by A. G. Riddle
“Right.” I should have known. “Anyway. We assimilated or killed the other human species.”
A small smile crossed Yuri’s lips. “Go on.”
“These are research notes from the Beagle. They found archaic bones—Neanderthals in Europe, remnants of another human species in the Denisova cave in Siberia, and bones from floresiensis on an Indonesian island. They sequenced the samples. And found something extremely surprising.”
Desmond waited, but Yuri said nothing.
“Overlap,” Des continued. “DNA from each of these three species is present in modern humans. As our ancestors spread across the world, they wiped out their competition, but that wasn’t all: they interbred, too. Europeans share up to 2.8 percent of their DNA with Neanderthals. Chinese, only 0.1 percent. In the islands of the South Pacific, like Papua New Guinea, current inhabitants share up to 2.74 percent of their genomes with Neanderthals. Plus, these islanders have between 1 and 6 percent Denisovan DNA. The researchers on the Beagle also theorized that the Aboriginal Australians interbred with another human species, though they haven’t found any remains of that other species yet.”
“Good,” Yuri said. “It’s very good work. And the other half of the mystery?”
Desmond shook his head. “I assumed it was because humans can’t interbreed with any of the other primates.”
“That’s true, but there’s a more important reason the chimps, gorillas, and bonobos are still alive.”
Desmond exhaled. He had hoped his research phase was finished.
“There’s a larger picture here, Desmond. One that will change your entire understanding of the human race.”
“Can’t wait.”
“You’re getting frustrated.”
“Yes.”
“Patience.”
“Has never worked for me. Look, I came here because I thought you could help me. I wasn’t looking for this…bizarre one-person grad school.”
“This is your path.”
Desmond stared at the older man. “Well, I need to know that it’s going to lead where I want to go. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. For all I know, this is all some sick joke you’re playing on me.”
“I don’t joke, Desmond.”
Desmond sat silently.
“You want to know where this road leads?” Yuri stood. “Follow me.” He walked out of the library, not bothering to look back to see if Desmond was following.
They donned their winter coats and got on the elevator. As the doors closed, Desmond nodded at Jennifer, who smiled, a hungry expression that communicated much more. On the street, Yuri led Desmond through the crowded sidewalks of downtown San Francisco. It seemed like everyone in the city was either rushing home from work or out buying last-minute Christmas presents.
They stopped outside a high-end restaurant with wide plate glass windows that looked out onto the street. Snow was beginning to fall. The streetlamps and headlights reflected off the flurries, making them look almost phosphorescent.
“I know what you want, Desmond.”
Yuri shifted his gaze from Desmond to the people passing them, then to the restaurant window. White linens covered the tables. Real candles burned inside glass vases. The back wall was lined with half-circle booths, most with wine buckets on silver stands, beads of water forming from the ice inside.
Desmond stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on a table in the middle of the restaurant. Peyton sat there, a half-empty glass of white wine in front of her, a picked-over piece of fish on her plate, and a placid, almost somber expression on her face. Her dark brown hair looked almost exactly the way it had the day he had driven away.
Peyton’s mother sat to her left, and her sister, Madison, and Madison’s husband both sat across from her. Peyton had no date. Wore no ring.
Desmond felt a thrill run through him. Then a pang of guilt.
Yuri’s soft voice almost startled him.
“You want to know that all of this leads back to her.”
Desmond couldn’t find the words to respond.
“You want to know that you’ll be together when this is over.”
Desmond turned to face the older man. He had never even said Peyton’s name to Yuri. “What is this?” he asked.
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
“That we do our research too, Desmond. Proof that I know exactly what you want. Who you are. What you’re capable of. And who you’re here for.” Yuri paused. “She’s waiting for you. But time is running out. You have to dedicate yourself.”
“You’re manipulating me.”
“Yes, but for the right reason. You have a role to play.”
“What’s your role?”
“People. I know what they’ll do.”
“Oh yeah? What am I going to do?”
Yuri broke eye contact, and his voice was barely audible over the din of people around them. “You’ll shake your head, go back to the library, and turn it upside down looking for the answers. You’ll find them, and you’ll know the truth. We are humanity’s only hope. And yours.”
Conner listened as the National Guard troops tried the handle on each door to the van.
“Locked,” the soldier said. “Looks abandoned.”
“Fox Company,” a woman’s voice said over his radio. “We’ve got another abandoned van here. Also locked.”
Another voice came on the line. “Check the wheel wells and under the tires for keys. If you find them, bring the vehicles back. We could use them for supplies. If not, disable them.”
Conner turned his head, whispered. “Time, Doctor?”
“I don’t—”
“Guess.”
“A few more minutes.”
They didn’t have a few more minutes. If their vehicles were disabled, they would have to get others, and if the troops searching the area were disabling all abandoned vehicles…
Conner activated his comm. “Team two, I need a diversion. Now.”
He listened, heard nothing.
A voice outside, on the radio. “Bravo Company. Shots fired near Sand Hill and Saga Way. We’re investigating. Request backup.”
