The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller

by A. G. Riddle

  needed to get you down here.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve already told you. I’m here to recruit you. By the time we’re done talking, you’ll know the truth and you’ll finally—”

  “I won’t. You can kill me now—”

  “I’d rather not, David. Good men are hard to come by. There’s another reason: you know more than anyone else. You’re in a unique position to—”

  “You know why I joined Clocktower, what the Immari took from me. What you took from me.”

  “Not me. Dorian. Dieter. Granted, I used Clocktower to make sure no intelligence agencies got wind of the plot, but he planned 9/11. It was his brainchild. He was obsessed with searching those mountains for his father. He desperately needed some kind of closure. It wasn’t the only reason. As I said before, our organization was in shambles when I awoke in 1978, and we were still recovering in 2001. We needed money and a global cover to resume our work.”

  “Impossible. Dorian Sloane is Dieter Kane?”

  “It’s true. When I awoke in 1978, I ordered his tube opened, and he walked right out, as healthy as he could be. The tube must also be some sort of healing device, a medical treatment pod of some sort. But its powers are limited to treating the living. I watched as Patrick Pierce, who had been as stoic as a judge for the past 20 years, crumbled into unimaginable grief as they pulled Helena’s still-dead body from the tube. He relived her death all over again. But medical technology had come a long way, and we were able to save the child inside her.”

  “His child?”

  “Daughter. But you know her already. Kate Warner.”

  CHAPTER 114

  Immari Research Base Prism

  East Antarctica

  Kate studied Dorian’s face. Confusion? Disbelief? Regret? He stared at the point where the wall met the floor, thinking.

  Then he focused on her, grinning an evil, unkind grin. “That was very clever, Kate. Of course you are very smart — when it comes to science. But not when it comes to reading people.” He turned away from her and paced toward the door. “You’re just like your father in that way. Brilliant, but foolish.”

  What was he talking about? Her father died 28 years ago. Dorian, or Dieter, or whatever his name was… he was a madman. “You’re the only fool here,” Kate said.

  “Am I? All of this is your father’s fault. He unleashed all of this. He killed my mother and brother and forced my father to undertake a risky mission to save the world, a mission from which he never returned. There’s your why Kate. I’ve dedicated my whole life to finishing my father’s work and to righting the wrongs your father did to my family; and today, you’ve given me the keys to finally do that.”

  Before Kate could react, an alarm rang out.

  A security guard, or some sort of soldier, burst in the door. “Sir, we’re under attack.”

  CHAPTER 115

  Immari Tunnels

  Gibraltar

  David’s mind raced. He said his thoughts aloud, almost mumbling them. “Kate Warner is Patrick Pierce’s daughter? How—”

  “I thought new names were in order. If anyone ever connected us to the events during and after World War I, it would have… complicated our lives. Pierce took the name Tom Warner, and Katherine for his newborn daughter. He told her that her mother had died in childbirth, which was actually the truth. Dieter became Dorian Sloane, and he became obsessed with the past and his father’s legacy. He was a hateful child. He had seen so much pain, and he was all alone in an age he didn’t understand. Imagine, a seven-year-old boy going to sleep in 1918 with the flu, when his parents and brother were alive, and waking up 60 years later, in 1978, healthy and all alone in a strange world. I tried to be a father figure to him, but he was so troubled, so isolated. Like you, he dedicated his life to striking back at the people who had taken the ones he loved, to killing the people who had changed him and ruined his life. For him, that was Tom Warner and the Atlanteans. Unfortunately for all of us, Dorian is very capable. And he had support within the Immari organization. To the Immari, he was the heir and savior returned, living proof that the plague and the Bell could be beaten, that the human race could survive. It all went to Dorian’s head. He grew into a monster. He’s planning to reduce the human race to a select few, the genetically superior, what he believes is his tribe. He’s already unleashed the plague. The apocalypse is happening now, as we speak. But we can stop him. You can kill him, then I alone will run the Immari organization, with you at my side.” Craig watched David, hoping for some indication of how his former apprentice would react to the offer. “I’ll take you in as a prisoner. I know him. He’ll want to gloat, to debrief and torture you himself. I’ll give you a means to kill him when you’re left alone with him.”

