The Atlantis World (The Origin Mystery, Book 3) (33 page)

Though he could barely admit it, Ares knew the slaughter was partly his fault. In the years after the Exodus, he had programmed the sentinel drones to attack any species that advanced across a threshold, any species that didn’t contain the pure form of the Atlantis Gene. Isis hadn’t been the first to isolate what made the Atlanteans genetically distinct; the science teams in the years after the Exodus had taken samples from countless hominid species, isolating the genes that controlled Atlantean evolution. Ares had used the blueprint to distinguish any potential enemies.

The avatar had warned Ares the moment the plan had formed in his mind, condemning it as a betrayal, but Ares had thought it justified: it was merely the way of survival. Any advanced civilization would become a danger to the Atlanteans. They could break the sentinel line, just as the Atlanteans had as they ventured out, or worse, attack the new Atlantean homeworld directly. Or they could repeat the Serpentine mistake, allowing their technology to overrun them and take control of their civilization. There was room for exactly one advanced race within the new sentinel line, and Ares had programmed the sentinels to annihilate any emerging species without the Atlantis Gene—any advanced civilization that wasn’t Atlantean.

In Lykos’ memories, Ares watched the sentinels execute their programming, dropping kinetic bombardments on the Exile world as they had on many others, obliterating the cities and altering the planet’s climate, which would no doubt do in any survivors.

But Lykos’ memories revealed that the Exiles had battled hard for survival on their ruined world. The race Isis had helped create was resilient, determined. They retreated underground, building cities that receded below the surface with as much sophistication as the metropolises that previously towered above. Isis’ therapy had created a race with a run-away intellect and something far more dangerous: an uncompromising drive to survive. They overcame challenge after challenge. They replicated the Atlantean resurrection technology, and their leaders used it to leapfrog through the ages as they prepared their escape from the wasteland of their world. And they had. Thousands of ships sprang from beneath the surface, engaging the sentinels that appeared in space, eventually winning the conflict and jumping away.

The sentinels had hunted them relentlessly, and the Exile-sentinel war had ebbed and flowed for several thousands of years. The Exile fleet had eventually turned the tide enough to make a mad dash for the Atlantean homeworld, hoping to force their former persecutors to call off the sentinels that had tortured and massacred them for years.

Ares watched Lykos land his triangular ship just beyond the ancient shrine that held the ark, where he and his soldiers found Ares and the two men’s memories joined.

Ares stepped out of the yellow vat. He was only partly to blame for the fall of his world. The remainder of the fault lay with Isis, and she was the key to turning the tide.

At the chamber that held the resurrection tubes, Ares stood before the double doors. It was a great irony: the harsh measures the Atlanteans had undertaken to protect themselves had eventually grown an enemy that brought about their downfall. And in their march to a peaceful, advanced civilization, they had become psychologically unable to even fight back.

Ares wondered how he would cure his people, if they even could be fixed. But he had larger issues to deal with first. The Exile fleet was capable and growing. It would soon overwhelm the sentinels, and then find the ark. Time was short. And when the sentinels were gone, the Serpentine Army would pour through, wiping out the Exiles and Atlanteans alike.

His options were limited. He needed a new weapon, a technology that would strike the final blow.

Isis. She was the key.

C
HAPTER
47

Kate stared out of the yellow vat, steeling herself for one final journey into Isis’ past. The next memories would reveal the truth of the Atlantean presence on Earth, and she hoped, the key to stopping Ares.

Isis felt that the years after the distress call from home seemed to drag on. Every time she and Janus awoke from their tubes, there was no update waiting. The only clue of the march of time was the readings from the hominid subspecies they had come here to study. They had watched their initial groups spread out across the world, rise, adapt, die out, and rebound countless times. Their logs charted the progress, and they settled into the only routine they knew: analyzing the data, designing new experiments, and periodically venturing out to conduct them. Janus remained detached, clinical, his only emotion directed at Isis. Even with their circumstances, she didn’t reciprocate. But she was changing, growing more connected to the emerging species on the planet. Perhaps it had been the drama on the Atlantean homeworld or her time with Lykos, but something had broken loose inside her, an emotional cataclysm that couldn’t be stopped. But there was no outlet for it. She focused on the science and bided her time, hoping for an update.

A new group of hominids evolved on the central continent, and they assigned a new catalog number: subspecies 8472. They were advancing rapidly, developing remarkable tool making and communication abilities.

“They’re one to watch,” Janus said.

“I agree.”

Like the others, they tagged the new subspecies and checked their population levels each time she and Janus awoke from their hibernation cycles.

An alarm woke them, and Isis quickly saw the source: a supervolcano on an island near the planet’s equator had thrown ash into the atmosphere, lowering temperatures on several continents. The volcanic winter had decimated the new subspecies’ population. They were on the brink of extinction.

When Isis ventured out to take a sample from the last two survivors, she made a fateful decision. In a cave, staring at the survivors, she was unable to simply watch them die. She could save them. For all she knew, the strike on the Atlantean homeworld could have been part of a series of attacks on hundreds of human populations on worlds across the new sentinel line. She wouldn’t watch this species slip into extinction, especially when her research could save them.

She brought the survivors back to the
Alpha Lander
and administered a modified version of the Atlantis Gene therapy she had treated the Exiles with.

She turned to find Janus in the research lab.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m… conducting an experiment.”

“What kind?”

“Modifying a few genes that control brain wiring. I think I can give them a greater chance at survival. It’s my research—”

“You can’t.”

“We have to,” Isis said. “They could be the last of our kind. We can’t watch them go extinct.”

Janus continued his protests but had finally agreed, provided they monitored the experiment closely.

