Part 30 (1/2)

”After you,” said Cartier.

We descended into the cement-floored tunnel. We followed the same route, down pa.s.sages lit with strings of bulbs on the ceiling, down more ladders, until finally we were back in the Atlantean map room. It looked like it had before, except for the other Nomad body being gone. The table of hand-drawn maps was still there, and Leech's black cylinder case was now lying on top of it.

They marched us down the spiral staircase. As we crossed the catwalk at its base, I glanced down at the little Atlantean craft, lying on its dry stone floor. No water or wind for starting it. I glanced up at the black sphere and pedestal suspended above, that strange umbrella of copper beneath it, and then all the way up to the marble ball in the ceiling, trying to figure out what it all meant.

Hands pushed me in the back. ”Keep moving.”

They'd strung lights around the dark walls, and through the narrow zigzagging pa.s.sage. A thick tangle of power cords snaked along the floor. We squeezed through, back into the tiny skull chamber.

”Well, there he is.”

The light in the chamber was blinding, white coating the walls. There was a steady electric buzz, and snapping sounds of sparks. I couldn't see the skull because it was on the other side of a silhouetted figure who eclipsed its light.

Paul stood to the right of the pedestal, wearing welding goggles to s.h.i.+eld his eyes, gazing at the skull. The silhouetted figure was short, leaning forward, an officer on either side holding his arms.

”Okay, he's done.” Paul motioned to the two officers. They started pulling on the figure's arms, and it seemed to take a great effort, but then they had Leech free, and as they turned him to the side, we saw that they'd been holding his hands to the skull. ”Nnnnaa!” he shouted. His face was wrenched in a knot, eyes closed, teeth bared. A shorter man in a white lab coat, also wearing goggles, appeared in front of Leech and held a square device up to his forehead like Dr. Maria had. The little gla.s.s ball glowed a greenish yellow, like a color in between how it had glowed for me, and for Colleen.

”Give him a breather,” said Paul, waving his hand toward a cot against the back wall.

Leech slumped weakly in the officers' arms. There were electrodes stuck to his head in shaved spots, like there'd been for the CITs. Wires were attached to the crystal skull, too. Its hollow eyes gleamed at me, but I watched Leech as they laid him down on a cot behind the pedestal. Machines there were monitoring his vitals. His arms were twitching, his legs too, and for the first time, I felt something like bad for him. Leech, the camp favorite, the bully, who'd been controlling us all with nicknames and jokes, when all along he was being controlled.

”Well, Owen...” Paul turned around, lifting his goggles as he did.

For the first time I saw his eyes, finally saw what had been behind his tinted gla.s.ses, and regretted ever wanting to know.

They were seared, scalded, the whites a sickly blood crimson, threaded with black-burned veins. Except the irises were blue, an electric blazing blue, and I could see crisscrossing lines in them, geometric patterns, with little sparks of light flas.h.i.+ng, and I realized his eyes were fake, circuitry, and his pupils were gla.s.s camera-lens holes. He must have seen my reaction, because he smiled. His pupils whirred open wider, the machines adjusting their focus. And while I'd found his smile strange with his gla.s.ses on, with them off, it was something soulless and cold that I felt sure would live on in my nightmares, if we ever made it out of this.

”Yes,” he said, waving a hand toward his face. ”This is what happens when you stare into the face of the G.o.ds. Or, in my case, a Sentinel created by the Atlanteans to alert their chosen children. Luckily there's a doctor in EdenEast who makes excellent eyes. They even have direct holotech input, if I cared for such things. But I don't. My eyes are for truth only. And you, Owen, you are truth.”

The eyes burned into me, sparks flickering. He motioned to the skull. ”And this is yours, I take it?”

I didn't answer him.

”That's okay. I already know that it is. And knowing that, I feel an apology is in order. I should have come right out and told you what I suspected about you from the moment I saw your DNA sample, but... just like with the others”-he waved dismissively at Lilly-”I thought I'd let the truth reveal itself.”

”Why couldn't you just tell us?” asked Lilly bitterly.

