Page 29 of Win


  “Right. I thought the Imperator did not have true governing power,” I say.

  “The Imperator is technically a figurehead with the limited power of a single deciding vote on the Council. However, the Imperial Family owns much of the nation’s land, and thus his real influence is far greater. He is very active and attends all the IEC meetings, especially now. . . .” Aeson points to the platter of savory aromatic stir-fried vegetables before us, and starts filling my plate for me as I watch.

  “I see. So, what exactly is going on? What’s happening now? And whoa, thank you, that’s plenty, Aeson! I can’t eat all this!” I take the heaping plate, while he proceeds to fill his own.

  “You need to eat. Your body has been depleted and needs the strength.”

  I notice he’s not answering my question directly. “Seriously, what’s going on?” I pursue. “Please, tell me. Now that we’re going to be together, isn’t it about time I knew what was really going on with Atlantis, Earth, everything?”

  As I speak, Aeson’s carefully controlled expression loses its casual calm, the mask dissolves, and I see distress and worry and darkness come to replace it.

  He takes a deep breath, and sets his eating utensil down. “Yes,” he says. “You’re right, it is time you knew.”

  And then Aeson dismisses all the servants from the room. “Leave us.”

  My heartbeat picks up, and now my pulse is racing as I look at him, and look at the serving staff as they swiftly abandon their tasks, bow in silence, and exit the chamber.

  “It is a long and depressing story, Gwen,” he says, as soon as the doors are shut and we are alone. “I’m going to have to begin by explaining some of the background, some of the history. . . .”

  “Okay.”

  And that’s when at last Aeson tells me the real story of Atlantis.

  Chapter 24

  “Many thousands of years ago—somewhere between twelve or thirteen thousand of your Earth years,” Aeson says, “Atlantis was the dominant civilization on Earth. We were a global superpower. We had advanced technology comparable to, and even more sophisticated than contemporary Earth, and the continent of our origin was a place of many wonders. We mined orichalcum from the depths of the earth and used it, together with quantum energy sources, to build an amazing advanced culture. But we were not perfect—we didn’t like to share the wealth that was our civilization with others. As a result, while most other parts of Earth remained primitive—in some cases what you might call stone-age—we had flying cars, a powerful military, high-end medicine, brilliant scientists, inventors, artists, and other scientific luxuries—all kinds of things similar to what we have today, though of course not as advanced as we are now, after thousands of years of additional progress. In short, we hoarded our knowledge and played gods with the rest of humanity, keeping them in the dark.”

  “Okay, that’s fascinating and scary,” I say.

  “It is, and also very painful and embarrassing to consider in retrospect,” he says, picking up a foaming glass of qvaali. “You should take a look at our Imperial Archives, Gwen, when you get the chance—when all of this is over. The history of Earth Atlantis is extensive, full of both ugly and enlightening details. It’s all in the ancient scrolls we brought with us from our home world.”

  “Oh, yes, I would love to see them!” I say.

  “I know you would.” He nods, with a shadow smile, then reverts to seriousness and continues. “It was also true, that while Atlantis was a shining light in some ways, it also harbored a corrupt society with a dissipated, self-indulgent lifestyle. We took our advances and luxuries for granted, and used others in the world around us for our own gain. We fought wars with super-weapons, experimented on our powerless neighbors across the ocean, discharged poison into the environment, blew up mountains and turned the air unfit to breathe and irradiated the water. And then we cleaned it up with our miraculous technology and started all over again, a centuries-long cycle of depletion of all living resources—selfish cruelty.”

  “Wow,” I say, watching him with rapt attention.

  “Eat, please.” He points to my plate. “Or I will stop talking.”

  “All right.” I pick up my utensil and take a bite of savory vegetables and grains.

  “And so,” he continues, “at the height of this vicious cycle, they came.”

  Immediately I stop chewing and freeze, staring at him. “They?”

  “Eight thousand years before your Khufu began work on the Great Pyramid, we were visited by an unexpected and powerful extraterrestrial adversary. They were sentient alien beings of unknown origin, not quite human, or maybe not even remotely human at all—unfortunately our historical records do not make it very clear what exactly they were. To this day we have no true description of their physical appearance, possibly humanoid in form, or their space vessels, or anything specific about them. The only thing that’s clear is that they had technology far greater than our own.”

