The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller (54 page)

“Why? The suit will protect me from radiation, you said—”

“Yes, that’s true, but there could be other damage from the blasts. Fire. Possibly damage to the structure, the entire thing could collapse for all we know. We’re getting some data on the structure in Gibraltar — Director Craig found some sort of archival videos. The structure was actually shattered by methane blasts similar to the nukes we sent, well, actually more powerful, but we know the structures aren’t indestructible—”

“What do you suggest?”

“Wait a few days—”

“Out of the question. I’ll wait a few hours, at most.”

The tech nodded.

“There’s something else. After I enter the Tombs, lower three warheads down this drill shaft. If anyone besides me or my father comes out, human, Atlantean, or otherwise, set them off. Deploy the rest of the nukes down the other drill holes, rig them all to detonate simultaneously.”

“The blasts would melt the ice—”

“The blasts would save the human race. Do it.”

CHAPTER 122

David opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on a skinny cot with a gel-like mattress that contoured perfectly to his body. He leaned forward and the gel reacted, helping him up. He smelled something, like garlic mixed with licorice. Actually, it was worse than that. David raised his hand to cover his nose, but the smell only got worse. Where was it coming fro— no — it was on him, a black paste, on his chest and shoulder, and leg. God it stank, but… his wounds felt better. The paste had eaten through his shirt, but it seemed to be repairing his wounds. He stood, then instantly collapsed back to the gel-cot. Not quite 100%.

“Take it easy.” It was the man who had incapacitated him.

David scanned the room for a weapon. The spear was gone.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. I assumed they sent you to kill me, but when I saw your wounds… I figured they would have sent someone… in better health.”

David scrutinized the man — he was a man — David could see that now. He was in his late 40s, or maybe early 50s. His face was haggard, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept much for some time. But it was more than that… The man’s face was hard. A soldier, maybe a mercenary.

“Who are you?” David got another whiff of the black goo on his chest and turned his head, trying in vain to get away from it. “And what have you done to me?”

“Frankly, I’m not even sure. It’s some kind of nano-paste, like gelatinous robots. They seem to be able to heal about anything. I don’t know how it works, but it does. You’ll be right as rain soon. Maybe within a few hours.”

“Really?” David studied the wounds.

“Perhaps sooner. It’s not like you’re going anywhere. Now tell me who you are.”

“David Vale.”

“Organization?”

“Clocktower, Jakarta Station,” David said automatically.

The man stepped closer to David and drew a pistol.

David realized what he had said. “No, I was working against the Immari, I just now found out that Clocktower was their organization.”

“Bullshit. How did you find me?”

“I didn’t. I’m not looking for you. Hell, I don’t even know who you are.”

“What are you doing down here? How did you get here?”

“The tunnels under Gibraltar. I found a chamber, with the spear—”

“How?”

“A journal.” David shook his head, trying to think. The paste was like having a cold, it was hard to put his thoughts together. “Got it in Tibet, from a monk. You know about it?”

“Of course I do. I wrote it.”

CHAPTER 123

Kate heard the sound of hissing air all around her. She still couldn’t feel her body, but the air was warm, only a little warm at first, but it grew warmer with every passing second. She tried to push up off the floor, but she fell back face-first. She was so tired. She let her limp body collapse into the frigid suit.

Gradually, the warmth filled the suit, and the feeling returned to her body. They — whoever they were — were bringing her body temperature up. The fog on the helmet’s face mask turned to drops of water that ran down in streaks, and a view of the floor materialized in lines, like a shredded picture being reassembled, one skinny strip at a time. It was a metal grate, except… she couldn’t see through it; no, it was a solid metal floor with dimples.

She turned over, onto her back, and stared at the smooth iron ceiling. The fog was receding now. It still felt cool, but it was downright balmy compared to the ice cathedral outside. Where was she? Some sort of decontamination chamber?

