The Hunt for Atlantis

by Andy McDermott

  “This,” began Frost with an air of theatricality, “is where my life’s ambition has finally been fulfilled. Everything else in my business empire merely supports what has been done in this room. For thirty years I have been using the resources of the Frost Foundation to search the entire world, to identify the genetic lineage of every group of people on the planet.”

  “Looking for the Atlantean gene?” Nina asked.

  “Precisely. Only about one percent of the world’s population carries what I would consider to be a ‘pure’ form of the genome—we are members of that one percent.”

  “One percent of the world … that’s, what, sixty-five million people?”

  “Equivalent to the population of the United Kingdom, yes. But they are spread out all across the planet, in every ethnic group. Then there are those who have an impure form of the genetic markers—either from dilution over time due to interbreeding with those who do not possess it, or from natural mutation. These people make up around fifteen percent of the population.”

  “Nine hundred and seventy-five million,” Nina said immediately.

  Frost smiled. “You’re definitely one of us. One of the traits of the Atlantean genome is an innate skill with logical systems like mathematics.”

  “Considering what you’ve found out,” added Kari, “we now think it’s almost certain that the descendants of the ancient Atlanteans were entirely responsible for the development of the numerical and linguistic systems all around the world.”

  “Even after the sinking of Atlantis itself, the Atlantean survivors were still the driving force in human civilization,” said Frost. “They were the leaders, the inventors, the discoverers. They devised the systems that allowed humanity to thrive and expand—language, agriculture, medicine. But ironically …” his expression darkened, “in doing so, they sowed the seeds of their own subjugation. Before they brought civilization to the world, the survival of the human race was entirely in the hands of natural selection. Those who were weak perished. But by reducing the threat from external forces of nature, the Atlanteans made it possible for the weak to thrive.”

  “I don’t know if I’d put it quite like that…” Nina began.

  “I would,” Frost insisted. “And the process has accelerated out of control over the last fifty years. Within four years, the world’s population is predicted to reach seven billion. Seven billion people. That is an unsustainable figure. And eighty-four percent of them do not possess the Atlantean genome. That means more than four-fifths of the entire population of the world is useless.”

  Nina was startled by the bluntness of his words. “What do you mean, useless?”

  “I mean exactly that. All those billions provide nothing of value to humanity. They don’t innovate, or create, or even think. They just exist, breeding and consuming.”

  “How can you say that?” Nina protested. “That’s—that’s just…”

  “Nina,” said Frost, leaning closer, “just look at your own country. You can’t have failed to see it. America is dominated by the indolent, the stupid, the wilfully ignorant masses who do nothing but consume. Democracy does nothing but perpetuate the system, because it allows the masses to take the path of least resistance and continue to avoid work, avoid thought, and achieve nothing. And those who should be leading them out of that state have become corrupted by greed, wanting to do nothing more than exploit them—for money!” He sounded almost disgusted by the word. “That is not the role of a leader! The Atlanteans knew that for society to advance, the people had to be led, not left to indulge their gluttony.”

  “But the Atlanteans fell into the same trap,” Nina reminded him. “Remember Critias? ‘They appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were full of avarice and unrighteous power.’ And the gods destroyed them for it.”

  “A mistake that will not be repeated.”

  “It’ll always be repeated! Atlantean or not, everybody’s still human. ‘The human nature got the upper hand,’ as Plato put it.”

  “We will learn from the past.”

  “How?” Nina demanded. “You’re going to do—what? Change the world with a DNA sample from an eleven-thousand-year-old corpse?”

  “That is exactly what we’re going to do!” said Frost. He gestured at the supercomputers. “Until now, these machines have been working on simulations, coming up with a million, a billion variations of the same thing. But without a sample of pure, untainted Atlantean DNA to use as a base, there was no way to know which was the right one. Even our DNA has been changed by time to some degree, and we are the closest there is in the modern world to pure-blooded Atlanteans. But now …” He looked at the black-windowed chamber. “Now, I know exactly what those changes are. And I have been able to take them into account.”