  “Oh my God. . . . What? How so?”

  I admit, my mind has just been blown.

  Aliens! Non-human aliens from outer space! There’s other sentient life in the universe! We’re not alone!

  Okay, considering all I’ve been through, considering that right now I happen to be on another planet, in a distant galaxy a gazillion miles away from my point of origin, sitting across the table from a beautiful prince of an ancient, questionably human bloodline who is my future husband, I should not be reacting with this much surprise to pretty much anything I hear ever again. But—I’m sorry, I am geeking out!

  Aliens!

  Wait, did I just say that out loud? “Aliens! Actual sentient beings!”

  Aeson observes my stunned expression with some amusement, but once again it’s replaced with a serious demeanor. “Ah, Gwen, I love your enthusiasm, but you need to understand how terrible this revelation was for ancient Earth.”

  I nod, biting my lip in intense attention. “Okay, yes, of course—please go on!”

  “What happened next was poorly documented, and not very clear,” Aeson says. “But our ancient historical documents tell us that Atlantis, as the primary planetary superpower, was given an ultimatum by these alien beings: either make changes, or be destroyed. The specific changes included our fundamental social structure, our technology, and things like our use of energy sources and weapons of mass destruction, and our handling of Earth’s environment. We had to comply immediately, and were given a span of just a few years to completely change our ways and restructure, globally.”

  “But—why?” I say. “What gave them the right to demand these changes? What business was it of theirs to interfere with Earth? I mean, yes, sounds like Atlantis was doing awful things, but still, that’s really strange! Who were these aliens?”

  “I agree,” he says. “And—I don’t know. No one really knows. One theory says they’re some kind of interplanetary ‘police,’ keeping emerging civilizations in check. According to another, they wanted Earth’s resources for their own and lied to get us to abandon our home world so that they could strip the planet and then destroy everything to cover their tracks. Or maybe they were just toying with us, studying our terrified response to their threat.”

  I stare, deep in thought. “So, how did the Atlantis government respond to these threats? Did they fight? Was there an interplanetary war or something?”

  Aeson pauses to take a sip of his drink. “Not exactly. The ruling body of ancient Atlantis at the time was very similar to our current political system on Atlantida—a council of exclusive elites presided over by an Imperator. It was in fact a core tradition we preserved when we came here. But anyway—apparently these ancient Atlantean rulers shared some of our modern traits, such as stubborn inflexibility. Add to that a complete disregard for the rest of the planet, and what can I say? Ancient Earth was doomed.”

  “Oh, my God,” I whisper. “So what did they do? And by ‘they,’ I mean both Atlantis, and the aliens!”

  “Well, the records sa
y that Atlantis pretended to comply with the aliens—on the surface. They put into effect some reform programs that were supposed to look like they were making positive changes. But secretly they used that grace period of several years to come up with more attractive alternatives—ways to fight the alien threat, and if that failed, a means to escape Earth.”

  “And what exactly was the alien threat? What were they going to do to Earth?”

  Aeson exhales, with a dark look on his face. “I think you can guess. They sent a series of asteroids to strike Earth. The first one was due to arrive in five years, and was to be deflected at the last minute, if Atlantis demonstrated satisfactory changes.”

  “Okay, wow. . . .”

  “Well, about two years into this time period, Atlantis used their advanced technology to easily destroy the first small asteroid while it was still moving in its original trajectory, deflecting the broken remains safely into space. As soon as this happened, a second asteroid was sent—this one much larger—together with a stern warning from the aliens. Atlantis made some excuses, promising to comply, but continued in secret with other plans. This time, Atlantean scientists made a subtle stealth deviation to the asteroid’s path so that it would miss Earth—all the while hoping the aliens would not notice. But immediately they received another visitation and warning, at the same time as the asteroid’s trajectory was mysteriously corrected back by the aliens, so that once more it was on a direct collision course, and on schedule to hit in three years.”

  I stare at Aeson, letting this sink in, thinking of Earth in the present day . . . a similar asteroid threatening to hit it in just a few months . . . and my parents and George still there.

