The Atlantis Gene: A Thriller (The Origin Mystery, Book 1)

  ABOUT THE ATLANTIS GENE

  THE GREATEST MYSTERY OF ALL TIME…

  THE HISTORY OF HUMAN ORIGINS…

  WILL BE REVEALED.

  70,000 years ago, the human race almost went extinct.

  We survived, but no one knows how.

  Until now.

  The countdown to the next stage of human evolution is about to begin, and humanity may not survive this time.

  The Immari are good at keeping secrets. For 2,000 years, they’ve hidden the truth about human evolution. They’ve also searched for an ancient enemy — a threat that could wipe out the human race. Now the search is over.

  Off the coast of Antarctica, a research vessel discovers a mysterious structure buried deep in an iceberg. It has been there for thousands of years, and something is guarding it. As the Immari rush to execute their plan, a brilliant geneticist makes a discovery that could change everything.

  Dr. Kate Warner moved to Jakarta, Indonesia to escape her past. She hasn’t recovered from what happened to her, but she has made an incredible breakthrough: a cure for autism. Or so she thinks. What she has found is far more dangerous - for her and the entire human race. In the hands of the Immari, it would mean the end of humanity as we know it.

  Agent David Vale has spent ten years trying to stop the Immari. Now he’s out of time. His informant is dead. His organization has been infiltrated. His enemy is hunting him. But when David receives a coded message related to the Immari attack, he risks everything to save the one person that can help him solve it: Dr. Kate Warner.

  Together, Kate and David must race to unravel a global conspiracy and learn the truth about the Atlantis Gene… and human origins. Their journey takes them to the far corners of the globe and into the secrets of their pasts. The Immari are close on their heels and will stop at nothing to obtain Kate’s research and force the next stage of human evolution - even if it means killing 99.9% of the world’s population. David and Kate can stop them… if they can trust each other. And stay alive.

  DESCRIPTION

  THE ATLANTIS GENE is a thought-provoking technothriller about global genetic experiments, ancient conspiracies, and the mysteries of human evolution. Its complex characters and historical and scientific details will stay with you long after you finish. This fast-paced adventure is the first book in A.G. Riddle’s Origin Mystery Series.

  THE

  ATLANTIS

  GENE

  THE ORIGIN MYSTERY

  BOOK 1

  A.G. Riddle

  CONTENTS

  Copyright • Dedication

  Prologue

  Part I: Jakarta Burning

  Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 • Chapter 17 • Chapter 18 • Chapter 19 • Chapter 20 • Chapter 21 • Chapter 22 • Chapter 23 • Chapter 24 • Chapter 25 • Chapter 26 • Chapter 27 • Chapter 28 • Chapter 29 • Chapter 30 • Chapter 31 • Chapter 32 • Chapter 33 • Chapter 34 • Chapter 35 • Chapter 36 • Chapter 37 • Chapter 38 • Chapter 39

  Part II: A Tibetan Tapestry

  Chapter 40 • Chapter 41 • Chapter 42 • Chapter 43 • Chapter 44 • Chapter 45 • Chapter 46 • Chapter 47 • Chapter 48 • Chapter 49 • Chapter 50 • Chapter 51 • Chapter 52 • Chapter 53 • Chapter 54 • Chapter 55 • Chapter 56 • Chapter 57 • Chapter 58 • Chapter 59 • Chapter 60 • Chapter 61 • Chapter 62 • Chapter 63 • Chapter 64 • Chapter 65 • Chapter 66 • Chapter 67 • Chapter 68 • Chapter 69 • Chapter 70 • Chapter 71 • Chapter 72 • Chapter 73 • Chapter 74 • Chapter 75 • Chapter 76 • Chapter 77 • Chapter 78 • Chapter 79 • Chapter 80 • Chapter 81 • Chapter 82 • Chapter 83 • Chapter 84 • Chapter 85 • Chapter 86 • Chapter 87 • Chapter 88 • Chapter 89 • Chapter 90 • Chapter 91 • Chapter 92 • Chapter 93 • Chapter 94 • Chapter 95 • Chapter 96

