Ghosts of Atlantis (Immortal Montero Book 3)

by Greg Mongrain

  Morgan paced across the floor like a big cat, silky and sinuous, a lush figure tightly encased by the peekaboo frock.

  “Exactly where are we?”

  “In your reality, that’s the island you call Catalina, off the coast of Malibu.”

  She glanced to the right. I followed her gaze. What I saw made me light-headed.

  Trapped in a translucent container, Aliena floated as she had at 49, back arched, arms splayed, her posture a memory of intense agony. My view of her had been obscured by a partial wall until now. The burning sphere of a Ghost of Atlantis hung near her head, splashing her body with orange flames.

  “No,” I whispered. I walked to the clear cage, pressed my hand against its surface as I gazed at Aliena’s slowly bobbing, riven body. A lump in my throat prevented my swallowing and a fever-sweat coated my skin.

  “She’s safe,” Morgan said. “Let’s discuss what is to be done with her.” When I didn’t move, she said, “Come Sebastian, time is wasting. We may have all of eternity, but Aliena does not.”

  Tearing myself away from the hellish sight, I advanced on Morgan, hands fisted. “You can’t do this, not to her.”

  She raised a hand wearing a silver glove, gestured at a corner of the room. A buzz filled the air, followed by a concussive wave of heat that pressed my eardrums. A blazing ghost shot across the room, alighting on the tip of her index finger.

  “I would prefer not to burn you to ashes during our negotiations,” she said.

  I stopped, eying the spitting entity warily. “Oh? And why not?”

  “Because there is something I want from you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Have you enjoyed watching your children grow old and die?” Morgan asked.

  The question startled me. “No.”

  “I have not, either.”

  “None of your children acquired your immortality?” I asked.

  “Not one. I now believe it’s not possible for us to pass the trait through a mortal line.”

  I asked, “How many?”

  “Twelve. Eight girls and four boys.”

  “I am truly sorry,” I said.

  “So am I.” She shook her head. “Think of it, Sebastian! We would certainly produce children with our longevity. Sons and daughters who would not wither before us. And,” she said, hand on hip, “you won’t have to witness the decay of their mother’s body, either.”

  Not trusting myself, I remained silent. I couldn’t help but think of how wonderful it would be if I had a child with whom I could share our secret.

  Dreams of finding an immortal woman for a wife filled my imagination from the beginning of my life. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be in love with another when I found her. Morgan would, I reasoned, happily serve as my mistress. Since she was in a different dimension, she would be difficult for someone from our reality to find. And as a second lover, Morgan was a dream, a beauty who competed with Aliena and Rachella.

  “I notice you have not taken a mortal wife or fathered children for almost three centuries,” she continued. “Why not?”

  “I prefer living alone,” I said. “Another immor—”

  “That’s not true,” she interrupted. “No one knows how you feel better than I do. Like me, you’re tired of losing those you love most.”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t given birth in five centuries.” She glanced at me. “It never gets easier to lose a child, does it? Not even when she’s eighty years old.”

  “No,” I said, “it doesn’t.”

  “I want you to make love to me, Sebastian,” Morgan said. “I want you to give me an immortal baby.”

  Chapter 56

  Sunday, February 15, 5:17 a.m.

  Morgan wanted me to inseminate her? More than she wanted the ring? For a moment, I didn’t know what to say to Morgan’s request, so I stalled. “But I thought you wanted the Apollo Ring.”

  She closed her gloved hand and the ghost disappeared. She walked toward me, her body undulating nude beneath the sheath.

  “I do,” she said. “But I’m willing to make concessions if you will give me a child.”

  “What sort of concessions?”

  “How would you like to take Aliena back to your dimension right now, free of the ghost?”

  “I would like that very much,” I answered.

  Morgan gestured at a couch in a sunken room. “Fuck me here and I will release her and capture the ghost before it re-inhabits her. Then you can take her home.”

  I glanced at the wall through which I had come. The gel-like portal was no longer active. Morgan followed my gaze.

  “You need only press that blue button to activate the interdimensional doorway,” she told me.

  “And the Apollo Ring?”

  “The ring belongs to me,” she said. “Didn’t the vampires tell you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t really think I have a machine capable of destroying your reality, do you?”

  Standing in the sunlight, the smile on Morgan’s face frankly amused, the idea did seem far-fetched. A device capable of creating a black hole would have to be unimaginably powerful since such singularities were among the most powerful structures in the cosmos. Even if a machine straddled the entire planet, how could it possibly be large enough to control the creation of such an awesome anomaly? However, since technological advancement revolved around the subatomic world, size might not be the issue.

  “Does that mean you’re not going to ask for the ring right now?”

  “Yes. I want you to give it to me. Freely.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it belongs to me,” she said. “And I don’t want to kill you to get it.”

  “Who made the ring?”

  “Apollo of course. He tore off a piece of our sun and fashioned the ring from it as a present to me.”

