Assult on atlantis, p.1
Assult on Atlantis, page 1
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
COOL GUS PUBLISHING
ATLANTIS: ASSAULT ON ATLANTIS, series book FIVE
COPYRIGHT © 2003 by Bob Mayer, Updated 2011
Cover Art by Jen Talty
Cover Photo by Mike Tigas
http://mike.tig.as
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author (Bob Mayer) except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
ATLANTIS: ASSAULT ON ATLANTIS
Book 5
by
BOB MAYER
THE DISTANT PAST
10,000 B.C.
A thousand men manned the fortress walls waiting to die bravely as the High Defender of Atlantis had ordered and foretold. They were the elite of the Atlantean army, handpicked for this last mission and the survivors of a decade-long war against an enemy none who had faced had ever returned to describe. They were armed with spear, sword and bow and knew their weapons would be useless against the coming darkness. Still, they stood tall on the ramparts and looked out to the sea from which their doom would come.
The fortress was set on the smallest of thirteen volcanic islands in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Although the smallest, this island, centrally located, was the most important, as it was the seat of power for the Empire of Atlantis. The fortress wall surrounded a magnificent city, consisting of more than forty square miles of homes, temples, government buildings, and businesses constructed from a fine white marble, which gleamed in the late afternoon sun. In the very center of the city, a huge pyramid had been hurriedly built. It was more than three hundred feet high with a level top twenty feet wide. Contrasting with the rest of the city, it was built of black stone.
On the top of the pyramid stood Pri Tor, the High Defender. She was a tall woman, with short red hair and pale skin. She wore a white robe with red trim and a crystal amulet around her neck as a sign of her special position.
Her eyes were icy blue, and they were currently scanning to all points of the compass from the center of Atlantis. In every direction, darkness covered the ocean, a black wall over a mile high of an undeterminable depth: the Shadow’s domain. The circle of black was slowly closing on the center island of Atlantis, the capital city of the kingdom that had once ruled the other twelve islands in the center of the Atlantic Ocean and colonies on both sides of the ocean. As far as she knew, the twelve were uninhabited now, overrun by the encroaching darkness of the Shadow.
Many had escaped, warned by the Defenders of the coming doom, spreading out across the ocean before the darkness finished encircling, the twelve tribes of Atlantis seeking haven, carrying with them the legend of Atlantis and the knowledge that had been given in visions to the Defenders by the Ones Before. It was only four days ago that the blackness had appeared, completely encircling the thirteen-island empire. In that time the darkness had constricted, overrunning the other islands coming ever closer.
Some warriors had stayed on each of the islands, unwilling to give up their homes so easily. The Defenders had felt their deaths as the Shadow closed in. Their defiance had not slowed the inevitable in the slightest.
A little less than ten years ago, the Shadow had first appeared in the form of a triangular-shaped mist upon the sea far to the southeast. A ship sent to investigate had never come back out, as had no ship since then. The mist had turned to darkness over the course of two years. Then the colony on an island near the darkness had been overrun; every person swallowed by it. In the following years, several other colonies, on the both sides of the ocean, had been absorbed by darkness that appeared nearby.
Then a select few among the Atlanteans, mostly woman, began receiving visions and hearing voices from some unseen entity calling itself the Ones Before telling them the nature of the force behind the darkness—the Shadow—and telling and showing them ways to combat the threat. At first, they were ignored as the warriors tried to use traditional means to fight the Shadow, but when all these attempts became abject failures, the people were forced to turn to these oracles.
Thus the Defenders were formed. The darkness to the southwest was destroyed by a pyramid and the sacrifice of a Defender and several warriors exactly as the Ones Before instructed. For a couple of years there was peace and no sign of the Shadow—until the previous week. Desperate visions warned of the coming threat and now it was here. The visions they were given and the voice that whispered inside their heads told the Defenders there was only one way to stop the Shadow this time.
Pri Tor shifted her gaze to those gathered on the broad stairs of the pyramid, twelve priestesses like her, the Chief Defender from each island, especially chosen for this. There was a young girl, also with red hair and blue eyes, in front of them on the top step. Two warriors, the taller of which held a staff, one end of which was a razor-sharp spearhead and the other a seven-headed snake—the Naga. Behind her was a large slab with the contour of a human etched into its stone surface.
Pri Tor signaled and her daughter came to her. The High Defender knelt so she was the same height as the young girl. “You must be brave.”
Her daughter, Pri Ker, could only nod. Pri Ker was the first born to a Defender and a warrior who had some of the sight and hearing. She was the future.
Pri Tor removed the amulet from her neck and placed it over her daughter’s head. “You must carry the knowledge of the High Defender.” She glanced over her daughter’s shoulder at the Shadow. “It will come back, and you and those who follow, you will be the ones to fight it.”
Pri Ker finally spoke. “Will we ever completely defeat it?”
Pri Tor frowned. “I have not been shown that nor heard of it. I only know what must be done now. It is time for you to go. I do not know where your travels will take you.” She reached inside her robe and removed a slim metal tube, capped at both ends. It was covered with fine runes etched into the metal. “Take this also. It might help others some day. And perhaps someone can read the strange writing that we could not.”
