The Secret of Atlantis (Citadel World Book #2)

by Kir Lukovkin

  “Five, four...” the autopilot counted down.

  “We're going for a ride now!” Vasilevs chuckled.

  “Landlord, look at that!”

  “The bore has accelerated to ten thousand revolutions per minute,” Paul pointed at the central screen.

  Rick suddenly realized that everything was completely different to what he had originally thought.

  “Stop the launch!” he shouted.

  “It's too late!” Vasilevs looked back again. “We're going back to your home! Be happy that you're still alive!”

  “Two, one...”

  “Paul!” Rick shouted in desperation. “Cancel the launch!”

  Paul was about to stretch out his hand to the panel, but Vasilevs intercepted it, “No!”

  “Launch!” the speakers announced.

  Paul also shouted something, but his voice was drowned in the roar of the launching capsule. The compartment jolted and leaned forward. Rick was very happy that he was well secured, unlike Vasilevs who managed to hit his forehead on the instrument panel. The capsule kept inclining. His blood stuck to his face and circles appeared in front of his eyes because of the pulsating pain in the back of his head, which made it difficult to watch the central screen.

  It was then that Vasilevs, who had managed to pull on the harnesses and fix himself in his seat issued and order, “Corporal, read out the messages!”

  “Maximum revolution speed reached,” Paul immediately replied.

  The screen went black and then lit up with a field separated into quadrants, with a blue dot flashing at the top.

  The capsule stopped bending over and started to slide, and the roar behind the aft end of the capsule stopped being low and heavy, gradually changing to a piercing shriek. Then it immediately stopped, changing to a rattling and clanging sound in front.

  The capsule started to shake violently. Paul was shouting something to Vasilevs and pointing at the screen, but Rick could not hear him. The rattling sound then changed to an even rustle and a low hum, as the autopilot reported, “Calculated course determined. Depth — ten meters.”

  Paul and Vasilevs looked at each other. Rick closed his eyes and his shoulders shook, but this was not the shake of the capsule, it was him starting to laugh uncontrollably.

  “Fifteen meters,” the autopilot reported. “Sandstone located along the course, density of two and a half thousand kilograms per cubic meter.”

  Rick was now howling with laughter. Even the pain at the back of his head seemed to recede for a while.

  “Shut it!” Vasilevs barked and turned to Paul. “Where are we flying to? Answer me, corporal!”

  “Flying!” Rick was splitting his sides. “You idiot!”

  “Landmaster...” Paul ventured carefully. “We're not flying. We are descending below the ground!”

  Vasilevs froze, staring back at him. Paul hurriedly turned away, pretending to study the monitor and the values on the instrument panel. The blue dot on the screen began to slowly descend towards the center of the quadrants on the field, leaving a dotted line behind it. Rick closed his eyes again — the pain in the back of his skull flared up again.

  “Where are we going?” Vasilevs asked suddenly.

  Paul did not give an immediate reply and only reacted after he was shoved in the shoulder.

  “It says... Five hundred meters until the point of destination. The calculated speed is thirty meters a minute. We will be there in a quarter of an hour.”

  “Where, you moron?” Vasilevs shoved Paul's shoulder again. “Tell me!”

  “There's just a message in some unknown language here,” Paul muttered.

  “So read it!”

  “I can't!”

  Rick opened his eyes.

  “But you know how to read!” Vasilevs roared.

  “I don't know these letters! This is another language. Maybe Rick knows it.”

  Paul looked back for the first time.

  “We'll deal with him yet.”

  The message jumped in front of his eyes, so Rick barely managed to make out some of the letters of the Greek alphabet. He noticed an iota, the hook of the nu and the squiggle of an alpha. All the rest dissolved into a moving line in his eyes.

  “I thought better of your corporal!” Vasilevs continued. “But it seems that I was mistaken.”

  “No, Landmaster, I will surprise you yet!” Paul suddenly replied and quickly ran his fingers along the keys of the control panel.

