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Atlantis Endgame Part 12

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WHEN THE LIGHT shaft reached the gnarled tree-throne, the chanting women brought their ritual to a close, and the seer stepped once again into her seat.

The voices of the girls out on the plateau could be heard rising and falling in pleasing treble tones. This day was almost exactly like the one before; Linnea wondered how the priestesses perceived time, if their experiences blended into an indistinguishable run of days and years.

But she must not be lulled into thinking time did not matter. It did. The smoke burning her eyes and making the back of her throat feel raw was a reminder of that, as were the little tremors that rumbled through the caverns.

Linnea looked up. Was that crack new? Her thoughts scattered when the newest pet.i.tioner sat down and spoke in the old language.

Oh, if only Jonathan were here with us, Linnea thought. She could envision the linguist swathed in robes, pretending to be a woman and hiding a recorder so that he could gather precious words to add to the little known about the language still termed Linear A. Linnea thought. She could envision the linguist swathed in robes, pretending to be a woman and hiding a recorder so that he could gather precious words to add to the little known about the language still termed Linear A.



The thought of poor Jonathan being a linguistic spy brought a sad sort of smile to Linnea's lips; the reason the agent was not along for this trip was his wife having recently been killed in a car wreck. He was now coping with two small children.

Why couldn't he go ahead in the time machine and then come back?

Or for that matter, could they use the time machine to go back and save her? Linnea wondered, frowning, as the seer began to writhe, her old woman's form taking on the aspect of the holy serpent. What would it harm? What would it change, besides making a family whole and happy again? Could such an action unravel the world's proper course? What, given the horrors of history, const.i.tuted "proper"?

"a.s.ssssssah!"

The seer's hiss turned into a long, gargled shout, her eyes wide and blind.

Everyone stopped, eyes turned toward the seer.

Her hands snaked out, waving. In that strange, hoa.r.s.e, wailing cry she shouted words, repeating some phrases over and over.

The priestesses looked at one another in bewilderment and in fear. Then the oldest one motioned to the others. "Get the girls. Go down the mountain now. Tell everyone that the G.o.ddess has spoken at last: the people, all people, are to live now on the blue water, under the blue sky. Now, at once, before the sun sleeps."

The younger priestesses vanished through the creva.s.se leading to the plateau.

Linnea lingered, puzzled, confused. Another tremor shook the mountain, a gentle one, but a cascade of little stones poured down through the skylight crack, some of them falling on her.

"Go," Ela urged, touching Linnea's arm. "The G.o.ddess has spoken to us all. You must go; everyone must go. The fire spirits have been released, and their battle with the earth is to begin. There will be safety only on the water, in the air, away from rock and earth and fire."

What did that mean?

Linnea knew one thing for certain: she must find the rest of her team.

She bundled up her skirts into her arms and scooted between the rock slabs, her awareness of their weight, of the inexorable press of stone against stone and how it could so easily crush her, driving her headlong in urgency-and fear.

THIS THING ISN'T old, Eveleen thought, looking at the globe s.h.i.+p. Eveleen thought, looking at the globe s.h.i.+p.

At first she'd a.s.sumed it was another find, perhaps a crashed s.h.i.+p from farther back in prehistory. But as she flippered closer, examining the smooth gla.s.slike substance that formed the hull, she realized that there were no barnacles on it, no sea life attached. If the material was somehow impervious to the amazing adaptability of sea life, it would be a first.

No, this thing is new, or at least, it's newly here. this thing is new, or at least, it's newly here.

It's the Baldy s.h.i.+p, she thought then, looking at it in amazement. she thought then, looking at it in amazement.

Just then a puff of dust caught her eye and she turned her head. The sea life glowing along the cavern walls waved wildly, and rocks tumbled with hypnotizing slowness through the water.

Quake! Another of those little ones.

She turned her attention to Kosta, who waved an arm at the s.h.i.+p.

She looked down. Before, it had been difficult to make out anything, but now, suddenly, the interior of the s.h.i.+p lit with a variety of colors, some of them blinking quickly. Alarms?

What it meant was, someone might just be along to deal with it. Someone with weapons.

A touch on her arm made her recoil. Eveleen realized her heartbeat was up, adrenaline racing through her system. Danger! Only where?

Kosta pointed upward. Eveleen looked, and where there had been darkness before, a smooth cylindrical vertical shaft, made of clear gla.s.s, touched down to the top of the globe s.h.i.+p. She had missed it before; they both flippered up and felt it, solid, smooth, airtight.

Kosta pointed down into the s.h.i.+p. Around the equator, lights chased, the same blue-white cold light of the transporter mechanisms.

Kosta jerked his head toward the s.h.i.+p, and inside his mask, she saw him grin. It was his pirate grin, and she gasped, realizing what he wanted to do: steal the globe s.h.i.+p!