  “Into account for what?” asked Nina.

  “For a way to restore the world to how it used to be—how it should always have been. A world where the Atlanteans retake their place as the rightful rulers of humanity, to lead them to new heights without being held back by the useless, unproductive masses.” He walked across the lab, Kari following. Nina went with them almost against her will, unable to take in what Frost was saying. Had he gone mad? He sounded nearly as crazy as Qobras!

  “This,” said Frost, indicating a glass-sided cabinet with thick rubber seals, “is what the discovery of the true Atlantean DNA has finally let me create. It was one of the variants the computers had simulated—but until now there was no way to know if it was the right one.”

  Nina peered into the cabinet. Inside was a line of glass and steel cylinders filled with a colorless liquid.

  She was certain it wasn’t water.

  “What are they?” she asked uneasily.

  “That,” Frost told her, “is what I call Trident. Poseidon’s most powerful weapon. Each of those cylinders holds in suspension a genetically engineered virus.”

  Nina jumped back from the glass. “What?”

  “It’s perfectly safe,” Kari assured her. “At least to us.”

  “What do you mean, to us?”

  “We are immune,” said Frost, “or rather, the virus is harmless to us. It’s been engineered so that it cannot attack the unique genetic sequence contained in Atlantean DNA, even if the sequence has been mutated. But to anyone who does not possess that DNA sequence … it is one hundred percent lethal.”

  Nina felt as though the air was being drawn out of the room. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “Are you insane? No, don’t answer that—you are insane!”

  “No, Nina, please listen,” implored Kari. “I know this is hard for you to accept, but deep down, if you look past all your social programming, you know we’re right. The world is a mess, and it’s getting worse—the only way to stop it from passing the point of no return is for us to restore the rule of the Atlantean elite.”

  “Thinking that mass murder is a bad thing is not social programming!” Nina spat. “Are you seriously telling me you’re planning to wipe out eighty-four percent of the human race? That’s almost five and a half billion people!”

  “It’s necessary,” said Frost. “If we don’t do it, then humanity will be choked by its own waste. The worthless will outnumber us by hundreds to one, and consume every available resource until they are all gone. This way, those fit to rule will be able to rebuild the world as it should always have been. The Frost Foundation will unite the survivors worldwide.”

  Nina slowly backed away. “With you in charge, huh? You are out of your fucking mind. You’re talking about people, not waste! When were you planning to start your little apocalypse?”

  Frost gave her a grim smile. “I’m not planning anything, Dr. Wilde. I am already doing it.”

  The airless sensation returned. “What?”

  “There’s a plane on the runway across the fjord, an Airbus A380 freighter. It will take off within fifteen minutes, flying first to Paris, then on to Washington. While it is in flight, it will disperse the Trident virus into the air over Eur
ope, then into the North Atlantic jetstream, and finally over the eastern seaboard of the United States. Our projections show that within a month, the virus will have been carried to every populated part of the planet. Everybody who does not carry the Atlantean genome will be infected.”

  “And then what?” Nina whispered.

  “And then …” Frost went over to the chamber, operating a control panel. The black windows depolarized, turning transparent. “This happens.”

  Barely daring to look, Nina slowly stepped forward. The interior of the chamber came into view. An antiseptic white cell, bare except for a stainless-steel toilet bowl and a low bunk, on which lay …

  She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror. “Jonathan…”

  Philby stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, the whites of his eyes stained a bloody red by ruptured blood vessels. His skin was clammy, a deathly gray, chest barely moving with each labored breath.

  “He was infected yesterday,” Frost said in a chillingly matter-of-fact tone. “The Trident virus attacks the autonomic nervous system, shutting down the organs. If it runs its course as the simulations predicted, he’ll be dead within six hours.”

  “Oh my God …” Nina turned away, sickened. “You can’t let him die like that. Please, you made your point—give him the antidote, the vaccine, whatever he needs.”