  Vasilevs did not have the time to say anything else when the hum and rattle of the bore suddenly became quieter. The capsule changed its angle slightly, raising its nose towards the horizon. The autopilot reported the recalculation of the time and speed of travel. The noise and vibration soon stopped annoying Rick. The capsule moved through the earth, heading towards and unknown target.

  The depth indicator went up to three figures. Rick tried to focus on it, but that made his head spin even more. He did not need to think about where they were heading, but slow down his breathing, have a rest and manage his pain.

  He tried to relax and thought about his friends and relatives in Thermopolis, not noticing how his thoughts became slow and fragmented. His body won out in the end and his mind sunk into sleep.

  For a while, two voices kept sounding in the darkness. One was low and rough and the other was fresh and clear. The voices sometimes argued with each other. Finally, silence fell and then another sound of the voices, which lasted for only a few moments and quickly got consumed by the monotonous vibration and the humming of the engine.

  The capsule growled as it methodically chewed up the earth, but Rick could no longer hear it as he dreamed of his native Thermopolis.

  He saw his sister and Kyoto. He talked to Maya.

  Y

  “GET UP!”

  Rick felt someone kick his leg and opened his eyes. Vasilevs towered over him, leaning on the armrests of his seat. Judging by the position of his body and the instrument panel behind his back, the capsule was laying on its side.

  “We have arrived,” Vasilevs announced gloomily.

  He measured Rick with a hateful glance.

  “How deep are we?” Rick asked hoarsely.

  “Five hundred meters,” Paul replied and got out of his seat.

  “The message,” Vasilevs reminded. “Show it to him.”

  Paul bent over the panel again, pressed a pair of buttons and a single Greek word appeared on the screen.

  “What is this?” Vasilevs pointed.

  Paul pressed some buttons on the panel and the metallic voice of the autopilot read it out over the speakers, “Hierusalem.”

  “Jerusalem,” Rick corrected him. “I know as much as you do, believe it or not. This name probably means something else, because the ancient city which bore this name is unlikely to be underground. There is only one way to find out the truth — coming outside and seeing for ourselves.”

  “All right then,” the Landmaster said calmly and unfastened the buckle holding down the harnesses on Rick's chest.

  Rick almost fell onto the floor. Paul caught him in time, helped him to sit down and started to cut through the wires which immobilized his arms and legs.

  “What's outside?” Rick asked with interests. “How much oxygen is there? Can you bring it up on the screen?”

  “Just a moment.”

  Paul cut off the ties and returned to the panel to press some buttons. Rick raised his eyes — eighty percent oxygen.

  “We can breathe. That's already good.”

  He started to rub at his numb hands and feet and managed to soon get up. However, his injured foot immediately reminded him of itself. The Landmaster used a painkiller injector on himself and gave the second one to Rick so that he would not have to deal with his wound. The medicine worked quickly and all three of them went outside.

  The capsule lay at the bottom of the cave that had some kind of weakly phosphorescing mineral in the walls. Rick took a look around and noticed light coming from afar, but Paul
was even faster.

  “We probably need to go that way,” he said, pointing in the direction of the light.

  “Pass the weapon to me, corporal,” Vasilevs held out his hand and Paul reluctantly gave his blaster to him. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

  They headed towards the source of the light. The cave was clearly man-made, with its level floor, smooth walls and vaulted ceiling. Following two dozen paces, the floor inclined steeply. It was good that they discovered a stone stairway, otherwise they would have had to descend without ropes at a really acute angle.

  When the three of them reached the bottom, they saw another cave, which looked more like a hall with a gigantic silvery-yellow sphere in the center. It seemed that its surface was opalescent as it constantly changed color. The sphere exuded heat.

  They all stopped opposite the sphere as they could not go any further. It seemed to Rick that he had seen the light play like this before, but he could not remember where. Paul also examined the glowing surface with interest. Vasilevs sniffed, as if he could smell something beyond the obstacle.

  “It looks like a force field,” he suddenly said.

  Rick immediately remembered that it really was a protective shield which was almost like the one at the entrance to the corridor from the catwalk where Vasilevs run away from them as soon as the rollers came out of all the other passages.