Paul sighed. ”I could could have, but think it through: You're probably smart enough to have figured out at this point that we're using Camp Eden to find the Atlanteans. But what would have happened if I'd sat everyone down at the start of the session and announced that we were looking for the genetic descendants of an ancient race, and that everyone had been selected based on their potential match, and that we expected those who were top candidates to exhibit odd symptoms? We would have had kids drowning themselves, making fake gills, and who knows what else. And for you, Owen, for the true Atlantean, it's such an enormous concept, such a huge change, that I thought you had to discover it on your own, organically. But, either way, you know now, so we can move forward. And I feel like a proud parent, seeing you all come this far.” have, but think it through: You're probably smart enough to have figured out at this point that we're using Camp Eden to find the Atlanteans. But what would have happened if I'd sat everyone down at the start of the session and announced that we were looking for the genetic descendants of an ancient race, and that everyone had been selected based on their potential match, and that we expected those who were top candidates to exhibit odd symptoms? We would have had kids drowning themselves, making fake gills, and who knows what else. And for you, Owen, for the true Atlantean, it's such an enormous concept, such a huge change, that I thought you had to discover it on your own, organically. But, either way, you know now, so we can move forward. And I feel like a proud parent, seeing you all come this far.”

Lilly made a hissing sound.

”Now, now,” said Paul. ”Anyway, the timing is perfect. I was running into a wall with Carey.” He motioned toward Leech, who was lying still on the cot. ”He was the very first one to have the symptomatic gills, all the way back when this place was still Camp Aasgard. It was his condition that brought my team here. And when I saw his drawings, that's when I knew we were close. We Cryoed Carey while we established the dome here, and excavated the navigation room.” Paul motioned to the ceiling. ”When we brought Carey down, that room really ignited his powers, and since then, he's been making all these maps. I thought it was that obsidian star chart that was activating him, but all along it was this skull, hiding beneath my feet. Your Your skull. Which means there's one out there for him somewhere, I gather.” skull. Which means there's one out there for him somewhere, I gather.”

I didn't respond.

Paul glanced at the skull again. ”Just amazing. It makes sense, now. You know, my father was the one who found the first Atlantean city, up in Greenland. It had been covered in glacial ice since about ten thousand years ago, after a sudden and cataclysmic natural event that changed the entire earth. The crust of the earth moved; there were ma.s.sive tsunamis, floods-I mean literally the ones that ancient myths speak of-and the world was plunged back into an ice age until, well, technically just a few hundred years ago.

”My father's team of climatologists was drilling the Greenland ice sheet for ice cores, trying to understand past climate changes, trying to find a way to stop the Great Rise. I was thirteen at the time, traveling with them. The ice sheet had already receded farther than any modern human had ever seen, and then one day, there was a ma.s.sive glacial calving in one of the fjords, and there it was, this ancient city. It was made from the same stone as the great Pyramids, and yet it was thousands of miles north. And as if that wasn't amazing enough, there was all that we found inside once we'd tunneled through the ice, including a temple not unlike this one, only larger.

”There were three tombs inside,” Paul went on. ”Three young bodies, well preserved in the ice, their throats slit. And there was a message inscribed in the rock that my father translated. It took him months, sitting in a tent up there, running the symbols through ancient Sumerian, cross-referencing them with the earliest Mesoamerican codices. It said: ”'Before the beginning, there was an end.'”

I finished for him, ”'Three chosen to die, to live in the service of the Qi-An, the balance of all things.'”

Paul's eyes clicked wider, the circuits flaring. ”You know it.” His mouth fell open almost like he was hungry. He rubbed his palms and sighed. ”And you know about the city?”

I nodded. ”I've seen it.”

