Home > The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery #1)(93)

The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery #1)(93)
Author: A.G. Riddle

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure yet. I need transport.”

“Destination?”

“Gibraltar.”

“Gibraltar?” Keegan sounded confused.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s the best news I’ve heard. I’m actually in Gibraltar now — the last of the agents and I are planning a counterstrike on the Immari Headquarters here. The clerk can arrange transport for you, but before you go, there’s… something else I need to tell you, David. Something I want you to know, just in case you don’t make it here or… if, I’m not here when you arrive. You weren’t the only one investigating Immari. Unraveling their conspiracy has been my life’s work, but when I ran out of time… I knew you were my best shot at stopping them. I was your source. I used all my contacts within Immari to help you, but it wasn’t enough. The tactical mistakes are mine alone—”

“Are in the past. We have new information, possibly something we can use. This is not over. I’ll see you in Gibraltar.”

CHAPTER 102

Immari Research Base Prism

East Antarctica

Dorian had to hand it to Martin Grey: the man was technically competent. The research site in Antarctica was breathtaking. For the last thirty minutes, Martin had walked Dorian through each section of the giant centipede-esque mobile laboratory: the primate lab, with its two dead carcases, the drill control center, the staff barracks, the conference rooms, and the main control center, where they sat now.

“We’re out in the open here, Dorian. We should take precautions. There are several research stations here on Antarctica. Any one of them could stumble across us—”

“And do what?” Dorian said. “Who are they going to call?”

“The nations that fund them for one—”

“Those nations will soon be consumed with the outbreak. Unauthorized research on some ice cube at the end of the world won’t be on their radar, trust me. Let’s stop wasting time and get down to business. Tell me what you found at the sub site.”

“About what we expected.”

“Him?”

“No. General Kane,” Martin seemed to wince as he said the word. “wasn’t among the bodies we iden—”

“Then he’s inside.” Dorian’s hope betrayed his usually stoic exterior.

“Not necessarily. There are other possibilities.”

“Doubtfu—”

Martin pressed on. “He could have been killed during the raid in Tibet. Or en-route. It was a long journey. Or—”

“He’s inside. I know it.”

“If so, it raises several questions. Specifically, why he hasn’t exited. And why we haven’t heard from him. And there’s the reality of the timeline. Kane left for Antarctica in 1938. 75 years ago. If he is inside, he would be over 120 years old. Long dead.”

“Maybe he did try to communicate with us. Roswell. A warning.”

Martin thought it over. “Interesting. Even so, your obsession with Kane, with finding him, puts us all in danger. You need a clear head if you’re to lead this operation—”

“My head is clear, Martin.” Dorian stood. “I admit I’m obsessed with finding Konrad Kane, but you would be too if your father had gone missing.”

CHAPTER 103

Robert Hunt left the snowmobile running. He dismounted and walked into the small rock overhang where he’d left the two men. They were gone. But one snowmobile was there. Had they gone on to the site? Reported him? Had they followed him, backtracking to the last site? That would be as good as reporting him.

He ran out, into the open field of ice, withdrew his binoculars, and scanned the distance in every direction, twirling like a ballerina with his elbows pointed out.

Nothing.

He walked back to the cave. It was cold inside. Deathly cold. He tried to turn the stranded snowmobile on, but it was out of gas. How? Had they followed him and barely made it back? No — the tracks were old. They had run it here in the cave. Why? To keep warm? Yes, probably. They had waited as long as they could, until it sputtered out and the warmth receded. Then they had climbed on the last snowmobile and left together. But where had they gone?

CHAPTER 104

Immari Research Base Prism

East Antarctica

“I beg you not to do this, Dorian.” Martin stepped in front of the door and spread his arms.

“Be reasonable, Martin. You know the time has come.”

“We don’t know that—”

“What we do know is that a huge chunk of their city has broken off. And that one of their Bells was activated almost 75 years ago — we have the bodies from the sub as proof. You want to take the risk? We both know they’ll come out of hibernation soon, if they haven’t already. We don’t have time to research and debate. If they march out of there, the human race is finished.”

“You assume—”

“I know it. You know it. We’ve seen what the Bell can do. And that’s just the porch light over the stoop — the doorway to the type of cities we won’t be capable of building for thousands of years, assuming we’re even capable of inventing technology on their scale. Imagine what weapons they have in there. The Bell is simply a bug-zapper to keep the beasts from disturbing their rest. They don’t want anyone inside there for a reason. I’m ensuring our survival. This is the only way.”

“An act of this magnitude, based upon so much conjecture—”

“Great leaders are forged from the fire of hard decisions,” Dorian said. “Now stand aside.”

Inside the cell, Dorian knelt down to look the two Indonesian children in the face. They sat on a white bench, just outside the primate lab. Their feet dangled a few inches above the ground.

“I bet you two are glad to be out of those suits, aren’t you?”

The boys just stared at him.

“My name is Dorian Sloane. What are your names?”

The boys’ eyes were a blank stare that drifted slowly from Dorian to the floor.

“That’s ok, we don’t need names to play this game. The name game is boring anyway. We’re going to play a better game, a very fun game. Have you ever played hide and seek? It was my favorite game as a child. I was very good at it.” He turned to his assistant. “Get the packs from Dr. Chase.”

Dorian fixed the boys with a stare. “We’re going to put you inside a maze, a giant maze. Your job is to find a certain room.” Dorian held out a picture. “You see this? This is a room with a lot of glass tubes in it. Tubes big enough to hold a man! Can you believe it? If you can find this room, and hide in it, you’re going to win the prize.” Dorian laid the glossy printout on their laps. It was a computer rendering — an extrapolation of what the Immari thought a large tube room might look like.

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