  David shook his head. “That’s what you want? This whole charade? You want me to kill Sloane — to put you on the throne?”

  “Don’t you want to? He was responsible for 9/11. He’s your enemy. And you can save Kate. She’s there with him now. He will hurt her. He hurt her before, in San Francisco. The baby — it was his. There’s more, but the bottom line is that you can save her. Only you can save her.” Craig let the words sink in for a long moment, then turned and paced the room. “Think about it, David. You know you can’t win. You can’t fight us. The gunfire in the tunnels, those were the sounds of my Immari Security agents killing the last of the Clocktower loyalists. They’re all dead. You’re all alone down here. You can’t defeat the Immari. No one can. The world is already fighting the plague. You can’t prevent catastrophe. But we can change things, from inside Immari. We can shape the world to come.”

  David considered the offer — his own deal with the devil. Then he looked around the room, for a weapon of some kind. There was something — the wooden handle of a spear, sticking out of the wall. The wood and iron spear looked so out of place here — in a room of strange metal and glass and technology David couldn’t begin to imagine.

  On the other side of the room, a hologram flickered to life, like a 3D video of some sort.

  “What is—”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Craig said. He walked closer to the area where the hologram was forming. “Some sort of videos, holograms, on repeat. They play every few minutes. I think they show the past, what happened here. They’re the other reason I brought you down here, to this room. They are the secrets this room holds. We think Patrick Pierce hadn’t yet uncovered them when he sent the journal in 1938. Or, this is another theory, he had found the room, but nothing worked until he came out of the tube in 1978. We’re still sorting it out, but as you’ll see, we believe he saw them at some point in the seven years after he resumed his work as Tom Warner. We don’t know what they mean yet, but he went to great lengths to keep them from us. We think they’re some kind of message.”

  CHAPTER 116

  Immari Research Base Prism

  East Antarctica

  Kate looked up at the sound of the second explosion. She tried the door again. Still locked. She thought she smelled smoke. Her mind raced through Dorian’s crazed allegations and the videos of the children walking into that massive structure… with the packs strapped to their backs.

  The door swung open, and Martin Grey stepped quickly into the room. He grabbed Kate by the arm and pulled her out into the hall.

  “Martin,” Kate began, but he cut her off.

  “Stay quiet. We have to hurry,” Martin said as he led her down the white-walled corridor. They turned a corner, and the corridor ended in what looked like an airlock on a space station. They proceeded through the airlock and a gust rushed past them as they ventured into the large room beyond — some sort of hangar or warehouse with a high, arched ceiling. Martin squeezed her arm and led her to a stack of hard plastic crates where they knelt and waited in silence. She heard voices at the end of the room and the engines of heavy equipment — forklifts maybe.

  “Stay here,” Martin said.

  “Martin—”

  “In a m
inute,” Martin whispered as he got to his feet and ran to the men.

  Kate heard his footfalls stop abruptly as he reached the men. His voice rang with an authority and force Kate had never heard from her adoptive father. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Unloadin—”

  “Sloane’s called for all personnel at the North Entrance.”

  “What? We were told—”

  “The station’s been breached. If it falls, whatever you’re doing here won’t matter. He’s called for you. You can stay here if you like. It’s your funeral.”

  Kate heard more footfalls, moving toward her; then they passed her and moved out another airlock. There was just one set of footfalls now — Martin. He walked deeper into the hangar and spoke again. “He’s called for everyone—”

  “Who’s going to control the site—”

  “Gentlemen, why do you think I’m here?”

  More footfalls, running, an airlock opening and closing, and Martin was back. “Come quickly, Kate.”