  “What do you mean he tore off a piece of the sun?”

  “Apollo’s people had an advanced technology. They shared some of it with me, but not all. Apollo had the power to control the sun, and manipulate it. He put a piece of it into the ring.”

  If the ring contained solar matter, the technology required to capture and harness the energy would be very advanced indeed. More likely, the phrase referred to a procedure for infusing the golden ring with…what? The two times I had seen the ring in action, the power of it had been so great, it was as if we had released something primal, awesome. The bolt of white-hot energy it fired looked like nothing I had ever seen or heard of. And that was only one of its powers. The spherical bubble it produced to protect Marcus, Emilio and me from the ghost might be the same blue color as Newsome’s field, but the difference in power was undeniable. I do not think the personal shield at BioLaw could block one of the Ghosts of Atlantis.

  “Where’s Apollo now?” I asked, wondering if he and Morgan had been lovers.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for ages.”

  “So you knew him.”

  “Of course.”

  That stopped me. Could she really have known Apollo? “How old are you, Morgan?” I asked.

  “Over seven thousand years.”

  “Did all of the Greek gods exist?”

  “Yes. They were an extraterrestrial race, of course. They bred with humans, creating a hybrid more powerful than the average human being.”

  “Are they our creators?”

  “No. None of them or their progeny remained here, and though they had long lifespans, they eventually died. They also died from physical damage, the same as mortals.”

  “Where are these beings now?”

  “Back on their planet, I suppose. They never gave the location of their home, though I know it’s in the constellation Orion.”

  “Wouldn’t one of the gods have given you immortal children? What about Apollo?”

  “Apollo gave me a child,” she said, voice soft. “A wonderful daughter. Intelligent, loving, athletic. A gifted musician.” Tears rolled down her
cheeks. “The most beautiful soul I have ever known.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Dierdre.” She swiped at her face. “She lived for three hundred and fourteen years. Eventually, she grew old and died. It’s undoubtedly because Apollo and I are not the same species.”

  The ache of my lost children surfaced with force, the images of my hallway attacks with Laurena filling me with the anguish I had felt when my sons and daughters had passed. It took a moment to clear my mind.

  “Did you find the ring through Kristina?”

  “You’re very sharp. Yes, she told me one night after we made love.”

  I still didn’t know how Kristina’s murder fit, unless Morgan had decided she posed a threat. Kristina may have played her role without knowing all the consequences. Her love for Morgan explained many things.

  But not her murder.

  “Why did you kill her?”

  Morgan’s throat worked. “I didn’t mean to kill her!” she wailed. “She was in the room when I came through the portal with Aliena. She wasn’t supposed to be there! She should have been in one of the other rooms!”

  Darius had written that if an impregnated person traveled through an ID doorway, the ghost became dislodged. If someone stood close enough to the doorway on the exit side, what would happen? Apparently, I didn’t need to ask.

  “The ghost burned her before re-inhabiting Aliena,” she said dully. “It happened so fast I couldn’t stop it.” She swiped at her eyes.

  “Why involve Kristina at all?”

  “Darius was infatuated with her. Kristina believed she could talk him into revealing the ring’s whereabouts. When he wouldn’t tell her, we impregnated Bella with a ghost, hoping the vampires would have to bring out the Apollo Ring to execute her. Kristina received word of Bella’s execution suddenly, so it wasn’t possible to impregnate someone else. I didn’t dare try to take the ring from vampires without one of the Ghosts of Atlantis to protect me.”

  This was more or less what I had reasoned out. The story explained Darius’s involvement and the purpose for the deaths of the specific victims, all of whom were guardians of the Apollo Ring.

  I wondered how far Morgan’s knowledge extended. “Do you know where we come from? Why we exist?”

  “No.”

  The answer depressed me, though I hadn’t thought she really knew.

  “Will you show me this machine of yours?” I asked finally.

  “Yes,” she said. “Come.”

  She guided us out of the house. A hovercar waited, shining in the bright sunlight. We climbed aboard. Once settled in our seats, restraining harnesses slipped over our shoulders and crossed our waists as the domed top sealed us inside.

  “Apollo,” Morgan said.

  The car slid sideways, dropped off the cloud.

  “You call the machine Apollo?”

  “Yes.”

  The vehicle fell like a moon rock, the gee forces pulling my cheeks. Before we splashed down, it tilted and shot hard left, skimming the water, our restraints again necessary to hold us in our seats.

  The gigantic device bulked on our right. It appeared to be made of a matte charcoal porcelain, huge slabs stacked on top of each other. Marcus had been quite correct: the machine was more massive than anything I had ever seen, stretching into the sky, beyond the clouds.

  The shuttle swooped up, pressing us into our seats, and decelerated to an abrupt stop, landing on a ledge. A door in the monolithic machine opened slowly. We debarked, walked through it. Once inside Morgan led me across an empty foyer and through another door, this one clear glass. I stopped as soon as I entered the new room, stunned.

