by A. G. Riddle
It was Kate’s decision to make, and he knew that whatever she chose, he would stay with her to the end, no matter what.
He hoped that end wouldn’t be here—in this cold, dark, alien place. He imagined them sitting by the fire at his parents’ home, him reading, her falling asleep in his arms, them sleeping until late in the day, not waking for anyone or anything, living without a care in the world. They deserved it. They had paid their dues.
The faint light of stars broke the total darkness of the round shaft, and David walked out into the moonlit night. Several crates of supplies sat on pallets, some cartons opened and picked over where David and Milo had brought MREs back. The Berbers who controlled Northern Morocco had kept them well-supplied, an obligation they felt they owed David, who had helped them take control of the Immari base at Ceuta. In the distance, the massive base glittered. The lights on the guard towers twinkled and probed the perimeter. The lights from the administrative buildings and houses burned beyond.
The moonlight from above and the burning lights from the base almost made David miss Milo sitting just beyond the farthest crate.
The teenager sat cross-legged, his eyes closed. For a moment, David thought he was asleep, but he opened his eyes slowly and drew a deep breath.
“You should get some sleep, Milo.”
“I would like to. My mind refuses to cooperate.” He stood. “Dr. Kate. Will she live?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please tell me.”
“She says she won’t recover. She says Alpha’s diagnosis is correct.”
Milo looked away. “There’s nothing you can do?”
“Sometimes there’s nothing left to do but enjoy the time you have left. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Neither said anything after that. They simply lay on their backs, staring at the stars.
An hour passed, maybe longer. David lost track of time. He was barely awake when Milo broke the silence. “Will you stay here?”
“I hope not.”
“Where?”
“America.”
“Where you’re from?”
“Mmm hmm. North Carolina. Where I grew up. If she’ll go.”
“I want to see America.” Milo glanced over. “It’s why I learned English.”
“You should go.”
In the distance, David heard the crack of a branch snapping. He focused, listened. No further sound came.
“Milo, you still have that radio?” David whispered.
“Yes,” he said, patting his side.
“Go below. Don’t come back until I call you.”
Milo narrowed his eyes, then nodded, and snuck out of the clearing at the top of the mountain, back into the darkened shaft.
David receded behind the closest crate and gripped his sidearm. The footsteps had stopped, but someone was still there. He could feel it.
Kate was exhausted by the time she reached her and David’s bedroom. She didn’t know if the surgery had taken it out of her or if it was the days on end of experiments. Or keeping her secret from David and the release of finally telling him. She slumped onto the bed, just beside the trail of blood on the pillow and sheet.
Slowly, she pulled the sheets and pillow cases off, tossed them on the bed of the cabin across the hall and placed new sheets on the bed.
She was asleep the second her head hit the pillow.
Before she opened her eyes, Kate knew the bed was empty. The narrow crew quarter beds weren’t designed for two, and they slept a lot warmer with both David and her present. Still, she reached her hand across and touched the cold space where he would have lain.
At that moment, she made her decision.
She would spend her last days with David, wherever he wanted. She was doing it for him, as much as for herself.
She closed her eyes again, and the sleep that came was the best she had had since… she could remember.
Waiting was a poor strategy. David assumed that the person beyond the tree line knew his general position and might not be alone.
He was about to dart to the next crate of supplies when a strong voice called into the night, a voice David knew. “It’s nice to see that your instincts haven’t faded.”
David rose and found Sonja, the chief of the Berber tribe that now controlled Ceuta, emerging from the forest, an amused expression on her face.
“You could have announced yourself.”
“Like you, I prefer the element of surprise.”
David smiled, appreciating her reference to his surprise attack and takeover of the Immari base—with her and her tribe’s help.
He motioned to the crates. “I think you’ve oversupplied us.”
Sonja’s playful smile faded. “Not for what’s to come.”
David glanced at the base. Yes, the lights were more than the usual night watch. They were preparing for an attack.
“How soon?”
“Days. Possibly even tomorrow. If the spies are right, the Immari counterattack will be global. A war on every continent.”
“How? I thought they were finished.”
“They’ve consolidated their forces. And they’re attracting new devotees. They’ve begun taking power plants and food depots around the world.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Many don’t want the world to return to the way it was. The Immari alternative, their worldview, appeals to many.”
David scanned the base again. “You’re not planning for the base’s defense. You’re planning for an attack.”
Sonja nodded. “The Immari have been moving into the mountainous regions, trying to take the high ground where they can prolong the fight. The Spanish plan to drive them to the sea, to within range of our rail guns. We can finish them, force a surrender—assuming we can hold our ground here.”
David nodded. “Good plan.”
“It’s part of a larger plan. The Orchid Alliance is contemplating a final offensive to finish the Immari once and for all.” She pointed to a plane waiting on the runway. “I’m traveling to America at first light. I’ll be the representative for Northern Africa.”