  Martin marched her past rows of crates and a makeshift control station of some kind, with a bank of computers and a wall of screens. They showed a long ice corridor and the opening she had seen the children walk through.

  “Please Martin, tell me what’s going on.”

  Martin’s eyes were soft, sympathetic. “Get into this suit. I’ll tell you all I can in the seconds we have left.” He motioned to a white, puffy space suit hanging on the wall beside a group of lockers. Kate began slipping into the suit, and Martin looked away from her as he spoke.

  “I’m so sorry, Kate. I’m the one that forced you to produce results. And when you did… I kidnapped those children. I did it because we needed them—”

  “The Bell—”

  “Yes, to get past the Bell, to get inside the Tombs — the structure two miles below the ice here in Antarctica. Since we began studying the Bell, we’ve known some people can resist it longer than others. They all die, but a few years ago, we identified a set of genes involved in resistance — the Atlantis Gene — we call it. The gene heavily influences brain wiring. We think it’s responsible for all sorts of advanced cognitive abilities, problem solving, advanced reasoning, language, creativity. We, Homo sapiens sapiens that is, have it; none of the other subspecies of humans have it — that we’ve found. It’s how we’re different. My theory is that the Atlanteans gave it to us around 60,000 years ago — around the time of the Toba Catastrophe. It’s what enabled us to survive. But we weren’t quite ready for it. We were still very much like our great ape cousins, acting on instinct, living in the wild. The strange thing is, we think it’s activated by a sort of neural survival sub-routine, the fight-or-flight center of the brain. That mechanism activates the Atlantis Gene — focusing the mind and body. It could be why we’re a race of thrill seekers and why we’re so prone to violence. It’s so fascinating.” Martin shook his head, trying to focus. “Anyway, we’re still trying to understand how it works. Everyone has the Atlantis Gene or at least some of the genetic components for it, but activating the gene is the problem. For some minds, geniuses, activation is more frequent. We think these genius moments, these flashes of insight and clarity are literally like a light bulb flickering on and off — the Atlantis Gene activates, and for the briefest of moments, we can use the full power of our minds. These people can activate the Atlantis Gene without the fight-or-flight circuit breaker. We began focusing our research on minds that had this sort of sustained activation. We observed activation in some minds on the autism spectrum — savants. That’s why we funded your research. It’s why Dorian was… forgiven… if you will, for his transgressions — he had steered you into an area of Immari interest. And when you succeeded, when the children showed sustained Atlantis Gene activation, I took the kids before he could find out. I created other distractions, with Clocktower, to keep him busy.”

  “You were the source. You sent the information to David.”

  “Yes, as a backup plan, in case I failed. I had already sent a message to David revealing the Immari double-agents working as Clocktower analysts, and I was trying to tell him that Clocktower itself was the Immari intelligence agency. I had hoped the war for Clocktower would consume the Immari, giving me time to do my work. I kidnapped the children, hoping to keep you out of this, but I underestimated you. And how quickly Dorian would react. I tried to give you clues when we met in Jakarta, during my theatrical rant in the observation room. I wasn’t sure you could put it all together. Then, Dorian’s men had you and… the entire situation spun out of control. It’s all my fault.”

  Kate pulled the last of the bulky suit on. “You were—”

  “Trying to make contact. My goal has been to find a therapy that activated the Atlantis Gene, allowing us to enter the Tombs and greet the Atlanteans as they awaken, not as murderers, but as their children, to ask their help in managing humanity’s growing pains. To ask for their help with fixing the Atlantis Gene. We’ve found some other… interesting aspects of the gene, mysteries we still don’t understand… There isn’t time to explain, but we need their help. That’s what you have to do, Kate. You can cross into the tombs. You’ve seen what Dorian’s plan is. You must hurry. Your father gave his life for this cause, and he made so many sacrifices for you. And he tried so desperately to save your mother.”

  “My mother…” Kate struggled to understand.