  Enormous machines towered on both sides of a wide corridor. Imagine a single apparatus as large as Hoover dam. Then multiply by a hundred, and you will have an idea of the size of these blocks. Multicolored lights winked along their length. Cool walls extended higher than I could see. At eye level, a multitude of display screens scrolled data.

  “Control processors,” she said, following my look.

  “Manual control?” I asked, inspecting one of the terminals closely.

  “Yes,” she said. “They have never been used since original programming. The entire station operates independent of human control, of course.”

  I craned my neck, looking up. “How can you possibly power such colossal devices?” The answer hit me as soon as the question was out of my mouth.

  “Full power can only be achieved with the Apollo Ring. For now, we use hydrodynamic power culled from the ocean, but the station only operates at thirty percent of capacity.”

  If I hadn’t seen the power the ring contained, I would have considered Morgan’s statement absurd. “And this is merely a power station?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s also a control point for many devices, satellites, ships at sea, factories, and a great deal more.”

  “But not for creating a black hole in our reality.”

  “No.”

  “Aren’t you putting all your eggs in one basket?”

  “Perhaps,” she admitted. “When machines get to be this size, backups are not practical.”

  That made sense.

  For an hour, we toured the facility, Morgan explaining what the different sections did. Finally, we passed through a door to an area that did not look as if it were part of the larger whole. Processor banks were only thirty feet high, and the décor looked much older than what we had seen so far.

  “This is the temporary control center for the interdimensional grid,” Morgan told me. “Once the ring is in place, its functions will be overtaken by Apollo.”

  This separate facility had a white marble floor. At intervals, the stone was inlaid with a distinctive design: a blue trident within three circles. Each diagram had a round passage above it, extending upward.

  “Completely automated?” I asked, peering up one of the tunnels.

  “Yes.”

  I pretended to casually scan the computer displays, looking for a USB port. Nothing looked familiar. “Malfunctions?”

  “No, we haven’t had one. The systems are multi-redundant. Only a programmer could affect the operation of Apollo or its subsidiary parts. And if any unauthorized person attempted to enter information at one of these terminals, they would be identified in seconds and subject to immediate annihilation.” She gestured at a corner before us. One of the Ghosts of Atlantis rotated inside a clear shell, spinning and spitting with brilliant power. Three more vessels protruded from the other corners of this room. I wondered if she would mention the loss of one or two of the entities earlier.

  “I see.” I looked around. “And where does the ring belong?”

  She regarded me thoughtfully before answering. “At the heart of Apollo.”

  “May I see it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Not completely, no. Any more than you trust me,” she said.

  She led me back through the door we had crossed and found a shuttle waiting. As soon as we climbed aboard, it sped off. It took fifteen minutes to return to the entrance.

  Outside again, I turned to Morgan before climbing in the hovercar.

  “Do you know any other immortals?” I held my breath.

  “I know some of them. There’s no way to know whether they represent the complete number.”

  “How many?” I could barely contain my excitement. I would finally meet others who were as immortal as I was!

  “Will you return with the ring?” Morgan asked.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  “Not yet.”

  “When?”

  “After you have made me happy,” she said.

  The little imp. This tantalizing hook made her request for children seem like a peccadillo. How far would I go to get the names of the other immortals? Restraining my curiosity, I focused on Aliena.

  The shuttle sped us to Morgan’s cloud city. Once back in her home, she poured us each a tall brandy.
/>   “I can take Aliena to my dimension now?”

  “If you make love to me, yes.”

  “Why can’t I just give you a sample?”

  “No,” she said. “I want this child to be natural in every way.” When I continued to hesitate, she said, “Is what I’m asking so bad? Haven’t you dreamed of having children who would not grow old while you watched, helpless to do anything?”

  “You know I have.”

  “Well then? It will be your child, too.”

  Why was I fighting her? The sex meant nothing to me, and had nothing to do with my love for Aliena. And Morgan was right: I had hoped at least one of my children would inherit my immortal gene.

  Did I want to make her pregnant with my child if it was my intention to destroy the interdimensional network? I decided that did not matter. Morgan and her technicians would certainly repair the highway in the future. Which meant I would be able to see my child someday.

  “I would still prefer you let me take Aliena back first and make sure she’s all right.”

  “And you give me your word you will return and fuck me?”

  The profane word stirred me considerably, coming from the lips of such a wholesome-looking beauty. “Yes.”

  She gave me a long, lingering look, then walked across the room and stepped in front of the jar holding Aliena. She pressed her hand against the glass and the enclosure dissolved.

  Immediately, a pulse of heat crossed the room. Morgan held her glove toward the ghost and it zoomed to her fingertip.

  Aliena’s limp body slumped to the floor. I went to her, gathered her in my arms and slung her over my shoulder. I stood still, waiting for Morgan to remove the ghost from her hand. She gave a flick and the burning entity disappeared.