by A. G. Riddle
“There is… something else,” Paul said. “Something I’m working on. It’s related to Malta. I want you to contact the directors of Victoria and Valletta Districts. Find out whatever you can.”
Paul’s assistant ran into the room. “Sir, the president’s on the line.”
75
Over the Mediterranean Sea
It was quiet in the large helicopter, and David credited the slight vibration for helping Kate fall fast asleep shortly after boarding. He sat straight up against the seat, staring out the window. Kamau and Shaw were up front, in the cockpit, with Kamau flying; Janus and Chang sat across from him. Both wore exhausted, impassive looks on their faces.
Kate had slumped into him, her head resting on his shoulder. David didn’t dare move. He held his sidearm under his right leg, ready to use it at a moment’s notice.
With Kate sleeping on his shoulder, his gun in his hand, and all four suspects straight ahead, David felt better than he had since they’d found Martin dead. Knowing they had delivered a cure didn’t hurt either.
Kate’s breathing was even and calm, unlike the sweaty, torturous dreams she had endured on the yacht. David wondered where she was, what she was dreaming… or remembering.
Janus spoke softly, careful not to wake Kate. “I want to commend you, Mr. Vale. I am rarely so impressed with anyone as I was with your performance on the boat. Your grasp of history was… remarkable. I had taken you for a simple soldier.”
“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” David suspected Janus was working up to something, priming him like a suspect who had valuable information, but he couldn’t imagine where the scientist was going with it.
“For me, one mystery remains.”
David raised his eyebrows. Extraneous words ran the risk of waking Kate.
Janus held Martin’s code out, letting David take it in once again.
PIE = Immaru?
535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?
Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW
Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega
70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1978
Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?
“The last line of Martin’s code: ‘Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis.’ What do you think it means?” Janus folded the note back up. “I am also curious why Martin included the note about PIE at the top. It seems… unnecessary—if our theory is that the cure lies in the genome of Kate and the survivors of the two bubonic plague outbreaks in the past.”
David had to admit: the man had a point. “Could be camouflage, or a false path to throw off anyone who found the notes.”
“Yes, perhaps. But I have another theory. What if we have missed a piece—another genetic turning point. Alpha. Adam. The introduction of the Atlantis Gene.”
David considered the theory. “Maybe… but plague bodies from the sixth and thirteenth centuries aren’t exactly easy to find, and there are millions of them buried throughout Europe. You’re talking about a single body, buried somewhere in Africa, seventy thousand years ago… It would be beyond impossible to find.”
“That is true,” Janus said with a sigh. “I only mention it because you seemed to have most of the insight into the notes. Your history background appears to be more relevant than my science, strangely.” He glanced out the helicopter’s window. “I wonder if Martin found it. If he somehow located the remains of Adam, if he left a clue somewhere in this note.”
David considered his words. Was there something else there?.
“Another consideration,” Janus said, “is Martin’s intention. He obviously knew Kate was part of the genetic puzzle, but his primary goal was to trade the cure for her safety. If he had identified all the pieces, perhaps he designed the final clue—the location of Adam—just for her.”
“Except there’s no clue, no dates, no locations. Just ‘Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis.’ We don’t even know what the treasure is.”
“Yes; however, I have a theory. If we consider the Tibetan tapestry, which we all agree is the key to Martin’s code and chronology, there is a very clear piece of treasure in the depiction: the ark the primitives carry into the highlands at the time of the flood and the fall of Atlantis.”
David nodded, almost involuntarily. Why hadn’t he seen it before? And what did it mean? How could Adam lead to this treasure? And what was inside the box—the Ark? “Yes… that’s interesting…” David mumbled.
“One last point, Mr. Vale. The first line in the code: ‘PIE = Immaru?’ Why do you think Martin put it in there?”
“To direct us to the tapestry?”
“Yes but clearly Kate already knew about that. Might it be a trail to something? It seems… extraneous. It could be taken away, and the chronology would be intact. It adds no further practical information, nor does the last line that references treasure. Unless, of course, they are actual clues, leading us to Adam and this treasure, somehow unlocking the secrets of this ‘Atlantis Experiment.’”
Chang looked up, as if he had awoken from a dream. “You think—”
“I think,” Janus said, “that there is still more to this. I wonder if we could wake Kate to get her opinion. It seems the entire mystery hinges upon her.”
David involuntarily pulled Kate closer to him. “We’re not waking her.”
Janus swept his eyes over her quickly. “Is she not well?”
“She’s fine,” David said, in the loudest tone he’d managed since the conversation began. “She needs her rest. Let’s all take a break.”
“Very well,” Janus said. “May I ask our destination?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there.”
76
Kate thought this dream was far more vivid than the others. Not a dream… a memory. She stepped into the ship’s decompression chamber and waited. Alpha Lander, that was the ship’s name.