Boots pounded the pavement. Humvees cranked, tires squealed.
Conner waited.
A few minutes later, the platoon leader from Conner’s fourth vehicle whispered over the comm. “We’re surrounded by hostiles. They’re trying to open the van. Orders?”
“Team three,” Conner said. “Create another diversion. Quickly. Something louder this time.”
In moments, he heard the boom of an explosion. He waited, then: “Two, sit rep?”
“They left a small platoon. Nothing we can’t handle. Should we retake the vehicle and move?”
“Negative. Hold position.”
Conner lay there, waiting. They couldn’t play this game much longer. Fight or run.
“Sir,” the doctor whispered. “Brain waves are back to normal.”
“You’re sure?” Conner wouldn’t risk his brother’s life. He’d sacrifice his own first.
“Positive. The memory is finished.”
Conner sat up, turned on the satellite phone, and opened the Labyrinth Reality app. When the Citium had disabled the internet worldwide, they had taken great care to isolate the server powering this app. If it were to go down, so would their entire plan.
A prompt asked him how he would like to enter the Labyrinth: as the hero or the Minotaur. As he had before, he tapped hero, and another dialog appeared:
Searching for Entrance…
A few seconds later, it read:
1 Entrance Located.
Conner tapped the screen, and the map appeared. It was centered on an address nearby, in Menlo Park, on Windsor Drive—a short residential street that ran between Santa Cruz Avenue and Middle Avenue, near Stanford.
He activated his comm. “All units, we’ve got a new location. We’re moving out. Major Goins, coordinate efforts to liberate our units that are pinned down.”
The comm
line erupted in chatter. The mercenaries in Conner’s van returned. Operatives from the fourth van set a third diversion, this one much larger: a fire in an office building off Monte Rosa Drive. Conner had to resist an urge to admonish them for choosing to set a fire. He could not show weakness—and the fire was the right diversion.
As the van pulled back onto Sand Hill Road, he saw the first plumes of smoke go up. His mouth went dry.
He tried to focus. The location. It seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
He drew out his phone and texted the address to Yuri.
Do you know this address?
A second later, Yuri’s response flashed on his screen:
Yes. It was Lin Shaw’s home address.
Chapter 17
Peyton awoke to what sounded like popcorn in the microwave. It was rhythmic, the pops evenly spaced, and growing louder. As awareness took hold, she realized what it was: a helicopter’s rotors.
She tossed off the stack of blankets and reached for the tent’s zipper.
“Peyton,” her mother called.
She ignored her and rushed outside.
The helicopter hovered a hundred feet away. The aurora borealis had returned, its purple and green glowing bands barely lighting the black vessel in the sky.
Peyton waved her arms. “Hey!”
Adams emerged from his tent, rifle in hand. “Get back inside!”
When Peyton looked up, the helicopter was moving off.
Adams watched it, then strode over to Peyton. The cold was taking hold now, seeping through her clothes.
“Stay inside next time,” he said.
“It could have been rescue.” She was shivering now.
“Rescuers would have landed.”
Peyton knew he was right. She turned and re-entered the tent, with Adams behind her.
“Who was it?” Lin asked.
Adams shook his head. “Didn’t get a good look.”
Peyton slipped back under the covers. “What will they do?”
“They’ll find a place to touch down. Test the ice first, make sure it holds. Then they’ll disembark and hike here.”
“And?”
“And then they’ll attack.”
Two hours later, Adams came to Peyton and Lin’s tent. He and Rodriguez had set makeshift traps around the camp’s perimeter, and they had been alternating guard shifts, but there had been no movement.
“What are they waiting on?” Lin asked.
“Hard to say. Tire us out. Starve us out, maybe.” The SEAL was munching on a stick of beef jerky.
“Options?” Lin asked.
“None. We wait.”
Peyton heard gunshots outside the tent, then Adams and Rodriguez shouting. She knew she should stay inside, but she couldn’t resist peeling the flap back and peeking.
Adams held his rifle at the ready, and was panning left and right. Rodriguez was running full speed, his boots pounding the ice. Beyond the last ring of LED lights, a figure was fleeing, zigzagging. Rodriguez pulled up and took a shot, but the figure kept running, swallowed by the darkness.
Rodriguez watched for several minutes, then began trudging back. Along the way, he stooped and picked something up.
When he arrived at Peyton and Lin’s tent, he ducked through the opening and tossed the item at Lin’s feet. It was a stake, with a radio taped to it, along with a handwritten note wrapped in plastic.
My name is Avery Price. I’m here for Lin and Peyton Shaw. If they are your prisoners, I am willing to negotiate. If you aren’t willing to negotiate, be advised: my team and I will recover them either way. Call me.
“I know her,” Peyton said. “She rescued Desmond and me from the Kentaro Maru.”
Adams rubbed his eyelids. The man was clearly exhausted. “She may have turned. Or is being coerced.”
“I know Avery as well,” Lin said.
Peyton was shocked. She studied her mother.
“But I don’t know what side she’s truly on. Let’s play this out,” Lin said. “Let her talk to someone she trusts.” She handed the radio to her daughter.