“Representative to what?”
“A global war council.”
David had a feeling about what she was working up to. “Congratulations,” he said, turning away.
“I was hoping…”
“That I would run Ceuta in your absence.”
“You could save lives—again.”
David’s eyes lingered on the dark corridor that led to the ship and Kate. “I can’t.”
“The woman you came here to save.”
“Yes. She’s sick. She needs me.”
“Watching a loved one suffer is the worst torture on Earth. If you stay here, you should take the supplies below. I don’t know how long the offensive will last.”
“We’ve considered spending her final days in America.” David glanced back at the runway, at the plane he had flown to Ceuta from Malta. “But if you’re taking the plane…”
Sonja smiled. “I’ll drop you off. It’s the least I can do for what you’ve done for my people.”
“That’s much appreciated.”
It began raining, and they both gazed into the distance. The downpour seemed to gather strength by the second.
“Looks like a big one,” David said.
Sonja turned her head sharply, as if she had heard something.
David moved closer to her, his posture defensive.
She pressed a finger to her ear piece. “There’s an incoming flight. American military transport requesting clearance to land. The person on board identifies himself as Dr. Paul Brenner. He wishes to speak with Dr. Warner. He says she can verify him.”
David considered the request. He had never met Paul Brenner, and he wondered how he might verify his identity. With the looming war, David considered the possibility that the caller was an Immari impostor hoping his flight could slip past the rail guns to hit the base. “Ask him how Dr. Warner cured the
plague.”
A few seconds later, Sonja related Brenner’s response: “He says it’s a trick question. He doesn’t know. Only that she found something in Malta and transmitted it to him at Continuity. He would like to ask her the same question.”
“Ask him if that’s why he’s here.”
“No,” Sonja said. “He says it’s about a code on a radio satellite, that it could be related to what was found in Gibraltar and Antarctica.”
David frowned, the rain falling in sheets on him now.
“You want us to divert him?”
“No,” David said. “Let him land. But guard him. Have several men bring him up here. Don’t let him inside.” For some reason, David thought it best to keep everyone out of the ship. “I’ll bring Kate up.”
12
Alpha Lander
1,200 Feet Below Sea Level
Off the Northern Coast of Morocco David had tip-toed back into the bedroom, but it didn’t matter.
He sat in the chair before the small table and faced the bed. “I can tell you’re awake.”
Kate sat up. “How do you always know?”
“You smile a little, like you’re hiding something. You’d make a terrible spy.”
Kate held that cute smile he liked so much for a few more seconds. Then it was gone, and it felt as though every last breath of air had been sucked out of the room.
“I’ve decided.”
David eyed the floor.
“North Carolina sounds nice.”
“It will be. And we’ll be happy there.”
“I know we will. Knowing I don’t have much time left has given me some perspective, reminded me of what’s important. That’s you. I do have two requests.”
David felt a little pit form in his stomach. “Go ahead.”
“First, the two boys who were taken from my lab. I left them with a couple in Spain when the Immari invaded the Orchid District in Marbella. After… When I’m gone, I want you to find them and make sure they’re safe and provided for.”
“I will. The other request?”
When Kate finished telling him, David simply stared at her. “That’s a tall order.”
“I’ll understand if you say no.”
“I’m saying yes. I’ll do it, even if it kills me.”
“I hope it won’t.”
After the plane ride and landing, the Jeep ride through the Moroccan mountains felt like a picnic to Paul. He sat beside Mary in the backseat, two Moroccan guards in the front. They had made Paul’s military escorts wait with the plane. The man staring back at them, holding a rifle that looked like it was from World War II, made Paul even more nervous than the torrential downpour and reckless driving.
In the distance, he heard a roll of thunder that nearly deafened him.
He looked back, but the rain almost blotted out the view. What little bit he saw horrified him. A wave of water twenty feet tall rose from the ocean and slammed into the sprawling army base. Another wave. It carried something. Paul tried to focus. It looked… like a cruise ship. It spun on top of the wave, like a plastic toy being washed ashore by the tide. It slammed into the base, flattening everything it rolled over.
Paul’s mouth went dry.
Water rushed across the unpaved road, and he felt the Jeep skidding, losing traction as it climbed the mountain.
“Slower!” Paul shouted.
The soldier raised his rifle to Paul and yelled at him.
The driver accelerated even faster, and Paul motioned to Mary to buckle up. A wave caught the Jeep and tossed it off the muddy road a few seconds later.
“What convinced you?” David asked.
“Let’s see…” Kate pulled her shirt off. “I think it could have been the part about enjoying the time we have left.”
David kissed her, and she reached for his shirt.
“You’re very convincing, you know.”
“Right…” David was about to slip his shirt off, but he stopped. “Wait. Almost forgot. Paul Brenner is here.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I have no idea. We need to go up top to talk—”
The ship shuddered, throwing David across the room into the bulkhead, Kate landing on top of him.