Kate sat up. She could feel her fingers now, and she began fiddling with the clamps at her wrists. After some effort, the gloves came off, and she worked at the helmet. Ten minutes later, she was free of the suit and standing in the clothes she had left Gibraltar in. She surveyed the room. It was well lit, about forty feet wide, and probably twice as long. Behind her, she saw the enormous door she had entered through — it was much larger than the door at the other end. She walked deeper into the room, and the smaller door opened. She walked through it and lights popped to life at the ceiling and floor. Each light was faint, but taken together, they shed more than enough light on the gray iron corridor. They reminded her of the running beads of light in the floor of a limo.

She was standing in a giant T-intersection. Which way to go? Before she could decide, she heard something moving toward her. Footsteps.

CHAPTER 124

David tried to make sense of what the man had said. His head was a haze from the nano-paste that was repairing the wounds in his shoulder, chest, and leg and racking his nostrils with a foul odor.

The man claimed to be Patrick Pierce — the author of the journal: an American soldier who had dug the tunnels for the Immari in exchange for one of the Immari leader’s blessing to marry his daughter. But he couldn’t be — the time line was wrong. David tried to piece it together:

> 1917-1918: Patrick Pierce recovers from WWI wounds and discovers the Atlantis structure under Gibraltar, uncovering the Bell and unleashing a deadly epidemic, sold to the world as Spanish Flu. Between 50-100 million people die. Up to a billion are infected on every continent.

> 1918: Pierce puts his wife, Helena, and his unborn child inside a tube.

> 1918-1938: Pierce becomes an unwilling member of the Immari Leadership in order to protect his wife and unborn child. He finishes his excavation at Gibraltar, but he, too, is placed in a tube when Konrad Kane embarks on his expedition — first to Tibet to recover artifacts and massacre the Immaru, then to Antarctica to find what he believes is the Atlantis capital city. Kane never returns.

> 1978: After 40 years, Mallory Craig, Patrick Pierce, and Dieter Kane are awakened from the tubes. Pierce’s wife is still dead, but the child is born. Pierce names her Katherine Warner. The others take new names: Patrick Pierce becomes Tom Warner, Mallory Craig becomes Howard Keegan, and Dieter Kane becomes Dorian Sloane.

> 1985: Tom Warner (Patrick Pierce) goes missing — possibly killed in a research experiment

Could it be true? Could Pierce have been down here since 1985?

Assuming Pierce was in his mid 20s during WWI, as the journal said, he would have been in his mid 40s in 1938 when he went into the tube… That would make him around 52 in 1985 and… 80 today. The man before him was much younger, possibly no more than 50.

David was already feeling better from the paste. He stood, and the man raised the gun. “Stay where you are. You don’t believe me, do you?”

It was hard to argue when you’re wounded and your captor had a gun. David shrugged and looked sheepish. “I believe you.”

“Don’t be cute. And stop lying to me.”

“Look, I’m just trying to put it together, the journal was… 1918 to 1936—”

“I know the journal dates; you’ll recall that I wrote it. Now tell me exactly how you got down here.”

David sat back on the bed. “I was lured into a trap. By Mallory Craig, Director of Clock—”

“I know what he directs. What was the lure?” The man spoke quickly, trying to corner David, hoping he would make a mistake and reveal himself to be a liar.

“Kate Warner. He told me she had gone into the tombs. I went to find her. They took two children from her lab in Jakarta about a week ago; they were treated with a new autism therapy—”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not sure, she won’t tell me—”

“Kate Warner is a six-year-old girl. She doesn’t have a lab in Jakarta or anywhere else.”

David appraised the man. He believed what he was saying. “Kate Warner is a genetics researcher. And she’s definitely not six years old.”

The man lowered the gun and looked down and away. “Impossible,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“I’ve only been down here for a month.”

CHAPTER 125

Kate could barely believe her eyes. Adi and Surya ran around the corner, and upon seeing Kate, ran even faster toward her. Kate bent to hug them, but the boys barely stopped.

They tugged at her arms, urging her to follow them. “Come on, Kate, we have to go. They’re coming.”