  He raised his hand, about to touch the surface, when Vasilevs shouted at him to stop and said to Paul, “Go first, corporal.”

  Paul only hesitated for a minute, nodded and resolutely stepped forward, disappearing behind the obstacle.

  Unlike the defensive curtain that they came across up top, Rick and Vasilevs did not see a washed out silhouette or hear any foreign sounds coming from the sphere.

  Vasilevs gave Rick a meaningful look, so he stepped after Paul.

  He was shrouded in fog. His head began to spin slightly, while he felt a prickling in his finger and pain in his injured leg and head. However, as soon as his sight was clear, the pain went way and Rick cried out in amazement. He found himself in a spacious and well-lit hall with a podium in the center. There were rounded steps leading up to the top of the structure. It was perfectly clean here. Rick had never ever seen such cleanliness.

  Paul was already rising up the steps, when Vasilevs called out to him as he passed the barrier.

  “Be careful, corporal!” he whispered. “Follow me.”

  Bending down a little and looking around all the time, he quickly crept up the stairs. Paul followed close behind.

  Rick shook his head in annoyance, but followed after them. When they had almost reached the top, he noticed how Paul and Vasilevs stopped, not daring to look over the edge and waited for him. The three of them then quickly stepped out onto the top of the structure and froze as they stared at the old man sitting behind an oval table.

  Holograms flickered over the table, as well as the blueprints of some sort of complex buildings and devices with diagrams and graphs by their side. Noticing the newcomers at last, the old man turned away from the holograms and waved his hand, immediately collapsing the light show above his table.

  Rick, Paul and Vasilevs stepped towards the table simultaneously. The old man observed them with interest, moving his intelligent and colorless eyes from one of them to another. He was clean shaven and his shoulder length gray hair was gathered into a neat ponytail. The old man wore a loose toga, gathered with a golden ring upon his shoulder.

  Rick had a feeling that the old man had been waiting for them.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them,” Vasilevs demanded, aiming his blaster at the old man. “What is this place? Answer me.”

  “The only nano-silicon bio-molecular replicator in the world,” the old man calmly replied and smiled sadly.

  Vasilevs frowned, because he did not understand what was said, but calmed down because he realized that he was deep under the group in an extremely clean place, which contained nothing apart from a table, for some reason.

  Paul did not understand the words either, but the word “replicator” was familiar to Rick as he had come across it in the educational program that he had completed when he was still back in Thermopolis. However, he still could not understand the meaning of this combination of words as he lacked knowledge.

  “We have come from Atlantis,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Did your defense systems tell you?” Vasilevs stepped forward. “I see that this is so. Why are you sitting down here? Why don't you use your replicator and stop the madness up top?”

  The old man kept looking at him with the same interest and sad smile. He suddenly sniffed and asked, “Do you think I could?”

  “I think so,” Vasilevs glanced back at Paul, as if looking for his support, but then immediately got himself together and his face became stern. He continued, “You're the scientist and you know better, of course. I still think that you have the power to impose order upon the city.”

  “I would like it to be so,” the old man sighed.

  “What?” Vasilevs began to be angry. “There is nothing you can do at all? Sitting here in your pristine replicator...” He turned in his place. “There isn't even anywhere to spit! Can't you do anything?”

  “You are very excited,” the old man raised his hand. “I beg you, there is no need to get so stressed out.”

  “This is called a compact blaster,” Vasilevs thrust the weapon under the old man's nose. “It can kill, all I need is to aim and pull the trigger.”

  “Yes. But what is the point of killing?” the old man was genuinely surprised.

  “Are you making fun of me?” Vasilevs asked aggressively.

  “Not at all. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

  “Landmaster,” Paul dared to interrupt. “I think that this man knows a lot and that he would be useful. He's going to answer all of our questions anyway. Isn't that right?”

  He turned to the old man, who nodded with a serene expression on his face.

  “Yes, you're right,” Vasilevs agreed. “Ask him about everything.”

  “My name is Paul and I am a corporal of the Division. This is my commander, Landmaster Vasilevs. And this is Rick, he's... Anyway, that's not important.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” the old man replied. “To be honest, I knew who you are. My name is Nivan. I haven't interacted with anyone alive for a long time. I am not used to people at all now. I just observe them more and more.”

  “All right. Now then...” it was Paul's turn to throw sidelong glances as he searched for support, but for some reason, he looked at Rick instead of Vasilevs. “We need your help.”

  “I will help you in any way I can.”

  Paul was completely lost, with no idea what to ask. It was then that Rick spoke.

  “What is the “Gaia” program?”

  “It's a program for the colonization of Earth-type planets,” Nivan answered without hesitation.

  “Colonization... You mean the settlement of other planets?” Rick waited for the old man to nod and then asked, “What for?”

  “That's an odd question,” Nivan chuckled. “Humanity has long used up the resources of the Earth. We needed to find a new place and a new space for life. Humanity had too many ongoing problems that demanded its attention so it could never solve its greatest one — the demographic explosion, which led to an increase in our biomass and became critical for the ecology of the Earth. We are locusts that have consumed the field.”

  “What about Uranus then?” Rick moved on to the next question. “What is that?”

  “That's the interstellar flight program,” Nivan smiled. “The two programs are directly connected.”

  “I thought that Thermopolis was the only citadel for a long time,” Rick scratched the top of his head quizzically. “Until I came across the ruins of another tower and then found Atlantis and its inhabitants. Was Thermopolis not enough?”

  “Thermopolis was only a step sideways on the way to the abyss,
” the old man said. “Much more was required to avoid falling into it.” He moved in his chair, waved his hand and a hologram of the bust of the great architect appeared above the table. “Archimedes Spanidis, the creator of Thermopolis. It was his achievement that there was more than one citadel built on earth.”

  Nivan waved his hand again and the hologram disappeared. He put his fingers together into the shape of a dipper and a small dip appeared in the table and the covering melted in that place like wax, spinning into a little whirlwind and growing, sculpting a very standard plastic glass, which filled with water just as unexpectedly.

  Before the amazed eyes of the newcomers, Nivan unhurriedly downed the water, put the glass aside and continued.

  “Six more towers were constructed after the first one. Spanidis did this to preserve the variety of Earth's civilizations. European culture, Slavic world, Asia and Africa and the worlds of the peoples of Latin and North America. The towers were practical clones of each other in terms of structure and content, fulfilling several functions at the same time. They were a living space, a place of learning and a seed of the human race in case humanity died out and even six of the seven towers would be destroyed. You must agree, it is better to have seven chances than one, even though their number did not reach seven in the end.”

  Everyone nodded their agreement.

  “Three functional modes were built into the towers,” Nivan moved his hand to call up a diagram again, which was an exact copy that they had seen on the underground level where they found the capsule. “One of them is stasis, or hibernation, the other is the spaceship mode and the third is the colonizing city mode. As you could easily have guessed, the three are attached to the Chronos, Uranus and Gaia programs, which were named after ancient Greek gods. In that way, every tower was not just an intergalactic transport model, it was also a transformer. A device which could change depending on the current situation and the active program.

  This was Mahsood's idea. He was a rich young man that had ordered the building of the first citadel and died from a terrible disease. The scale of his plan is beyond imagining. Only a very wise and far-sighted man could have thought of something like that. It is twice as incredible considering his young age. Before he died, Mahsood left his last instructions regarding the project to save humanity to the architect. It turned out that the rich Arab had financed breakthrough scientific projects. His group of companies was involved in the development of advanced technologies, such as renewable energy, new types of fuel, gravitational studies, neural networks, bio-electronics, molecular engineering, artificial intelligence and many other things.” “All of these developments,” Nivan spread his hands, “have made it possible to build the tower and this shelter and have allowed me to keep a healthy mind and spirit for such an unexpectedly long time. Of course, the research was top secret and it would not have been good for the leadership of other countries to know about it...”