The Atlantis World (The Origin Mystery, Book 3) (26 page)

Ares ignored his hunger. The desire to quench it never rose inside him.

He watched a small group of Serpentine ships prowl the wreckage. Were they searching for Atlantean survivors to assimilate? Or their own kind, now converted Atlanteans? What had Myra called them? The ring. Thinking of her, what they had done to her and his unborn child made Ares ache, reminded him that not all feeling had left. He glanced away from the Serpentine ships, refusing to watch.

Ares had thought all the sentinels were gone, but he realized one was hovering close to his ship, seeming to stare at him, reading his soul.

Ares stared back with no emotion, only a single thought,
Do it
.

A slot in the sphere opened, and it moved forward, swallowing Ares’ ship.

The darkness was complete. Ares floated in his EVA suit. There was only a vague curiosity about his fate.

The light that breached the darkness was blinding. Ares raised his arm to cover his eyes. The shard of the lander that held him floated free as the sphere backed away.

Ares’ eyes adjusted a little, and through the ship’s cockpit window, he could just make out a fleet of sentinel spheres, but it was the enormous ship that took his breath away. Three distant stars shone enough light for him to make out its shape but not its features. It was elongated, and Ares wondered if it was the control ship for the sentinels or perhaps a carrier or factory.

Several small spheres attached to his derelict ship and ushered him toward the waiting super ship. A bay opened, and the sentinels deposited his ship inside.

When the bay door closed, the rush of artificial gravity threw Ares into the ship’s floor. For a moment, he thought the impact would knock him out, but the EVA suit had cushioned the blow.

He pushed up and wandered out of the ship, into the vast, empty chamber. It was illuminated, and the artificial gravity seemed to be Atlantean standard, which Ares found to be a bizarre, slightly unnerving coincidence. His EVA suit told him the air was breathable, but he decided not to remove the suit.

Double doors opened at the end of the bay, and Ares exited into a corridor that was narrow, with gray-metallic walls, and beady lights at the floor and ceiling.

He hesitated for a moment, not sure whether to push forward or retreat back to his ship. Curiosity got the better of him. He wandered deeper into the corridor, which ended in a large intersection where two other corridors split off to the left and right, and a set of large double doors stood dead ahead. The doors opened, revealing a cavern in the interior of the ship, much larger than the bay his ship had landed in.

Ares proceeded slowly, half-wondering if he were wading deeper into some trap. The contents of the chamber puzzled him. Glass tubes, row after row, stacked from the floor into the darkness above and as far as he could see into the chamber. Each tube looked large enough to hold a single Atlantean.

“You can remove your suit.”

Ares turned, getting his first look at his captor.

C
HAPTER
36

Ares glanced from his captor to the endless rows of glass tubes. The man, or at least Ares thought he was a man, stood at the entrance of the chamber, just inside the double doors, the glow of the lights from the corridor forming a halo behind him.

“What is this?” Ares asked, not daring to remove his suit.

“You already know.”

Ares glanced back at the tubes.
Stasis chambers. For deep space travel. A colony ship?

“Yes.”

Ares stepped backwards involuntarily.
It can read my thoughts
.

“Yes, it can. Your body emits radiation this vessel can read, allowing me to see it as an organized data feed.”

“What are you?”

“I’m the same as you, except I’ve been dead for millions of years.”

Ares tried to organize his thoughts. He said the first question that popped into his head. “You’re not… here? Not alive?”

“No. What you see is my avatar, a reflection of what I used to be. My race has been extinct for a long time. All that remains of us is the Serpentine Army.”

“You’re one of them?”

“No. I never was. I am merely one of the ones they slaughtered in their march across time. Long ago, my world made a great mistake. We sought the ultimate answer, the truth about our origins and the destiny of the universe. We chose the wrong tools to find it: science and technology. Methods beyond your comprehension. In our pursuit for the ultimate knowledge, the technologies we created eventually enslaved us, taking the last of our humanity before we even knew it was slipping away. Our civilization fractured. Those who resisted were assimilated. The Serpentine Army is what’s left. The members call themselves the ring. They believe that they are the fate of this universe and the beginning of a new one, a ring that runs through space and time.

“They believe their ring will one day circle all human worlds, binding every last human life, and in doing so, harness a force they call the origin entity, enabling them to create a new universe, with new laws, where they can never be destroyed.”

Ares exhaled and pulled his suit off. He was in way over his head, and he figured if this ghost of humanity’s past wanted him dead, he wouldn’t even be here.

“What do you want from me?” Ares said flatly.

“Salvation. An opportunity to right the wrong my people are committing against yours right now.”

A holographic image rose in the dark space between them. Ares’ homeworld hung there, a ring of black ships forming a portal before it. A thick rope of Serpentine ships poured out. The end of the rope frayed, spraying ships onto the surface like dark tear drops falling on Ares’ world.

