“The databanks are infected with the same virus that corrupted Omnius’s systems. All the data is unrecoverable.”
“What?” Ethan’s heart sank.
“Have faith, Ethan. How did I bring you back on Origin? How did I return after Omnius killed me on Avilon?”
“I’m still waiting for the answer.”
“Then come.”
Feeling suddenly apprehensive, Ethan stopped walking. Alara came up and grabbed his hand.
“What other choice do we have?” she whispered to him.
None. That was what scared him.
They spent the next hour walking down corridors and riding down lift tubes before they finally returned to the hangar bay where Ethan had left his ship. The Icosahedron had been designed with quantum junctions as the primary form of transport, but they were all offline now that the jamming field was back.
When they reached the Trinity, Therius stopped at the foot of the boarding ramp and waited. “Lead the way.”
Ethan led the way to the cockpit. He grimaced once more as he was forced to walk around the Rictans’ bodies.
“So much needless bloodshed…” Therius said as he came into the cockpit behind him and Alara.
“Those nanite bombs you dropped aren’t exactly helping,” Atton said.
Ethan sat in the pilot’s chair and began spinning up the ship’s reactors, while Alara ran systems’ checks from the copilot’s station.
“The nanites will deactivate themselves soon,” Therius replied. “I built a kill switch into them.”
Ethan fired up the engines and hovered the Trinity off the deck, turning it to face the hazy blue wall of static shields. He still hadn’t decided whether or not to believe Therius. He had a terrible feeling the man was skriffy as a space rat, and no one who had died was ever coming back.
“Where are we going?” Ethan asked as he rocketed out of the hangar and into space.
“There.” Therius pointed to the gravidar display, to a tear in the repetitive landscape of the Icosahedron. That jagged line ran straight through the otherwise perfectly spherical shell, providing a way out.
Ethan set course. Along the way a surviving Union ship hailed him.
“Unidentified corvette transport, please identify yourself!”
Ethan keyed the comm for a reply, but before he could say anything, Therius spoke over his shoulder.
“This is Admiral Therius. Omnius has been defeated. Spread the word to the rest of the fleet. Have them cancel their quantum jumps and board the Icosahedron to take control of it; there’s no need to retreat anymore.”
“Admiral Therius? Your ship was captured. We thought—”
“You’re not the first person to accuse me of dying today,” Therius said, sending Atton a wry smile. “But I assure you, I am very much alive. Send the message, Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
The comms went silent, and Ethan guided them out through the ragged tear in the Icosahedron. The gap was surprisingly wide, and crowded with debris. To either side of them Ethan saw the internal structure of the Icosahedron laid bare, with thousands of decks torn open and slumping on top of each other.
“What happened here?” Ethan asked.
“When I first started jamming Omnius, his Facets were still coming together around Avilon. Without him to guide them in, they began colliding with each other.”
“Where are you taking us?” Atton asked. “What could you possibly have to show us that will support any of what you’ve said?”
“I’m taking you to Origin,” Therius replied.
“That’s in the Getties,” Ethan said. “My ship doesn’t have a quantum jump drive. I can’t take us there.”
“I know, which is why I’ve brought Origin to you.”
“What?” Atton burst out. “You jumped an entire planet here? How is that possible?”
“You think Omnius is the only one who can create a planet? Why do you think Origin was never found? Because it kept moving.”
“Why would you need to create an entire planet?” Alara asked.
“To guard a secret that’s been hidden since the day we created humans in our image.”
“We?” Ethan echoed. “We, who?”
“We, the Immortals.”
* * *
Ethan was still reeling in shock by the time he saw Origin on sensors.
“How did you jump an entire planet into orbit around Avilon’s sun without Omnius noticing?” Atton asked.
“Most of the time he was being jammed, and when the jamming field wasn’t active, the planet’s cloaking shield was. It would have taken an active scan for Omnius to find Origin, and his attention was elsewhere.”
Ethan still didn’t believe Therius. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that humans had evolved naturally, just like any other species. The best Therius could do would be to help them fill in the gaps in their evolution. He couldn’t prove that he’d created them—whoever he really was.
Ethan clung to those rationalizations as he guided them down through Origin’s atmosphere. Seeing clouds streak by the cockpit, he frowned. If Origin was an artificial planet, then why did it look so natural?
“Head for the fortress,” Therius said.
Ethan set course for the only man-made structure on the surface besides the obelisk-shaped ruins. He remembered Atta had called those obelisks tombstones. He’d never had a chance to take a look at them, but he was far more curious about their destination. Therius wanted them to go to the fortress, and Ethan could think of only one reason for that. He thought back to the underground chamber he and the Rictans had stumbled into … the locked doors, one of them leading into a medical supply locker inside the fortress, the other one leading to who knew where.
What’s behind door number two?
