The Atlantis Plague(120)
Janus activated the cube, flooding the area with blinding light. He adjusted it, turning it higher.
The men collapsed, and he heard more bodies hit the stone floor inside the room.
He stepped across the threshold and surveyed the scene. Perhaps six heavily armed European soldiers and someone else—an adolescent Asian wearing a ceremonial robe.
Janus stepped to the Ark and peered down.
There he was. The first. They had kept him. Told his story. After all these years. They were a remarkable species. They had exceeded all his expectations. It still didn’t change what had to be done. He told himself that he had no choice.
He took hold of the alpha’s femur bone, lifted it, and swung it violently against the wall of the stone box.
A small metallic chip fell out, then disappeared under the rain of gray dust that covered it.
Janus brushed it aside, then reached in, searching for the chip.
It had taken months to find it. It was the last piece. When it was gone…
He held it up to the light, glancing at the technology he and his partner had embedded almost seventy thousand years ago. The small radiation beacon had enabled them to make changes to the human genome for tens of thousands of years. Each time they programmed a new radiation regimen, it altered the genome of humans within the beacon’s range, adjusting the course of humanity. The device was old now, and its power source was almost spent, reducing its range considerably. Janus had wondered if he could find it. But in the face of the current plague, it had performed as planned, running its emergency program, activating the Atlantis Gene, saving those who flocked to be near it. It was a shame so many had to die for Janus to find it. But without the device, nothing stood in the way of the final genetic transformation he had already unleashed. He tossed the chip into the box and crushed it.
Behind him, he heard footsteps stop abruptly. Janus turned to find David Vale standing in the opening of the chamber, holding one of the primitive weapons that shot hardened elemental projectiles.
Janus reached for the quantum cube.
“Don’t, Janus. I swear to God, I will shoot you.”
“Now, Mr. Vale. That’s no way to treat someone who saved your life.”
CHAPTER 88
CDC
Atlanta, Georgia
Paul Brenner walked to the Symphony control room. The feeling around the room was jubilation. Two flashing words on the center screen read:
ONE RESULT
They had a new gene therapy for the Atlantis Plague. A new hope.
“Do it,” Paul said. “Deploy it across all the districts. Upload the data to all our affiliates.”
He raced down the hall and burst into his nephew’s hospital room.
The boy lay still. He didn’t turn to face Paul. He was only semi-conscious.
But there was still time, Paul thought.
At the lobby that led to the Catacombs of St. Paul, Kate Warner leaned back from the table, wondering what else she could do.
The figure that flew out of the tunnel was a blur. Kate spun, but it was too fast. It bowled Kamau out of the chair. The assault rifle clanged to the ground as the two figures rolled across the floor, into one of the museum’s glass display cases. Kamau struck the figure, but Kate could see that he was disoriented, blind, bewildered. He would never make it.
Kate staggered forward and raised the handgun.
They writhed violently on the ground. Kate tried to get a lock on the other figure. Some part of her knew it was Shaw, but she didn’t want it to be true. She’d suffered betrayal by someone she’d trusted once before; she’d sworn she wouldn’t let that happen again. Shaw had saved her in Marbella. But…
The figure rose from Kamau, a knife in his hand. Blood flowed out onto the white marble floor. Kamau twitched a few times, then came to rest.
The figure turned to face Kate.
Shaw.
Kate squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.
The gun felt like a solid block of steel. Why didn’t it fire? She glanced at it, but Shaw was upon her. He snatched the gun out of her hand.
“It’s not in you, Kate. Be glad of that. The safety saved you more than it did me.”
The door across the lobby opened. Dorian Sloane strolled through it. The four men that followed him ran in, taking up positions around the lobby, two flanking the entrance to the tunnel.
“Where the hell have you been?” Shaw demanded.
“Relax,” Dorian said casually. “Car trouble.” He scanned the room. “Vale?”
“In the tunnels,” Shaw said.
Dorian nodded to the soldiers flanking the entrance.
“No,” Shaw said. “There’s only one way out.” He took a small box from his pocket and clicked a button. Eruptions echoed from the tunnels, like rolling thunder growing closer. He looked up at Dorian. “Make that no way out.”