oment, he realized some of what Kate had become, the growing gulf that existed between the power of her mind and his.
Two weeks ago, Kate had found a cure for the Atlantis Plague, a global pandemic that had claimed a billion lives in its initial outbreak and countless more during its final mutation. The plague had divided the world. The survival rate was low, but those who survived were changed at the genetic level. Some survivors benefited from the plague—they grew stronger and smarter. The remainder devolved, receding back to a primitive existence. The world’s population had rallied around two opposing factions: the Orchid Alliance, which sought to slow and cure the plague, and Immari International, which had unleashed the plague and advocated letting the genetic transformation run its course. Kate, David, and a team of soldiers and scientists had stopped the plague and the Immari plan by isolating the pieces of a cure: endogenous retroviruses left by past Atlantean interventions in human evolution. The retroviruses were essentially viral fossils, the genetic breadcrumbs from instances where Atlanteans had modified the human genome.
In the final hours of the plague, with millions dying each minute, Kate had found a way to reconcile all the viral fossils and cure the plague. Her therapy had created a stable, unified Atlantean-Human genome, but she had paid a high price for the breakthrough.
That knowledge came from repressed memories within Kate’s subconscious—memories from one of the Atlantean scientists who had conducted the genetic experiments on humanity over the course of thousands of years. The Atlantean memories enabled her to cure the plague, but they had also taken much of her own humanity—the part of Kate that was distinctly Kate and not the Atlantean scientist. As the clock had ticked down and the plague had spread around the globe, Kate had chosen to keep the Atlantean knowledge and cure the plague instead of ridding herself of the memories and protecting her own identity.
She had told David that she believed she could repair the damage the Atlantean memories had done, but as the days had passed, it became clear to David that Kate’s experiments weren’t working. She got sicker each day, and she refused to discuss her situation with David. He had felt her slipping away, and now, as he watched the playback, Kate reading the screens instantaneously, he knew that he had underestimated how drastic her transformation was.
“Is she reading that fast?” Milo asked.
“It’s more than that. I think she’s learning that fast,” David whispered.
David felt a different kind of fear rising inside him. Was it because Kate had changed so much or because he was realizing how far over his head he was?
Start with the simple stuff, he thought.
“Alpha, how can Dr. Warner operate you without voice or tactile input?”
“Dr. Warner received a neural implant nine local days ago.”
“Received? How?”
“Dr. Warner programmed me to perform the implant surgery.”
Just one more thing that hadn’t come up during their nightly Honey, what did you do at work today? discussion.
Milo cut his eyes at David, a slight grin forming on his lips. “I want one.”
“That makes one of us.” David focused on the holomovie. “Alpha, increase playback rate.”
“Interval?”
“Five minutes per second.”
The flashing screens of text morphed into solid waves, like white water sloshing back and forth in a black fish tank. Kate didn’t move a muscle.
Seconds ticked by. Then the screen was off, and Kate was floating in the glowing yellow vat.
“Stop,” David said. “Replay telemetry just before Dr. Warner enters the round… whatever it is.”
David held his breath as he watched. The screen with text went out, and Kate walked to the rear of the room, just beside the vats. A wall slid open, she grabbed a silver helmet, and then walked to the vat, which slid open. She stepped inside, donned the helmet, and after the glass vat sealed, lifted off the ground.
“Alpha, resume accelerated playback.”
The room remained the same with a single exception: slowly, blood began trickling out of Kate’s helmet.
In the last second, David and Milo entered, and then three words flashed on the screen.
End of Telemetry
Milo turned to David. “Now what?”
David glanced between the screen and the vat that held Kate. Then he eyed the empty one.
“Alpha, can I join Dr. Warner’s experiment?”
The panel at the back of the room slid open, revealing a single silver helmet.
Milo’s eyes grew wide. “This is a bad idea, Mr. David.”
“Got any good ideas?”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“You know I do.”
The glass vat rotated, its glass opening. David stepped inside, pulled the helmet on, and the research lab disappeared.
CHAPTER 3
It took a few seconds for David’s eyes to adjust to the bright light beaming into the space. Directly ahead, a rectangular display flashed text he couldn’t make out yet. The place reminded him of a train station with its arrivals/departures board, except that there seemed to be no entrance or exit to the cavernous space, just a solid white floor and arched columns that let light shine through.
Alpha’s booming voice echoed. “Welcome to the Resurrection Archives. State your command.”
David stepped closer to the board and began reading.
Memory Date (Health) Replay
=========== ======== ======
12.37.40.13 (Corrupted) Complete
13.48.19.23 (Intact) Complete
13.56.64.15 (Corrupted) Complete
A dozen rows continued—all complete. The last entry was:
14.72.47.33 (Corrupted) In-progress
“Alpha, what are my options?”
“You may open an archived memory or join a simulation in-progress.”
In-progress. Kate would be there. If she was hurt… or under attack. David glanced around. He had no weapons, nothing to defend her with. It didn’t matter.
“Join simulation in progress.”
“Notify existing members?”
“No,” he said on instinct. The element of surprise might preserve some advantage.
The lighted train station and board faded and a much smaller, darker place took form. The bridge of a spaceship. David stood at the rear. Text, charts, and images scrolled across the walls of the oval room, covering them. At the front, two figures stood before a wide viewscreen, staring at a world that floated against the black of space. David instantly recognized both of them.
On the left stood Dr. Arthur Janus, the other member of the Atlantean research team. He had helped David save Kate from Dorian Sloane and Ares in the final hours of the Atlantis Plague, but David still had mixed feelings about Janus. The brilliant scientist had created a false cure for the Atlantis Plague that erased seventy thousand years of human evolution—reverting the human race to a point before the Atlantis Gene was administered. Janus had sworn that rolling back human evolution was the only way to save humanity from an unimaginable enemy.
David felt no such conflicting feelings for the scientist standing beside Janus. He felt only love. In the reflection of the black areas of space on the screen, David could just make out the small features of Kate’s beautiful face. She concentrated hard on the image of the world. David had seen that look many times. He was almost lost in it, but a sharp voice, calling out from overhead, snapped him back.
“This area is under a military quarantine. Evacuate immediately. Repeat: this area is under a military quarantine.”
Another voice interrupted. It was similar to Alpha’s tone. “Evacuation course configured. Execute?”
“Negative,” Kate said. “Sigma, silence notifications from military buoys and maintain geosynchronous orbit.”
“This is reckless,” Janus said.
“I have to know.”
David stepped closer to the screen. The world was similar to earth, but the colors were different. The oceans were too green, the clouds too yellow, the land only red, brown and light tan. There were no trees. Only round, black craters interrupted the barren landscape.
“It could have been a natural occurrence,” Janus said. “A series of comets or an asteroid field.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You don’t—”
“It wasn’t.” The viewscreen zoomed to one of the impact craters. “A series of roads lead to each crater. There were cities there. This was an attack. Maybe they carved up an asteroid field and used the pieces for the kinetic bombardment.” The viewscreen changed again. A ruined city in a desert landscape took shape, its skyscrapers crumbling. “They let the environmental fallout take care of anyone outside the major cities. There could be answers there.” Kate’s voice was final. David knew that voice. He had experienced it several times himself.
Apparently Janus had as well. He lowered his head. “Take the Beta Lander. It will give you better maneuverability without the arcs.”