“What is it?”

“A tomb—you were right about that. But it is much more. It is a resurrection ship. On our world, every person is allowed a life of a hundred years. There are exceptions, such as for deep-space explorers such as myself. We have mastered medical science, but accidents happen. In those events, our citizens resurrect in these vessels.”

“That’s what they are?” David asked. “Dead Atlanteans?”

“Yes. Massacred when our home world was attacked. All except for one. Occasionally, our people vote to have a citizen to be archived. Someone of great achievement. It is a cultural honor. The person archived in that vessel was General Ares. He is a relic of our past, something we have moved on from. He was saved as a reminder. He is our most famous soldier. During the attack, somehow he got the ship off our home world. He brought it here.”

“The others in the vessel in Antarctica… they can’t wake up? Exit the tubes?”

“They can. However, we are now a non-violent species. The attack on our world, the brutality, the carnage… the tubes can only heal physical wounds. The people in Antarctica can awaken, but they retain their memories, down to the last agonizing second they died. It would be too cruel to awaken them. Their minds are wired a bit differently from yours. Psychologically, the trauma they endured is too great. They cannot escape the memories of what happened to them. They exist in a constant state of purgatory, unable to die permanently, unable to rise again.”

David wouldn’t have believed it, but he had experienced it—death and resurrection in the tube. Dorian had shot and killed him; and he had awoken, in a new body, an exact replica. “That’s what happened to me, how I awoke in the tube after Dorian killed me. It was just like the people from your home world.”

“Yes.”

“How does it work? Resurrection?”

“The science is rather complex—”

“Dumb it down for me. I want to understand.” David glanced at the cube, which still wasn’t quite out of sight. “We have time.”

“Very well. The piece of genetic technology you call the Atlantis Gene actually performs several functions. The most relevant, in this instance, is organizing radiation from the body into a data stream. Every human body emits radiation. The Atlantis Gene turns those isotopes into a cellular blueprint, a download of your body, including the cells in your brain, which contain your memories, up to the second you died.”

“The second time Dorian killed me, I awoke in the Gibraltar ship. How?”

“That is where our stories intersect, Mr. Vale. When the resurrection ship arrived, forty thousand years ago, we had already given humans the Atlantis Gene. Ares was keenly interested. He saw in humans an opportunity, a chance to build a new army, to fight back against our enemy. He insisted that the Atlantis Gene put you in danger, made you a target for our adversary. He convinced my partner. She colluded with him behind my back, modifying the therapy, looking for a way to increase your survival abilities. I observed the changes and was suspicious. I knew your species was advancing far too rapidly, but of course we had never tampered with another species in this way. I didn’t know what to expect. And I never imagined she had betrayed me. But I know why she did it: guilt, for something she did on our home world, an act that led to our demise.”

“What—”

“That is a story for another time. Here on Earth, Ares had what he needed: the final gene therapy to create his army. He tried to destroy the lander, and us with it—that was what happened off the coast of Gibraltar. The ship was split into pieces. We assumed his next move would be to commandeer our space vessel. He needs it to transport his army. I locked it down, preventing anyone from either the lander or Antarctica from reaching it. I also set a series of alarms and countermeasures. But our lander off the coast of Gibraltar was coming apart quickly. My partner was knocked out. I picked her up and carried her to the only place I could go.”

“Antarctica.”

“Yes. And Ares was waiting on me. He shot and killed her. Of course he had disabled resurrection for both of us in Antarctica. That was his plan. He shot me too, in the chest, but I stumbled back through the portal. I emerged in a different part of the lander in Gibraltar.”

David’s mind raced. Yes. In the room where he had resurrected the second time, there was a damaged suit. “The suit on the floor.”

Janus nodded. “It was mine. When I escaped to that section, my first move was to seal the lander off from Antarctica, to protect myself. Then I managed to reach the tube—one of the ones you resurrected in. After I was healed, I took stock. My situation was dire. The shard of the ship I found myself in was now deep underwater and far away from the coast. If I exited, I would drown long before I reached the surface, and I had no way to replicate anything with an oxygen tank.” He glanced at David. “The Immari colonel’s uniform I replicated for you was much more simple.”

“How did you—”

“I will come to it,” Janus said, holding his hand up. “I was trapped. And alone. My partner was dead, and to my surprise, my thoughts went first to her. Resurrection is a closely regulated technology. A death sequence, sent via the radiation from the Atlantis Gene, is impossible to fake, as it must be: imagine the implications of waking to find you have a double. I tried at first to force her resurrection, to trick the system into thinking she had died. The true death sequence had been sent to the ship in Antarctica, and Ares had deleted it. My entire strategy was to fake her death to the computer in my section and have her resurrect in the part of the ship closest to the shore—so that she could escape and, hopefully, stop Ares. I tried everything. I failed. However, thirteen thousand years later, I succeeded, in a way. In 1918, Patrick Pierce placed his dying wife in the tube, and Kate inside her. The computer must have executed the resurrection sequence then; but the child did not mature as a normal resurrection fetus would—it was confined by the mother’s body. Yet once removed from the mother, the child, Kate, began to grow—and, it seems that now, her memories have returned. Those memories from my partner have lain dormant in Kate’s mind all this time. Remarkable.”

“But how does Dorian have Ares’s memories?”

Janus shook his head. “As I said, I was desperate. I tried everything. I must have authorized any resurrection. Ares had joined our expedition and we had his radiation signature and memories. But… the memories would have ended thousands of—”




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