The corridor opened onto another round room, where they found six more people. They conversed hurriedly, and the new group joined Kate and Martin’s band, and they set off again.
Kate wondered how they would deal with the dogs and soldiers. Her gun was in the pack and, almost against her will, she considered reaching back for it. But before she could make a move, the tunnel ended in a large cavernous room, this one square with a high ceiling. There was no exit.
Two dozen people stood inside. Every head turned as Kate and Martin’s group entered.
Behind her, Kate heard the fat man shouting something. She turned. He was speaking into a handheld radio. What—
The far wall exploded, sending dirt, debris, and an invisible wave of force into the room. Kate felt herself hit the floor of the tunnel. Light flooded the room as the dust settled. She could see Immari soldiers pouring in through the breach. They dragged people out of the shattered stone room. The fat man and the woman and a half dozen others were helping them.
The bright light and ringing in Kate’s ears were disorienting. Her head swam, and she thought she would throw up.
Kate saw one of the soldiers pocket Martin’s gun from the ground, then hoist him up and carry him out. Then a soldier had Kate. She struggled, but it was no use. They had her. They had them all.
CHAPTER 26
Dorian opened his eyes and gazed through the wide pane of glass. He wasn’t in a tube—not the kind he had awoken in before. Where am I? Am I dead, really dead this time? He had to be. The guard had shot him in the head, back in the Immari base. He looked down. He wore a uniform—the same uniform the Atlantean had worn. The scene came into focus. The large window looked out into space. A blue and green planet filled the lower half of the window. Massive machines crawled across the surface, turning dirt and sending plumes of red dust into the atmosphere. No, it was more than dirt—the machines were moving mountains.
“The geological survey is in, General Ares. The tectonic plates in the northern hemisphere won’t be a problem for four thousand years. Should we leave them?”
Dorian turned to look at the man. He stood next to Dorian on what must have been the observation deck of a space ship. Dorian heard himself speak. “No. They may not be able to fix them in four thousand years. Make accommodations now.” He turned back to the window and the planet again. In the reflection of the glass, he saw himself, but the man who stared back wasn’t Dorian; it was the Atlantean—a younger version. He had a full head of white-golden hair, pulled back flat against his head.
The glass disappeared and the air and gravity changed. A bomb exploded in the distance, and Dorian realized he was in a large city. It wasn’t any city on Earth, he knew that instantly. Every building seemed to have a unique shape. They sparkled as if they had been created yesterday from some material he had never seen. They were connected by catwalks that crisscrossed the city like a spider web joining the sparkling crystals of a geode. Then one of the buildings collapsed and the skybridges connecting it to neighboring buildings tore free, like arms releasing, following a falling body. Another blast went off and another building fell.
The soldier beside Dorian cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “Should we begin, sir?”
“No. Let it go for a while. Let’s show the world the type of people we’re fighting.”
Another blast went off, and the horizon faded to black as the clarity of space again came into focus. Now Dorian stood on a different observation deck—on a planet. No, a moon. He could see the planet on his right, but the view of space was far more impressive. A fleet of ships reached to the burning white star beyond. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The sight of the full fleet took his breath away. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end. A single thought dominated his mind: I have won.
Dorian tried to focus his vision, but the image slipped away, and he was somewhere else, on a planet again, walking down a long concrete path towards a giant monolithic structure. He walked alone, but crowds lined the path on each side, many elbowing and jostling to get a look at him. A woman and two men waited at the base of the stone monument just outside the dark opening. Dorian couldn’t quite read the inscription engraved above the entrance, but somehow he already knew what it said: “Here lies our last soldier.”
The woman stepped forward and spoke. “We have decided. You will walk the long road of eternity.”
Dorian knew the woman was playing for the camera, uttering the words for the historical record. She had betrayed him. “Every man deserves the right to die.”
“Legends never die.”