by A. G. Riddle
A father. That was the most apt term. That’s what Ares was to him.
And they would be together again soon.
Dorian tried to imagine their reunion, what he would say, what Ares would say. And after… what else did Ares have left to teach him? What would Dorian learn about himself? He knew it now. That was his true desire—to finally unravel the greatest mystery of all: how he had come to be what he was.
Ares and the answers waited beyond the portal. They would reach it soon.
CHAPTER 93
CDC
Atlanta, Georgia
Paul Brenner opened the door and walked to his nephew’s bedside. The boy was still.
“How do you feel?”
The boy looked up at him. He started to speak, but no words came. What’s happening to him? Paul wondered.
He checked the vitals. All normal. Physically, the boy had made a miraculous recovery.
Paul rubbed his temples. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I think straight? His mind seemed to be in a fog, a cloud of confusion he couldn’t escape.
David tried to wrap his mind around Janus’s words. “You’re taking us back to the stone ages? You’re… devolving us?”
“I’m making you safe. Have you not understood a word I’ve said? An enemy of unimaginable strength is hunting my people. You have some of us inside of you. Regression, devolution is the only chance you have. It will save your species.”
“Assuming we’re even the same species. Look, we’re not going back. I don’t accept this.”
“I respect that, Mr. Vale. Indeed, that’s why I chose you—you fight for your own kind, you sacrifice for them. You follow the Human Code. But it betrays you in this moment. You just heard the history of your world and your species. Those primates that came down from the trees and sought sustenance on the savannas, they were survivors. Ask the chimpanzees and gorillas how they feel about their choice to remain in the trees. It was easier there, but those who ventured out, who chose the hard road, actually grew stronger, adapted, and evolved—the few who survived. The tribes that marched to the sea during Toba, they were survivors too. That is the defining trait of your species. This is how you will survive this trial.” Janus jerked his head toward the tunnel. “The cube is through—”
David grabbed a lantern. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“It has been for a very long time, Mr. Vale.”
David had led Janus and Milo out of the tunnel, toward the rays of sunlight that cut across the tunnel opening. The glowing yellow cube hovered just beyond the newly carved entrance.
David crossed the threshold first. He swept the room with his assault rifle. Nothing moved. In the corner, a pool of blood spread out. David crept toward it, fearing what he would see.
Kamau. Knife wound to the chest.
David bent and pressed his fingers to the African’s neck. He felt the cold skin before the lack of a pulse. Still, he held it there, waiting, refusing to believe it.
Janus and Milo both stared at the scene. Apparently neither knew what to say.
Finally, David rose and walked over to Kate’s computer. He closed it and stuffed it and the other equipment in the backpack. “Let’s move out.”
Outside the building, David led the group back to the square. Their helicopter was gone.
He turned to Janus. “What’s the plan? We can’t beat them to Germany—they’re too far ahead of us.”
“There is an alternative,” Janus said. “If we can get there in time.”
“The Knights have a plane,” Milo said. “Can you fly it, Mr. David?”
“I can fly anything,” David said. Landing had sometimes been an issue, but he didn’t mention that. There was no need to worry them.
Dorian watched the sea below turn to land. Italy. Soon they would cross into Germany, and they would reach the portal shortly after.
The plague had crushed continental Europe. NATO had folded early, offering their resources to the humanitarian effort. Nothing could stop him now.
Kate opened her eyes. Dorian stared at her.
She didn’t blink now. She wasn’t scared of him any more. She knew who he was, and she knew who she was. History wouldn’t repeat itself.
“Everything okay, Kate?” Dorian asked sarcastically.
She matched his tone. “I’m good.”
The helicopter touched down a half hour later, and Dorian dragged her out, onto the ground.
Humvees circled the portal, which glistened, giving off wisps of white light into the cold silent night.
They passed the Humvees and Kate saw the dead soldiers lying on the ground. Plague victims. The German government must have dispatched troops to investigate the portal, but they had fallen sick. Those that hadn’t died must have fled.
Dorian dragged her toward the glowing portal.
“Stay with me,” he called behind him, to Shaw. “It closes behind us.”
As Shaw pulled up even, the three of them crossed the threshold, and they were standing in a different place.
To Kate, it felt like the corridors in the tombs in Antarctica. But the hallways here were more narrow. She knew this place. It was her ship—the deep space transport that had brought her and Janus here.
Kate tried to take a breath, but she found that she couldn’t inhale fully. Dorian’s eyes flashed on her, but before he could say anything, air began rushing into the space. Did the ship recognize Kate? Was it coming back to life for her? Yes, that was it.
Dorian tugged at her arm, yanking her down the dimly lit hallway.
He paused at an intersection. He seemed to be trying to remember where he was going. Or had gone?
“This way,” he said.
The soft beads of light from the floor and ceiling seemed to grow brighter. No, Kate realized she was just getting used to the darkness.