Why not?

Both of them now turned their attention to the s.h.i.+p. How to get into it without it flooding?

But Kosta had learned something about the alien tech. He sped upward again, feeling along the outer connection between the tube shaft and the globe s.h.i.+p. She saw him straighten out, manipulating something.

Clank! Whirr! Sounds reverberated, weirdly flattened, through the water: under the shaft something slid shut in the s.h.i.+p, and then the tube retracted a foot or so.

Kosta then motioned to Eveleen. He mimed pus.h.i.+ng the s.h.i.+p, waved his hand at the sled. Pus.h.i.+ng? Pus.h.i.+ng?

Well, why not? It wasn't one of the huge deep-s.p.a.ce twelve-crew jobs, like the one that had taken them to the faraway library planet, last mission. This one was small, everything right there: a two- or four-seater scout craft, she'd call it. And under water, it was just ma.s.s they had to deal with, which merely took patience.

Kosta ran the sled up to within a few feet of the side of the s.h.i.+p and let it sink slowly while he reached into a pouch and pulled out a brick of some plastic material. He began to mold it into a pancake, then slapped it on the nose of the sled and revved its engine to ram it gently into the s.h.i.+p. He began to pulse the engine, slowly. At first the ma.s.s resisted: it was as though nothing was happening. But eventually, the globe began to rock ever so slightly, and then more and more as he timed the engine pulses carefully. Finally, with a puff of mud squirting from underneath, the s.h.i.+p moved up into the water!

Then began a strange ultra-slow-motion bat-and-ball game, with the biggest ball Eveleen had ever seen. They maneuvered the globe s.h.i.+p through the cavern, back to the access tunnel.

Getting out was a lot faster than coming in, now that they didn't have to explore every inch of the walls. They sped as fast as they could, pus.h.i.+ng the globe s.h.i.+p faster and faster until it finally shot out of the cavern into the water and dropped slowly down to the seafloor below.

What now? A little beeping noise warned her that now now was the right time to get to the surface: she was on her emergency air. was the right time to get to the surface: she was on her emergency air.

Kosta pointed upward. Ah, there was the s.h.i.+p.

As Eveleen grabbed hold of the sled she caught sight of the alien-tech device, and saw that it had gone blank. Batteries? Broken?

They refastened the sled to the s.h.i.+p and surfaced. Her mind was full of questions. Beside her, Kosta shoved back his mask and looked up at Stavros.

"We found one of their s.h.i.+ps. Moved it to the seafloor below," he gasped.

Stavros was already reaching over the side to hand them up. "I will put a marker down. But something happened here: the target went dead," he said.

They looked at his alien tech-location device. It was just as blank as the one Kosta had carried.

Rumbling from the cliffs not four hundred yards away brought all three of them around. Strange little waves propagated out and high up a section of cliff gave way, causing a landslide. They watched the slab of rock smash into the water, sending seaweed-veined water shooting up.

When the sound had diminished, Kosta said, "Something has happened. We must get back."

Stavros did not wait for an answer-not that Kosta or Eveleen would have argued.

More tremors shook the cliffs as the s.h.i.+p moved back toward the harbor area. Eveleen, looking up at Akrotiri built into the cliffs overhead, like steps, made mental calculations and looked back again.

That underwater cave, the one that had connected the shaft with the globe s.h.i.+p. Could that perhaps lead up to that mysterious little room high up on the edge of the city?

Another question, she thought grimly, but before she could say anything, Kosta exclaimed, "Look!" she thought grimly, but before she could say anything, Kosta exclaimed, "Look!"

Stavros exclaimed something in idiomatic Greek.

They all turned their attention westward. Streams of people moved down the road at a frantic pace, many of them carrying bulky objects on their backs. Eveleen, squinting against the glaring sunlight, counted at least three looms, several rolled rugs, and uncountable jars and reed-mat bundled objects.

"It's an evacuation," she said.

Stavros thumped a fist onto the rail. "We must find Ashe."

And Ross, Eveleen said, but silently. Eveleen said, but silently.

"We must first defend the boat," Kosta stated with grim portent. "If this is the big evacuation that the scientists posited, in reality that means people are going to do anything, anything at all, to get themselves a s.h.i.+p."

CHAPTER 17.

LINNEA HEARD WOMEN'S voices behind her and halted on the trail. A cl.u.s.ter of older women appeared, huddling around something. Two of them looked up in mute appeal, and Linnea hurried back up the trail to discover that the three women had fas.h.i.+oned a kind of stretcher from two staff's lashed together with lengths of woven fibers of some sort and cloth laid over the whole. On this stretcher lay the seer, her face blanched.

"She cannot walk," Ela gasped. "The G.o.ddess departed from her spirit with such speed, she could not at first find her body."