CHAPTER 126

Dorian unlatched the orange harness and dropped the remaining three feet to the ice below. The lights on his helmet revealed the mangled basket sticking halfway out of the snow like a crab trap on the bottom of the ocean. Beside it, a massive wad of steel cable lay in a sloppy stack. It had fallen on top of and beside Kate, but the basket had shielded her. A shame.

Dorian stood erect and marched to the portal. He stopped right below the Bell that hung far above, at the top of the dome. The lights from his helmet raked over it several times, and he smiled. It sat there silent, still. The wicked device that had killed his brother instantly and his mother with the plague it unleashed on the survivors… silenced.

The portal opened, as if recognizing that his moment of destiny had arrived. He walked through it.

CHAPTER 127

David’s mind raced. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. The year is 2013.”

“Like hell.” The man held the pistol on David as he walked to a cabinet, reached inside, and withdrew a shiny clump of gold. He threw it to David.

It was a watch. David turned it over and read the date and time. Sept 19th 1985. “Yeah. Huh. I actually don’t have a gold watch with the wrong date, but…” He reached for his pocket.

The man held the pistol up.

David froze. “Relax. I have my own time capsule. A picture in my pocket. Reach in; take a look.”

The man stepped forward and drew the glossy photo out of David’s pocket. He studied the picture of the iceberg with the sub sticking out.

“I’m guessing the Immari weren’t taking satellite photos of icebergs in 1985.”

The man shook his head and looked away as if he were still putting the pieces together. “It’s Kane’s U-Boat, isn’t it?”

David nodded. “We think they found it a few weeks ago. Listen, I’m just as confused as you are. Let’s just talk to each other, try to figure this out. How did you get here?”

“I was working in the hidden chamber. I had figured out how to work their machines.”

“You put the videos on repeat?”

“Videos? Oh yes, I did, in case I didn’t come back and someone found the chamber.” He sat on the cot, looking at his feet, seeming to search his thoughts. “I also put the spear in the door, I can’t even remember why I had it down here. I was testing different artifacts from the Immari vault, hoping something would bring more of the machines to life.”

“The computers?”

“What?”

“The machines in the room, with the videos — the computers,” David said.

“If you like. I managed to get the door open, but I was stuck; there was nothing else I could discover in the chamber. I assumed there was another control station in the next room, so I went through. I tried to hold the door open with the spear. I wish it had worked. I haven’t been able to get back through the door. The machines here are different somehow. Most are turned off. There are a few other mysteries… but I haven’t gotten very far in the last month, that is, until you showed up. It seems like the entire place is waking up, more machines are working and doors open that previously wouldn’t move. I was exploring when I heard the door open and found you.”

“Let’s go back to the time difference. I know you’re not Patrick Pierce or, what was it, Tom Warner. He would be like 80. Just tell me who you are—”

“I am Patrick Pierce.” The man leaned forward. “Time moves slower here. It must be… A day here to every year outside.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But I think it has something to do with the Bell. It could have two functions. It’s a sentry device, to keep non-Atlanteans out, but that’s just the half of it. When we first began studying the device, we thought it was a time machine. It created a field around it, a sort of time dilation bubble. Time moved slower near the Bell. We knew it had something to do with gravitational displacement — folding and warping the spacetime around it. We thought it might even be a wormhole generator”

“A what?”

“Forget the jargon. The theories were based on Einstein’s General Relativity. I’m sure that’s been updated or even thrown out by now. Suffice it to say that in the years after we extracted the Bell in Gibraltar, we noticed that it seemed to slow down time in the space around it. We believed it generated power this way. We were able to essentially reverse the device, by supplying power to it and minimizing its gravitational effects.”

“That’s interesting, but there’s just one problem. The Bell in Gibraltar was removed almost 100 years ago.”

“I know. I removed it. I have another theory. I think when the ship in Gibraltar exploded, the Atlanteans were trapped in the section that broke off. I think the door they went through wasn’t a passage to another room in that ship. I think it was a portal to another ship. I don’t think we’re in Gibraltar.”

CHAPTER 128

Around the next corner, Kate finally got the boys to stop.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded.