee sent me here and · said you would place me in a position to see this magnificent charge.”

  Longstreet lowered his binoculars and stared at Freemantle at a loss for words at both the timing and the comment. The British colonel looked to the east and was astonished at what he saw. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!”

  Longstreet laughed, a most strange sound amid what was happening. “The devil you wouldn’t. I would like to have missed it very much. We’ve attacked and been repulsed. Look there.”

  Freemantle lifted his own field glasses, but all he could see among the smoke drifting over the field were men fighting desperately. Longstreet however, seemed resigned to defeat. “The charge is over.” He turned to a courier. “Ride to General Pickett and tell him what you heard me say to Colonel Freemantle.” It was a most curious way to issue a retreat order, but the entire day had been most strange for Longstreet.

  The senior corps commander was interested in only two things now, which is why he kept his binoculars trained on the field. How many men would be coming back, and when would Meade counterattack?

  **********

  The feelings of shame and disgrace the surviving Confederate soldiers felt as they fell back from the Union lines turned to shock and dismay as they saw the field they had charged across and the number of bodies that littered it. They’d made the charge and known it had been bad, but only by re-traversing it did the full spectrum of how terrible it had been hit home. Men saw friends, brothers, fathers, sons, with their bodies torn to pieces, staring blank-eyed up at the sky. Many of those retreating walked backward, preferring not to be shot in the back, sometimes stumbling over bodies they couldn’t see.

  Less than half the men who had gone east returned west across the battlefield. More than seventy-five hundred men had been killed, wounded or captured. They had gained nothing but glory and lost the cream of the Army of Virginia in less than one hour.

  So many prisoners had been taken, that as Meade belatedly galloped to the vicinity of the Angle, he saw a mass of gray coming down off Cemetery Ridge and thought for several anxious seconds that the Rebels had broken through his lines, Only when he saw that the Confederates had no arms and were under guard did his heart rate go back to something close to normal. The men of the Anny of the Potomac had never seen Confederates look so utterly beaten and tired. The jubilation of just minutes earlier, when the vengeful Fredericksburg chant had echoed across the field gave way to empathy, some Union soldiers even doffing their caps to their defeated foes.

  Meade galloped up to the ridge and inquired how things were going. When informed the attack had been repulsed, he could scarce believe his ears. His eyes, however, looking out over the bloody field and the fleeing men in gray, confirmed this report.

  On the other side, Longstreet was riding along Seminary Ridge, trying to prepare the defense. If he were Meade, he knew what he would do--attack.

  Lee, on the other hand, had watched Pickett’s charge from the ridge and now rode down among the men flowing back. He spoke words of encouragement, knowing these men needed to hold on to Seminary Ridge in case the Federals attacked. Such was his presence that the majority of the men who even just saw him halted, and began to reform.

  In the midst of this, General Pickett came riding back, · a dazed look on his face, his customary swagger gone. Lee moved up to him and ordered him to move his division to the rear of the hill to be a reserve.

  “General Lee, I have no division now,” Pickett replied with tears streaming down his face. He began to run down the losses, starting with all three of his brigade commanders.

  “Come, General Pickett,” Lee broke in. “This has been my fight, and upon my shoulders rests the blame. The men and officers of your command have written the name of Virginia as high today as it has ever been written before. Your men have done all that men can do. The fault is entirely my own.”

  **********

  Earhart realized that the field was finally clear of men other than the dead and the wounded who had been left behind. She could hear men crying out in pain, many calling for their mothers or other loved ones. She dared to rise up higher in her hole and she could see the field of dead and dying all around in the waning daylight. She looked up to the Union lines where there had been much cheering and laughter, but now it was quiet and there was no sign of any counterattack.

  Earhart grabbed the plastic case. It felt heavier.

  It was time. She knew it, as if Dane were at her side and had whispered it in her ear.

  She stood up tall, not caring if any on either side saw her in the little light that was left to this most bloody day. A small black dot appeared in front of her, elongating, until it was eight feet high and three wide. Carefully holding the case, Earhart stepped through the gate.

  **********

  Longstreet could not believe what he had just seen. It appeared as if an angel had come out of the ground itself in the middle of the field near a burned-down farmhouse. The vision had floated in the air, then a black hole had appeared in front of it, which it had gone into and then disappeared.

  Longstreet was not the only one who had seen the white figure. On top of Cemetery Ridge, Meade had been scanning the terrain between his lines and the Confederates as staff officers urged him to the attack.

  “Did you see that?” he asked in surprise.

  None of the others had been looking in the direction he had been and all replied negatively.

  For Meade it was a clear sign. The battle was done. There’d been enough killing. It was time to turn to man’s better nature, if just for part of a day. He gave orders for his troops to stand down.

  **********

  “It is done,” Mary Todd Lincoln told her husband.

  The president was standing behind his desk, his back to the room, peering out the window. It was dark outside and all he could see were the lights of Washington. He slowly turned around. His desk was covered with telegrams, forwarded from the War Department. The last one, several hours old, indicated that Meade expected Lee to make an assault today.

  “The result?” Lincoln asked.

  “What was needed was received and taken from the battlefield,” Mary said strangely.

  “And what exactly was that?” Lincoln asked his wife as he sat down at his desk.

  “The strength to win a war.”

  There was a knock at the door and a courier from the War Department bustled in excitement in his face. He handed a bound folder to Lincoln.

  “What is it?” the President demanded as he opened the folder.

  “Lee’s been thrown back with heavy losses. Our men hold the ground at Gettysburg.”

  The first telegram on top of the packet, whether placed there by design or chance, was a preliminary casualty roll. Lincoln’s hands shook as he scanned the numbers. If these losses did not bring the war t
o a close, he wondered, what would it take?

  EARTH TIMELINE--XIV

  Southern Africa, 21 January 1879

  Lieutenant Chard slid a round into the chamber of the rifle and peered over the mealie bag he was leaning against. He was very tired and wanted nothing more than to lay his head down and sleep. Even the specter of another wave of Zulu warriors charging at him could no longer bring a jolt of adrenaline to his system. He dared not put his head down. Though. because he knew he would not be able to wake. He issued orders, making sure none of the men tried to nap, because he knew they too would not be able to rise once more.

  Dawn was still a couple of hours off and he did not see the sun coming up as bringing a respite. He wondered where Chelmsford and the rest of the British army were. As the minutes stretched on, he began to wonder where ne next Zulu assault was.

  “I wish they would get it over with,” Bromhead said to him.

  A single Zulu appeared on the outer stonewall, standing tall, with neither spear nor shield.

  “What is this?” Bromhead asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Chard replied as he ordered his men not to fire. The Zulu warrior raised his hands to the sky. Then he began to chant.

  “Bloody hell,” Chard muttered.

  The Zulus on the other side of the wall picked up the chant.

  “What the--” Bromhead said, pointing.

  A figure in white was now floating over the stonewall, slowly coming to a position in between the Zulu and British lines. It had some kind of pack on its back. but the face was featureless except for two large red bulges that might have been eyes.

  “Either an angel or a demon,” Chard whispered. He turned. “Sergeant Major.”

  “Sir?”

  “I believe we should reply.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Within seconds, the British troops were roused out of their lethargy and their voices were raised in song.