  Part III: The Tombs of Atlantis

  Chapter 97 • Chapter 98 • Chapter 99 • Chapter 100 • Chapter 101 • Chapter 102 • Chapter 103 • Chapter 104 • Chapter 105 • Chapter 106 • Chapter 107 • Chapter 108 • Chapter 109 • Chapter 110 • Chapter 111 • Chapter 112 • Chapter 113 • Chapter 114 • Chapter 115 • Chapter 116 • Chapter 117 • Chapter 118 • Chapter 119 • Chapter 120 • Chapter 121 • Chapter 122 • Chapter 123 • Chapter 124 • Chapter 125 • Chapter 126 • Chapter 127 • Chapter 128 • Chapter 129 • Chapter 130 • Chapter 131 • Chapter 132 • Chapter 133 • Chapter 134 • Chapter 135 • Chapter 136 • Chapter 137 • Chapter 138 • Chapter 139 • Chapter 140 • Chapter 141 • Chapter 142 • Chapter 143 • Chapter 144 • Chapter 145 • Chapter 146 • Chapter 147 • Chapter 148 • Chapter 149 • Chapter 150 • Chapter 151 • Chapter 152 • Chapter 153

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note • Acknowledgments • About the Author

  This novel is fiction, except for the parts that aren't.

  Copyright © 2013 by A.G. Riddle

  All rights reserved.

  AGRiddle.com

  ISBN: 978-1-940026-00-8

  For Anna.

  PROLOGUE

  Research Vessel Icefall

  Atlantic Ocean

  88 Miles off the Coast of Antarctica

  Karl Selig steadied himself on the ship’s rail and adjusted the binoculars. There was definitely something sticking out of the iceberg. It looked almost like… a submarine. But it couldn’t be.

  “Hey Steve, come check this out.”

  Steve Cooper, Karl’s grad-school friend, tied off a buoy and joined Karl on the other side of the boat. He peered through the binoculars. “A sub?”

  “Maybe—”

  “What’s under it?”

  Karl grabbed the binoculars. “Under…” He panned to the area under the sub. There was something else. The sub, if it was a sub, was sticking out of another metallic object, this one gray and much, much larger than the sub. But unlike the sub, the gray object didn’t reflect any light; it looked more like waves, the kind that shimmer just over the horizon of a warm highway or a long stretch of desert. It wasn’t warm though, or at least it wasn’t melting the ice. Just above the structure, Karl caught a glimpse of some writing on the sub: U-977 and SS Kreigsmarine. A Nazi Sub. Sticking out of… a structure of some sort…

  Karl dropped the binoculars to his side. “Wake Naomi up and prepare to dock the boat. We’re going to check it out.”

  Steve rushed below deck, and Karl heard him rousing Naomi from one of the small boat’s two cabins. Karl’s corporate sponsor had insisted he take Naomi along. Karl had nodded in the meeting and hoped she wouldn’t get in the way. He wasn’t disappointed. When they had put to sea five weeks ago in Cape Town, South Africa, Naomi had brought aboard two changes of clothes, three romance novels, and enough vodka to kill a Russian Army. They had barely seen her since. It must be so boring for her out here, Karl thought. For him, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Karl raised the binoculars and looked again at the massive piece of ice that had broken off from Antarctica nearly a month ago. Almost 90% of the iceberg was underwater, but the surface area still covered 47 square miles — 1.5 times the size of Manhattan.

  Karl’s doctoral thesis focused on how newly calved icebergs affected global sea currents as they dissolved. Over the last four weeks, he and Steve had deployed high-tech buoys around the iceberg that measured sea temp and salt water-fresh water balance as well as took periodic sonar readings of the iceberg’s changing shape. The goal was to learn more about how icebergs di
sintegrated after leaving Antarctica. Antarctica holds 90% of the world’s ice, and when it melted in the next few centuries, it would dramatically change the world. He hoped his research would shed light on exactly how.