  “There is no vaccine,” Frost said. “That would defeat its purpose. Once the virus is released, it will do what it was created to do. The only cure is death.”

  “Nina,” said Kari softly, “he got exactly what he deserved. He betrayed us—he betrayed you. He sold out your parents to Qobras. And he was going to do the same thing to you. He wasn’t your friend—the only reason he looked out for you was out of guilt.”

  “Nobody deserves that,” Nina replied. Kari reached up to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off angrily. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Nina …”

  She whirled to face them, filled with a sudden rage. “Did you think I’d go along with this … this genocide? My God! This is insane! This would be the biggest act of … of evil in human history! What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “You’re one of us,” Kari insisted.

  “No! I’m nothing like you! I’m not going to be a part of this!”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Frost stated coldly. “Because this is a situation where either you are with us … or you are opposed to us.”

  “You’re goddamn right I’m opposed to you!”

  “Then you’ll die.” Frost reached into his jacket.

  Time dropped into slow motion as Nina watched him pull out a sleek silver gun. The glinting barrel came around, the black hole of its muzzle pointing at her chest. She wanted to turn and run, but shock and disbelief conspired to stop her, paralyzing her legs. She saw the tendons in the back of his hand tighten, finger about to pull the trigger—

  “Far! No!”

  Kari shoved Frost’s arm just as he fired. The bullet whipped past Nina, hitting the wall behind her. She tried to scream, but only a choked gasp emerged.

  Frost’s expression was one of barely contained fury as Kari desperately pleaded with him in Norwegian. Then his anger subsided. Slightly. “My daughter just saved your life, Dr. Wilde,” he said. “For now.”

  “Nina, please,” Kari said, talking quickly, “I know you’re overwhelmed by all this, but please listen to me. I know you, I know that you’re one of us, that you think like we do. Don’t you see? You can have anything, everything if you join us. Please, just think about it rationally.”

  “Rationally?” Nina gasped. “You’re planning to exterminate most of the human race, and you’re asking me to be rational about it?”

  “This is useless,” said Frost. “I knew she would respond this way when she refused to kill Qobras. She’s been too indoctrinated by her society. She’ll never come around.”

  “She will,” Kari insisted, a hint of desperation entering her voice. “I know she will!”

  “Very well,” he said at last. “She has until the first release of the virus. If she still refuses to change her mind … then you will kill her.”

  Kari gasped. “No, Far, I can’t…”

  “Yes.” Frost’s face was stern. “You will. Do you understand me, Kari?”

  She bowed her head. “Yes, Far.”

  “Good. Then take her to the plane.”

  Kari looked up in confusion. “The plane?”

  “The pilot can give you a countdown to the first release of the virus. I assume you want to allow her every possible second to make the right choice?” Kari nodded. “Then you’ll both know exactly how long she has. If she refuses to change her mind, kill her and dispose of the body over the sea.”

  Still keeping his gun trained on Nina, he went to a telephone and punched in a number. “Security, this is Frost. Have two men come to the Trident lab and accompany my daughter and Dr. Wilde to the airfield. Dr. Wilde is under arrest—I want her handcuffed. If she attempts to escape, kill her.” He glanced over at Kari. “Even if my daughter tells you not to. You have your orders.” He replaced the receiver.

  “Am I supposed to be grateful to you for that?” Nina snarled.

  “Be grateful to Kari. Be very grateful. She’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

  The door slid open, two uniformed guards entering, hands on their guns. Nina offered no resistance beyond a hate-filled glare as her wrists were fastened behind her back.

  “Get off in Paris and use one of the company jets to come home,” Frost told Kari as they left. “Dr. Wilde?”

  “What?” she snapped.

  “I hope you have enough sense to be on that return flight with Kari.”

  Nina said nothing as the door clanged shut behind her.

  Chase looked out of the cockpit window. Ravnsfjord lay ahead.