He sighed. ”I can't imagine what it must be like for you. To be connected, to be the conduit to the ancients. To know that power. power. I mean, for almost forty years I've been studying this temple and the others we've found, translating texts and unpuzzling megalithic structures. I probably know the Atlanteans better than anyone else, even better than my father did. But you...” Paul's voice lowered almost to a growl. His mouth moved and I almost expected to see him lick his lips, a predator stalking its juiciest prey. ”You I mean, for almost forty years I've been studying this temple and the others we've found, translating texts and unpuzzling megalithic structures. I probably know the Atlanteans better than anyone else, even better than my father did. But you...” Paul's voice lowered almost to a growl. His mouth moved and I almost expected to see him lick his lips, a predator stalking its juiciest prey. ”You are are the one. the one. You've You've been on the inside looking out, haven't you? You've seen their world. And now, Owen, I need you to tell me everything. You'll do that, won't you?” been on the inside looking out, haven't you? You've seen their world. And now, Owen, I need you to tell me everything. You'll do that, won't you?”

I didn't answer him.

”I mean, the skull just will not talk to anyone else. Believe me, I've tried.”

”I know,” I said, thinking of the CITs strapped to those tables. ”I saw.”

”Ah yes,” said Paul, ”because you were in the lab. And so now we both know that this skull is only for you, am I right?”

Hearing him, I realized that maybe there was a chance here.... ”Yeah, only me. I'm the only one.”

”Yes,” said Paul, like this was exciting him to his core. ”And has it told you where to find it?”

”Find what?”

”The Brocha,” said Paul.

I tried to remember if Luk had mentioned that, but I was pretty sure he hadn't.

”Ah, so your skull didn't tell you about that,” said Paul. ”I'm talking about the Brocha de Dioses. Well, that's what we we call it. It's Spanish, from a priest's translation of an ancient Mayan codex. I'm sure the Atlanteans would have a different name for it.” call it. It's Spanish, from a priest's translation of an ancient Mayan codex. I'm sure the Atlanteans would have a different name for it.”

”What is it?” I asked.

”Well... that's the mystery,” said Paul, ”the big one. Brocha de Dioses means Paintbrush of the G.o.ds. That was the priest's translation anyway. It's been very hard to piece together, but we believe it's a machine, an ancient machine, one that could, well, save us all. And it's located in the Heart of the Terra.”

Luk had talked about that. And, listening to this, I remembered what he'd said: Someone has found our sin, and seeks to use it. Someone has found our sin, and seeks to use it. Maybe Maybe this this was what I was being called to defend. To protect this Paintbrush of the G.o.ds from Paul and Project Elysium. was what I was being called to defend. To protect this Paintbrush of the G.o.ds from Paul and Project Elysium.

”What do you mean, save us?” I asked.

”It's fascinating, really,” said Paul, and it sounded like he really was fascinated, ”and we can get into it more once we start the journey, but the Atlanteans found a way to control the forces of the earth, to literally change it to suit their needs. Their civilization was global and very advanced, in some ways not quite to the level of ours, but in others vastly superior.

”About ten thousand years ago, they were facing a climate change event, something like the Great Rise, which isn't that uncommon if you look over a long enough record of history. But the Atlanteans were the first living creatures on earth with the intelligence to do something about it. They were facing a dramatic warming period, and, also like us, these were a people who lived primarily on the coasts, since they were master seafarers.”

I realized that this was the first thing I knew that he didn't. Paul didn't know about the airs.h.i.+ps. He probably thought that craft here in the temple was a boat. Which meant he didn't know exactly what I was meant for, either.

”They were watching their cities submerge,” Paul continued. ”So, to save themselves, they fought back. They created this Paintbrush of the G.o.ds, and they used it.”

”But it didn't work,” I added, remembering the ash-filled sky in Luk's world.

Paul smiled, like I was his star pupil. I couldn't help being interested in what he was saying, in the story of my people, and there was something intriguing about all this knowledge that Paul had. How much more could he teach me? But then I looked over at Leech. He was still out cold, his face pained even in unconsciousness, and I had to remind myself that he was Paul's last star student.

”It might be more accurate to say that it worked too well,” said Paul. ”Based on the evidence we've found, the Paintbrush of the G.o.ds caused a cataclysm so great that it became the basis for all those flood myths around the world.