  Karl had called Steve the minute he found out he was funded. “You’ve got to come with me—No, trust me.” Steve had reluctantly agreed, and to Karl’s delight, his old friend had come alive on the expedition as they took readings by day and discussed the preliminary findings each night. Before the voyage, Steve’s academic career had been as listless as the iceberg they were following as he floated from one thesis topic to another. Karl and their other friends had wondered if he would drop out of the doctoral program altogether.

  The research readings had been intriguing, and now they had found something else, something remarkable. There would be headlines. But what would they say? “Nazi sub found in Antarctica.” It wasn’t inconceivable.

  Karl knew the Nazis were obsessed with Antarctica. They sent expeditions there in 1938 and 1939 and even claimed part of the continent as a new German province — Neuschwabenland. Several Nazi subs were never recovered during World War II and not known to have been sunk. The conspiracy theorists claimed that a Nazi sub left Germany just before the fall of the Third Reich, carrying away the highest ranking Nazis and the entire treasury, including priceless artifacts that had been looted and top-secret technology. The conspiracies grew grander with every passing year, but there it was: a Nazi sub in an iceberg off the coast of Antarctica.

  At the back of Karl’s mind, a new thought emerged: reward money. If there was Nazi treasure on the sub, it would be worth a huge amount of money. He would never have to worry about research funding again.

  The more pressing challenge was docking the boat to the iceberg. The seas were rough, and it took them three passes, but they finally managed to tie off a few miles from the sub and the strange structure under it.

  Karl and Steve bundled up tight and donned their climbing gear. Karl gave Naomi some basic instructions, the long and short of which were “don’t touch anything,” then he and Steve lowered themselves to the ice shelf below the boat and set off.

  For the next 35 minutes, neither man said anything as they trudged across the barren ice mountain. The ice was rougher toward the interior and their pace slowed, Steve’s more than Karl’s.

  “We need to pick it up, Steve.”

  Steve made an effort to catch up. “Sorry. A month on the boat has got me out of shape.”

  Karl glanced up at the sun. When it set, the temperature would plummet and they would likely freeze to death. The days were long here. The sun rose at 2:30 AM and set after 10 PM, but they only had a few more hours. Karl picked up his pace a little more.

  Behind him, he heard Steve shuffling his snow shoes as fast as he could, trying desperately to catch up. Just before he reached Karl, Steve tripped, fell, and began rolling toward a large ravine. The ice broke under him, and he was slipping quickly into a massive crack in the ice.

  For Karl, the scene was surreal, unfolding in almost slow-motion, as if he weren’t there. He felt himself unstrap his snow shoes and run toward Steve. He would never reach him — Steve was sliding away too quickly as the crevice swallowed the ice underneath him. Karl took a rope from his belt and threw the end toward Steve in a desperate attempt. To his surprise, it pulled tight, jerking Karl off his feet and slamming him belly-first into the ice, pulling him toward the edge. Karl scrambled to get his feet under him, but the pull of the rope was too much. He was going to go over. He relaxed his hands and let the rope slide through them. His forward motion slowed, and he pushed up and planted his feet in front of him. The spikes on the ends of his boots bit into the ice as he came to a halt. He squeezed the rope, and it pulled tight, making a strange vibrating sound almost like a low violin.

  “Steve! Hang on! I’m going to pull you up—”

  “Don’t,” Steve yelled.

  “What? Are you craz—”

  “There’s something down here. Lower me, slowly.”

  Karl thought for a moment. “What is it?”

  “Looks like a tunnel or a cave. It’s got gray metal in it. It’s blurry.”

  “Ok, hold on, I’m going to let some slack out.” Karl let about 10 feet of rope out, and when he heard nothing from Steve, another ten feet.

  “Stop,” Steve called.

  Karl felt the rope tugging. Was Steve swinging? The rope went slack.

  “I’m in,” Steve said.

  “What is it?”

  “Not sure.” Steve’s voice was muffled now.

  Karl crawled to the edge of the ice and looked over.

  Steve stuck his head out of the mouth of the cave. “I think it’s some kind of cathedral. It’s massive. There’s writing on the walls. Symbols — like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m going to check it out.”

  “Steve, don’t—”

  Steve disappeared again.

