The Atlantis Trilogy Box Set- The Complete Series

by A. G. Riddle

  “Exactly.”

  “I read your file, Paul. You’re a smart guy. A good scientist. I was a good Marine. It took me years to get up to speed on politics. It’s a different game. But you know that. You were upper management here at CDC. You’ve played the game. You can see where this is going.”

  “Obviously I’m not as smart as you think.”

  “They cut the power and food to the Orchid Districts to make us empty them. When we do, the Immari will start converting the tired, hungry masses that flow out. Their message will appeal to the millions of people we release. We’ll be fighting a propaganda war. Their ideology against ours. We aren’t fighting the Immari Army. We’re fighting their message. It boils down to the elimination of the welfare state. The Immari want a global state built with people who can fend for themselves, people who don’t rely on the government to live. A lot of people like that idea. They don’t want to go back to the way things were. And there’s the simple reality from our end: we can’t fend off the militia and care for those too weak to fight anyway. The US has about a ten-day supply of insulin left. Antibiotics are practically gone; we only use them in extreme cases now. We’ve been burning the dead outside the Orchid Districts, but we can’t keep up. With the close quarters, a new antibiotic-resistant superbug is likely already loose in an Orchid District somewhere.”

  “We can handle superbugs. That’s why Continuity exists.”

  “It’s only a fraction of what we face. Even without the Immari threat, we’re looking at a humanitarian crisis on a global scale. We have to rebuild the world, and we’ve got too many mouths to feed. We have an opportunity. We can eliminate some of our own who we can’t care for and at the same time, convince the Immari sympathizers not to go over. It’s our only play. Continuity and the Orchid implants are the key. We’ve got to build an army of our own—from the strong within our ranks.”

  Paul swallowed. “I… need some time to think—”

  “Time is one thing we don’t have, Paul. I need those codes. I’ll remind you that I have Natalie and your nephew.”

  Paul felt himself involuntarily step back. “I… I want to know the plan.”

  “The codes.” North glanced at the soldiers outside the glass doors.

  Paul took it as a threat. He took a seat at the table and spoke softly. “I assume you’ve been trying to crack the codes?”

  “For over a week now. NSA says they could be in within a few days, but when the satellites went down, we decided to call you. We’d really like to get those codes the easy way.”

  Paul nodded. He knew what the hard way would be. He tried to push the idea of being tortured out of his mind and focus on what would happen if he turned over the codes. He saw two possibilities. One: North was an Immari agent and he would use the codes to kill countless people. Two: America and the Orchid allies were about to make the greatest mistake in human history. And they were possibly going to frame Paul for it. He needed to know more. He needed time to form a plan. “Okay. Look, I’ve been at home for two weeks. I didn’t know any of this was going on. I agree that our back is against the wall. I will turn over the codes, but you should know that the Continuity program has multiple levels of security, including trap doors and protocols that ensure Continuity staff are the only ones who can send new therapies to the implants each Orchid District resident has. You need me. I now understand the threat we’re facing. All I ask is that you make me part of the solution.”

  North took a seat and pulled a keyboard close to him. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” The screen changed to show a series of statistics. Paul recognized some of them.

  “You’ve done a physical—”

  “A short one, yes. We’ve done a large-scale inventory of the entire human race—everyone under the Orchid flag.”

  “To what end?”

  “There are two lists here. Those we can save—the ones fit to fight or contribute. And those who aren’t.”

  “I see.”

  “We need to use the Euthanasia Protocol on the unfit list, and we need to do it now.”

  “People won’t stand for this. You’ll have riots—”

  “We intend to blame the Immari. They’ve taken the food and power. This isn’t a stretch. If they could take Continuity, this is exactly what they would do: euthanize the weak. The death of millions will energize the survivors to stand against the Immari threat. And it would take away the Immari selling point: eliminating the welfare state. With the weak gone, we can offer everything they can. The world the Immari sympathizers want would already be here.” North moved closer to Paul. “With a few keystrokes, we can win this war before it begins, before the cataclysm. Now I need your answer.”

  Paul glanced out the glass doors. His staff was arriving, but the guards were directing them away. There was no way out of this room.

  “I understand,” Paul said.

  “Good.” North motioned to the guard, and a skinny young man carrying a laptop entered. “This young man has been working on the Continuity database. He’s going to follow along with you, Paul. He’ll be watching and taking notes, including your access code. For redundancy, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Paul began typing on the keyboard while his new “assistant” got set up.

  A few minutes later, Paul opened the main Continuity control program and began walking him through it. “The Euthanasia Protocol is actually a pre-programmed therapy…”

  Fifteen minutes later, Paul entered his final authorization code and the main screen began blinking:

  Euthanasia Protocol Transmitted to Population Subset

  Paul stood and said, “I’d like to be alone in my office now.”

  “Sure, Paul.” North addressed one of the soldiers. “Escort Dr. Brenner to his office. Remove his computer and phone and see that he has any food and drink he requests.”