Her hands were instantly around his head, feeling for blood.
He opened his eyes wide and shook his head once. Sounds and feeling converged, and he could focus again. “I’m okay.”
“The ship’s been hit with explosives,” Kate said.
“What? How do you—”
“My neural implant.”
Another shudder came, but David was ready. He held the desk attached to the wall with one hand, Kate with the other.
“Earthquake?” David yelled, over the din.
“No. I think it was the mines the British laid in the straits. Something pulled them down.”
The ship shook again, this time more violently.
“They’re destroying the ship,” Kate said. “Alpha is unresponsive.”
“Come on.” David pulled her up, and they began staggering through the dark corridors, trying to make their way out.
Paul brushed Mary’s hair out of her face, trying to get a look at the cut the blood was coming from. She opened her eyes, and he drew back instinctively.
“I’m okay,” she said, peering into the empty front seat. “The guards.”
“Gone. Thrown out.”
Water washed into the floor board as Paul unbuckled first his, then Mary’s seatbelt.
“What is it, Paul?”
“No idea.”
“Hurricane?”
“Maybe,” he said, hoping his lie would comfort her.
Mary’s reaction told him she hadn’t bought it. So she did remember something from being married to him.
“Let’s go, we’ve gotta get to higher ground.”
Mary grabbed her laptop bag.
“Leave it, Mary.”
“I can’t—”
“It’ll be soaked and only slow us down. We have to go.”
He pulled her out of the Jeep and into the muddy road, where a wall of wind and rain caught them, throwing them to the ground and rolling them twice before it abated.
Paul got to his feet and caught his first full view of the chaos below, what had been Ceuta only seconds ago.
He saw the expression on Mary’s face, and that steeled him enough to grab her, turn her around, and yell, “Run.”
13
The explosions were less frequent now, but David and Kate still ran cautiously.
“What could do this?” David asked.
“A tsunami could have washed the mines into the ship.”
David’s mind flashed to his conversation with Sonja. A tsunami—at the exact time of the Immari global attack? He didn’t believe in coincidences. “Ares and Dorian did this.”
“How?”
“The ice in Antarctica. They melted it. Does the ship there have any weapons?”
“No. Wait. It has emergency mines for asteroids and comets.”
“Could they melt ice?”
“Definitely. Comets are mostly ice.”
“How do you know that?”
Kate slowed her pace. “I don’t.” She thought for a second. “I know it because she did. That’s weird.” The tidbit about comets had come naturally to her—like her own memories. Previously, when she had cured the plague, she had focused on the science; remembering her Atlantean counterpart’s knowledge had been an effort.
“Let’s keep moving,” David said.
They raced through the corridors, occasionally stopping to grab a bulkhead when an explosion rocked the ship.
At the surface, David instantly sensed how bad things were. It should have been morning, and the sun should have greeted them, but it was dark, almost pitch black, and he couldn’t see a single star. The sound of destruction was complete: waves crashed into the rocks below, buildings crumbled in the distance, and thunder echoed across the sky and in their chests.
They sto
od for a moment, the hard-falling rain numbing them.
David leaned over and shouted, his voice barely audible against the clamor. “Get below. I’m right behind you.”
He ran into the clearing, past the pallets of supplies. At the base of the mountain, at sea level, the crumbling ruin that had been the fortress of Ceuta was sustaining an onslaught beyond imagination.
The base was almost completely submerged; only a few buildings jutted out, but they were falling fast.
The jet that would have carried them away lay overturned, several hundred feet from the runway, which was also flooded.
The rain came in sheets, and David fought to keep it out of his face and his eyes open.
From his peripheral vision, he saw movement. Milo and Sonja. They ran to him, and the three of them took cover under the trees, just past the clearing. The wind gained steam, forcing each of them to reach for a tree, holding tight, bracing as it picked up speed.
“I came up to look for you,” Milo shouted.
“That was smart,” David said. “You did good.”
Sonja leaned close to his ear. “It would seem we’ve underestimated our enemy.”
“Badly.”
Behind them, David heard a sucking noise that seemed to drain all the air and sound away. The rain nearly ceased. Through the darkness, he saw a wall of water rising, bearing down on the mountain. It would wash over it, taking everything—and everyone with it.
Paul could feel the cool water level rising, moving up his legs, like a countdown to his and Mary’s death.
He tried to pump his legs faster, but it was like doing water aerobics in the shallow end of a mountain lake.
Mary was falling behind.
“I need to stop,” she said, bending over to heave breath after breath.
Paul tried to estimate the distance to the top of the peak. Two, maybe three hundred yards?
The rain had almost stopped. Maybe the massive storm was ending. But the water still crept up his legs—it was almost to his knees now. If it leveled out eventually, maybe they could swim to land, pausing to rest by hanging on to the tree tops or floating debris from Ceuta.