The ground peeked through the cloud cover in bright green scraps. Then the clouds parted altogether revealing a sprawling carpet of jungle and a distant ridge of mountains. In the distance lay the towering fortress where Therius had raised his army to fight Omnius. That fortress had come complete with cloning facilities, which Therius had used to bring him and thousands of others back to life after they’d died on Avilon. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he thought about that. Those facilities could easily be used to do exactly what Therius claimed—to create humanity.
No, Ethan shook his head. That didn’t make any sense. If they’d been created, then where had all of the fossils of early humans come from? The progression from one pre-human species to another was too clear to be refuted by a purely extra-terrestrial origin of the species.
“I’ve been here before…” Alara whispered.
“So have I,” Atton said.
“Of course you have,” Therius replied. “In many ways, you never left.” Ethan shot him a look, and Therius just smiled. “Land on the rooftop,” he said.
Ethan did as he was told, and then he and the others followed Therius through the echoing, now-empty halls of the fortress. They traveled down lift tubes and stair cases, all the while trading worried looks with one another.
Finally, they came to a familiar-looking medical storage room. The hole the Rictans had blown in the door had been repaired, but the welds were thick and lumpy.
Ethan watched Therius walk up to it and open it with a wave of his hand. Beyond was the empty castcrete chamber Ethan remembered, and at the end of that, the mysterious second door.
Therius led them straight up to that door and waved his hand at the lifeless sensor. The door came to life and swished open, revealing a long, well-lit corridor beyond. The walls gleamed with a strange, metallic glow.
Therius walked inside, and Ethan hurried after him with Alara and Atton close behind. The air on the other side of the door hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was freezing. Ethan ran his hands along the glowing walls. They were smooth and neither cold nor hot to the touch.
The door slid shut behind them with a muffled boom, and Ethan turned to look, his suspicions intensifying.
> “I don’t like this,” Alara whispered beside his ear.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Come on,” he whispered back. “It’s too late to go back now.”
Up ahead Therius walked out onto a catwalk and stopped to lean on the railing. They joined him there, looking out into a vast chamber. The catwalk where they stood was just one of many, with subsequent levels visible through the metal grating under their feet and overhead. The catwalks ran between row upon row of glowing, transparent tubes, each of them frosted and marked with a glowing control panel.
“What is this place?” Ethan asked, afraid that he already knew the answer—the cold air, the transparent tubes and control panels, level upon level of walkways to access them… it was some kind of vast stasis room.
“This,” Therius declared, “is a prison.”
Chapter 53
“A prison?” Ethan’s eyes widened. “Who are the prisoners?”
“You are.”
A sharp stab of adrenaline went cascading through Ethan’s body. “Are you trying to tell me you lured us down here to put us in one of those tanks?”
Therius shook his head. “No, I’m telling you that you are already in one of those tanks.”
“Prove it.”
“Very well.”
Therius walked down the catwalk, turned, and started down an intersecting one. As they went, Ethan became aware of Alara’s fingernails digging into his skin.
“Ethan…” she whispered. “We need to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to think that might be a good idea…” he whispered back.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” Therius said, proving that there was also no need to whisper. “I’ll explain everything to you in just a minute.” He led them past hundreds of tanks until they came to one in particular. Then he placed a hand against the glass and suddenly the frosted texture became clear. Ethan’s heart pounded, and he wondered what they’d see inside that tank.
Therius stepped aside and nodded. “Take a look,” he said.
Ethan walked up and peered inside. Alara gasped when she saw the face looking back at her, but Ethan frowned. It looked human enough—two eyes, nose, chin, ears, long dark hair… but the bone structure was unusual, more angular, and the face was longer than the average human’s would be. The most striking and least human feature, however, was its pale, luminous white skin.
“That’s not even human,” Ethan realized. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or more shocked than ever. He knocked on the glass to see if the woman would react, but she was sleeping too deeply.
“Let me help you wake her,” Therius said. He reached for the glowing control panel beside the tank, and Ethan took a hasty step back.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” he said.
But it was too late. Bright violet eyes snapped open behind the glass. Those eyes found him and flew suddenly wider.
Ethan stumbled back against the railing behind him, shaking his head. “Who is that?” he demanded, watching as Alara stepped up to the tank and placed a palm against the glass. The alien inside the tank mimicked her gesture, placing a hand with longer, more dexterous fingers against the inside of the tank.
“Those are my eyes…” Alara whispered.
“The eyes are the windows to the soul,” Therius said. “Never a truer word spoken.”
Ethan blinked. “There’s no such thing as souls.”
Therius turned to him with a wan smile. “Really? What do you think you are looking at right now?”
Alara turned to him, her cheeks slack with shock. “I remember… I remember everything, Ethan.”
He shook his head. “What are you talking about? Remember what?”
“She’s me, and I’m her…” Alara turned back to face the tank. “Somehow… we’re linked to each other. I can hear her inside of my head.”
Therius reached for the control panel once more, and Ethan watched as those alien eyes—Alara’s eyes—slipped behind luminous eyelids once more.
