Battle For Atlantis a-6

by Robert Doherty

  Relaxing was difficult as all the physical techniques he’d used to do that weren’t available to him — no slowing his breathing, untensing muscles, etc. There was just his mind and the overwhelming feeling of disorientation and fear. Dane pictured Sin Fen’s face as she lay on top of the Atlantean pyramid near the Bermuda Triangle Gate. The calmness in her features as she gave her life to channel the power to stop the Shadow’s assault. He had to have that in him also. He was the warrior-priest, the latest in a long line of what had been just priestesses.

  As his own negative feelings dropped away, Dane became more aware of his surroundings. While his physical surroundings were the planet itself, mostly rock, there was more to the space than that. He picked up a sense of power. Immense power flowing.

  Dane moved toward the power.

  It was as if he moved from darkness into a supernova as he hit the power stream flowing through the tunnel. The tunnel was over a half-mile wide and a beam of pure white light poured through it from left to right. It felt as if the power stream were bathing him, stripping him clean.

  Dane realized he could channel this power, use it, but only if he had his body. Not with just his essence.

  Is that what the Shadow had learned too late? Dane wondered. Is that why they needed that latticework of spheres? To be able to use the power?

  He turned against the flow and moved upstream. He had to see where this was coming from, the source, even though he had a very strong suspicion based on what the Shadow had done to his timeline.

  He moved swiftly through the power stream until he came out of the tunnel into a larger tunnel. In the very center of the cavern the power stream made a ninety-degree turn, going from horizontal to vertical, heading down into the planet. A gigantic crystal was the device at.turned the stream, absorbing it as it came up and turning it.

  Dane went forward.

  The stream came straight up out of the floor of the cavern. Dane paused before going down. He checked out the cavern. The walls were black and smoothly cut, much like the Space Between.

  Rather than curving up to meet in the top center, though, the roof of the cavern was perfectly flat. Dane moved up to get closer to it. Black beams criss-crossed gray stone. It appeared that the cavern was beneath a solid slab of granite.

  Dane reversed course and descended, moving into the power stream, and heading into the planet. The walls of the tunnel began to change. First solid rock, then he moved through layers of rock mixed with lava. While there was no apparent lining to the tunnel, he sensed that the power itself kept the path open.

  Then Dane came out into the core of the planet. A vast open space, the far edge beyond his ability to pick it up. And in the very center of the earth was a massive crystal, Over five miles wide that emitted the power beam.

  And to his right was a beam of power coming into the power crystal. Dane knew this was the Shadow’s new source, from some other timeline it was in the process of draining.

  Another piece of the puzzle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EARTH TIMELINE — VIII

  Pennsylvania, 3 July 1863

  It was going to be a hot day. That was apparent to all on both sides of the lines as they woke with the rising sun. Cooking fires filled the air with their aroma but few had the desire to eat. H the previous day had been any indicator, many of those who greeted the morning sun had seen their last sunrise.

  For the Federals, there was little movement to be made as the plan that had been decided was simple — hold in place.

  On the Southern side, things were more complicated. Lee had not held a meeting with his subordinate commanders the previous night, nor had he had his staff issue any written orders. So, despite having decided on a course of action, Lee now had to implement it.

  Lee started the morning by riding to Longstreet’s headquarters. On his way to his right flank corps, he scanned the length of the Union position as he rode along Seminary Ridge with a few of his staff officers. Just south of Cemetery Hill he saw something that he liked. There was a six-hundred-fifty-yard-wide stretch of almost bare ridgeline crowned by a copse of trees. From the Confederate skirmish line to the Union line was about thirteen hundred yards of pretty much open field. There were a few farm buildings and fences, but overall it was good terrain.

  Lee continued south and found his senior corps commander with his staff, discussing a possible flanking movement. Lee was both stunned and angered.

  “General, I wish to speak with you in private,” he told Longstreet.

  The corps staff scattered out of earshot, before Lee continued. “You were with me, last night. You know my desires.”

  Longstreet shook his head. “Sir, we had a discussion of possible courses of actions but you issued no orders last night, nor have I received any today. I have been over the terrain since first light and my scouts have also reported in. The Union holds both Round Tops but beyond that they have practically nothing. We can flank them still, and put ourselves both astride their supply and retreat line and between Meade and Washington.”

  “We have had this discussion before,” Lee said. “I have not changed my mind.”

  “Neither have I,” Longstreet shot back, the most visible sign of discontent he had ever shown the commander whom he revered.

  “You will bring up General Pickett’s division,” Lee ordered. “I have already issued orders for artillery to mass opposite where I want him to attack. We will fire a prolonged artillery preparation before Pickett attacks.”

  Lee turned on his heel and walked away. Longstreet stared after him as his adjutant came up. “He thinks the Army of Northern Virginia can do anything,” Longstreet · muttered. He gave in to the inevitable and began issuing orders.

  As Lee rode off he realized it would take hours for Pickett’s division to be brought forward and move into assault position. Rather than let the Union forces sit still for the day, and to draw off reinforcements from the center, he engaged the part of his army most ready to attack immediately, his left flank.

