The Atlantis Plague (The Origin Mystery 2)

The Atlantean stepped closer to Dorian. He stood in the pool of blood, but not a single drop stuck to his feet. “I know what you came here to do, Dorian.” He stared at Dorian, not blinking. “You came down here to save your father and kill your enemy—to make your world safe. You’ve just killed your only enemy down here.”

Dorian tore his gaze from the monster and scanned the room for something, anything he could use. Sensation had returned to his legs and he stood and staggered backward, away from the Atlantean, never taking his eyes off him. The Atlantean fixed Dorian with a smile, but made no effort to move.

I have to get out, Dorian thought. His mind raced. What do I need? An environmental suit. His father had worn Dorian’s suit out. Kate’s suit had been damaged, but maybe he could repair it. The suits her two mute children had worn would be too small for him, but perhaps he could use some of the material to patch Kate’s suit. He only needed protection from the cold for a few minutes—just long enough to get to the surface and order the attack.

He turned and darted down the corridor, but the doors slammed shut in front of him and all around him, sealing every exit.

The Atlantean materialized in front of Dorian. “You can go when I say you can go, Dorian.”

Dorian stared at him, a mix of defiance and shock on his face.

“What’s it going to be, Dorian? The easy way or the hard way?” He waited, and when Dorian didn’t respond, he nodded dispassionately. “So be it.”

Dorian felt the air drain from the room like a vacuum. All sound faded and a sharp punch hit him in the chest. He opened his mouth and tried in vain to suck a breath. He fell to his knees. Spots dotted his vision. The floor raced up as he fell into darkness.

CHAPTER 8

Orchid District

Marbella, Spain

Kate rolled Martin off of her and quickly inspected him, assessing his wounds. Blood flowed from a gash at the back of his head. Kate thought he probably had a mild concussion, but to her surprise, he squinted, blinked several times, and leapt up. He scanned the room, and Kate followed his gaze. The computers and most of the equipment on the table had been destroyed.

Martin stepped to a cupboard and took out a satellite phone and two handguns. He held one out to Kate.

“The Immari will try to close the camp,” Martin said as he began filling a backpack. He briefly inspected the thermos-like device from the desk, then stuffed it in the pack, along with several notebooks.

“How do you know?”

Martin continued ransacking the small room, answering her over his shoulder. “They’ve been taking islands in the Mediterranean, testing the perimeter, seeing if the Orchid Nations can or would fight them.”

“Can they?”

The building had stabilized, and Kate wanted to treat Martin’s head wound, but he was scurrying around the room too fast.

“No. The Orchid Alliance is barely hanging on. All their resources—military included—are devoted to Orchid production. Help isn’t coming. We need to get out.” He set an egg-shaped device on the table and twisted the top. It began ticking.

Kate tried to focus. Martin was destroying the office. They weren’t coming back here. She immediately thought of the spa building and the boys. “We need to get Adi and Surya.”

“Kate, we don’t have time. We’ll come back for them—with the SAS troops who are on their way.”

“I’m not leaving them. I won’t,” Kate said with a finality she knew Martin would recognize. He had adopted Kate when she was six, right after her biological father had disappeared, and Martin knew her well enough to know there would be no room for compromise.

He shook his head, a look somewhere between bewilderment and disbelief. “Fine, but you better be ready to use that.” He motioned to the gun. Then he punched the key code to exit the office, paused just long enough to let Kate come out, then keyed a code on the outside to lock the door.

The hallway was filled with smoke, and where the hallway met the kitchen, a fire raged and screams called out in the smoky space. “Is there another exit—”

“No. The decon chamber is the only way,” Martin said as he stepped in front of her. He held up his gun. “We’ll run. Shoot anyone—anyone—that tries to stop you.”

Kate glanced down at the gun, and at that moment, fear gripped her. She had never shot a gun before and she wasn’t sure she could shoot someone. Martin grabbed the gun, pulled the slide back and clicked something. “It’s not complicated. Just point and squeeze.” He turned and dashed toward the smoke- and fire-filled kitchen.

CHAPTER 9

Two Miles Below Immari Operations Base Prism

Antarctica

Dorian strained to see the blurry shape. He couldn’t take a deep breath—only a shallow, ragged breath that made him feel like he was drowning. His body hurt all over. His lungs ached when the air entered them.

The figure came into focus. The Atlantean—standing over him, watching him, waiting… for what?

Dorian tried to speak, but he couldn’t fill his lungs enough. He emitted a scratchy sound and closed his eyes. There was a little more air. He opened his eyes. “What… do you want?”

“I want what you want, Dorian. I want you to save the human race from extinction.”

Dorian squinted at him.

“We’re not what you think we are, Dorian. We would never harm you, the same way a parent would never harm their child.” He nodded. “It’s true. We created you.”

“Bullshit,” Dorian spat at him.

The Atlantean shook his head. “The human genome is far more complex than you currently know. We had a lot of trouble with your language function. Clearly we still have some work to do.”

Dorian was starting to breathe normally now, and he sat up. What did the Atlantean want? Why the charade? He clearly controlled the ship. What could he possibly need Dorian for?

The Atlantean answered him as if Dorian had spoken his thoughts aloud. “Don’t worry about what I want.” On the other side of the room, the heavy doors slid open. “Follow me.”

Dorian got to his feet and thought for a moment. What choice do I have? He can kill me anytime he wants. I’ll play this charade out, wait for an opening.

The Atlantean spoke as he led Dorian down another dimly lit gray-metal corridor. “You amaze me, Dorian. You’re intelligent, yet your hate and fear control you. I mean, think about it logically: we came here on a spaceship that employs concepts in physics your race hasn’t even discovered. You putt around this tiny planet in painted aluminum cans that burn the liquefied remains of ancient reptiles. Do you honestly think you could beat us in a fight?”