by A. G. Riddle
“We are prepared. We will leave tomorrow for the highlands.”
“Have you warned the other settlements?”
“We have sent word.” He continued to look down. “But they will not heed our warning. They say they have mastered this world. They do not fear the water.”
The primitive temple disappeared, replaced by glass and steel walls, covered mostly by holographic displays.
Kate stood in Alpha Lander’s control center, beside her partner, staring at the global map.
The coastlines across southern Asia wavered. The floodwaters were advancing, changing the continent forever, sinking the settlements along the coast, some of which would be lost permanently.
The hologram switched to a satellite view of a group of humans hiking into the mountains, away from the floodwaters. They carried the stone box she had seen—the Ark.
Kate still couldn’t see her partner, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dorian, standing rigidly, glancing at the display with only a hint of interest.
“This is not all bad,” Dorian said. “A population reduction could allow us to consolidate the genome, perhaps eliminate some of the problems.”
Kate didn’t want to answer. Dorian was right, but she knew the solution, and she dreaded it. The “problems” he had left unspoken had been accelerating in the past ten thousand years—uncontrollable aggression, a tendency to war, to preemptively eliminate any perceived threats. This increasing trend was a fundamental dysfunction of the survival gene: the humans’ logical minds knew that their environment had a finite amount of resources, that with their current technology their habitat could support only a limited number of people. They wanted to ensure that it was their people, their genetic line that survived. War—eliminating any competitors for the finite amount of resources—was their solution. But their race to genocide was happening too fast, as if there were someone else intervening, working against them.
At the back of Kate’s mind, another possibility lingered: Dorian had done this. Had he betrayed her? Taken the research she had provided him and modified it? She had kept her collaboration with Dorian/Ares from her partner. She knew her partner would disagree, but she saw no alternative. The tribes of humanity would need every genetic advantage they could get—if Dorian’s story, his assertions about their enemy, were true.
What else could I do? Kate asked herself. She had chosen the only logical course.
The holographic display began changing. Red spread out across the map: casualty readings.
Her partner spun back to the control station. “Population alarms.”
“We must intervene,” Dorian said.
“No. Not at these levels,” her partner shot back. “We follow our own local precedent—only in the event of an extinction risk.”
Kate nodded. Their “precedent” had been set seventy thousand years ago—when she had chosen to provide the Atlantis Gene to the humans in that cave, their subspecies teetering on the brink of extinction.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the holographic wall exploded in alarms.
Population Alert: Subspecies 8471: 92% Extinction Risk.
Kate traced the location. Siberia. The Denisovans. The floodwaters couldn’t have touched them there. What was happening?
Another alarm emerged on the screen, in another location.
Population Alert: Subspecies 8473: 84% Extinction Risk.
This subspecies was confined to the islands of Indonesia. The Hobbits. The subspecies that would come to be known as homo floresiensis. What was driving their population collapse? The pressure of the flood, combined with the aggressive humans who had settled the islands relatively recently? Kate already knew the history. They would go extinct. What was the year? She glanced at the hologram, deciphering the Atlantean dating scheme.
The memory was from approximately thirteen thousand years ago. Another realization struck her at that moment: she would witness the fall of Atlantis. She would see what had happened. The missed delta.
A third population alarm went off.
Population Alert: Subspecies 8470: 99% Extinction Risk.
Neanderthals. Gibraltar.
Her partner raced to a control panel and began working it with his fingers. He turned to Dorian.
“You did this!”
“Did what? This is your science experiment. After all, I am merely a military adviser. Doctors, do not let me get in your way.”
Her partner paused, waiting for Kate’s input.
“Prioritize. Save the ones we can,” she said.
He manipulated the panel, and Kate felt the ship lift up. The map traced its trajectory. It flew across Africa, barreling toward Gibraltar.
Dorian stood still as a statue, staring at her.
Her partner paced to the door, then stopped. “Are you coming?”
Kate was lost in thought. Three extinction alerts—at the same time. What did it mean?
Was Dorian eliminating all the other subspecies? Was he testing his weapon, ending the experiment? Did he have what he wanted? Had he betrayed her? Or was it something else?
Was this the work of their enemy?
Chance? Pure coincidence?
Either alternative was possible, yet remote.
Kate would know the truth soon.
Her partner’s back was to her.
Another question dominated her mind. Who was he?
She needed to see his face, needed to find out who her ally was.
She needed answers.
She tried to focus. “Yes. I’m coming.”
Dr. Paul Brenner stared at the patchwork of screens in the Orchid Ops room. Casualty rates were climbing.
Budapest Orchid District: 37% of total population confirmed dead.
Miami Orchid District: 34% of total population confirmed dead.