  In his office, Paul sat on the couch and stared at the floor. He had never felt worse in his life.

  8

  CDC Headquarters

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Paul Brenner checked his watch for the hundredth time, then got up from the couch and paced to the window. The three rings of military vehicles barricading the CDC tower sat silently, some of the soldiers standing and smoking, most sitting in their Humvees or slumped against the sandbags.

  Shouts erupted in the reception area outside his office. The door handle rattled then shook as someone began pounding on the solid wood door.

  “Unlock this door, Brenner!” North’s voice was hoarse but strong enough to strike fear into Paul.

  He’s alive. Paul checked his watch again.

  “Three seconds, Brenner! Or we open this door without you.”

  Paul froze.

  Behind the door, he heard something that amounted to “aim down, we need him alive.” Shots sprayed splinters into the room, and the door swung open.

  Terrance North staggered in, clutching his chest. “You tried to kill me.”

  “You should get to the infirmary—”

  “Don’t play games, Paul.” North jerked his head to the guards. “Take him.”

  Guards seized Paul’s arms and dragged him down the hall.

  In the Continuity situation room, the young computer programmer silently watched North throw Paul against the wall and spit words slowly in his face. “You stop this now, or I swear I’ll have these soldiers shoot you.”

  Paul couldn’t believe the man could still stand. North’s cardiovascular health had kept him alive far longer than Paul had anticipated. His mind grasped for any diversion that might buy time.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Natalie enter the hall with Matthew. He tried to look away, but it was too late—North had seen them.

  “I’ll execute the boy first. You can watch.” He gasped for breath. He released Paul and collapsed onto the table, panting now. “Major—”

  Paul swallowed and spoke to the three soldiers. “Stop. Major, I believe you swore to defend this country against
enemies foreign and domestic. That’s all I’ve done. Thirty minutes ago, the Secretary forced me to use Continuity to execute millions of our own citizens.”

  “He’s lying!”

  “He’s not,” the skinny programmer said. “North gave me the same orders. I wouldn’t do it either. I cracked the access codes days ago. I’ve been lying about it.”

  North shook his head and stared at Paul with disgust. “You’re a fool. You’ve killed us all. When the Immari come, they’ll wipe us out.”

  The soldiers slowly lowered their rifles. Paul exhaled as he watched Terrance North convulse and fall to the floor, taking his last breaths. It was the first life Paul Brenner had ever taken, and he hoped it would be his last.

  Paul was rubbing his temples, staring out the window, when the shattered door to his office creaked open.

  Natalie came in and stood beside him for a moment, gazing at the rings of military outside the building. Finally, she said, “How can I help?”

  “We’re in a tough spot. It depends on what the White House does next. The Marines inside Continuity will follow Major Thomas, who’s supporting me for now, but if the Administration orders a full assault on the building, we won’t last long.”

  “So…”

  “We need to get Matthew out of here. I don’t want you here either.”

  “How? Where can we go?”

  “The Orchid Districts won’t be safe. Or the cities. Probably not the roads for that matter. My grandmother has a cabin in the mountains of North Carolina.” He handed her a map with highlighted directions. “Take Matthew and a few Marines and get there as quickly as you can. The stock room is still pretty full here. Take food and water—as much as you can pack into a Humvee and get out before the next shoe drops.”

  “What about—”

  “There’s a call for you, sir.” Susan, Paul’s secretary, was leaning in the door frame.

  Paul hesitated. Was it “the call”—the surrender or face the firing squad call? “Is it…”

  “It’s your ex-wife.”

  His nervousness turned to surprise.

  Natalie’s face was even more surprised.

  Paul raised a finger. “Yes, my ex-wife is alive and well, and I haven’t talked to her in years.” He turned to Susan. “Tell her I can’t talk—”

  “She says it’s important. She sounds scared, Paul.”

  Paul walked into the outer office and picked up the phone. He hesitated, not sure how to start. He settled on, “Brenner.” It came out harsher than he intended.

  “Hi, it’s, um, Mary, I’m… I’m sorry to call—”

  “Yeah, Mary, it’s… a really bad time.”

  “I found something, Paul. A signal on the radio telescope. It’s organized. A code of some type.”

  “What kind of code?”

  When the conversation was over, Paul hung up the phone and glanced out the window at the soldiers waiting outside the building. He needed to get out of Atlanta, possibly the country, and if the code was real, it could change the entire equation. It had to be connected to the Atlantis conspiracy, though Paul wasn’t sure how. The timing, it arriving just as the plague had been cured couldn’t be a coincidence. He addressed the Marine standing in his office. “Major, assuming we can get out of here, can you get me a plane?”

  Three hours later, Paul was standing in Mary’s office, trying to understand what she was saying.

  “Stop.” He held up his hand. “Is it one code or two?”

  “Two,” Mary said. “But it could be the same message encoded in two formats—”

  “Don’t say another word, Mare!” John Bishop, Mary’s colleague, placed his hand on Mary’s forearm and focused on Paul. “We need to talk turkey first.”

  “What?”

  “We want ten million dollars.” John hesitated. “No—a hundred million!” He pointed his index finger down at the table. “Seriously. A hundred million—right now or we delete this thing.”

  Paul looked at Mary, confused. “Is he drunk?”

  “Very.”

  Paul gave the Marine a quick nod, and he and another soldier dragged John, kicking and screaming, out of the room.

  Now that they were alone, Mary’s expression changed. “Paul, I appreciate you coming, really. I’m surprised. I actually was just hoping to get out of here.”

  “We will.” He pointed at the screen. “Now what is the code?”

  “The first part is binary. Just numbers—Earth’s location relative to the center of the galaxy and our solar system.”

  “The second part?”

  “I don’t know yet. It’s a sequence with four values. The first just had two values—zero and one, on and off. I think the second sequence could be an image or a video.”

  “Why?”

  “CMYK. Cyan, magenta, yellow, key—or black. It would be an accurate way to transmit a high-res image or video. The image could be a message or even a universal hello. A greeting. Or instructions on how to transmit a message back.”

  “Uh huh. Or a virus.”

  “It’s possible. I hadn’t thought of that.” Mary chewed her lip. “In the first part of the message, the binary code was readable to us. It indicates that we have binary computing ability, that we could store the CMYK image as a computer file, but I don’t see how it could—”

  “No, I mean an actual virus, a DNA virus. A.T.G.C. Adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine are the four nucleobases that form DNA. Or it could be RNA, with uracil standing in for thymine. The code could be a genome. It could be an entire life form or a gene therapy.”

  Mary raised her eyebrows. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe. That’s… an interesting theory.”

  “Or their DNA could be composed of other nucleobases.” Paul paced away, deep in thought.

  Mary glanced around. “Did you… think of that before you decided to come here?”

  “No.”

  “Then…”

  “I think this signal could be connected to the Atlantis Plague and possibly a war that’s starting as we speak.”

  “Oh.” Mary paused. “Wow.”

  “There’s someone we need to talk with. She’s probably the only person on Earth who could tell us what it is.”

  “Great. Let’s call—”

  “All the satellite phones are down.”

  “They are?”

  “We’ll have to go to her. She was in Northern Morocco last I heard.”

  Twelve hundred feet below sea level, just off the coast of Northern Morocco, David Vale sat at a small metal table, staring at the flashing words on the wall panel.

  Surgery in progress…

  A countdown ticked the seconds away.

  3:41:08

  3:41:07

  3:41:06

  3:41:05

  But David could only think of one number: 39%. A 39% chance Kate would survive the surgery.

  9

  Immari Operations Base Prism

  Antarctica Ares was sitting at the back of the situation room with Dorian and the operations director when the analyst approached them.

  “Sir, we have the Chinese response.”

  “And?”

  “They say, ‘There can be no peace with any enemy who threatens to destroy the Three Gorges Dam. China’s walls have held barbarian invaders at bay for centuries. This will be no different—’”

  Ares held his hand up. “Okay. For future reference, a simple ‘no’ will suffice.”

  “Actually, sir, we see this as an opening, a possible clue to a bargaining point—something they want in order to talk. We release the Three Gorges Dam and maybe—”

  “Stop talking. You’re making everyone who can hear you dumber. It was an unconditional demand to surrender.”

  The analyst nodded. “Of course, sir.”

  Several minutes later, the same analyst returned. This time, he avoided making eye contact with Ares as he placed a sheet of paper on the desk in front of Dorian. “The American response, sir.”

  The man was gone be
fore Dorian looked up. He snatched the page and read the single word. The sides of his mouth curled. Fools. No, brave fools.

  He handed the page to Ares, who read the single word.

  “Nuts. What does that mean?”

  “It’s a historical reference.”

  Ares stared at Dorian.

  Dorian smiled, satisfied to be the one withholding the answers for a change. He decided to give Ares some of his own treatment. “I’m afraid you don’t know enough history to understand.”

  “Perhaps you could grace me with a history lesson, Dorian. If that’s not too much to ask.”

  “Not at all. We’re on the same side. As you know, it’s imperative for us to share information with each other. Don’t you agree?”

  Ares stared at him.

  “Let’s see… In 1944, during World War II, in the Battle of the Bulge, the American 101st Airborne Division was trapped in the Belgian city of Bastogne by heavy German artillery. They received a surrender demand from the German commander. They were starving, tired, and outgunned. It was hopeless, but their response was simply: Nuts!”

  Ares continued staring, waiting with an impatient look on his face.

  “The Germans shelled the town, nearly leveled it, but the Americans held on. Patton’s Third Army linked up with them less than a week later. The Allies won the war.”

  Ares clinched his jaws. “What does it mean, Dorian?”