The suit she wore moved slightly as the air swirled around it.
The massive doors parted, revealing the beach and rocky cliff she had seen before. The blanket of black ash that had covered the land before was gone.
The voice in her helmet was crisp, and Kate jumped slightly at the sound. “Recommend you take a chariot. It’s a long walk.”
“Copy,” Kate said. Her voice sounded different, mechanical, emotionless.
She walked to the wall and held her hand to the panel. A cloud of blue light emerged, and she worked her fingers to manipulate it. The wall opened, and a hovering alloy chariot moved out into the room and waited for her.
Kate stepped onto it and worked the control panel. The chariot rotated and zoomed out of the room, but Kate barely felt any motion—the device created some sort of bubble that kept the inertia from swaying her.
The chariot moved over the beach, and Kate looked up. The sky was clear—no traces of ash. The sun burned brightly, and Kate saw green vegetation looming beyond the rock cliff that bordered the beach.
The world was healing. Life was returning.
How long had it been since she had administered the therapy—the genetic technology the humans would come to call the Atlantis Gene? Years? Decades?
The chariot rose to clear the rocky ridge.
Kate marveled at the green, untouched landscape. The jungle was returning, rising from the ashes like a new world that had been created from scratch—a vast garden built as a sanctuary for these early humans.
In the distance, a column of black smoke rose into the air. The chariot charged on, and the settlement emerged on the horizon. They had built it at the base of a high rock wall, to better protect them from predators in the night. The camp was arranged so that there would be only one way into it, and that entrance was heavily guarded. Shanties and lean-tos formed a circle, the largest structures built directly into the wall at the rear of the camp. The blazing communal fire at the center of the camp also helped ward off predators.
Kate knew the humans would learn to make fire later, but at
this point in their development, they could only keep fires that had already been created by sources like lightning. And keeping the fire burning was imperative to the camp—for the protection it offered and for cooking the food that would help their brains develop.
Four males stood around the fire, feeding it, tending it, ensuring it never went out. The fire rose from a square stone pit. Large boulders ringed the towering blaze, forming a wall that kept the children from the inferno. And there were so many children, maybe even a hundred of them, scurrying about, playing, and motioning to one another.
“Their population is exploding,” her partner said. “We must do something. We have to limit the tribe’s size.”
“No.”
“Unchecked, they will—”
“We don’t know what will happen,” Kate insisted.
“We will make it worse for them—”
“I’m going to inspect the alphas,” Kate said, changing the subject. The issue of their rapid population expansion was a concern, but it didn’t have to be a problem. This world was small, but it was big enough for a much larger population—if they were peaceful. That would be her focus.
The chariot set down, and she stepped out. The kids around the camp stopped and stared. Many wandered toward her, but their parents rushed forward and shoved them to the ground. They fell down as well, placing their face to the ground and extending their arms.
Her partner’s voice was even more solemn. “This is very bad. They take you for a god—”
Kate ignored him. “Proceeding into the camp.”
Kate motioned for the humans to stand, but they remained face-down. She walked to the closest one, a woman, and stood her up. She helped the next person up, and then everyone was standing, rushing to her. They mobbed her as she waded past the crackling fire at the center of the camp.
She spotted the chief’s hovel instantly. It was larger and adorned with ivory tusks. Two muscled men stood guard at the entrance. They stepped aside as she approached.
Inside, an elderly man and woman sat in a corner. The alphas. They looked so old, so withered. They had never fully recovered from their near-starvation in the cave. Three males sat around a square stone platform in the center of the hut, discussing what looked like a map or some sort of drawing. They all rose. The taller male stepped toward Kate, but the elderly man stood on shaky limbs and waved him back. He bowed to Kate, then turned and pointed at the wall. A series of primitive drawings were spread out in a line. The helmet translated them:
Before the Sky God, there was only darkness. The Sky God remade man in his image and created a new world, lush and fertile for him. The Sky God brought back the sun and promised that it would shine so long as man lived in the image of God and protected his kingdom.
It was a creation myth. A surprisingly accurate one. Their minds had advanced in a great leap forward, achieving self-awareness and problem-solving abilities they had never before known. They had focused their newfound intellect on the greatest questions of all: How did we get here? What are we? Who created us? What is our purpose?
For the first time, they realized the mysteries surrounding their existence, and they groped for answers, as all emerging species do. In the absence of absolute answers, they had recorded their interpretations of what they believed had happened.
Her partner sounded nervous now. “This is extremely dangerous.”
“Maybe not—”
“They are not ready for this,” her partner declared with finality.
They were too young for mythology, but if their minds had already come this far, the religion that followed could be a powerful tool. “We can fix this. This… could save them.”
Her partner didn’t answer.
The silence weighed on Kate. It would be easier if he argued. The silence demanded she justify her claim.