Thousands of sentinel ships fought the serpent, but just as they had at the Serpentine battlefield, they were losing. The Atlantean homeworld was falling.

“In our final days, when we realized our folly, we created what you call the sentinels, hoping to save the other human worlds from our mistake. As you’ve seen, the sentinels are greatly outmatched in the Serpentine war. As a last resort, we shifted our strategy to hiding the human worlds.”

“The sentinel line.”

“Yes. It forms a barrier, a sort of beacon network that cloaks your space, preventing the Serpentine Army from seeing worlds that harbor human life. The line also prevents hyperspace tunnels from crossing it.”

Comprehension dawned on Ares. “I created a hole in the sentinel line that allowed the Serpentine Army to come through.”

“Yes. But that is the way of the cycle.”

Anger rose within Ares. “You could have warned us.”

“We’ve tried that. Many times, for many years. Warnings of disaster are far less effective than memories of disaster.”

“Memories?”

The avatar walked to the tubes. “You will take this ark to your world. The radiation that transmits your thoughts can also be used to transmit a cellular blueprint of your bodies. The sentinel fleet surrounding this ship will get you into orbit. The Serpentine virus, the biological technology they use to assimilate human life has one limitation: the subject must submit. Their techniques are overwhelming, but in large populations, a few brave souls can resist. Those who will not submit, the serpent slaughters. This ship will capture their radiation signatures, resurrecting them. They will be your people. You will rebuild your civilization upon them. They will have seen the Serpentine horror. They will know the danger. You must see the darkness to appreciate the light.”

In the resurrection ark’s bridge, Ares watched the blue and white waves of hyperspace dissolve, and his world take form on the screen.

The ship shook as it took fire. The Serpentine siege of Ares’ world was nearly complete. Large dark ships covered large swaths of every continent. The sentinels battled them, but they were slowly losing.

Ares watched the ark push through the immense battlefield, taking fire, but never returning it. Each time a phalanx of Serpentine ships broke through the sentinel battle line, more spherical ships appeared, repelling it.

The avatar led Ares out of the bridge, back into the chamber, and they both stood silently as the tubes filled with Atlanteans.

The turbulence grew by the second, and finally, the figure turned to Ares. “It’s time.”

Ares stepped into the closest tube, and the fog slowly consumed him. His people’s exodus would be complete soon, and they would land at their new home. The avatar had told him that the ship dilated time as well. The passage here would be nothing compared to the time outside.

Finally, the avatar returned, and the tube opened. Ares stepped out and followed him back to the bridge. The viewscreen showed an untouched world, green, blue, and white.

“What if the serpent finds us?”

“We’ve established a new sentinel line and placed a beacon in orbit around this world. It will shroud you. But there’s no guarantee. We’re at the end of what we can give you. We’ve shown you the danger, and we have saved you. I can offer you one last gift: the human code. It will ensure you don’t repeat our mistake.”

The avatar talked at length, sharing his people’s philosophy, a blueprint for a peaceful existence. “A simple life according to the code is all we ask in return for saving the last of your people. There are many human worlds within the new sentinel line, all less developed than yours. Someday they too will venture out, seeking answers, disturbing the new sentinel line. Your people can bear witness to the danger beyond, saving countless lives on countless worlds. Spread the human code, and you can all live here in safety. It is the key to your shared survival.”

Ares thought of his last moments with his wife, what they had done to her, and of his world, the black ships covering it, the slaughter of billions. He tried but failed to calm the rage inside him. “The beast you created massacres my people, and you make demands?”

“We offer guidance, a path to serenity and peace. An opportunity to prevent others from repeating your mistake, from suffering the same fate.”

Ares focused on the small group of sentinels that floated next to the ark.

We’re not going to hide and pray and try to wish away our enemy. We’re going to fight
. A second too late, he remembered that the avatar could read his thoughts.

“You contemplate your own great mistake.”

“Says the dead man who’s been watching human worlds get massacred for millions of years.”

“Your fear and hatred betray you.”

Ares ignored the avatar. A plan began to form in his mind.

The avatar stepped closer to him. “Remember our story. The technology we built enslaved us. Beware, Ares: the cost of your security could be your freedom. Possibly your survival.”

“You know what I think: you’ve been losing this war for so long, it’s all you know. And you can’t even remember what it feels like to be human—that’s the only way you would allow so many to be murdered on my world. It’s all a big math problem to you. But they were lives to me, people who mattered. We’ve had enough of your
help
. We’ll fend for ourselves now.”

“So be it, Ares.” The avatar slowly faded, a sad expression on his face.

For a long moment, Ares stood alone in the dark chamber, gazing at the endless rows of tubes that held the last of his people. They would awaken soon. They were all Ares had left, and he would ensure their survival at any cost.