The memory was from approximately thirteen thousand years ago. Another realization struck her at that moment: she would witness the fall of Atlantis. She would see what had happened. The missed delta.
A third population alarm went off.
Population Alert: Subspecies 8470: 99% Extinction Risk.
Neanderthals. Gibraltar.
Her partner raced to a control panel and began working it with his fingers furiously. He turned to Dorian.
“You did this!”
“Did what? This is your science experiment. After all, I am merely a military adviser. Doctors, do not let me get in your way.”
Her partner glanced at Kate.
“Prioritize. Save the ones we can,” she said.
He returned to the controls, and Kate felt the ship lift up. The map traced its trajectory. It raced across Africa, barreling toward Gibraltar.
Dorian stood still as a statue, staring at her.
Her partner raced to the door, then stopped. “Are you coming?”
Kate was lost in thought. Three extinction alerts—at the same time. What did it mean?
Was Dorian eliminating all the other subspecies? Was he testing his weapon, ending the experiment? Did he have what he wanted? Had he betrayed her? Or was it something else?
Was this the work of their enemy?
Chance? Pure coincidence?
Either alternative was possible, yet remote.
Kate would know the truth soon.
Her partner’s back was to her.
Another question dominated her mind. Who was he?
She needed to see his face, needed to find out who her ally was.
She needed answers.
She tried to focus. “Yes. I’m coming.”
Dr. Paul Brenner stared at the patchwork of screens in the Orchid Ops room. Casualty rates were climbing.
Budapest Orchid District: 37% of total population confirmed dead.
Miami Orchid District: 34% of total population confirmed dead.
A countdown clock in the corner read: 1:45:08.
Less than two hours to the near extinction of the human race. Or at the very least, the next stage in human evolution.
After the Euthanasia Protocol, there would be two groups of humans left: the rapidly evolving, and the devolving. There would be two separate subspecies of humans for the first time in thousands of years. Paul knew that state would end soon, just as it had before: with a single subspecies. And it wouldn’t be the less-evolved.
The survivors would have the world to themselves, the genetically inferior cleared away.
CHAPTER 81
You’re listening to the BBC, the voice of human triumph on this, the eighty-first day of the Atlantis Plague.
This is a special news bulletin.
A cure, ladies and gentlemen.
Leaders from across the Orchid Alliance, including America, the UK, Germany, Australia, and France, have announced that they have finally found a cure for the Atlantis Plague.
The announcements couldn’t have come at a better time. The BBC has acquired classified reports and received eyewitness accounts from around the world that claim the death rate is now as high as forty percent in some Orchid Districts.
The announcements were issued in terse statements, and the heads of state have denied all requests for interviews, leaving experts and pundits to wonder about this mysterious cure—specifically, how it could seemingly be manufactured overnight.
Directors of several Orchid Districts, speaking on the condition of anonymity, have insisted that the existing Orchid production plants were already set up to manufacture the new drug, and that it will be handed out within hours.
This has been a BBC special news bulletin.
CHAPTER 82
Kate was in the decompression chamber again, wearing the suit. She turned quickly, glancing at her partner. He was also suited up.
“The drones only identified one survivor.”
One survivor. Incredible. Too… convenient. “Copy,” Kate said.
She turned. Dorian was there. He wasn’t wearing a suit. “You two go. I’ll manage the ship.”
Kate tried to read his expression. Her partner strapped the rest of his field gear on.
Dorian fled the room just as the last of the air was sucked out.
Two floating chariots issued from the walls, and she and her partner each mounted one and flew out of the lander.
The scene was breathtaking: a prehistoric settlement surrounded by stone monuments, like an outdoor amphitheater centered around a vast stone hearth that sent a blazing inferno toward the sky.
Several humans were leading the Neanderthal to the communal fire, but they released him and backed away as the chariots approached.
Her partner grabbed the Neanderthal, injected him with a sedative, and threw him across his chariot. They turned and raced back to the ship.
“I don’t trust him,” her partner said on a private channel.
I don’t either, Kate thought. But she held her tongue. If Dorian had betrayed them, set this up, it was partly her fault. She had done the research he needed.