Another change was gradually setting in. She was adjusting. The last memory, her death in Antarctica at Ares’, or Dorian’s, hands had changed her.
Kate had always had trouble relating to others. She never fully “got” people. She desperately wanted to have fulfilling personal relationships, but it never happened naturally for her. It had always been work.
She had assumed that this personal desire had drawn her to autism research, to seek a cure for people who lacked the brain wiring for understanding social cues and managing language. She now knew her motivation was much more than that.
Dorian had been right: she wasn’t great at reading people. She was easily misled. But now the game was strategy, and she knew the history. She knew the players. And she knew how it would unfold. She was smarter than he was, and she would win.
CHAPTER 94
Outside Ceuta
David had pushed the plane to its max speed. There was no risk of exhausting its fuel.
On the horizon, Ceuta came into view. David activated the radio and began conversing with air control. The rail guns could easily blow the plane out of the sky, and he wasn’t exactly sure what sort of response he would get. He didn’t have any alternatives.
The response was swift. “You are cleared for landing, Mr. Vale.”
David’s landing was bumpy at best, but it didn’t evoke a reaction from either of his passengers. They were on the ground, and they were alive. And so was Kate, as far as he knew. One step at a time.
As David, Janus, and Milo exited the aircraft, David spotted a convoy approaching the airfield. He subconsciously tightened his grip on his assault rifle.
The convoy stopped, and the door of the lead Humvee swung open. The Berber chief, the same one who had branded him days earlier and helped him take the base, stepped out and sauntered over to him. A smile spread across her face.
“I thought perhaps that I would never see you again.”
“Likewise.”
She grew serious. “Have you returned to resume your command?”
“No. Just passing through. I need a jeep.”
Fifteen minutes later, David was driving recklessl
y toward the hills where he had emerged, days earlier, when he’d left the Atlantean ship wearing an Immari colonel’s uniform.
“I don’t know where the entrance is,” David called back to Janus.
“I’ll direct you,” Janus replied.
They drove on for what felt like an eternity to David. The slope grew steeper and the rocky terrain more treacherous. With each passing second, he imagined his chances of rescuing Kate slipping away.
Finally, Janus tapped his shoulder. “Stop here.”
David pulled up next to a steep rock face. Before he’d even come to a complete stop, Janus bounded out and started striding purposefully ahead. David and Milo hopped out and tried to catch up.
“What’s the plan, Janus?” David shouted ahead. Janus had refused to share any real details of his plan on the plane ride, and that made David nervous.
“We’ll get to that,” Janus called back. He turned a corner, and when David cleared the turn, the scientist was gone. David spun around, searching. The rock face of the mountain to his left looked like the one he had emerged from, but David wasn’t sure.
“Hey!” David called. He ran to the rock face and felt it. It was solid. He paced back and forth. Milo merely stood there, as if he were waiting in line for something.
“Janus!” David screamed. Janus had betrayed him. This was his plan all along—
Janus emerged right out of the solid rock, and as he did so, the projection of the rock face dissolved behind him. “I had to disable the forcefield. Follow me.”
“Oh. Well, you could have…” David shook his head and fell in behind Janus, who led them down the tunnel the cube had carved—the path David had followed out. They took the same elevator David had used.
During David’s time here, all the doors had been locked. Now they opened as the three men approached.
Janus cut left, leading them into a room with four doors.
“What now?” David asked.
“Now we wait. If I’m right, Kate will know what to do. She will not only release the tube that holds Ares, she will open the entire ship. That will be our opening. It will be a very, very short window to do what we have to do.”
Janus related the rest of his plan, and David merely nodded. He was out of his element; he had no choice but to trust Janus.
David turned to Milo and held out his sidearm for him to take.
Milo eyed it, then took a small step back.
“Milo, if anyone besides us comes through that door, you have to shoot them.”
“I cannot, Mr. David—”
“You have to—”
“I know. I must do it to survive. But it is not in me. I know if the time comes, I cannot pull the trigger. I cannot take another life. On my journey to the Ark in Malta, I learned many things. The most important thing I learned is who I truly am. I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. David, but I also cannot lie to you, and I will not pretend to be something I am not.”
David nodded. “Believe me, I’m not disappointed, Milo. And I hope the world never gives you time or reason to change.” For a brief moment, he thought about himself, in his grad school days, before that building had buried him and started him on his own journey of vengeance.
Janus walked to the wall. A panel opened as he approached. He took out another yellow cube and began working his fingers in the light that emerged around it.
He returned to Milo and handed him the cube. “This is a cube similar to the one I used in the catacombs under Malta. It will not take a life, but it will incapacitate everyone within reach—you as well, Milo. And it won’t work on Atlanteans, obviously. But perhaps it will give you some time, time for an ally to arrive.”
“Got any more high-tech weapons?” David asked.
“Nothing of use. Just follow the plan. And follow my cube.” Janus inched closer to the portal door and held the cube up, ready to release it.