  He hurried to the hold. “One last thing!” he said to Starkman as he hooked his parachute release line onto the ceiling rail. “Some of these people are civvies. Just ’cause they work for Frost doesn’t automatically make them targets—only shoot at anyone who’s shooting at you!”

  “Always were a do-gooder, weren’t you, Eddie?” Starkman replied.

  “I just don’t like killing anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

  “What if we run into the company lawyers?”

  “That’s tempting… but still no! Okay, everyone hook up!”

  Chase pushed the button to lower the Provider’s rear ramp. The plane was descending rapidly. Freezing wind blasted in with the near-deafening rasp of the plane’s engines. The office buildings passed below; coming up fast was the Frosts’ house, overlooking everything from the top of the crag, and beyond it the biolab.

  The plane roared barely a hundred feet over the house, then the ground dropped away. The minimum altitude at which the parachutes would work was 250 feet, and the terrain between the house and the biolab was just far enough below …

  “Jump!”

  Chase threw himself out. The parachute exploded from its pack as the release line ripped free. At such a low altitude, if the chute didn’t deploy perfectly he would smash into the ground before having a chance to do anything about it.

  Grass and snow and rock rushed towards him, a car heading towards the bridge over the fjord—

  Sudden deceleration hit him, the chute snapping open and yanking the harness tight around his chest.

  He braced himself—

  Whump!

  It was a bruising landing, the parachute barely having enough time to slow him to a survivable speed. He ignored the shock of impact, shrugging off the parachute as he checked his surroundings. The other parachutists were dropping around him, hitting the ground hard. Chase hoped Starkman’s men knew what they were doing. Anyone who was hurt in the landing was screwed—they didn’t have the time or the manpower to carry wounded with them.

  Having dropped its passengers, the C-123 made a sharp turn, pulling up to gain altitude as it rose over the fj
ord.

  A line of smoke lanced out from the edge of the fjord, the trail of a Stinger antiaircraft missile as it homed in…

  And exploded!

  One wing blown off in a burning cloud of fuel, the Provider corkscrewed helplessly into the steep-sided valley, plowing into the rocky wall and bursting apart in a thunderous fireball.

  “Holy shit!” Starkman yelled.

  “Looks like we’re walking home!” Chase shouted back. Now free of his parachute, he readied his weapon, a Heckler and Koch UMP-45 submachine gun. “Okay! Let’s melt the Frost!”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Nina watched in horror from the Mercedes as the plane plunged into the side of the fjord and exploded. “Jesus!”

  “Qobras’s people—it has to be!” Kari shouted. “They’re making a last stand!”

  “Well, hoo-ray for them!” Nina twisted to look out of the rear window. The last of the parachutists were now on the ground. “I hope they blow the place to hell, and your father with it!”

  Slap!

  Nina reeled. Kari had hit her! The hot sting across her cheek wasn’t so much painful as humiliating, but somehow that actually made it worse.

  Kari issued orders as the Mercedes approached the bridge. “Call the security center and warn them that we have fourteen intruders heading for the biolab! And you,” she added, turning to the driver, “get us to the plane, now!”

  “Melt the Frost?” Starkman said in disbelief as the team ran towards the biolab. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

  “Since Tibet,” Chase admitted. He assessed the tactical situation. The open ground provided little cover—for Frost’s men as well as for Starkman’s. The buildings would give their opponents some protection, but it would be easy to outflank them.

  The Stinger had been fired from the security building at the northwestern corner of the facility. If Frost’s men had any other heavy weapons, that was where they would be.

  “Jason! Six men, cover!” He made a chopping gesture towards the security block. Starkman nodded and passed on the order.

  The team of six split off from the main group. Chase quickly advanced on the lab’s entrance. The biolab didn’t have many exits—aside from the main doors and the security entrance, the only other ways in or out were through fire escapes and the ramp leading to the underground garage. Which meant that the closest place any of Frost’s forces could emerge was …