The Atlantis World (The Origin Mystery, Book 3) (32 page)

“We need to report this.”

“Too risky. Besides, we were told not to approach any world quarantined by a military beacon.”
By Ares
, Isis thought. She mulled that over for a moment.

“What if the sentinels are malfunctioning?” Janus asked.

“Unlikely. I think someone programmed the sentinels to annihilate the inhabitants of 1723.”

“That’s a big accusation.”

“It was a big civilization.”

Neither said anything after that. Isis’ thoughts drifted to the Exile world and to Lykos, lying in the stasis chamber in the resurrection raft. She decided to alter her plan, to get back there sooner than she had promised, just in case. “Let’s take some time to think about this. And let’s move on while we do. What’s our destination?”

“2319”

Isis pulled up the survey details, focusing on 2319’s location. It was too far away from the Exile world; she couldn’t reach it in the
Delta Lander
. She searched the database of planets that would work.

“What about 1918? It had three hominid species during the initial survey. It could be interesting to do a comparative evolutionary study.”

Janus thought for a moment. “Yes. I agree.”

When 1918 came into view, Isis knew she had made a good choice. The world was the third planet in its solar system, had a single, uninhabited, rocky moon, and had recently undergone a significant global climate change. A small isthmus had risen between two of the minor continents in the northern and southern hemisphere, dividing the planet’s massive ocean into two smaller bodies of water, altering sea currents and the habitats of several species of primates on the central continent. Several hominids were venturing out of their ancestral jungle habitats onto the plains. The environmental and dietary changes were causing permanent changes to their genomes.

“I’m now reading four genetically distinct hominid populations,” Janus said. “Assigning catalog numbers. They’ll be subspecies 8468, 8469, 8470, and 8471.”

They spent a few more hours conducting their pre-landing surveys. The beacon that hid the world was fully functional and passed all its system checks. Per protocol, they began making arrangements to bury their primary ship deep under the dark side of the world’s moon.

“I’d like to take the
Alpha Lander
down,” Janus said. “It’s overkill, but the C arc is empty, and I think there might be an opportunity.”

Isis agreed; she only needed the
Delta Lander
for her purposes.

On the surface, they took DNA samples and conducted a series of experiments, comparing the data with the initial survey.

“The progress is amazing,” Janus said. “And the diversity.”

“Indeed. I’d like to do a longitudinal study.” She tried not to appear nervous while she waited for Janus’ answer. “I don’t think anyone on the homeworld would mind. They haven’t seemed to miss us lately.”

“I agree. And a longer-term comparison would be interesting. Suggested sample interval?”

“Ten thousand years?”

Janus compared the recent data and the initial survey. “That should work well.” He smiled. “I’ll advise the science council not to expect us anytime soon.

The two scientists prepped and retired to their stasis chambers. Just before she stepped in, Isis set her own countdown for five thousand years. When she awoke, she would port back to the main ship, then take the
Delta Lander
to check in on the Exile world, just to make sure.

But the five thousand years awakening sequence never came.

Isis once again awoke to an alarm—an urgent encrypted communication. She checked the hibernation log. Only 3482 years had passed. She and Janus raced to the
Alpha Lander’s
communications bay.

The first message was an urgent advisory that their homeworld was under attack. Immediately, the memory of the sentinel attack that had killed her on world 1723 ran through Isis’ mind.

“Look,” Janus said. “There’s a sentinel directive here, commanding all sentinels not on the line to rally to the homeworld.”

Isis paced the room.

“It must be a Serpentine invasion,” Janus whispered.

“Then we’re not safe here.”

“True. But we can’t leave either.”

They ate after that, neither saying much. Isis’ thoughts drifted from her own world to the Exile world.

The comm alert went off again, and they rushed back to the communications bay.

The new message was even shorter. Their world had fallen. They were ordered to simply hide and await further instructions.

“We’re marooned then,” Janus said.

Where sadness should have been, Isis sensed only contentment from Janus.

C
HAPTER
45

Dorian had almost regained his strength. The hours in the conference booth reliving Ares’ past were taking an increasing toll on him. He sat, staring out at the sentinel assembly line that stretched into the blackness of space. He was close to unraveling the full truth behind Ares, including his motivations and why he had come to Earth, what he wanted with humanity.

Dorian had been impressed with how Ares had handled the revolt on his own world. It hadn’t been as dramatic as Ares’ flood of Earth and the plague before it, but nevertheless, Ares had proved a proficient soldier.

Dorian stepped into the conference booth and loaded Ares’ final memories.

After the Exile, the deep sense of emptiness had returned for Ares. He once again found himself in a world where he had no place. He was an outsider in a world he had created. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but he knew that he had done what had to be done. That was the thread that ran through his entire disjointed existence. Around him, the intellectual utopia his world had always longed to become rapidly took shape.

While the world around him was changing, Ares was staying the same. He was truly a relic, a man out of time and out of touch.

There were no battles left for him to fight, no great campaign, no reason to exist.

He once again requested to be allowed to die, and once again, his request was denied. He once more took the long walk to the tomb that held the ancient resurrection ship, the celebration even larger this time, the crowd packed to the brim, the noise deafening, the camera flashes blinding.

Nothingness followed. Only the curve of glass and wisps of fog within the tube, and the faint tickle of the turning of time.

Around him, the ship shook.
An earthquake?
Ares wondered. Impossible. Any tectonic anomalies would never be allowed to progress.

His tube opened, and Ares ran out of the ancient ark. The sky was dark except for flashes in the distance and large, triangular ships descending. Blasts erupted in the city before him. The skywalks severed and buildings collapsed. The entire metropolis was coming down.

