David considered the offer — his own deal with the devil. Then he looked around the room, for a weapon of some kind. There was something — the wooden handle of a spear, sticking out of the wall. The wood and iron spear looked so out of place here — in a room of strange metal and glass and technology David couldn’t begin to imagine.
On the other side of the room, a hologram flickered to life, like a 3D video of some sort.
“What is—”
“We don’t know for sure,” Craig said. He walked closer to the area where the hologram was forming. “Some sort of videos, holograms, on repeat. They play every few minutes. I think they show the past, what happened here. They’re the other reason I brought you down here, to this room. They are the secrets this room holds. We think Patrick Pierce hadn’t yet uncovered them when he sent the journal in 1938. Or, this is another theory, he had found the room, but nothing worked until he came out of the tube in 1978. We’re still sorting it out, but as you’ll see, we believe he saw them at some point in the seven years after he resumed his work as Tom Warner. We don’t know what they mean yet, but he went to great lengths to keep them from us. We think they’re some kind of message.”
CHAPTER 116
Immari Research Base Prism
East Antarctica
Kate looked up at the sound of the second explosion. She tried the door again. Still locked. She thought she smelled smoke. Her mind raced through Dorian’s crazed allegations and the videos of the children walking into that massive structure… with the packs strapped to their backs.
The door swung open, and Martin Grey stepped quickly into the room. He grabbed Kate by the arm and pulled her out into the hall.
“Martin,” Kate began, but he cut her off.
“Stay quiet. We have to hurry,” Martin said as he led her down the white-walled corridor. They turned a corner, and the corridor ended in what looked like an airlock on a space station. They proceeded through the airlock and a gust rushed past them as they ventured into the large room beyond — some sort of hangar or warehouse with a high, arched ceiling. Martin squeezed her arm and led her to a stack of hard plastic crates where they knelt and waited in silence. She heard voices at the end of the room and the engines of heavy equipment — forklifts maybe.
“Stay here,” Martin said.
“Martin—”
“In a minute,” Martin whispered as he got to his feet and ran to the men.
Kate heard his footfalls stop abruptly as he reached the men. His voice rang with an authority and force Kate had never heard from her adoptive father. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Unloadin—”
“Sloane’s called for all personnel at the North Entrance.”
“What? We were told—”
“The station’s been breached. If it falls, whatever you’re doing here won’t matter. He’s called for you. You can stay here if you like. It’s your funeral.”
Kate heard more footfalls, moving toward her; then they passed her and moved out another airlock. There was just one set of footfalls now — Martin. He walked deeper into the hangar and spoke again. “He’s called for everyone—”
“Who’s going to control the site—”
“Gentlemen, why do you think I’m here?”
More footfalls, running, an airlock opening and closing, and Martin was back. “Come quickly, Kate.”
Martin marched her past rows of crates and a makeshift control station of some kind, with a bank of computers and a wall of screens. They showed a long ice corridor and the opening she had seen the children walk through.
“Please Martin, tell me what’s going on.”
Martin’s eyes were soft, sympathetic. “Get into this suit. I’ll tell you all I can in the seconds we have left.” He motioned to a white, puffy space suit hanging on the wall beside a group of lockers. Kate began slipping into the suit, and Martin looked away from her as he spoke.
“I’m so sorry, Kate. I’m the one that forced you to produce results. And when you did… I kidnapped those children. I did it because we needed them—”
“The Bell—”
“Yes, to get past the Bell, to get inside the Tombs — the structure two miles below the ice here in Antarctica. Since we began studying the Bell, we’ve known some people can resist it longer than others. They all die, but a few years ago, we identified a set of genes involved in resistance — the Atlantis Gene — we call it. The gene heavily influences brain wiring. We think it’s responsible for all sorts of advanced cognitive abilities, problem solving, advanced reasoning, language, creativity. We, Homo sapiens sapiens that is, have it; none of the other subspecies of humans have it — that we’ve found. It’s how we’re different. My theory is that the Atlanteans gave it to us around 60,000 years ago — around the time of the Toba Catastrophe. It’s what enabled us to survive. But we weren’t quite ready for it. We were still very much like our great ape cousins, acting on instinct, living in the wild. The strange thing is, we think it’s activated by a sort of neural survival sub-routine, the fight-or-flight center of the brain. That mechanism activates the Atlantis Gene — focusing the mind and body. It could be why we’re a race of thrill seekers and why we’re so prone to violence. It’s so fascinating.” Martin shook his head, trying to focus. “Anyway, we’re still trying to understand how it works. Everyone has the Atlantis Gene or at least some of the genetic components for it, but activating the gene is the problem. For some minds, geniuses, activation is more frequent. We think these genius moments, these flashes of insight and clarity are literally like a light bulb flickering on and off — the Atlantis Gene activates, and for the briefest of moments, we can use the full power of our minds. These people can activate the Atlantis Gene without the fight-or-flight circuit breaker. We began focusing our research on minds that had this sort of sustained activation. We observed activation in some minds on the autism spectrum — savants. That’s why we funded your research. It’s why Dorian was… forgiven… if you will, for his transgressions — he had steered you into an area of Immari interest. And when you succeeded, when the children showed sustained Atlantis Gene activation, I took the kids before he could find out. I created other distractions, with Clocktower, to keep him busy.”
“You were the source. You sent the information to David.”