by A. G. Riddle
When he opened his eyes again, he lay on the metal table he had seen after 247’s charade. The straps had been released, and he sat up. Through the window, he saw the rings of ships, but they were different now. Before, they had rotated in formation. Now the links were broken. A cluster of ships floated listlessly, colliding into each other, no connection between them.
David was alone in the drab room.
He walked to the door, which stood open. The corridor was empty. He paced down the dreary hall. All the doors were open, as if some evacuation protocol had been initiated.
At the third door, he saw bodies, stacked in the corner. They were like 247: gray skin with glassy, oval, reptilian eyes. But the tiny beads that had crawled under 247’s skin were gone. The bodies were utterly without life. What happened here? And how can I escape?
Kate instantly knew she wasn’t in the Beta Lander. The robotic arms that hung before her and the lighted surgery room was very… Un-Atlantean. Somehow more human or Earth-like. Well-lit and bright.
She sat up. Behind her, several people stood behind a glass wall. “How do you feel?” a voice called over the speaker.
“Alive.” But she felt more than that. She felt cured.
The Exile scientists led her to a conference room where they debriefed her on the procedure they had performed. Their years of studying resurrection syndrome had paid off, and she hoped she could reward them.
Kate felt a new vitality, a confidence. But behind it was a certain sadness. David. She pushed him out of her mind. She had Isis’ memories; all of them. They were the key. With the Exile scientists and fleet commanders assembled in the large conference room, Kate stood before a screen that covered the far wall and presented the research—both what she had done in her own time and that which she had seen in Isis’ time. She described a gene therapy, a retrovirus that would make the Exiles invisible to the sentinel fleet.
“After the therapy, you’ll appear like Atlanteans to them,” Kate said.
“We’ve heard this before,” Perseus said.
“I know. I’ve seen. This is different. I know both sides now. I know the full truth—the genes that control the Atlantis Gene and the radiation it emits. The sentinels hone in on that radiation. If it doesn’t match the expected Atlantean norm, they attack. Isis didn’t know that. She never would have modified you if she had. She was very, very remorseful about what happened.”
The committee dismissed her, and Kate waited outside, pacing nervously. After a few minutes, Paul, Mary, and Milo rounded the corner. Milo’s hug almost squeezed the life out of Kate, but she gave no complaint. The nods from Paul and Mary told her how relieved they were that she was well again. And Kate sensed something else about the two of them, something that made her both happy for them and a little sad for herself.
“What was the vibe?” Paul asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kate said. “But I know one thing: their decision will spell their fate. And ours.”
Major Thomas handed Natalie another cup of coffee.
“I’ve switched to decaf,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Good choice.”
They both focused on the radio. The repeating broadcast had changed. The call for soldiers to report to fire stations had been replaced by reports of fighting across America. The reports were of American military triumphs, but some places were never mentioned, and Natalie feared the worst: that some cities and states had fallen to the Immari militia.
Another report came: a caller claimed to have seen dark objects in the sky with his telescope.
The host laughed it off as a desperate attempt to distract the public from what was happening.
Kate was still pacing the corridor when Perseus peeked his head out. “We’re ready for you.”
She entered and stood at the head of the wooden conference table again.
“We’ve decided,” Perseus said, “to administer your therapy to one group of our ships—a group fighting a lost battle. It’s already underway.”
“Thank you,” Kate said. She wanted to hug him, but there was something she had to ask first. “I do have one request.”
An awkward silence greeted her.
“That you save my world.”
“We’re already trying.” The screen behind Perseus showed Earth. A hundred large Serpentine ships battled a fleet of many more triangular Exile ships. “We’re losing though.”
“I want to be there,” Kate said. “I know we’re losing but I have to be there in case there’s anything I can do.”
Perseus nodded. “A fleet of reinforcements is leaving in a few minutes. I’ll join you. And I think the science team will want to as well—in case they have questions about the sentinel therapy.”
When Earth came into view, Kate stepped closer to the viewscreen. Paul, Mary, and Milo had opted to come with her and they all stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the Exile ship’s communication bay. For almost an hour, their ship waited beyond the battle zone, watching the tide turn several times. The Exile ships had been built to battle the sentinel spheres. They were no match for the Serpentine Army.
Finally, Kate wandered back to the stateroom they had assigned her.
Even if the Exiles were able to turn the tide and save Earth from the Serpentine Army, her people would still be in trouble: the sentinel threat remained. Humanity would have to join the Exile fleet, living a nomadic life.
But if Earth fell and Kate’s therapy were successful in neutralizing the sentinel threat, Kate, Milo, Mary and Paul would still be alone among the Exiles. She realized that no matter what, she would be alone again, without David. She wondered if it was all worth it, but sitting on the edge of the bed in the darkened stateroom, she knew that it had been. She had done all she could, what she thought was right. And she was proud of that.
CHAPTER 55
Kate had almost worn a hole in the carpet of her stateroom when the doors opened.
