The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery 1)

Dorian squared on the crowd. “I am a soldier. I was born into this. I’ve dedicated my life to this cause. My father gave his life for this cause. Our cause. But I know you are not a soldier. You’ve been drafted, but I won’t ask you to do what you’re not capable of doing. That would be cruel, and I am not a cruel man. Immari is not a cruel organization. If, at any point, you cannot participate in the operation that follows, you can simply inform one of the Immari Security agents in my personal unit. There’s no shame in it. We are all links in a chain. If one link breaks, the chain breaks and then disaster happens. And that’s what this is all about — preventing disaster, no matter how it may seem. I thank you, and I wish you good luck.”

An Immari Security agent greeted Dorian as he exited the stage. “Great speech, boss.”

“Don’t patronize me. You need to keep a close eye on these people. Any one of them could sink the entire operation. Where are we on the primary task force?”

“The Immari components are assembling at the Clocktower Station HQ. The Clocktower agents are in the crowd. They should arrive when we do.”

“Good. Give everyone thirty minutes to compile their intel, then convene the group. Where are we on the trains?”

“We should have the roster of live and dead within the hour.”

“Speed it up. I want to have it for the meeting.”

CHAPTER 69

Milo swung the lantern back behind him, illuminating the stone steps. “Not much farther, Dr. Kate.”

They had descended the spiral stone staircase for what felt like an hour. Kate thought they must be at the center of the mountain or a mile below the monastery by now. Milo skipped down the stairs, carrying the lantern like a kid carrying a candy bag on Halloween night, never tiring, never stopping to rest. Kate’s legs burned. She hadn’t yet recovered from yesterday’s exertion. She dreaded the return trip up the stairs.

Up ahead, Milo had stopped again, waiting for her, but this time he stood on level ground — a large round opening at the base of the stairs. Finally. He stepped back and held the lantern out, illuminating a wooden tombstone-shaped door with a rounded top.

Kate waited for a moment, wondering if he was simply waiting on her again.

“Please go in, Dr. Kate. He’s waiting on you.”

Kate nodded and opened the door, revealing a cramped circular room. The walls were covered in maps and shelves that held glass bottles, figurines, and metal artifacts. The room was… medieval, like the ancient lab in the tower of a castle where someone with a name like Merlin or Archimedes might work. And there was a sorcerer in the room, or at least he looked like one. An old man sat at a shabby wooden desk, reading. He turned his neck slowly as if it pained him. He was Asian; his hair was long since gone, and his face was more wrinkled than any Kate had ever seen. He must have been more than 100 years old.

“Dr. Warner.” His voice was a whisper. He stood and ambled toward Kate, leaning heavily on his wooden cane.

“Mister…”

“There are no misters here, my dear girl.” He paused. Walking and talking were too taxing for him. He stared patiently at the stone floor while he gathered his breath. “Call me Qian. I have something for you. Something I’ve waited 75 years to give you. But first, I have something to show you. Could you help me with the door?” He motioned to a small wooden door Kate hadn’t seen before. It was no more than four feet tall. Kate opened the door and was relieved to see that the passage beyond was taller than the doorway. She waited at the door as Qian paced past her, stopping every few feet. How long had it taken him to get down here?

Kate looked into the corridor and was surprised to find that it was illuminated by modern LED lights. And it was short — no more than fifteen feet long. It seemed to dead end into a stone wall. It took Qian several minutes to reach the door, and when he did, he gestured toward a wooden button on the wall.

Kate pressed the button, and the stone wall began to rise up, like a false wall in an Indiana Jones movie. Kate felt air blowing past her feet, rushing into the room. It must have been sealed.

She followed Qian into the room, which was square, approximately forty feet by forty feet. It was empty except for a large rug laying in the center of the room, which must have been at least thirty feet by thirty feet. Kate glanced to the ceiling and saw a thin linen cloth that covered the entire area of the room. Above the cloth, she could see another identical cloth, and beyond that, another as far as she could see, like layers of mosquito net reaching to the top of the mountain. A method to wick away moisture? Possibly, but Kate saw something else — tiny pieces of dirt and rock, caught in the cloth.

Qian nodded toward the rug. “This is the treasure we protect here. Our heritage. We have paid a dear price for it.” He cleared his throat and continued speaking slowly. “When I was young, men came to my village. They wore military uniforms. I didn’t know it at the time, but they were Nazi uniforms. These men sought a group of monks who lived in the mountains beyond my village. No one would talk about these monks. I didn’t know any better. The men paid me and some other children to take them there. The monks were not afraid of these men, but they should have been. The men who had been kind in our village turned ruthless in the mountains. They searched the monastery, tortured the men, and finally set fire to the mountain.”

Qian paused again, gathering his breath. “My friends were dead, and they were searching the monastery for me. And then they found me. One of the soldiers took me in his arms and carried me through the monastery into a tunnel. Three monks were waiting there. The man told them that I was the only survivor. He handed me a journal and said that I had to keep it safe until the time was right. The three monks left that night with only the clothes on their backs and this tapestry.” Qian settled his gaze on the massive work of art — some sort of biblical story with gods, heroes, monsters, heavens, light, blood, fire, and water.

Kate stood silently. In the back of her mind, she wondered what this had to do with her. She suppressed the urge to say, “Looks great, now can I use your computer?”

“And now you are wondering what this has to do with you.”

Kate blushed and tossed her head to the side. “No, I mean, it’s beautiful…” And it was. The colors were bold, as vivid as any fresco in a Catholic church, and the threads added depth to the depictions. “But, the man I came here with — he and I are in danger.”