  A few minutes passed. Was there a slight vibration? Karl listened closely. He couldn’t hear it, but he could feel it. The ice was pulsing faster now. He stood up and took a step away from the edge. The ice behind him cracked, and then there were cracks everywhere — spreading out quickly. He took a step back and ran full speed toward the widening fissure. He jumped — and almost made it to the other side, but he came up short. His hands caught on the ice ledge, and he dangled there for a long second. The vibrations in the ice grew more violent with each passing second. Karl watched the ice around him crumble and fall, and then the shard that held him broke free, and he was plummeting down into the abyss.

  On the boat, Naomi watched the sun set over the iceberg. She picked up the satellite phone and dialed the number the man had given her.

  “You said to call if we found anything interesting.”

  “Don’t say anything. Hold the line. We’ll have your location within two minutes. We’ll come to you.”

  She set the phone on the counter, walked back to the stove, and continued stirring the pot of beans.

  The man on the other end of the sat phone looked up when the GPS coordinates flashed on his screen. He copied the location and searched the satellite surveillance database for live feeds. One result.

  He opened the stream, then panned the view to the center of the iceberg, where the dark spots were. He zoomed in several times and when the image came into focus, he dropped his coffee to the floor, bolted out of his office, and ran down the hall to the Director’s office. He barged in, interrupting a gray-haired man who was standing and speaking with both hands held up.

  “We’ve found it.”

  PART I:

  JAKARTA BURNING

  CHAPTER 1

  Autism Research Center (ARC)

  Jakarta, Indonesia

  Present Day

  Dr. Kate Warner awoke to an eerie feeling: there was someone in the room. She tried to open her eyes. She was so groggy. And sore. The room smelled musty… dank, almost subterranean. She was sleeping on something hard, a couch maybe; definitely not her bed in her 19th floor condo in downtown Jakarta. Where was she?

  Another footfall. Almost silent, like tennis shoes on carpet. “Kate.” A man’s voice. A scratchy whisper. Someone testing to see if she was awake.

  Kate managed to open her eyes a little more. Above her, faint rays of sunlight filtered in through metal blinds that covered short, wide windows. In the corner, a strobe light pierced the room every few seconds, like the flash of a camera snapping a photo incessantly.

  She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t respond. She took a deep breath and sat up quickly, seeing the man for the first time. He reeled back, dropping something that clanged and splashed on the floor.

  It was Ben Adelson, her lab assistant. “Jesus, Kate. I’m sorry. I was, I thought if you were up, you might want coffee…” He bent to pick up the remnants of the shattered coffee cup, and when he got a closer look at her, he said, “God, you look like hell, Kate.” He stared at her for a moment. “Please tell me what’s going o
n.”

  Kate rubbed her eyes. She had been working day and night for the last five days, virtually non-stop since she had gotten the call from Martin Grey: produce results now, any results, or the funding goes away. No excuses this time. She hadn’t told any of the staff on her autism research project. There was no reason to worry them. Either she got some results, and they went on or she didn’t, and they went home. “Coffee sounds nice, Ben. Thanks.”

  The man pulled his black face mask down. “Use your knife inside. Gunfire will draw attention.”

  His assistant, a woman, nodded and pulled her face mask down as well.

  They exited the black van and walked to the door. The man reached for the door with his gloved hand, then hesitated. “You’re sure the alarm is off?”

  “Yeah. Well, I cut the outside line, but it’s probably going off inside.”

  “What? Jesus! They could be calling it in right now.” He threw the door open. “Let’s move.”

  They ran inside, slamming the door behind them. Above it, a sign read:

  Autism Research Center

  Staff Entrance

  Ben returned with a fresh cup of coffee, and Kate thanked him. He plopped down in a chair opposite her desk and said, “You’re going to work yourself to death. You’ve slept here for the past four nights. And the secrecy, banning everyone from the lab, hoarding your notes, not talking about ARC-247. I’m not the only one who’s worried.”

  Kate sipped the coffee. Jakarta had been a difficult place to run a clinical trial, but working on the island of Java had some bright spots. The coffee was one of them.