Meaning, she got herself a migraine? Linnea thought, reaching for the end of one of the staffs. Ela paused to tuck the linen shroud more securely around the poor woman; then she picked up her end and they started down the trail. Linnea thought, reaching for the end of one of the staffs. Ela paused to tuck the linen shroud more securely around the poor woman; then she picked up her end and they started down the trail.

At first they tried to keep their steps in sync, but the trail narrowed so abruptly in places it became nearly impossible. Added to that was the frustration of stumbling and slipping over stones that one could not see.

Before too long Linnea's hands ached, and her clothing was damp with sweat. At least I get some exercise, At least I get some exercise, she thought with bleak humor; how the other women managed, she did not know. But her mind raced on, and she watched it race, she thought with bleak humor; how the other women managed, she did not know. But her mind raced on, and she watched it race, amazed at how one's thoughts will catch at any diversion from threatening danger: as a long tremor, one with a sickening jolt in the middle of it, silenced and stilled them all, what flitted through her stream of consciousness was the absurdity of discussing exercise machines with women who had lived three thousand years before she was born.

When the tremor stopped, they picked up their poles and started forward, halting again when an ominous rattling above heralded a landslide.

Hastening back up the trail, they watched in fear as boulders leaped crazily down, one smas.h.i.+ng onto the trail and sending a chunk of it scattering down the hillside below. A hail of rubble followed, ending at last with a pall of choking dust.

"Come. We must push through," Ela cried hoa.r.s.ely.

They stepped gingerly over the layer of dirt and stones nearly obliterating the trail and hurried on.

Abruptly the trail widened, and they were able to establish a rhythm. If the seer disliked the swinging, jolting stretcher, she said nothing; she gripped the poles at each side, her eyes closed.

The sun began to sink toward the west, and thirst had gone from pestering to agonizing when Linnea realized dully that they were rounding the last hill.

A gasp from Ela brought the stretcher parade to a halt. Her face, weirdly lit, was turned toward the north. Linnea stared in fear and wonder at the pre-Kameni Island, or what she a.s.sumed was that island.

The land itself was utterly obscured by a sky-sc.r.a.ping black cloud, one that had to be reaching at least twenty miles into the air. The cloud was not solid: writhing columns of smoke, from which flames of fire darted, reached like the fingers of death into the east.

"The holy snakes," one of the women whispered, in awe.

Without any warning at all the women were flung against the cliff side and then down onto the ground.

Pain lanced through Linnea's shoulder, but she was only peripherally aware of it. Why was the world sideways?

"Ayah," a voice moaned.

Linnea felt something sting her cheek, and who was pus.h.i.+ng her so hard?

The ground, air, and sky roared, jolting her so forcefully she could not struggle to her elbows. Tiny stones clattered all around, pinging her face and arms as she tried to see who was moaning. Black surged overhead, darting down flames toward the mountain from which they had just come.

Clack! Something dark flickered across her vision; there was a pain across her temple, and the world went dark.

"WHAT THE-" Stavros never finished his exclamation.

As the three watched, the island seemed to shrug, and then shudders rippled down in rings from the mountain, churning the water into nervous, choppy wavelets.

They had come to a halt maybe a quarter mile from the sh.o.r.eline, to avoid trouble. From there they watched the swarms of people pouring into every imaginable type of vessel, from the beautifully painted and decorated pleasure boats to the single-masted tradecraft.

As one boat veered near, Stavros shouted in Ancient Greek, "Where does everyone go?"

"The seer has spoken! The G.o.ddess says to live on the water, under the sky! The earth and fire demons are going to battle! I go to warn the other towns!" He pulled on the rope controlling his sail, and the little boat glided away toward the pre-Kameni Island.

Stavros turned to the other two, who shrugged. What the heck did that mean, other than "get out of here"? Had the Baldies somehow manipulated the oracle?

Whatever had happened, the entire population of Akrotiri appeared to have taken seriously the command to evacuate.

Even fis.h.i.+ng smacks and little rowboats were crowded so dangerously some of them were so low the rails were a hand's breadth above water.

Eveleen watched as the evacuation began in an orderly fas.h.i.+on, turning desperate on the edges: there were, as Kosta had predicted, some fights for some of the boats. She winced, wis.h.i.+ng there was something she could do, but they were helpless to interfere.

She watched one small family, consisting of a woman and two children, shoved back away from a skinny little fis.h.i.+ng smack. The woman ran, crying, from one boat to another, until at last one of the great, decorated boats of the priests paused, and she and her children were pulled on.

That was when the side of the mountain gave a heave, and quake waves fled outward, flinging people down onto the ground, sending donkeys braying, goats scolding, and every bird on the island winging into the air, squawking in angry protest.

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