A countdown clock in the corner read:
1:45:08
Less than two hours to the near extinction of the human race. Or at the very least, the next stage in human evolution.
After the Euthanasia Protocol, there would be two groups of humans left: the evolving and the devolving. There would be two separate subspecies of humans for the first time in thousands of years. Paul knew that state would end soon, just as it had before: with a single subspecies. And it wouldn’t be the less-evolved.
The survivors would have the world to themselves, the genetically inferior cleared away.
80
You’re listening to the BBC, the voice of human triumph on this, the eighty-first day of the Atlantis Plague.
This is a special news bulletin.
A cure, ladies and gentlemen.
Leaders from across the Orchid Alliance, including America, the UK, Germany, Australia, and France, have announced that they have finally found a cure for the Atlantis Plague.
The announcements couldn’t have come at a better time. The BBC has acquired classified reports and received eyewitness accounts from around the world that claim the death rate is now as high as forty percent in some Orchid Districts.
The announcements were issued in terse statements, and the heads of state have denied all requests for interviews, leaving experts and pundits to wonder about this mysterious cure—specifically, how it could seemingly be manufactured overnight.
Directors of several Orchid Districts, speaking on the condition of anonymity, have insisted that the existing Orchid production plants were already set up to manufacture the new drug, and that it will be handed out within hours.
This has been a BBC special news bulletin.
81
Kate was in the decompression chamber again, wearing the suit. She turned quickly, glancing at her partner. He was also suited up.
“The drones only identified one survivor.”
One survivor. Incredible. Too… convenient. “Copy,” Kate said.
She turned. Dorian was there. He wasn’t wearing a suit. “You two go. I’ll manage the ship.”
Kate tried to read his expression. Her partner
strapped the rest of his field gear on.
Dorian fled the room just as the last of the air was sucked out.
Two floating chariots issued from the walls, and she and her partner each mounted one and flew out of the lander.
The scene was breathtaking: a prehistoric settlement surrounded by stone monuments, like an outdoor amphitheater centered around a vast stone hearth that sent a blazing inferno toward the sky.
Several humans were leading the Neanderthal to the communal fire, but they released him and backed away as the chariots approached.
Her partner grabbed the Neanderthal, injected him with a sedative, and threw him across his chariot. They turned and raced back to the ship.
“I don’t trust him,” her partner said on a private channel.
I don’t either, Kate thought. But she held her tongue. If Dorian had betrayed them, set this up, it was partly her fault. She had done the research he needed.
Dorian watched the glistening water of the Mediterranean fly by below. He was half-awake, exhausted from lack of sleep.
The memories seemed to assault him now, like a movie he was forced to watch. Another scene came, and he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t escape. There was nowhere to run from his own mind. The helicopter and the Immari strike team sitting across from him dissolved, and a room rose up around him.
He knew the place well: the structure in Gibraltar.
He stood in the control center, watching Kate and her partner race to save the primitive.
Fools.
Bleeding hearts.
Why can’t they accept the inevitable? Their science and their morals blind them to the truth, the unmistakable reality: that this world and the universe that surrounds it, has enough room for only one sentient race. Resources are finite. It must be us. We are at war for our lives. These scientists will be remembered as those who were seduced by morality. The code we gave to the primitives, to maintain peace, to perpetuate a lie: that coexistence is possible. In an environment with limited resources and unlimited population growth, one species must triumph over the other.
He manipulated the controls, programming the bombs.
He stepped out of the command center and raced down the corridor.
The turns went by in a flash, and he stood in a room with seven doors. He activated his helmet display and waited. Kate and her partner entered the ship.
Dorian detonated the first bomb—the one buried out at sea. The blast sent a tidal wave at the ship, sweeping it inland. As the receding water dragged it back out to sea, Dorian activated the other bombs. They would tear the ship, the Alpha Lander, apart.
He walked through one of the seven doors, and he knew he was in Antarctica, in his own ship. Soon, I will free my people, and we will retake the universe.
He walked past the control station and picked up a plasma rifle.
He returned to the middle of the seven-door room.
There was one escape route for them, only one way out of Gibraltar. He would be waiting.
Kate watched her partner dump the Neanderthal into a tube.
“Ares betrayed us. He is working against us.”
Kate was silent.
“Where is he?”
“What should we—”
An alarm lit up her helmet.
Incoming tidal wave.
“He set off a bomb on the ocean floor—”
The shockwave hit the ship, throwing her against the bulkhead.
Pain coursed through her body. Something else was happening to her.
She was losing control. The memories were too real now.
She fought to focus, but everything went black.