“It worked,” Perseus said. “The sentinel spheres have disengaged our ships.”
Kate exhaled. “That’s good news.”
“The bad news is that we’re losing out there. And another Serpentine fleet is on its way here. When it arrives, we’ll have to pull out.”
“Can you save anyone on the surface?”
“No,” Perseus said. “I’m sorry. We’re just not set up to fight the Serpentine ships or for planetary evacuations. Our ships were designed to defend against the sentinels.” He waited in the sitting room for a moment, and Kate sensed he wanted to say more, but there was simply nothing to say and nothing he could do.
Finally, Kate took a seat in the club chair and said quietly, “Thank you. I know you tried.”
Perseus paused at the doorway but left without a word. Kate sat for a while longer, unsure what to do, what she could do.
The double doors hissed open, and Paul, Mary, and Milo walked in. They had heard; Kate could tell from the expressions on their faces.
“What do you want to do?” Paul asked.
“I don’t think there’s much we can do,” Kate said.
The door opened again, and Perseus strode through, excitement on his face. “You need to see this.”
David had finally found what he thought was the command center of the Serpentine ship. It was a circular room with several hundred screens that showed Serpentine fleets hovering around hundreds of worlds. The Serpentine vessels drifted listlessly, and they were being obliterated by triangular ships.
Something had infected every link in the ring, severing it, as if the head of the snake had been cut off. That was the good news. The bad news was that he was trapped.
Kate stood on the Exile ship’s bridge, staring at the Serpentine ships that drifted around Earth.
“Could this be connected to your therapy that removed the sentinel threat?” Perseus asked.
“No. I don’t think so.” In truth, Kate had no idea. “Well, maybe.”
“Which is it?” Perseus asked.
“I don’t
know.” Kate racked her brain. Something had killed the Serpentine Army from the inside out. Ares. His weapon. Isis’ research. In a flash, it all came together for Kate. “It’s us. Humanity. We’re the ultimate anti-Serpentine weapon. Our DNA, the Atlantis Gene, the plague, it was all about this moment. When the Serpentine Army assimilated us, our DNA was an anti-virus. It killed them.”
“That’s impossible,” Perseus said.
“Why?”
“They never made it to the surface of your planet to assimilate anyone.”
It didn’t make any sense. Kate was sure she was right.
“We’re not taking any chances. The leadership has ordered us to destroy all the Serpentine ships.”
“I think that’s wise,” Kate mumbled, still lost in thought.
She wondered how they could have assimilated…
David. When the military beacon had been destroyed at the Serpentine battlefield, they would have been able to see what was happening there. If they had recovered his body…
“I know what happened,” Kate said. “They tried to assimilate someone from our team. His name is David Vale, and we need to find him.”
“What are you proposing?”
“He’s on one of the Serpentine ships. We need to begin searching—”
Perseus held up his hands. “Are you out of your mind? We don’t even know how many ships there are. Millions, possibly billions. And this could be temporary or a trap. There’s no way we’re going to risk that for one life.”
“You are. You’re going to do it because I have something else you need.”
Perseus eyed her skeptically.
“The location of the sentinel factory—their control center. And if I’m right, the resurrection ark that contains all the Atlantean survivors, as well as one of your own. Lykos.”
Perseus stood there on the bridge, contemplating Kate’s words. Finally, he said, “I’ll take it to the high council. But even if they agree to search, they’ll want that location first.”
Kate nodded her agreement. At that moment, she realized the true genius of Janus’ plan. He had spread the memories across the three locations that could reveal the full truth—the Serpentine battlefield, the sentinel factory, and the stranded lander on the ruined world. It had been his ultimate backup plan, his contingency against Ares. Kate hoped it would work this final time.
“They’ve agreed,” Perseus said. “With conditions. They’ll scan the Serpentine ships for human life signs before they destroy them. No life signs, they fire at will. If they detect human life signs, they’ll send a robotic boarder to check it out. Anything fishy, they fire. If the robot finds your man, we bring him back under a heavy quarantine and do a thorough exam.”
Kate ran to him and hugged him.
The hours that followed were the longest of Kate’s life. She watched the triangular Exile ships maneuver the Serpentine vessels into a course for the sun. The black objects got smaller by the minute as they sailed into the burning star. She knew this was happening around hundreds, possibly thousands of worlds. She just hoped David wasn’t on one of the ships.
Paul, Mary, and Milo had joined her in her stateroom, but no one said a word. The feeling was like a hospital waiting room. Everyone was there for Kate, but there was nothing to say.
In the Serpentine command center, David watched the triangular ships systematically destroy the Serpentine fleet. Of the hundred screens, only a handful still showed Serpentine ships. It was a massacre. On the central screen, which showed the rings of ships outside the one David occupied, a portal opened, and a fleet of triangular ships arrived.
They seemed to waste no time. Their shots immediately began tearing into the rings of Serpentine ships. The wave of destruction would reach David in seconds.