Pri Ker swallowed, holding back tears, knowing such a sign of weakness would be insulting to all the chosen ones gathered around. She took the tube, reached up and hugged her mother, then turned and made her way down the stairs where several warriors waited to take her to the strange ship moored at the dock.
Pri Tor rose to her feet. “It is time.”
The dozen priestesses bowed their heads in prayer for several moments.
“Go,” Pri Tor ordered, and the priestesses made their way down the stairs, then scattered to the twelve positions on the walls that Pri Tor had chosen as a result of the vision she had been given. Meanwhile, Pri Tor took a dark red cloth from her pocket and draped it over her shoulders. It had runic writing on it, a gift from the Ones Before, one of the few substantial things received via a gate, the name given by the Ones Before for the darkness. As near as Pri Tor could tell both the Shadow and the Ones Before used the gates, although no human had ever entered one and come back to tell of it, and no representative of either side had ever come out of the darkness of a gate into light.
Pri Tor walked to the slab and climbed onto it, standing tall, where she could see all of the capital of Atlantis spread out around her. She saw the chosen thousand on the walls. Would they be enough? she wondered briefly, and then dismissed the doubt. It was one of many decisions she’d had to make in the past week as the inevitable drew near. They had to be enough. The plan she’d “heard” from the Ones Before had indicated a thousand should be sufficient and she had to trust in it.
Her eyes were drawn to a long, slim ship tied at the nearest dock. It was a hundred meters long by five wide. The hull was of black metal, open to the sky with no decking. A single thin mast of the same black metal poked into the sky, almost twenty meters high. In the rear was a raised platform on which rested a black box two meters cubed. There were rows of seats inside, manned by sailors. In the prow of the ship was a golden sphere a meter in diameter. The surface of the sphere writhed and moved, each strand pulsing as if alive.
The ship was a gift from the Ones Before. It had come out of the darkness with no one on board two days ago and been brought to shore by Atlantean sailors from a nearby warship. The warship had been waiting in the correct spot; because Pri Tor had had a vision, telling her what was going to happen. She had also had a vision as to what was to be done with the ship and that which was onboard it. The metal tube had been on the ship, and she knew it needed to stay with it.
Pri Tor saw her daughter cross the gangplank onto the ship. The ship immediately began moving, although there was no apparent propulsion system. As it cleared the harbor, the ship paused. As she had been instructed by her mother. Pri Ker placed her hands on the golden sphere. A black hole opened in front of the ship, and the prow entered the gate.
I love you. Pri Tor used her mind to send the message to the ship, and she “felt” the message returned by her daughter. Pri Tor saw several dolphin fins appear near the prow of the ship and she felt some relief that their brethren of the sea were escorting it as it disappeared into the gate. As soon as the stern of the ship was through, the gate snapped out of existence. Where her daughter was now, Pri Tor had no clue. The vision had only shown her this far. But she had to trust
Pri Tor raised her gaze beyond. The Shadow was closer. Pri Tor looked at the fortress walls. The thousand warriors were ready. At the twelve designated points along the walls her priestesses stood.
Pri Tor felt a tremble come up out of the ground. The earth itself was unsteady, a result of the Shadow’s power. Several islands to the south, where colonies had taken root, had disappeared over the past several years due to disturbances in the earth.
She signaled and the two warriors came up the stairs and joined her.
“Be ready,” Pri Tor ordered. One of the warriors put the spearhead into a slit next to the slab. His steady hand rested on the snakeheads.
Then Pri Tor lay down, her body fitting into the outline. She felt more tremors. High above, all she could see was blue sky. A single seagull flew overhead. She felt a tremendous wave of sadness knowing this was her last day. There would be no more beautiful dawns and wondrous sunsets. No more playing in the warm surf with her daughter. The simple joys and the pains of life were all to be ended, and she didn’t understand why. Why was the Shadow doing this? She didn’t even know who or what the Shadow was or who or what the Ones Before who had aided them were. The only contact with either had been through the gates. Among the Defenders, there had been much discussion, both about why they had been chosen and who had done the choosing. Were the Ones Before gods? Was the Shadow a demon force? Were humans just pawns in a battle between heaven and hell?
“How close?” she called out.
“Just about to touch the walls,” the warrior informed her.
She could feel the sheer evil of the darkness that approached. Of that, there was no doubt. Theological questioning and reasoning aside, there was the reality of the threat that had proven itself again and again over the past decade.
“At the walls,” the warrior announced. He was the father of Pri Ker, a brave man, and one who heard the whispers of the Ones Before, not anywhere near as loudly as a Defender, but enough to let Pri Tor know he had something of the sight and make her decide to mate with him. She briefly wondered how powerful their daughter’s sight and voice would be.
Pri Tor could hear the screams of the warriors as the darkness slid over them and they encountered what was inside. She closed her eyes. She “felt” the wave of bravery as she closed her eyes mixed with the despair from the warriors. It was a bolt of high-power energy into the right side of her brain.