  Martin shook his head. “Of course. I haven’t told you. The journal, it’s your father’s.”

  “It can’t be…” Kate searched Martin’s face. Her mother was Helena Barton? Patrick Pierce was her father? How could it be true?

  “It’s true. He was a reluctant member of the Immari. He did it to save you. He put you in the tube, inside your mother that day in the field hospital in Gibraltar. He emerged in 1978 and took the name Tom Warner. I was already a staff scientist for the Immari, but I was wavering… the methods, the cruelty. I found in him an ally, someone inside the organization who wanted to stop the madness, someone who favored dialog over genocide. But he never trusted me, not fully.” Martin stared at the floor. “I’ve tried so hard to keep you safe, to honor my promise to him, but I’ve failed so miserably—”

  Behind them another explosion rocked the facility. Martin grabbed the helmet to the suit. “You have to hurry. I’ll lower you down. When you get inside, you have to find the children and lead them out first. Whatever you do, make sure they get out. Then find the Atlanteans. There isn’t much time left — less than 30 minutes until the bombs the boys are carrying go off.” He ushered her to another airlock at the end of the warehouse. “When you get outside, climb into the basket. I can operate it from here. When it reaches the bottom of the ice shaft, run through the portal, just as the children did.” He locked the suit helmet in place and pushed her out of the airlock before Kate could say another word.

  When the outer airlock opened, Kate saw the iron basket hanging from the crane’s thick metal cord. It swayed slightly as the Antarctic winds blew through it, barely catching the iron mesh on the sides.

  She waddled over to it with some effort. The wind almost blew her over as she reached the basket. The handle was hard to work with her fat fingers, but she managed to get inside. As soon as she closed the door, it began descending into the round hole.

  The basket creaked, and above her, the round circle of light shrank with every passing second. It reminded Kate of the end of a cartoon, where the final scene is gradually covered with black as the circle shrinks to the size of a pin and finally winks out into full black. The squeaking basket was an unnerving soundtrack to the darkening descent.

  After a few moments, the basket began moving faster and the last sliver of light above disappeared. The speed and disorienting darkness gave her a sick feeling in her stomach, and she braced herself against the basket. Not much longer, she told herself, but she had no idea. It was two miles deep.

  Then there was light — a smattering of faint sparkles below, like stars shining on a clear night.
For a moment, Kate gazed down at them, admiring their beauty, not thinking about what they actually were. Stars, she thought. Then her scientific mind slowly, subtly began rifling through the possibilities before settling on the most likely candidate: tiny LED lights that had been dropped to illuminate the bottom of the hole. They lay there in a random pattern, glowing in the blackness around them, as if guiding Kate on a cosmic journey to some unknown planet. They were almost… entrancing—

  A loud sound — an explosion — echoed down through the shaft, and Kate felt the basket falling faster. And faster still. The thick cable attached at the top of the basket grew slack and gathered in waves above her. She was falling — free falling. The cable had been cut. The basket drifted over, toward the ice wall of the round shaft. When it hit the wall, the basket would flip end over end. She would die as the basket cartwheeled into the ice floor below, pile-driving her into it. If the fall didn’t kill Kate, the thousand stabs from the shattered steel basket holding her would.

  CHAPTER 117

  Immari Tunnels

  Gibraltar

  Craig stepped closer to David as the hologram formed.

  David stared at it. The colors were vivid, and the hologram almost filled the room. It felt like he was there. He saw a massive ship rising out of the ocean. The Rock of Gibraltar came into view, and David realized the scale of the machine. The Rock looked like a pebble next to it. There was something else — the location of the Rock was wrong. It was inland, not on the coast, and the land extended beyond the Rock and to the right of it, all the way to Africa. Europe and Africa, joined by a land bridge.

  “My God…” David whispered.