  Waves of Confederate troops attacked Culp’s Hill. Uncharacteristically as the morning progressed, the Southern forces seemed unwilling to press forward with their usual vigor. Not only was the terrain not favorable for the assault, being steep and rocky, there was little artillery support for them as Lee was massing his guns in the center. It was as if the Confederate troops involved were attacking simply because they had been told to, but not with any true determination.

  This did not mean that men were not dying in droves. For each Southern attack, there was a corresponding Union counterattack and the same terrain saw bodies from both sides drop on it, soaking the ground with their blood. 3ut overall, there was a strong sense of anticipation in the air as if a powerful thunderstorm were coming and all were awaiting its arrival to see what it would bring.

  * * *

  Inside the storage cellar she had dug out the previous · evening, Amelia Earhart felt the sweat begin to come to the surface of her skin. She had the plank covering lifted about an inch, held in place with the haft of the shovel, so she could peer out. The Union line was silhouetted against the rising sun. She sat on the plastic case that held the skulls. She couldn’t tell if it was from the small amount of power the skulls had gained from the battle on Little Round Top or from the summer heat, but the case felt warm.

  She drank from a canteen she had scavenged from a body the previous evening. She spit out the contents as it seared into her throat. Some terrible rotgut from a camp still. Earhart considered sneaking out to try to find water, but she knew her position was too exposed to the Union lines. She would be spotted.

  All she could do now was wait.

  * * *

  Meade rode his lines one more time, making small adjustments here and there, but overall he was very satisfied with the way his men were positioned. He decided to join General Gibbon and his staff for lunch on Cemetery Ridge.

  * * *

  Lee intended to keep his word to Longstreet. He had
spent most of the morning gathering his artillery together along a thirteen-boomed-yard front facing the copse of trees on Cemetery Ridge, which he had determined to be the focal point of the attack as it was very noticeable.

  Most of the guns were massed in two great batteries. · One consisted of seventy pieces lined up hub to hub on the southern part of Seminary Ridge. The other was a set of thirty-five and another of twenty-six guns on the northern part of the ridge.

  * * *

  Meade was informed by his own chief of artillery of the Rebels moving their guns into position as he ate some of the fried chicken Gibbon’s staff had cooked up.

  “Where are they aimed?” Meade asked, wiping his hands on his breeches.

  “Here,” the artillery officer said.

  “Will their fire be effective?” Meade asked.

  “Somewhat. But many of the guns are at maximum range given their lateral displacement. Also, they will have to elevate to fire. Either they will be dead on and hit the front side of this ridge or else their shells will go overhead harmlessly.”

  “And how many do you think will be dead on?” Meade asked.

  “At the range they’re firing. Not many.”

  “Good.”

  “Should I initiate counter artillery fire?”

  “No.” Meade ordered. “Conserve your ammunition. I think you will soon have more targets that you could have dreamed for.”

  * * *

  Pickett had had a hard time getting his troops forward, moving through the rest of Longstreet’s corp that was in · front of it. Also they had to ride against the steady flow of ambulances moving to the rear, overloaded with moaning and crying wounded. Not the most motivational scene. Still, morale was high among the Virginians of his division because the word had spread that Robert E. himself had chosen them to carry the day and the battle.

  Pickett had no idea what the battlefield ahead looked like. He drew his forces up according to the orders he had received, on the western slope of Seminary Ridge, out of sight — and artillery fire — of the Union lines. He deployed his division in two waves, each about eight hundred yards wide. Each wave consisted of two ranks with me closers behind. In front was a thin line of skirmishers who would lead the way. Some had been sent out in the early dawn, crawling forward into the field before the Union lines to pull down fences and other obstacles. Now they lay still in the high grass, waiting.

  By noon it was in the eighties, and troops lay in position, waiting, as all men in the military spent most of their time doing. A couple of the brigade commanders who would lead the assault gathered together for a liquid lunch of some liberated whiskey. It was a common, if not widely reported, practice for soldiers on both sides before the attack. It was somewhat easier to charge into hot lead with some hot liquor in one’s belly. It might becloud the mind, but it emboldened the spirit and held fear a little further at bay.

  Throughout the morning there had been little firing along this part of the front, although heavy fire had been heard to the north in the vicinity of Culp’s Hill. Snipers occasionally put out a round here and there. A few artillery rounds were fired, but these were for ranging purposes, to lay the guns.

  As noon came a strange silence descended. Even the battling at Culp’s Hill died off. There was no breeze, and the stillness was heavy over both sides. Yet, both sides also brimmed with confidence about what was to come.

  Save for Longstreet. Remarkably, he even sent a courier with a message to the Confederate commander of artillery. The message directed him to tell Pickett to call off the attack if the barrage did not have the anticipated effect on · the Union lines. This was a bizarre message given that · Longstreet commanded Pickett’s division, but it was the only thing Longstreet could think of to try to forestall the attack short of disobeying Lee’s orders.

  The artillery commander sent a message back to Longstreet, bouncing the ball of responsibility back. The message said that if there were any doubt about the wisdom of this attack, it should be called off before the barrage began as it would use most of the remaining artillery ammunition. Longstreet realized that his first message had been inappropriate and dropped the issue.