Heat issued forth, and the cacophony engulfed him, disorienting him. It was as if time were standing still, as if he were in a dream, a nightmare. The world Ares had sacrificed so much for was falling, crumbling before his very eyes in a wave of heat and light and thunder. The roar rattled him to his core, and he staggered backwards involuntarily. This was not a situation he could
handle
. In that moment, he felt utterly powerless, alone against an unknown force, an enemy with no equal he had ever seen.

A ship landed just outside the ark and masked soldiers poured out, surrounding him.

Soldiers. Here.

Ares’ tried to process it. It was impossible. The sentinels…

One of the soldiers stepped forward and projected a hologram into the area between him and Ares. A violent battle raged in the space around the Atlantean homeworld. Tens of thousands of sentinel spheres fought a losing campaign, just as they had around the first Atlantean homeworld. For Ares, history was repeating itself. The wreckage of the sentinel spheres was slowly forming a new debris field that stretched to the sun.

Ares didn’t recognize the other ships. They weren’t Serpentine; they were much smaller and better-adapted to fighting the sentinel spheres, as if they had been built for that purpose.

The man removed his helmet. Lykos.

Ares recognized the rebel leader. Ares had negotiated with him during the revolt, and considered him the most reasonable man in an utterly unreasonable, barbaric faction.

“You betrayed us,” Lykos said.

“We have not,” Ares shot back. “Why are you attacking us?”

“You struck first, Ares. Call off the sentinels. That’s all we want.”

Ares rifled through possibilities, discarding move after move, searching for any way out. “I will,” he said, a plan taking shape in his mind. “The sentinel control systems are located inside the ark. I’ll disable the sentinels, and then we can talk about making this right.”

Lykos eyed him. “I’ll accompany you—to keep you to your word.”

The two men walked in silence past the stone edifice that housed the ark. As they passed the vast chamber, Ares realized the flaw in his plan. The tubes were filling with prominent citizens who had just been killed. The resurrection ship had been keyed to resurrect critical citizens in the event of an extinction-level catastrophe. It was the fallback point for Atlantean civilization.

More tubes filled. Some opened, and bodies poured out, falling lifeless on the floor.
Resurrection syndrome
, Ares thought. The trauma of their death had been too much, just as it had been for a few during the labor revolts. How much time had passed? Thousands of years? The Atlanteans had slipped so far into a utopian existence that the experience of a violent death was too much for any citizen’s psyche. They were ruined, all of them.

The tubes continued to fill and open, body after body of unmoving Atlanteans spilling out.

He had to stop the resurrection sequence, had to end their purgatory. They could never wake up. But he could make them safe. He was a soldier. It was his job… his duty.

The realization filled him with fire, purpose. Focus.

Ares rushed forward, killing Lykos in a single blow. He ran through the corridors to the ark’s bridge, where he disabled the resurrection cycle, ensuring that his people remained in stasis but didn’t emerge from the tubes.

He accessed the sentinel control program and instructed the spheres fighting the Exile ships to aid in his escape.

C
HAPTER
46

For a long while, Ares stood on the ark’s bridge, watching the blue and white waves of hyperspace form and flow by on the viewscreen. The ancient relic had performed admirably, jumping out of the planet’s gravity well and in the next split second, slipping into hyperspace, away from the battlefield of the Atlantean homeworld.

Ares had wondered if the ancient ship would still function. Their benefactors had built it to last, and Ares wondered if the avatar who had provided the ark to him so long ago had known this would happen, somehow planned for it.

Ares hadn’t seen the avatar since the exodus, when he had condemned Ares’ actions, what he called his great betrayal. Ares had ignored the words, charging ahead with his own plan to secure his people. And now that plan had backfired. He was partly responsible for the destruction of his world, and the thought haunted him.

He stomped down the dark metallic corridors, deep in thought. He replayed the conversation with the avatar, specific phrases jumping out.

We allowed our society to fracture. The Serpentine Army is all that remains in your time
.

Ares knew that his people had repeated the same mistake. Atlantean society had divided, but Ares had made accommodations: the anti-Serpentine laws. In the chamber that held the thousands of tubes that stretched into the darkness, Ares stopped at the tube that held Lykos. The rebel’s eyes were hard. Ares would soon know the secrets his mind held. The resurrection process had captured his memories, and Ares could watch them.

At one of the adaptive research labs, Ares stepped into the yellow light inside the large glass vat and watched Lykos’ memories flash by.

He saw Lykos board a vessel in the Exile fleet and leave the Atlantean homeworld for the colony world, where he and his people set about building a humble, yet robust society with farming and hard work at its core. Years passed, the settlements grew, leaders were selected, and Lykos became a beacon to his people.

Ares watched him hike into the hills one day. A lander, one of the Atlantean science vessels, lay in wait, and a scientist Ares recognized stood before it: Isis.

Ares saw their conversation and Lykos take the container. After it was deployed, Lykos slipped into the tube in the resurrection raft and time flowed by, interrupted at regular intervals.

The Exiles had formed a cabal of leaders who knew the truth about the accelerated evolution, and they apprised Lykos periodically. Where settlements had been, villages emerged, morphed into towns, cities, and finally into sprawling metropolises that rivaled those on the Atlantean homeworld.

To Ares, the march of civilization was like watching the time-lapse photography of a green plant spreading out and blooming into an intricate, multicolored flower.

In the next memory, Lykos charged out of the tube in the resurrection raft, past the rock outcroppings, to the side of the mountain, where he watched glowing embers streak across the sky and crash into the cities. Ash and fire consumed the horizon.