The Atlantis Trilogy Box Set- The Complete Series

by A. G. Riddle

  “What does this have to do with the kids?”

  “My personal theory is that some new kind of therapy inserted new genes into the kids and that those genes had a cascade effect, possibly operating at the epigenetic level as well. We think surviving the Bell is a matter of having the right genes and turning this ‘Atlantis Gene’ on—that’s the key. It’s strange; the therapy operated almost like a mutation.”

  “Mutation?”

  “Yes, a mutation is simply a random change in the genetic code, a genetic dice roll if you will. Sometimes it pays off big, imparting a new evolutionary advantage and sometimes… you get six fingers or four! But this one provided immunity to the Bell. It’s so fascinating. I wonder if I could speak with Dr. Warner. It would be incredibly helpful—”

  “Forget Dr. Warner.” Dorian rubbed his temple. Genetics, epigenetics, mutations. It all added up to the same thing: failed research, no viable therapy for immunity to the Bell, and no time left on the clock. “How many subjects can your Bell room hold?”

  “Ah, we usually limit each trial to fifty subjects, but maybe one hundred, maybe a little more if we pack them in.”

  Dorian gazed at the monitors. A cadre of white-coat-clad eggheads was corralling a new cohort of subjects into the lounge chairs, then hooking them up to clear plastic bags of death. “How long does it take to run?”

  “Not long. Five or ten minutes is about as long as any subject goes.”

  “Five or ten minutes.” His voice was just above a whisper. He leaned back in the chair, turning the idea over in his mind. Then he stood and took a step toward the door. “Start processing all your remaining subjects through the Bell—as quickly as you can.” Dr. Chang stepped forward to protest, but Dorian was already halfway out the door. “Oh, and remember, don’t destroy the bodies. We need them. I’ll be in the nuclear section, Doctor.”

  51

  Immari Corp. Train

  Outside Burang, China

  Tibet Autonomous Region

  Kate sat in silence, watching the green countryside fly by at ninety miles an hour. Across from her, David shifted a little on his side of the closed train compartment. How can he sleep at a time like this? He’ll have a crick in his neck from sleeping like that. Kate leaned forward and nudged his head a little.

  Even if her nerves weren’t going crazy, Kate’s legs hurt too much to sleep. David’s brisk pace on their hike from the plane’s “landing site” to the train station had taken its toll. And so had the sprint inside, to the bank of lockers and number forty-four, which had been their salvation.

  Inside the locker they’d found two outfits—a security outfit for David and a white coat for Kate. There were ID badges, too: Kate was now Dr. Emma West, research associate in “Bell Primary: Genetics Division,” whatever that was. David was Conner Anderson. The pictures on the IDs didn’t match, but they only had to run them through a swipe machine, like a subway or credit card reader, to get on the 10:45 train—apparently the last train of the morning.

  As they boarded the train, Kate turned to David and asked, “What now?”

  David turned her back around and said, “Don’t talk, they could be listening. Follow the plan.”

  “The plan” wasn’t much of one. Her goal was to find the children and get back on the train; David would take out the power and join her. It wasn’t even half a plan. They would probably be caught before they got off the train. And now he was sleeping.

  But… he probably hadn’t slept much the night before. Had he stayed up to see if the men searching the cottage would find the entrance to the bomb shelter? How long had he lain on that concrete floor? And then all the hours in that vibrating antique death trap of a plane. Kate wadded up some of the clothes from her bag and put them between his face and the wall.

  Another thirty minutes passed, and Kate felt the train slowing. In the corridor, people were making a line.

  David grabbed Kate’s arm. When had he woken up? Kate looked at him, panic creeping into her face.

  “Stay calm,” he said. “Remember, you work here. You’re taking the kids for a test. Director’s orders.”

  “What director?” Kate hissed.

  “If they ask that, say it’s above their pay grade and keep walking.”

  Kate tried to ask another question, but David yanked the compartment door open and shoved Kate into the moving line. By the time she looked back, he was several people behind her and moving the other way, putting distance between them. She was alone. She whipped her head back around and swallowed a few times. She could do this.

  She moved with the flow of people, trying to act casual. The workers were mostly Asian, but there were quite a few Europeans, possibly Americans. She was a minority, but she didn’t stick out too much.

  There were several entrances to the giant facility, each with three lines. She spotted the entrance where most of the white coats were gathering and drifted over to it. She stood in line, waiting to swipe her card, trying to get a glimpse of the badges around her. “Bell Auxiliary: Primate Housing.” She looked in the line beside her. “Bell Control: Maintenance and Housekeeping.” What was she again? Bell something. It had genetics in it. She had the overwhelming fear that if she glanced down at her fake badge, someone would point at her and scream “Impostor! Get her!”, like a playground kid calling you out for peeing in your pants.

  Up ahead, white coats were marching forward, scanning their badges like automatons. The line was moving quickly, just as it had at the train station. She now saw something else: six armed guards. Three were spread out, one stationed at each line, scrutinizing every face. The other three loitered behind a chain-link fence, drinking coffee and talking quickly, horsing around with each other like office workers at the water cooler. Each man had an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder as casually as if it were a messenger bag full of memos.

  She had to focus. The badge. Kate slipped her card out and sneaked a peek: “Bell Primary: Genetics Division.” In the line beside her, she saw a tall blonde man, likely in his early forties, holding a card with the same division. He was several people behind her. She would have to wait for him to get through, then follow him.

  “Ma’am—”

  They were talking to her!

  “Ma’am.” The guard pointed to the wide post with the magnetic card reader at the top. Beside her people were swiping and hurrying past.

  Kate fought to steady her hand as she ripped her card across the slot. A different beep. A red light.

  Beside her two more people swiped. Green lights, no beep.

  The guard cocked his head and took a step toward her.

  Her hands were shaking visibly now. Act casual. She got the card in the slot and ran it through, slowly this time. Red light. Bad beep.

  The guards behind the fence had stopped talking. They were looking at her. The guard in her line looked back at the other guards.

  She tried to line up the card for another try, but someone grabbed her hand. “You’re backwards, love.”

  Kate looked up. The blonde man. She couldn’t think. What had he said? “I work here,” Kate said quickly, looking around. Everyone was looking at them. They were blocking two of the three lines.

  “I certainly hope so.” The man took her card. “You must be new,” he said as he perused the card. “Haven’t seen you befo—Hey, this doesn’t look like you.”

  Kate snatched the card. “Don’t—don’t look at the picture. I’m, uh, new here.” She ran a hand through her hair. She was going to get caught, she knew it. The man was still staring at her. Kate tried to think. “They used an old picture. I’ve lost… some weight.”

  “And apparently dyed your hair,” he said skeptically.

  “Yes, well…” Kate sucked in a breath. “Hopefully you’ll keep my secret. Blondes have more fun.” She tried to smile, but she imagined she looked more scared than confident.

  The man nodded and smiled. “Yes, they do.”

  From the back of the line someone shout
ed, “Hey, Casanova, work your mojo on your own time.” Laughs rang out across the line.

  Kate smiled. “How does it go?” She swiped the card again. Red, the beep. She looked up.

  The man grasped her hand, flipped the card, and ran it through. Green. Then he turned to his post and swiped his own card. Green. He glided gingerly past the six scowling guards, and Kate chased after him.

  “Thank you, Doctor—”

  “Prendergast. Barnaby Prendergast.” They turned another corner.

  “Barnaby Prendergast. I was actually going to guess that.”

  “Well, you’re quite cheeky.” He looked over at her. “Quite quick on your feet for someone who couldn’t operate the card reader.”

  Did he know? Kate tried to seem embarrassed; it wasn’t a stretch. “Guns make me nervous.”

  “Then you’ll truly hate it here. Seems like everyone without a white coat is ‘packin’ heat.’” He said the last two words with an American accent. He swiped his card and pushed open a set of wide doors that might have divided sections of a hospital. “Guess they’ll be ready if the trees ever attack.” He snorted and muttered, “Bloody idiots.”

  Ahead of them, several overweight men pushed rolling metal cages across their path. Kate stared. The cages were filled with chimps. When they had passed, Kate realized she was alone in the hall. She jogged down the corridor and caught sight of Barnabus, or whatever his name was. She rushed to catch up with him.

  He stopped at the swipe terminal to another set of doors. “Where did you say you were going, Dr. West?”

  “I… didn’t.” Kate tried to flutter her eyes at him. She felt like a fool. “Where… are you going?”

  “Uh, to my lab in viral. Who are you working with here?” He looked at her, confused. Or was he scrutinizing her?

  Kate panicked. It was so much more complicated than she had thought on the train. What did she think, she’d just walk in like it was a day care and say, “I’m here to pick up the two Indonesian kids?” David’s advice—Just tell them it’s above their pay grade—seemed so simplistic, so off-base now. It was obvious now that he had only said it to put her at ease, to get her off the train and in motion. But her mind was blank. “It’s above your pay grade,” she blurted.

  Barnaby was about to swipe his card, but he pulled up short, his card dangling in the air. “Excuse me?” He looked at her, then glanced around as if trying to figure out which direction a sound was coming from.

  Kate had the urge to run as fast as she could away from him, but she had no idea which way to go. She needed to figure out where they kept the children. “I’m doing autism research.”

  Barnaby let his card fall to his side as he turned to face Kate. “Really? I’m not aware of any autism research.”

  “With Dr. Grey.”

  “Dr. Grey?” Barnaby’s eyes rolled back as he thought. “Haven’t heard of him…” His skeptical expression slowly faded as he shuffled toward a white phone on the wall beside the door. He reached back for it. “Maybe I should, ah, get you some help finding your way.”

  “No!”

  Kate’s outburst stopped him in his tracks.

  “Don’t. I’m not lost. I’m working… with two children.”

  He drew his hand back to his side. “Oh, so it’s true. We’ve heard rumors but everyone is so hush-hush about it. So cloak-and-dagger.”

  He didn’t know about the children. What did it mean? Kate needed to buy more time, needed to think. “Uh, yes. I’m sorry I can’t say more.”

  “Well I’m sure it’s above my pay grade, as you say.” He mumbled something else, maybe “as if you know my bloody pay grade.” “Honestly, though, I have to say, what would you be doing with kids in a place like this? We’re talking about a zero-percent survival rate. Zero percent. Guess your ‘pay grade’ justifies it. Is that it?”

  A new thought gripped Kate, a terror she hadn’t considered: zero-percent survival rate. The children could already be dead.

  “Did you hear me?”

  But Kate couldn’t answer. She just stood there, frozen.

  He could see it—the fear in her eyes. He cocked his head to the side. “You know, there is something off about you. Something’s not right here.” He reached. He had the phone.

  Kate leapt for him, grabbing the phone from his hand.

  His eyes grew wide, a look of how dare you.

  Kate looked around. David’s words—They could be listening—echoed in her head. It might already be too late. She hung the phone up and took Barnaby in a hug, whispering in his ear. “Listen to me. Two children are being held here. They’re in danger. I’m here to rescue them.”

  He pushed her away from him. “What? Are you mad?!”

  He looked exactly the way Kate had two days ago in that van when David had questioned her.

  She leaned in again. “Please. You have to trust me. I need your help. I need to find those children.”

  He searched her face. His mouth puckered like he had tasted something awful and couldn’t spit it out. “Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at, some security drill or sick game, but I told you I don’t know anything about those children—if there even are any. I’ve just heard rumors.”

  “Where would they keep them?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never even seen the subjects. I just have access to the labs.”

  “Guess. Please, I need your help.”

  “I don’t know… the residential wings, I assume.”

  “Take me there.”

  He waved his card at her, “Hello? I don’t have access. I just told you, I can only get into the labs.”

  Kate looked down at her card. “I bet I can.”

  The security guard watched as the woman accosted the man, took the phone from him, then grabbed him and whispered in his ear—possibly a threat. The man certainly looked scared. They had just had another seminar on sexual harassment, but it was mostly about men making women have sex with them. So this wasn’t that. But it could be something. The guard picked up the phone. “Yeah, this is Post Seven; I think we may have a problem in Bell Primary.”

  52

  Immari Corp. Research Complex

  Outside Burang, China

  Tibet Autonomous Region

  David waited in line as they processed the security guards through. The structure was massive—beyond anything he had expected. Three giant vase-shaped cooling towers reached into the sky, billowing white smoke into the clouds. They loomed over the buildings.

  The complex must be some kind of combined hospital/medical facility and power plant. Other trains were arriving from other tracks. All the personnel must be shipped in from off-site; there was a very wide quarantine zone around the site, maybe even a hundred miles. Why? The cost would have been staggering. Building something like this in the middle of nowhere and carting supplies and personnel in every day?

  “Sir!”

  David looked up. His turn. He swiped the card. A red beep. He looked over. He had it backwards. He flipped the card and got a green beep.

  He proceeded into the building. Now the hard part: where to go?

  Another thought tickled the back of his mind: Kate. She was in way over her head. He had to finish his part and get to her, fast.

  He found a map on the wall: the emergency escape route. There was no reactor room on the floor. In fact, based on where the water vapor towers had been, he didn’t think it was even in this building.

  He moved out of the main corridor, following the flow of mostly men into an open area with rows of lockers. Most of the guards were either conversing with each other or grabbing weapons and radios and heading off.

  He heard a few guards talking about the power plant, and he followed them, grabbing a radio and sidearm from the rack before he left. The rear exit to the small security building opened onto a small courtyard, and David got a glimpse of the three buildings beyond: the enormous power plant; a building without many windows, maybe a medical facility; and a smaller buildi
ng with windows and the Immari Corporate flag flying from the roof—probably the administrative center.

  The men ahead of him were lost in conversation.

  David reached back to feel the backpack, wondering if he would have enough explosives. Probably not. The place was bigger than he expected.

  At the entrance to the power plant, an obese guard sat on a barstool, inspecting IDs and consulting a printed page on the podium in front of him. He extended his sausage fingers to David without a word.

  David handed over the ID. In the line outside the train, he had scratched the picture mostly off, just as a precaution.

  “What happened to your badge?”

  “My dog.”

  The man half snorted and began searching the list. His face slowly contorted, as if the list had turned into a language he couldn’t read. “I don’t have you down for today.”

  “That’s what I said when they woke me up this morning. Now if you’re saying I can go, I’m out of here.” David reached for the ID.

  The listmaster threw up a sausage hand. “No, hold on now.” He buried his head in the list again and took a pen from behind his ear. He glanced from the ID back to the list every few seconds, scrawling “Conner Anderson” at the bottom of the page in childish block letters. He handed the ID back to David and sausage waved the next guy in line.

  The next room was some kind of lobby, with a receptionist at a desk and two guards talking. They eyed him as he walked past, then resumed talking. David found another emergency evacuation route poster and began making his way to the reactor section.

  To his relief, his card worked on every door he came to. He was almost to the reactor room.

  “Hey, stop.”

  David turned around. It was one of the guards from the lobby.

  “Who are you?”

  “Conner Anderson.”

  The guard looked confused, then drew his gun. “No you’re not. Don’t move.”