Peyton clicked the button. “Avery, it’s Peyton. Do you read?”
“I read you, Doc. You okay?”
“We’re okay. I’ve got my mom here too.”
A pause on the line.
“What’s your status?” Avery asked.
“A Citium team sank the icebreaker and chased us to the Beagle. We… came out on top down there. We’ve been waiting for rescue.”
“Copy that. Who’s with you?”
Adams put his hand over the radio. “Say seven SEALs at the camp and two satellite camps with snipers.”
Peyton shook her head. “This is Avery—”
“We take nothing for granted.”
Peyton relayed the false report.
“The soldier I saw during the flyover was wearing Citium cold weather gear,” Avery said.
“Yes. We assumed they would arrive first—after their people failed to check in.”
“Safe assumption. I’m going to ask you a question.”
Peyton paused. “Okay.”
“After we escaped from the Kentaro Maru, you and I fought about something. What was it? Before you answer, know this: if you’re a captive, lie. If you don’t answer, I’ll assume the worst.”
Peyton smiled. She and Avery had fought—in fact, the two had hated each other initially. But Avery had saved Peyton’s life. And after Avery was injured at the battle on the Isle, Peyton had helped save the younger woman’s life.
“Hannah. She needed a hospital. We fought over her.”
“Yeah, we did, Doc.”
“But it turned out okay,” Peyton said.
“So will this,” Avery said. “I’ll come in. Unarmed. Tell your guys not to shoot me.”
Ten minutes later, Avery was sitting in the tent, everyone gathered around her.
It was the first time Peyton had seen Avery and Lin together. There was an air of familiarity there, along with something else—mutual caution. Suspicion.
“What’s happening out there?” Lin asked Avery.
“I don’t know any more than you all. The US military had standing orders to rally to the continental US in the event of a major comms breakdown.”
“Where are you operating from?” Adams asked. “A carrier?”
Avery hesitated. “Ah, yeah. But we don’t want to go back.”
Peyton raised her eyebrows.
“Captain and I had a disagreement about this particular mission.”
Peyton shook her head. “You stole the helo?”
“Requisitioned it.” Avery shrugged. “Without authorization.”
Peyton was starting to like Avery more and more.
“We need to evacuate,” Adams said. “I don’t like being out in the open here.”
“I agree,” said Lin.
“What did you find down there?” Avery asked. “Please tell me it’s something we can use to stop Yuri.” She paused, not making eye contact with Peyton. “And find Desmond.”
Peyton looked to her mother.
“Bones from extinct species—as we suspected,” Lin said. “Including a human ancestor previously unknown to us. We sequenced genomes of the samples.”
“Was the data lost with the Arktika?”
Nigel gripped his bag. “No. We got it out.”
“As soon as we get to a high-speed internet connection, we need to upload the data,” Lin said.
“Upload to where?” Avery asked.
“A data center.”
“I got that,” Avery muttered. “Whose data center?”
“My associates.”
Avery leaned forward. “It’s Phaethon Genetics, isn’t it? During the outbreak, you collected DNA samples and sequenced them at Phaethon. You’re storing all the data there, aren’t you?” When Lin didn’t respond, Avery continued. “In fact, that was your plan all along. That’s why you wanted Phaethon to build its own data center. All those queries,
they weren’t about our mission—curing disease. You were just getting ready for this. Phaethon was a front for your Citium research.”
Peyton held up her hands. “Wait—you two worked together at Phaethon?” Her mother’s company had hundreds of employees. When Avery first told Peyton her story, Peyton had just assumed their paths had never crossed.
“On occasion,” Lin said quietly.
But Avery was angry now. “So all that stuff about ‘let’s find the genetic basis of disease’ was just a cover. Everybody in the company was living a lie.”
“You’re being dramatic, Avery.” Lin looked away. “Now we need to—”
“I want to know what you’re doing. I deserve to know. And I’m your only way out of here.”
Rodriguez let his hand fall to his side, to the handle of his gun. “I can fly a helo.”
Avery’s eyes flashed on him. Her hand went to her own gun.
“Stop.” Lin’s voice was like a hammer blow. “Both of you. We are all leaving here together.” To Avery, she said, “Yes. It was a cover. But for all the right reasons. I believe you’re familiar with that concept.”
“I want to know the reason that was so right.”
“Two thousand years ago, the Citium was founded to answer a simple question: What is humanity’s destiny?”
Avery rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re a true believer.”
“I am a believer in science. And I believe we are on the verge of the greatest discovery in history. The answer is written in our genes, a code that will unlock the mysteries of our existence. And lead us out of the darkness.”
Avery exhaled heavily and scratched her head. “I’m ready to fly out of the darkness here, so why don’t you give me the English version of what you’re talking about.”
“In English?” Lin raised an eyebrow. “The universe has a purpose. We have a role to play. It’s not magic, or religious mysticism. It’s a scientific process that has been going on since our universe was born—a process that will result in its end.”
“And you’re telling me our genes reveal what, exactly?”