Several hibernation cycles passed without incident. Isis and Janus watched the subspecies’ population rebound and venture out of the central continent, advancing geographically and intellectually. Their progress was breathtaking, and Isis felt a sense of pride that matched Janus’ growing apprehensiveness.

“This could slip out of our hands,” Janus said.

“It won’t.”

“We need to consolidate and control the genome. Mutations could occur during the hibernation intervals. We could awaken to a hostile, advanced civilization.”

This time Isis relented. They placed a radiation beacon in the Alpha’s bones and ensured that the first tribe kept it close.

Several cycles later, they awoke to another alarm: an incoming ship.

“It’s General Ares,” Janus said. “The ark.”

Ares buried the ship under the thick ice cap that covered the continent at the southern pole, and Janus and Isis ported to his ship.

Ares stood waiting for them in the portal room and spoke without preamble, his enraged eyes boring into Isis. “You massacred our people.”

“We’ve been here the entire time,” Janus shot back.

Ares activated a wall panel, and a hologram emerged, replaying the memories from Lykos. The three of them watched Isis land on the Exile world and provide the genetic therapy. The Exile civilization advanced rapidly after that, until its near annihilation by the sentinels. Years after the massacre, the Exiles rose from the ashes, into space, where they bested the sentinels lying in wait. The final sequences were of the Exiles laying siege to the new Atlantean homeworld, killing countless inhabitants.

Isis felt her legs go weak. Her attempt to reunite the Atlantean race had led to its downfall, a war beyond imagination.

No words came. She felt listless.

Janus’ voice was harsh. “It’s a fake.”

“It’s not. I have Lykos in a tube. He’ll verify it.”

Isis tried but failed to hide her response. Awareness came back to her in a crash, and she desperately wanted to charge out of the communications bay. Janus read her expression, and his reaction was the most emotion Isis had ever seen him display. His hurt was almost as crushing as seeing the holomovie.

“The memories are accurate,” Isis said quietly.

“If so,” Janus said, focusing on Ares, “it means
you
unleashed the sentinels on our own people. You caused the downfall.”

“The sentinels were built to protect us from any threats.”

“The Exiles were no threat. Just an advanced civilization. We saw another, on another world. Also bombarded. Will you deny it?”

“I will not,” Ares said. “I’ve protected us from countless threats. We’d be long extinct if it weren’t for me. Her therapy made them a threat. Had she not altered their genome, they would have been left alone.”

Isis stood there, still stunned.

“What do you want from us?” Janus asked.

“I read your research logs. You’ve performed a similar genetic alteration on a human species here.”

“Yes,” Janus said. “To prevent their extinction.”

“Well, your last science experiment almost caused
our extinction
. I’m joining your little expedition to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself.”

Ares and Janus had argued for what felt to Isis like hours. Ultimately, Janus had yielded. Before they left the ark, Isis turned to Ares. “I’d like to see Lykos.”

“I think you two have seen enough of each other. And besides, we don’t allow visitation for prisoners of war.”

C
HAPTER
48

In the weeks after Ares arrived, life almost went back to normal for Isis and Janus. They conducted their experiments as they had, except now Ares was constantly present, always looking over their shoulders, rarely saying a word. And neither did Janus. When he did speak, it was only about the task at hand, and there was no excitement, no passion for the work he had dedicated his life to. That, along with the knowledge of what she had done to her own people, drove Isis into a well of darkness. With each passing day, the walls of the lander and the small world they could never leave seemed to collapse in on her. She felt trapped, truly alone.

She often turned to find Ares’ cold eyes staring at her, but he never approached her or said anything.

One day, when Janus was in the field, Ares sent for her. She reluctantly ported to the resurrection ark. In the back of her mind, a hope lingered:
he’s reconsidered. He’s going to let me see Lykos
. She followed the ship’s directive to report to the auxiliary stasis bay. It made sense to keep Lykos there, separate from the primary stasis bay. Her hope grew.

The doors parted, and Isis’s mouth fell open. A dozen tubes stood in a semicircle, and each held a different hominid.

“Just wanted to get your attention. I know you have an affinity for barbarians.”

Isis spun around. “You had no right to take them.”

“They’re in danger. In fact, thanks to you, they’re the most endangered species in the universe. The Serpentine Army will assimilate them one day. Unless the sentinels find this world and obliterate them first. Assuming, of course, the Exiles don’t find us all—”

“You’re wrong—”

“You weren’t there, Isis. You should have seen the Exile fleet sacking our world. They’re savages. Savages with incredible abilities but no control. Monsters, created by your therapy. Victims of your experiments. Just like subspecies 8472.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want to give you a chance, Isis. A chance to redeem yourself.”

When Isis said nothing, Ares continued. “We have an opportunity to right all the wrongs, to bring our people back together and save these humans.”

“How?”

“We can guide their evolution. We can create something that will end this war.”

Isis wanted desperately to resist, to run out of the room and never return, but the lure of righting the wrongs she had committed was irresistible. She decided that she would hear Ares out. There was no harm in that. Quietly, she said, “I’m listening.”

“I’ve taken genetic samples, but I don’t have the skill to engineer the species I need. You can. And I have the knowledge you need—information about how the sentinels target DNA and the Serpentine virus, information that I’ve kept from our people since the Exodus.” On the screen at the other end of the room, a DNA sequence appeared. “This is the Serpentine virus that was used on the Atlantean expeditionary fleet before the Exodus. It’s the key. With my information, and your knowledge of genetic engineering, we can change the course of the universe.” Ares stepped closer to her. “The species we create will restore our people. If you refuse, you truly have killed us all.”