  At 1:00 P.M. the Confederate batteries opened fire.

  * * *

  Earhart’s morning had not been uneventful. Confederate skirmishers had crawled forward, several not far from where she hid. Around eleven, a half dozen Rebel snipers actually took cover in the house and opened fire on the Union positions, bringing fire back at them. Earhart was forced to shut the cover to her hole.

  She heard firing for almost a half hour, then shouts as the Confederates were forced to relinquish their position as a strong Union patrol charged forward. Earhart thought she was safe when she heard the Union soldiers retreat back to their lines. She pushed up the plank and was greeted by the strong smell of wood smoke. Twisting her head she could see that the remnants of the farmhouse had been set on fire by the Union troops to destroy it as a refuge for snipers. She shut the top and hunkered down, praying that the plank would not catch fire.

  After an hour or so she carefully pushed up the top. The farmhouse was smoldering remains. Then a roll of thunder roared overlie battlefield, and she saw the Union lines explode with the incoming artillery.

  * * *

  The infantrymen did as infantry had done since the invention of the cannon and when receiving incoming fire. They sought cover. Given no orders to return fire, the Union artillerymen quickly did the same.

  General Gibbon jumped up from his lunch with Meade and yelled for his horse. As an orderly brought it, a piece of shrapnel from an exploding shell tore through the man’s chest killing him instantly. The horse fled. Gibbon ignored this and strode off for the nearby front line on foot.

  Men were torn apart, animals killed, and occasionally an ammunition wagon would explode, causing a distant roar of applause from the unscathed Confederate lines. Meade headed to his headquarters, behind Cemetery Ridge. Which actually was a more dangerous position than the front lines as most Confederate shells were high and landed on the reverse slope. Meade arrived to find that his chief of staff had been wounded.

  Along the Union front, the massed Confederate firing was having an effect, although not as great as Lee had hoped for. The Union artillery commander was almost playing games in response. ·He allowed some of his batteries to fire back for short periods of time, more to bolster morale among the beleaguered infantrymen than to counter what was coming in. He also had some guns deliberately not fire among those batteries, to make the Confederates think they had knocked out many of his pieces.

  Casualties among the infantry were actually relatively · light as they had the advantage of hiding behind the stonewall and most of the rounds sailed harmlessly overhead. Officers had the highest rate of dead and wounded as they strolled along the line, shouting encouragement to the men. In a strange way, the fact that so many of the shells were high discouraged any who might have thought about running as it was actually safer to be behind the wall. Also, the lack of trees, except for the copse, along the place receiving the most fire, was advantageous as it reduced the possibility of wood splinters from exploding shells.

  The one effect the bombardment did have, though, on the Union troops, was to convince them an attack was coming.

  General Gibbon, who would later admit that he had been terrified throughout the day, found another horse, mounted it, and then sat on it, perfectly still, in plain view · of his men, throughout the rest of the bombardment. Such was the role of officers.

  General Warren, the engineer who had helped save the day at Little Round Top, was still there, watching to the north. He realized that the Union counter-fire was very ineffective and sent word to Meade. The Union commander sent orders to all his batteries directing them to cease-fire and conserve ammunition for the expected infantry assault.

  His orders reached the various batteries that had been firing at different times, meaning they fell silent gradually, giving the impression
to the Confederates that they were stopping because they were running short of ammunition. This, combined with the selective withholding of pieces by the Union artillery commander, led the Confederate artillery commander to decide his fire had been extremely effective in silencing the Union guns. Thus, even if he had agreed with the message Longstreet had sent him earlier in the day, he would not have acted on it.

  The Confederate artillery commander then hastily:>penned a note for Pickett: “For God’s sake come quick.”

  With his own guns just about out of ammunition, he gave the order to save fire, then looked over his shoulder, anxiously awaiting the attack.

  The courier found Pickett in conversation with Longstreet. Pickett read the note, then handed it without comment to his corps commander. Longstreet read it without comment.

  “General, shall I advance?” the excited Pickett asked.

  Longstreet could not speak. He bowed his head.

  Pickett saluted. “I shall lead my division forward, sir.” He pulled a note out of his tunic and gave it to Longstreet. “For my fiancée.” Then he bound onto his horse and galloped off, without seeing the tears that were streaming down Old Pete’s face.

  Longstreet wiped the tears from his cheeks and rode forward. He was dismayed to find that the battery of guns he had ordered held in reserve to support Pickett during the advance were nowhere to be seen. He learned they had retired to the rear and that it would take an hour for them to be brought back forward. This delay would extend the time between the end of the barrage and the assault too long.

  Longstreet shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as he saw that Pickett’s men were moving. It was now three in the afternoon.

  * * *

  General Warren on Little Round Top saw the advance from his vantage point and had signalmen with flags relay the message, north. Along Cemetery Ridge the infantry slowly peeked over the stonewall. Wounded were carried off, ammunition was brought forward, and artillery pieces were lined up and zeroed in.