CHAPTER 77
Kate thought this dream was far more vivid than the others. Not a dream… a memory. She stepped into the ship’s decompression chamber and waited. Alpha Lander, that was the ship’s name.
The suit she wore moved slightly as the air swirled around it.
The massive doors parted, revealing the beach and rocky cliff she had seen before. The blanket of black ash that had covered the land before was gone.
The voice in her helmet was crisp, and Kate jumped slightly at the sound. “Recommend you take a chariot. It’s a long walk.”
“Copy,” Kate said. Her voice sounded different, mechanical, emotionless.
She walked to the wall and held her hand to the panel. A cloud of blue light emerged, and she worked her fingers to manipulate it. The wall opened, and a hovering alloy chariot moved out into the room and waited for her.
Kate stepped onto it and worked the control panel. The chariot rotated and zoomed out of the room, but Kate barely felt any motion—the device created some sort of bubble that kept the inertia from swaying her.
The chariot moved over the beach, and Kate looked up. The sky was clear—no traces of ash. The sun burned brightly, and Kate saw green vegetation looming beyond the rock cliff that bordered the beach.
The world was healing. Life was returning everywhere.
How long had it been since she had administered the therapy—the genetic technology the humans would come to call the Atlantis Gene? Years? Decades?
The chariot rose to clear the rock ridge.
Kate marveled at the green, untouched landscape. The jungle was returning, rising from the ashes like a new world that had been created from scratch—a vast garden built as a sanctuary for these early humans.
In the distance, a column of black smoke rose into the air. The chariot charged on, and the settlement emerged on the horizon. They had built it at the base of a high rock wall, to better protect them from predators in the night. The camp was arranged so that there would be only one way into it, and that entrance was heavily guarded. Shanties and lean-tos formed a circle, the largest structures built directly into the wall at the rear of the camp. The blazing communal fire at the center of the camp also helped ward off predators.
Kate knew the humans would learn to make fire later, but at this point in their development, they could only keep fires that had already been created by sources like lightning. And keeping the fire burning was imperative to the camp—for the protection it offered and for cooking the food that would help their brains develop.
Four males stood around the fire, feeding it, tending it, ensuring it never went out. The fire rose from a square stone pit. Large boulders ringed the towering blaze, forming a wall that kept the children from the inferno. And there were so many children, maybe even a hundred of them, scurrying about, playing, and motioning to one another.
“Their population is exploding,” her partner said. “We must do something. We have to limit the tribe’s size.”
“No.”
“Unchecked, they will—”
“We don’t know what will happen,” Kate insisted.
“We will make it worse for them—”
“I’m going to inspect the alphas,” Kate said, changing the subject. The issue of their rapid population expansion was a concern, but it didn’t have to be a problem. This world was small, but it was big enough for a much, much larger population—if they were peaceful. That would be her focus.
The chariot set down, and she stepped out. The kids around the camp stopped and stared. Many wandered toward her, but their parents rushed forward and shoved them to the ground. They fell down as well, placing their face to the ground and extending their arms.
Her partner’s voice was even more solemn. “This is very bad. They take you for a god—”
Kate ignored him. “Proceeding into the camp.”
Kate motioned for the humans to stand, but they remained face-down. She walked to the closest one, a woman, and stood her up. She helped the next person up, and then everyone was standing, rushing to her. They mobbed her as she waded past the crackling fire at the center of the camp.
She spotted the chief’s hovel instantly. It was larger and adorned with ivory tusks. Two muscled men stood guard at the entrance. They stepped aside as she approached.
Inside, an elderly man and woman sat in a corner. The alphas. They looked so old, so withered. They had never fully recovered from their near-starvation in the cave. Three males sat around a square stone platform in the center of the hut, discussing what looked like a map or some sort of drawing. They all rose. The taller male stepped toward Kate, but the elderly man stood on shaky limbs and waved him back. He bowed to Kate, then turned and pointed at the wall. A series of primitive drawings were spread out in a line. The helmet translated them:
Before the Sky God, there was only darkness. The Sky God remade man in his image and created a new world, lush and fertile for him. The Sky God brought back the sun and promised that it would shine so long as man lived in the image of God and protected his kingdom.
It was a creation myth. A surprisingly accurate one. Their minds had advanced in a great leap forward, achieving self-awareness and problem-solving abilities they had never before known. They had focused their newfound intellect on the greatest questions of all: How did we get here? What are we? Who created us? What is our purpose?
For the first time, they realized the mysteries surrounding their existence, and they groped for answers, as all emerging species do. In the absence of absolute answers, they had recorded their interpretations of what they believed had happened.
Her partner sounded nervous now. “This is extremely dangerous.”
“Maybe not—”
“They are not ready for this,” her partner declared with finality.
They were too young for mythology, but if their minds had already come this far, the religion that followed could be a powerful tool. “We can fix this. This… could save them.”
Her partner didn’t answer.
The silence weighed on Kate. It would be easier if he argued. The silence demanded she justify her claim.
“We have to end this experiment now, before we make it worse for them,” her partner said, softly now.
Kate wavered. Developing religion this early was indeed dangerous. It could be corrupted. Selfish members of the tribe could use it for their own benefit, manipulating the others. It could be used as a justification, a basis for all sorts of evil. But… used correctly, it could also be an incredibly civilizing force. A guide.
“We can help them,” Kate insisted. “We can fix this.”
“How?”
“We give them the human code. We’ll embed the lessons, the ethics, in their stories.”
“It cannot save them.”
“It has worked before.”
“It will only last so long. What happens when they stop believing? Stories won’t satisfy their minds forever.”
“We will address that problem when it arises,” Kate said.
“We can’t be here to hold their hand. We can’t solve all their problems.”
“Why can’t we? We made them. Some of us is in them now. It’s our responsibility. And it’s not like we can do anything else. We certainly can’t go home.”
Kate’s words brought only silence now. Her partner had relented. For now. She hated the disagreement, but she knew what she had to do.
She held her forearm out and tapped at the controls. The ship’s computer quickly analyzed the primitives’ symbolic language. It was crude, but the computer easily fashioned a dictionary. She held her palm out, and the light shone from it onto the stone wall. The symbols she projected lined up just below the lines the tribe had written.
The elderly alpha nodded. Two males rushed from the hovel and returned with two large green leaves filled with a thick burgundy liquid. Kate thought it was crushed berries at first, but then she realized what the leaves held: blood.
The males began painting the gray stone walls with it, copying the symbols she projected.
Kate opened her eyes. She was back in the helicopter with David. The door was open and the sea glistened below. The breeze filled her lungs and she realized how much they hurt. She wiped a sheet of sweat from her forehead. David’s eyes were on her.
He pointed to the headset hanging in the middle of the space. Kate lunged for it and pulled it over her ears. He leaned forward and clicked the dial.
“We’re on a private channel now,” he said.
She involuntarily glanced at Chang and Janus sitting across from them.
“What’s wrong?” David asked, focusing on her, ignoring the scientists who sat impassively.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know.” Kate wiped another layer of sweat off her face. “The memories are coming; I can’t stop them now. I’m reliving them… it’s like they’re… taking over… I think, I don’t know. I’m scared that I’m losing… some of myself.”
David’s eyes raked over her, as if he were not sure what to say.
Kate tried to focus. “Maybe I’m at the age when the Atlantean therapy, whatever the tube does, the memory restoration, takes over and—”
“Nothing is taking over. You’re going to stay exactly the way you are.”
“There’s something else. I think we’re missing something.”
David cut his eyes to the two scientists. “What?”
“I don’t know.”
Kate closed her eyes, but no memories came this time. Only sleep.