have the retrovirus in the signal, and Kate hoped she would know the full truth of the Atlantis World.
She returned to the vat, donned the silver helmet, and delved back into the memories Janus had tried to erase.
The Beta Lander shook violently from the earthquakes after the impact, but to Isis’ relief, it remained intact. When the tremors subsided, the doors to the resurrection bay slid open and Janus ran in. He must have ported to the lander right after the impact, Isis thought. It wasn’t like him to take such a risk.
The tube opened, and Isis staggered out. Janus held his arms out to catch her, but she waved him away with her hand. “I’m okay.”
“We need to go.”
He led her to the portal, and they stepped out onto their main ship. Janus quickly keyed the next destination and opened a hyperspace window before they could reach their stasis chambers.
“Why did the sentinel attack me?” Isis asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe the world was invaded by the Serpentine Army.”
“Impossible,” Isis said. “They would have had to break the sentinel line. If so, they would have reached our homeworld a long time ago. The ruins on 1723 were old.”
“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.
CHAPTER 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 fough