  Craig paced closer to David. “It’s just as Plato described it, a massive island rising out of the sea. We’re still trying to nail down the time period, but we think this holomovie was made about 12-15,000 years ago. It was certainly some point before the last ice age ended. We’ll know more as soon as we estimate the sea level. Plato’s account says the island sank 12,500 years ago, so that could be about right. And you’ve noticed the size of the vessel.”

  “Incredible. You’ve only found a piece.”

  “Yes, and a small one at that. We think the structure is over 60 square miles, that is, assuming the rock is the same size today as it was 15,000 years ago. The structure, or piece, as you say, that we stand in now is less than 1 square mile. The vessel in Antarctica is over four times larger, about 250 square miles.” Craig nodded to the hologram. “The next movie reveals what this vessel is — we think.”

  David watched the massive ship move to the shore and stop. The hologram flickered, as if someone were changing the reel in an antique movie projector. The ship was still there, but the water had risen some. Just beyond the ship, on the edge of the coast, there was a city, if you could call it that. Primitive stone monuments, like a series of Stone Henges radiated out from the ship in semi-circles. Huts with thatched roofs dotted the landscape. A huge bonfire burned in the middle of the stone structures and the hologram zoomed in. A band of humans wearing thick furs were dragging another human, no, an ape. Or, something in between. The ape was tall. He was naked and fought wildly at the captors at his sides. The humans around him bowed as he neared the fire.

  From the ship, two flying objects launched. They looked like chariots, or space-aged Segways. They floated a few feet above the ground, racing towards the fire. When they reached it, the humans backed away, bowing and facing the ground.

  The Atlanteans dismounted their chariots, grabbed the savage, and injected him with something. They wore some sort of body armor with helmets covered almost entirely by mirrored glass, except the rear part. They threw the ape-man across a chariot and rushed back to the ship.

  The hologram flickered again, and the scene changed to the inside of the ship. The ape-man lay in the floor. The Atlanteans were still in their suits, and David couldn’t tell, but it seemed as if they were saying something to each other… the subtle body language, a few hand gestures.

  Craig cleared his throat. “We’re still scratching our heads on this one. Bear in mind we only saw them a few hours ago when we got the map from the journal and accessed the chamber, but we think this is a video of the Atlanteans interrupting a ritual sacrifice. The man is a Neanderthal. We think our ancestors considered it their duty to hunt down every man not made in the image of God and sacrifice him. Some sort of early racial cleansing.”

  “Is it the same early human that Pierce saw in the tube?”

  “Yes, as you’ll see.”

  “What happened to it?”

  Craig snorted and shook his head. “Kane thawed him in the early thirties, the second he had the Bell operational. We had a time with the power supply. They ran a series of experiments over a few years. They even tried to recreate the ape-man by breeding humans with chimpanzees - his insane humanzee project. Kane finally lost interest when there was no progress. He fed him to the Bell in ‘34.”

  “He didn’t survive?”

  “No, even after countless thousands of years in the tube. So of course we were shocked when Kate Warner did. We think it has something to do with the tubes, but whatever it does only works on our subspecies. The tubes somehow activate the Atlantis Gene. Whatever she treated the children with has to be connected to the tubes in some way. Our theory is that every human has the Atlantis Gene, but it’s only activated sporadically, and by a select few. Clearly the Neanderthal didn’t have the genetic precursor.”

  “The Atlanteans didn’t give them—”

  “The gene, no. The working theory is that they didn’t need to. Neanderthals were bigger and stronger than us. And they had bigger brains. They may have even been smarter than us 60,000 years ago. Either way, we know they were cold-weather great apes that resided in Europe, farther away from the TOBA volcano. They probably weren’t in much danger from the eruption, so the Atlanteans didn’t need to save them. But you all probably figured all that out.” Craig nodded to the hologram. “Oh, here’s the money-shot, as they say.”

  The image moved out of the lab to an outdoor shot again. Behind the ship, a massive tsunami rose in the air. It must have been 100 feet taller than the ship,