David poked his head between Kamau and Shaw, into the cockpit of the helicopter, and surveyed Valletta, the capital of Malta, below. Valletta’s narrow harbor was packed with boats. They covered almost every inch of the water, radiating out of the harbor and into the sea. A seemingly endless flow of people raced across the abandoned boats, using them like a series of floating platforms forming a path to the shore. From high above in the helicopter, they looked like ants marching out of the harbor. When they reached land, the four streams of people converged into one horde that coursed through the main thoroughfare of Valletta, making a beeline for the Orchid District. The rays of the rising sun peeked out from behind a tall building’s domed top, and David held a hand up to shield his eyes.
Why are they fleeing here? What’s here that could save them?
A shudder ran through the helicopter, throwing David into the back seat.
“They’ve got anti-aircraft missiles!”
“Take us out!” David shouted.
He grabbed Kate and held her. She was almost listless, her eyes absent.
Kate opened her eyes. Another shockwave hit her, but this was a different one—not a tidal wave. She was back in the helicopter, with David. He looked down at her.
What was happening to her? She felt different now. The things she had learned, the memories, they had changed her in some indescribable way. Humanity was… an experiment. Was he part of it?
“What?” he asked her.
She shook her head.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, not wanting to confront reality.
David strapped Kate into the helicopter’s bench seat and held her as it banked and swerved, the bombs exploding around them. Malta was guarded, as it had been in the past, quite heavily.
They were accepting refugees by boat, but no one could reach it by air.
He picked up the satellite phone. “Dial Continuity,” he said to Kate. “Tell them we’re in an Immari helicopter, but we are friendlies. Instruct Malta to stop firing on us. We need to land.”
He watched as Kate opened her eyes, eyed him briefly, then fought to dial the numbers. A second later, she began conversing quickly with Paul Brenner.
Paul Brenner hung up the phone. Kate and her team were in Malta.
“Get me the director of the Valletta Orchid District,” he said to his assistant.
Dorian watched the explosions in the distance. Valletta was firing on any incoming aircraft.
He activated his helmet’s mic.
“Find us a refugee boat.”
“Sir?”
“Do it. We can’t access the island by air.”
Ten minutes later, they were hovering above a fishing trawler.
Dorian watched the rope lines descend. His men fell to the boat’s deck and raised their weapons. The ship’s crew and passengers retreated back into the boat’s cabin.
Dorian landed on the deck and glided to the huddling group of people.
“No harm will come to you. We just need a lift to Malta.”
David felt the helicopter touch down on the pad. He brushed Kate’s hair out of her face. “Can you walk?”
He thought she was so warm, not burning up, but… too warm. What’s happening to her? I can’t lose her. Not after all this.
She nodded, and he helped her out of the helicopter, then wrapped his arm around her and ushered her away from the platform.
An enemy was behind them: Chang, Janus, or Shaw. David didn’t know which. But he knew Kamau was behind him as well and that he would watch David’s back. Kate was his concern now.
“Dr. Warner!” A man wearing designer glasses and a slept-in suit greeted them. “Dr. Brenner has informed us about your research. We are here to help—”
“Take us to the hospital,” David said. He didn’t know what else to say. Kate needed help.
David couldn’t believe his eyes. The hospital was state of the art, yet dying bodies were everywhere, and no one seemed to be interested in helping them.
“What’s going on here? Why aren’t you treating these people?” David asked the district director.
“There is no need. Refugees arrive here sick, and they rise from it in hours.”
“Without treatment?”
“Their faith saves them.”
Davi
d looked at Kate. She was getting better. The sweat had stopped pouring off her brow. He took her aside. “Do you believe this?”
“I believe what I see, but I don’t know how it’s happening. We need to find the source. Get me something to write on.”
David took a legal pad from one of the bedside tables.
Kate sketched quickly.
David looked back at the Orchid District director, who seemed to be watching them like a hawk. In a corner of the hospital wing, Janus was setting up Kate’s computer and the sample collector, the thermos-like device he had seen before. Kamau and Shaw stood beside them, eyeing each other as if they were waiting for the bell to ring and a fight to begin.
Kate handed her rough sketch to the director. “We’re looking for this. It’s a stone box—”
“I—”
“I know it’s here. It’s been here for a very long time. A group called the Immaru hid it here thousands of years ago. Take us to it.”
The director looked away from them, swallowed, then led them away from the people, out of earshot. “I’ve never seen it. I don’t know what it is—”
“We just need to find it,” David said.
“Rabat. The rumor is that the Knights of Malta have retreated into the catacombs there.”
Dorian flowed with the barbarian hordes of people coursing into the Maltese capital. God, they stank. They carried their sick, pushing and shoving, hoping to rush them to safety.
He held the scratchy blanket around his head, hiding his appearance, trying not to breathe in the putrid odor that assaulted him. Talk about suffering for your cause.
In the distance, beyond the hospital, he saw an Immari helicopter lift off the ground and move further inland.