“What the frek is going on, Therius?” Ethan demanded, his legs trembling violently.
“I told you, my name is Etherus.”
“All right, Etherus, then. I need some answers.”
“We all do,” Atton added.
Etherus spread his hands. “That is why I brought you here.”
“I’m listening,” Ethan said.
“You call this world Origin. We call it the Garden of Etheria. We created the first humans here, but we didn’t want humanity to realize that they had been created, so we took a species from Advistine—or Earth, as it used to be called—and we spliced genes from that species with our own. It appeared to you as though your species had evolved naturally from the primates we spliced our genes to; the only evidence leading back to us was in the form of a few mysterious gaps in your evolution.”
Ethan shook his head. “Our ancestors left the Getties and settled on Advistine. They spliced their own genes with a local species to create humanity,” Ethan repeated all of that before he remembered the source.
“Omnius told you that when he came back online, and even though he lied about many things, he truly believed that was what had happened. Like you, he was left with a lot of mysterious clues and forced to draw conclusions from them. The conclusions he drew, however, were incorrect.”
“Let’s assume we believe you,” Atton said. “That explains how you created us, but it doesn’t explain why we’re linked to aliens that you call souls in this place that you say is a prison. What did we do to deserve imprisonment?”
“The link to your soul is passed down from your mother at birth. That link is broken when you’re resurrected as clones. That’s why Omnius was able to predict your behavior after Lifelink transfers. It takes time for souls to find their resurrected bodies, which is why Omnius discovered that as time went by, even resurrected clones became unpredictable again.”
Ethan chewed his lower lip. “So we’re in some type of symbiotic relationship with these aliens.”
“No, you and your souls are one and the same. As you saw with Alara, if I were to wake your souls, you would suddenly find your minds flooded with a much greater awareness of who and what you really are.”
Ethan glanced at Alara, but she was still staring into the stasis tube.
“That answers how we’re linked,” Atton said, walking straight up to Etherus. “But you haven’t told us why.”
“All of you remember Origin because you were awake when you first came here. You walked into these stasis tubes willingly. Most of your souls’ memories are repressed while they’re sleeping here, but we allowed you to retain a few memories of Origin to help you realize that there’s a bigger picture to your existence. That bigger picture is Etheria, the galaxy where the Immortals live. The Getties Cluster used to be Etheria, but it was made uninhabitable by the First Great War, the one you mistakenly call the Great War of Origin. The truth is, that war had nothing to do with this planet, immortality, or with your origin as a species.”
“So the ruins on the surface, the obelisks that Atta said were tombstones… they’re memorials from that war?”
“They serve many purposes. They’re the quantum transmitters that keep souls linked to their human bodies, and they’re also what’s used to generate the jamming field that defeated Omnius. They are the real Eclipser. And yes, they are also memorials. The bones found there are real, recovered from Immortals who actually died in the war. We piled those bones on top of your heads as a symbolic gesture, to represent the weight you carry on your consciences. Even though the dead were ultimately brought back to life, all the suffering you caused while fighting for your cause was real.”
“What cause?” Atton asked.
“Freedom,” Alara breathed, finally turning away from the stasis tube where her soul rested.
Etherus nodded. “Humans were created in order to give you all a taste of true freedom.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Freedom from what?
”
“You are made in our image, but we are not the same. Immortals are never tempted to do something that they know is wrong. Humans, however, were made to be curious. You want to know everything, to try everything, to do everything—even the bad things. That is what it means to be free, to be able to choose between good and evil. Humanity’s very first field test was conducted here.
“Once the test confirmed that humans were truly free, we put all of the rebels into stasis and sent the original pair to Earth to begin testing. Your sentence here was only ever meant to last as long as your human lives, but cloning and Omnius undid all of that.”
“What were you testing?” Atton asked.
“Your human lives serve to show you and us whether or not you really want to be free. Some people see the chaos that freedom brings, and they regret their mistakes. Those people are the ones that are both worthy and capable of living in Etheria once more. Then there are others who look back on their lives and see it all, even the mistakes, as a grand unfolding adventure. All they wish for at the end is more time to continue it. Do you know what we do with those people?”
“You send them to the Netherworld?” Ethan guessed.
“Do you know what the Netherworld is? Or where?” Therius asked.
Ethan hesitated. “No…”
“It’s here, all around you. Why do you think early depictions showed it under the Earth? In the distant recesses of your minds you still recalled that the Netherworld is what we called the underground prison complex where you were imprisoned. But we don’t have to send people here, Ethan; they are already here.”
Alara came to stand beside Ethan. She took his hand, and he felt her skin cold and clammy against his own. She was scared. He couldn’t blame her.
Ethan shook his head. “Why tell us all of this now?”
“Because the tests are over. They were over years ago already, but we wanted to be sure, so we left things running.”
“You ran out of souls,” Atton said.
Etherus nodded. “We stopped giving souls to new-born Avilonians long ago.”
Armageddon Page 42