He watched the triangular fleet approach, bracing himself. At the back of his mind, he wondered if it was another illusion. A test. The lead triangular ship stopped, and David realized he was holding his breath.
Kate stood when Perseus entered.
“I think we’ve got something,” he said. “One life sign, on the Serpentine central ring.”
“Is he…”
“They’re running him through a battery of tests now, but he looks healthy.”
David sat in the decontamination chamber, waiting, debating what to do. If his rescue was another Serpentine illusion, what was the bait? How could he break it down the way he had the pit? He had to resist. He steeled himself. It’s all an illusion. No matter what they throw at me, I will resist.
The doors opened, and Kate stood in the well-lit, white walled corridor. Her brunette hair hung down, spilling onto her shoulders, and her face was radiant, her eyes alive. She was healthy, vibrant, the same person he had met, fallen in love with. David stood still, unable to move.
She rushed in and hugged him. He felt Milo’s arms around him too.
David decided that if it was a Serpentine illusion, they had won. It was too real to him. He couldn’t resist her.
Kate pulled back and looked in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I am now.”
At the sentinel factory, Kate and David paused at the wide window that looked out on the assembly line. The sentinel spheres were returning in droves. Kate wondered how many there were. Millions perhaps.
“What will you do with them?” she asked Perseus.
“We’re still debating. We’d like to use some to destroy the remaining Serpentine ships. It could cut the process down by years. After that, we’ll either scrap them or keep them in case another threat emerges.”
Perseus led them through the factory’s corridors. A trail of dried blood marked the path to the ark.
The outer doors opened, and Kate remembered the first time she had seen them, two miles under Antarctica.
In the decontamination chamber, she paused. She had torn her suit off here, placing it beside the two small suits Adi and Surya had worn.
Inside the ark, teams were combing every inch of the ancient vessel.
“Did they find Lykos?” Kate asked.
“Yes. They’re still treating his wounds,” Perseus said.
“Can I see him?”
Perseus agreed and led them down the dim, metallic corridors to a large room where medical technicians were setting up equipment.
“Lykos,” Perseus said, “this is Dr. Kate Warner. She created the therapy that neutralized the sentinels, and she helped find you.”
“We’re in your debt, Dr. Warner.”
“You’re not. I want you to know that I was simply finishing the work Isis started. She was very, very sorry about what happened. Had she known the truth, she would have done things a lot differently.”
Lykos nodded. “I think we all would. The past is the past.”
“I agree.” She eyed the equipment. “You’re going to treat the Atlanteans?”
“Yes,” Perseus said. “We think the treatment we used to cure your resurrection syndrome will work on them. We’ll know soon.”
“What then?”
“We were actually thinking that we would return to our homeworld. Everything on the surface of the Exile world was destroyed, and going back underground doesn’t quite feel right. We’re thinking we could all make a fresh start.”
Kate smiled. She thought that a fresh start would have pleased Isis very much.
“There’s one more thing we’re hoping you can help us understand.”
Perseus led Kate and David to the massive chamber that held the rows of tubes. Just beyond the double doors at the entrance, a pile of bodies lay. All Ares.
“We’re still counting them. Cause of death was mostly blunt-force trauma, a few strangulations. Ship logs say he disabled his own resurrection.”
“Did you find any more bodies?” David asked.
“One. Outside.” Perseus held up a pad. Dorian Sloane’s dead body floated through space, the sentinel assembly line in the background.
David glanced at Kate.
She thou
ght about the hate Dorian and Ares had shared, the things they had done—on the Atlantean world and on her world. She thought about Earth making a fresh start and about the Atlanteans, reuniting and rebuilding their civilization together.
“What do you think?” Perseus asked.
“I think we reap what we sow.”
EPILOGUE
Atlanta, Georgia
Paul watched Mary walk through the home they had shared, a look somewhere between shock and amusement on her face. “You never took the pictures down?”
“I uh… no.”
“I think we should.”
“Of course, I could—”
“We’ll put new pictures up.”
“New pictures would be good,” Paul said. It was the best idea he had heard in a very long time.
The front door opened, and his nephew Matthew bolted in, making a beeline for Paul. The boy hugged him, and Paul hugged him back with all his strength.
Natalie and Major Thomas followed. They looked tired except for the smiles on their faces.
Paul made the introductions.
“Mary and I were just discussing what we’re going to do from here.”
“Us too,” Natalie said, glancing at Major Thomas. “We’re going to report to the relief office downtown, see how we can help.”
They said their goodbyes, and Mary and Paul began collecting the pictures. They carefully removed the old photos and placed them at the bottom of a dresser drawer. They kept the frames. They had been a wedding gift.
Kate didn’t know if her hearing was going bad or if she had gotten used to the constant sound of hammering and power tools. And that commotion—from David’s constant construction projects—was the only sound for miles around. There was no bustle of a city, no airplane noise, no stadium nearby. His parents’ home was nestled on a large plot of land with a beautiful yard, surrounded by the greenest trees she’d ever seen.