With great effort, Pri Tor lifted her head and looked toward the walls. Darkness had encompassed the southwest part of it, but she could see the two priestesses who had been overrun as deep blue silhouettes in the blackness, a beacon of positive power. Their skulls were absorbing the same thing her mind was feeling, the raw power of the warriors’ emotion, and the energy was pouring through them to the pyramid.
A third and fourth Defender fell into the darkness. Bolts of blue flickered from the four now covered out to the others arranged around the wall, but mostly to the pyramid.
Pri Tor felt the power in her head building, almost unbearable. “Now,” she ordered.
The warrior turned his spear.
The pyramid began to vibrate. A blue glow suffused the slab and Pri Tor’s body. Energy from the outlying Defenders came toward her, adding to the power. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. The skin on her face began rippling as if there were something alive beneath it. Then her flesh began peeling away as her eyes turned into two blue glowing orbs.
The darkness was closer now on all sides. Seven of the twelve Defenders were covered, sucking in power from the doomed warriors’ minds. Pri Tor had a moment of clarity when she realized what was happening-the absolute desperation of the warriors, combined with their bravery in the face of it, was tapping something primeval and very powerful, and the nearby Defenders were able to channel it to her.
Still the Shadow closed in.
Deep inside Pri Tor, she felt the darkness slide over the top of the pyramid and her body. She was still alive, her head the focal point of the twelve skulls-the skulls of twelve priestesses, the twelve Defenders, who had already given their all in the battle against the Shadow.
Her body felt faint and far away. She distantly heard the warrior shout something and then scream in agony. More power flowed in. All the Defenders were active now.
Bolts of blue shot out of Pri Tor’s head into the encompassing darkness.
Again and again, blue lightning seared off the top of the pyramid into the darkness. The consistency of the darkness began to change. Swirls of blue mixing with the black. The blue and black spun about the top of the pyramid.
Pri Tor’s head was now a clear crystal, suffused with blue. The power from the twelve Defenders still poured into the pyramid, their heads also crystallized, still channeling the raw emotion from the dying warriors.
Neither Shadow nor Defender would yield.
So the Earth did.
The explosion centered on the pyramid, on a scale not seen since meteors battered the planet long before life existed. A tidal wave more than a mile high spread outward from the center of the Atlantic, so powerful it circled the entire globe core slowly subsiding. As far as Atlantis itself, the thirteen islands were gone so completely there was no indication there had even been land in the center of the mighty ocean, no ruins for later civilizations to find.
CHAPTER ONE
1844
Bone-cold wind blew down from the white covered peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Sweeping across the High Plains. Nestled in the valley that held the Greasy Grass River, known as the Little Big Horn to the whites, were two-dozen lodges of the Lakota Sioux. They were somewhat protected from the wind by the surrounding bluffs. But small wind devils still swirled about the lodges. It was the time of the Moon-of-Frost-in-the-Lodge, January, and only dire necessity would cause one to be outside before the sun rose.
The woman known as Nahimana, wife of the medicine man Crazy Horse, pulled the frozen rawhide flap to her lodge entrance aside and peered out into the dark. Not just the cold, but the foreboding darkness caused her to pause before exiting, as she knew she must. She glanced once over her shoulder at her sleeping husband, and then silently left the tent, one hand cradled underneath her swollen belly, the other holding a small leather pouch with an eagle feather tied to the binding. She had a small buffalo robe draped over one shoulder but wore only a simple one-piece dress made of deer hide. Her teeth were already chattering, the wind cutting through the thin garment and swirling up her bare legs.
She wove her way through the lodges toward the cottonwoods next to the river. Tethered ponies watched her, gathered tightly together for protection from the cold. Even the dogs the village used for warning were quiet, recognizing her scent, content to watch from their snowy havens underneath bushes.
Nahimana passed the edge of the village and made her way into the cottonwoods. There was barely enough starlight and moonlight for her to avoid bumping into a tree. She stopped abruptly as the ground suddenly dropped off, telling her she had reached the bank of the Greasy Grass. With great difficulty, she slid down the steep four-foot riverbank to a small shoal consisting of pebbles and sand. Ice framed both sides of the flowing water for about two feet, leaving a free-flowing center channel. The river was not deep, a few feet at best in the center.
Looking up, Nahimana saw the uncountable stars overhead, twinkling in the clear night sky in the space between the bare branches from the trees on each bank that framed her view. She felt very small and alone. All her visions seemed foolish now. How could she—and the child inside of her who now wanted to come out- matter in light of such vastness? Why should she and her child be chosen, as she knew they had been? And chosen for what fate?
Her child- the thought made her pause. It was tradition for a woman to leave the village to give birth, but not one scrupulously followed, especially when the weather was so dangerous. However, she had another reason to give birth away from the eyes of others. Although she had not slept with another man beside her husband, she was worried about what had grown inside her. Slightly more than eight moons ago, in the Moon of Shedding Ponies, she had awoken in great pain while Crazy Horse was off on a hunt. The dogs were barking loudly as if a bear had wandered into the camp. It was just a few weeks past the night she knew she had conceived with her husband. Her hair had crackled as if a summer storm were passing overhead. But such storms were still a few months off. Her abdomen was wracked with pain, and she’d feared she’d lost the child. But examining herself, she’d found a small, fresh cut on her stomach.