“We have to end this experiment now, before we make it worse for them,” her partner said, softly now.
Kate wavered. Developing religion this early was indeed dangerous. It could be corrupted. Selfish members of the tribe could use it for their own benefit, manipulating the others. It could be used as a justification, a basis for all sorts of evil. But if used correctly, it could be an incredibly civilizing force. A guide.
“We can help them,” Kate insisted. “We can fix this.”
“How?”
“We give them the human code. We’ll embed the lessons, the ethics, in their stories.”
“It cannot save them.”
“It has worked before.”
“It will only last so long. What happens when they stop believing? Stories won’t satisfy their minds forever.”
“We will address that problem when it arises,” Kate said.
“We can’t be here to hold their hand. We can’t solve all their problems.”
“Why can’t we? We made them. Some of us is in them now. It’s our responsibility. And helping them may be the most important thing we could possibly do. We certainly can’t go home.”
Kate’s words brought only silence now. Her partner had relented. For now. She hated the disagreement, but she knew what she had to do.
She held her forearm out and tapped at the controls. The ship’s computer quickly analyzed the primitives’ symbolic language. It was crude, but the computer easily fashioned a dictionary. She held her palm out, and the light shone from it onto the stone wall. The symbols she projected lined up just below the lines the tribe had written.
The elderly alpha nodded. Two males rushed from the hovel and returned with two large green leaves filled with a thick burgundy liquid. Kate thought it was crushed berries at first, but then she realized what the leaves held: blood.
The males began painting the gray stone walls with it, copying the symbols she projected.
Kate opened her eyes. She was back in the helicopter with David. The door was open, and the sea glistened below. The breeze filled her lungs, and she realized how much they hurt. She wiped a sheet of sweat from her forehead. David’s eyes were on her.
He pointed to the headset hanging in the middle of the space. Kate lunged for it and pulled it over her ears. He leaned forward and clicked the dial.
“We’re on a private channel now,” he said.
She involuntarily glanced at Chang and Janus sitting across from them.
“What’s wrong?” David asked, focusing on her, ignoring the scientists who sat impassively.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know.” Kate wiped another layer of sweat off her face. “The memories are coming; I can’t stop them now. I’m reliving them… it’s like they’re… taking over… I think, I don’t know. I’m scared that I’m losing… some of myself.”
David’s eyes raked over her, as if he were not sure what to say.
Kate tried to focus. “Maybe I’m at the age when the Atlantean therapy, whatever the tube does, the memory restoration, takes over and—”
“Nothing is taking over. You’re going to stay exactly the way you are.”
“There’s something else. I think we’re missing something.”
David cut his eyes to the two scientists. “What?”
“I don’t know.”
Kate closed her eyes, but no memories came this time. Only sleep.
77
Over the Mediterranean Sea
Kate awoke to vibrations on her thigh. The first thing she saw was David’s eyes.
She took the vibrating phone from her pocket and glanced at the number. It was a 404 area code. Atlanta, Georgia. The CDC. Continuity. Paul Brenner. Understanding washed over the stupor of her sleep as she answered the call. She listened. Paul Brenner was panicked now. He spoke quickly, the phrases hitting her like punches. Trial failed. No alternative therapies. Euthanasia Protocol has been authorized. Can you help?
“Hang on,” she said into the phone.
She sat up. “It didn’t work,” she said to David, Chang, and Janus.
“There’s
more, Kate. Another piece of the genetic puzzle,” Janus said. “We need more time.”
“We have something,” Kate said into the phone. She listened, then nodded. “Yes, okay. What? Okay, no, we’re…”
She looked at David. “How close are we to Malta?”
“Malta?”
Kate nodded.
“Two hours, maybe a little less at top speed.”
“The Orchid Districts in Malta report no casualties. Something is happening there.”
David didn’t say a word. He climbed past Chang and Janus in the seat across from her and began talking to Shaw and Kamau in the cockpit—setting a course for Malta, Kate assumed.
Kate rubbed her head. There was something different about the way she felt. She was more… detached, clinical, numb. Almost robotic. She had full command of her mind; she just experienced the scene as if it were happening to someone else. The danger was intense—the annihilation of ninety percent of the human race… yet she felt as though she were in the middle of a science experiment, where the outcome was uncertain but would have no impact on her. What’s happening to me? Her feelings, her emotional core seemed to be slipping away.
When David returned, he slumped back onto the bench beside Kate. “We can be in Malta within two hours.”
Kate held the phone to her ear and began conversing with Paul. We’re going to check it out—Can you hold them off—We don’t know what’s there—Do your best, Paul—This isn’t over.
She ended the call and focused on the group.
Janus spoke before she had a chance. “It was here the entire time, under our noses.” He pointed to the page containing Martin’s note. “Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis. MALTA.”
Kate watched as David scanned the code. His face changed. What was that: guilt?