“I want a cure for the plague before we go through.”
“I told you, Mr. Vale, that discussion is finished. You and Kate share the pure form of the Atlantis Gene. You will both survive as you are.”
“Unacceptable.”
“Your acceptance is not required.”
Dorian brought Kate to a stop before a set of double doors.
He worked the panel and the doors parted.
Seven tubes stood in the room. The middle one held Ares. His eyes followed them, cold and unblinking.
Dorian stared at him for a long moment. “Release him,” he said without turning to face Kate.
She held her bound hands up and wiggled her fingers. “Release me first.”
Dorian spun on her. “You can manage.”
“I can’t.” She motioned to the panel. “It’s impossible to work the system with my hands bound. Untie me, and I’ll let him out.” She paused. “What’s the matter? You think both of you can’t handle me? Or all three of you can’t?”
Dorian nodded to Shaw, who took the assault knife out and snapped the zip tie in half.
Kate walked to the control panel. She felt Ares’ eyes following her.
Her next move would determine her fate, and that of many others.
The memories were clearer now, and the most vivid ones were of people, more than places. Janus. They had studied a hundred worlds over thousands of years. He had stayed the same. Somewhere along the way, she had changed. She had grown a bit more compassionate, more reflective, and more driven. And she longed to be with someone more like herself: someone with intellect and passion. Someone like David.
However, one thing about Janus stuck out in her mind above all else: he was the smartest person she had ever known. She was counting on that. The opening she was about to create would leave no margin for error.
She manipulated the cloud of blue light that rose from the panel.
Around her, lights snapped on and the other control panels flickered to life.
The tube slid open and Ares stepped out.
“Well done, Dorian.”
“Now, David.”
The portal door opened, and Janus rushed through, David close on his heels.
Janus flung the cube into the hallway and it raced away, a yellow wake of light marking its path.
The cube would find Kate, and David would lead her back to the portal. Janus had promised David that he would take care of the ship. He couldn’t allow it to fall into Dorian’s or Ares’ hands.
David chased after the cube. From the adjacent corridor, he heard Janus’s boots pounding the floor.
As soon as Ares stepped out of the tube, Kate lunged across the room at Dorian. Her attack took him by surprise. Her fist landed square on his jaw, sending him into the wall, then to the ground. She fell on top of him, and she felt Shaw’s hands grip her, pulling her back. But her distraction had succeeded. Had she bought enough time? The answer came in a blinding yellow-white light that erupted throughout the room.
David pumped his legs harder, racing down the corridor. Up ahead, the glowing cube ducked into a room and flashed. David heard a scream. He pressed on.
Shaw screamed out in pain, then fell to the floor beside Kate and Dorian and began writhing back and forth.
Kate was on her feet and out the door, but hands grabbed her. She tried to break free, but the strong hands spun her around.
David.
“Come on,” he said as he sprinted down the corridor.
Dorian’s ears rang, and he saw spots. Someone jerked him up. The panel on the opposite wall was exploding. What was happening?
He felt the ship shudder.
Ares slapped Dorian, and held his face. “Focus, Dorian. Janus is activating the self-destruct. We have to move.” He pulled Dorian up and out of the room.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian saw Shaw lying there, rolling in agony. Dorian gripped the doorframe. “Adam!”
Ares pulled him away and the double doors closed. “We have to leave him. Don’t be a fool, Dorian.” He dragged him down the corridor.
Another
blast threw them to the ground.
Dorian leapt up and started back toward the room where Shaw was still crying out.
Ares grabbed Dorian’s shoulders and pinned them to the wall. “I won’t leave you. If you won’t leave him, you’ll kill us both, and everyone down below. Choose, Dorian.”
Dorian shook his head. His brother, his only family… He couldn’t make that call.
The hands shook his shoulders, slamming him into the wall again. “Choose.”
Dorian felt himself turn away from Shaw, away from the only person in the world he truly cared about. Then he and Ares were running. Another blast. They would never make it.
Janus keyed the final sequences into the ship and stepped back, watching the display show the ship’s sections explode and decompress. The massive ship would soon be a burned out wreck.
But she would be safe.
That was all that mattered—the only reason he had come here or to any of the other hundreds of worlds.
Another shudder swept the ship. Death would come soon for him. He had finally done it—given his life to save her, something he had willed himself to do every day for thirteen thousand years in that chamber under the Bay of Gibraltar. It was so easy now, so simple. Janus knew why: he would never awaken, never resurrect. He wouldn’t wake up to remember his death, would never confront the same kind of endless agony the people in Ares’ resurrection vessel endured. He would die knowing he had saved the only person he had ever cared about. In that moment, he understood the stories of Kate’s father. His sacrifice in Gibraltar. And Martin. Maybe subspecies 8472 had come further than he had estimated. Even so, it wouldn’t matter soon. Another blast sent a shudder through the bridge, and Janus steadied himself.