  Aeson watches me, and I notice his gaze is profoundly sympathetic, as though he can read my mind. He is seeing right through me; he knows exactly what I’m thinking. . . . And his next words come bitterly. “It was then that the ancient Atlantean rulers and the scientific community came to a consensus that their level of technology was insufficient to defeat the alien threat—apparently, every attempt to use force against the aliens was easily neutralized. And so they decided that their only solution was to abandon Earth. They had three years remaining to come up with the means to do it.”

  “Only solution?” I say. “Why didn’t they just agree to meet the aliens’ demands? Wouldn’t it have been easier and possibly cheaper just to make those social and technological changes on Earth than to pack up and leave their home planet? Honestly, it sounds to me like the reforms the aliens proposed weren’t all that bad, compared to the alternative.”

  Aeson makes a sound of sarcasm. “Gwen, you really don’t know us Atlanteans very well yet. The idea of changing anything fundamental and ingrained in our traditions goes against the very nature of Atlantis. It is impossible and frustrating, and some people would rather die than change their ways.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  He raises one brow. “If only I was. No—what threatened ancient Atlantis was an upheaval of everything it stood for, and our records tells us, the ruling elites made it clear they would literally die and let everyone else on the planet die with them rather than give up their power and their lifestyle.”

  My mouth falls open in outrage. “What about the ordinary people, the rest of the population of Atlantis? Couldn’t they rebel, or something?”

  “They couldn’t. The elites had the power and the technology, and the general population was as much enslaved and powerless as were the other primitive humans around the globe. Whatever the rulers decided was law. . . . And yes, it was an ugly crime against humanity.” Aeson pauses to take another drink.

  I stare at him mesmerized, offended, shocked by ancient history. “So—so basically Atlantis chose to be destroyed.”

  “No,” Aeson tells me sadly. “They chose to abandon their home planet and escape, with all their selfish customs and bad habits intact, and let everyone else on the planet be destroyed. What happened next was—they secretly built several ark-ships similar in scope to our modern ones, though likely more primitive. They had little time, and could take only a select few on those vessels—only a few thousand people out of a global population of millions. Naturally the Imperial Family and the highest nobility were first in line—” And here Aeson snorts bitterly.

  “Naturally,” I echo him.

  “And the rest of the chosen ones were members of the most privileged class, with only a few hundred from the ordinary population allowed on board to serve them, based on their usefulness. We know this because of the unusually meticulous ancient ship cargo manifests and inventory records of the various ark-ship crews—records which speak not only of belongings but of menial laborers, skilled artisans, indentured scientists and technicians, medics, instructors, servants, slaves, hand-maidens, security guards and soldiers assigned to each of the high-ranking passengers. At the end of the alien-imposed grace period, the asteroid approached Earth, and they simply boarded the ark-ships. The ancient records of actual events become vague at this point, so all we know is—the alien beings appeared in the very end, to check the Atlanteans’ progress, or lack of, and the asteroid was allowed to strike Earth.”

  “Wow,” I mutter.

  “The asteroid was massive and caused what you call a near-Extinction Level Event, or E. L. E. It hit in the Atlantic Ocean just off the shore of the continent of Atlantis, which suffered catastrophic earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and other seismic events, shifting tectonic plates and rearranging land masses. Meanwhile the surrounding ocean was filled with tidal waves that rushed around the globe, while the air burned and was filled with debris and particles that blocked the sun. What was left of Atlantis sunk underneath the ocean, and the atmosphere was plunged into chaos, and most living things perished. We learned only recently, from the Earth’s own historical records, that as a result of this, what followed was a period in ancient history that was an ice age, near the end of your Pleistocene period.

  “Despite the E. L. E., life on Earth survived somehow. Homo sapiens hid in caves all around the world, to emerge hundreds of years and many generations later, to begin again as the climate once again warmed and the atmosphere cleared, in the beginning of the Holocene. It’s possible there were some Atlanteans among the original survivors—members of the unlucky Atlantean majority, the lower castes who did not get a place on the ark-ships and who somehow fled the sinking continent. But these people who came out of the caves were, for the most part, primitive humans, and any Atlanteans integrated among them lost all our knowledge and technology. As far as whatever happened to the mysterious and terrifying alien beings that caused all this—for a very long time we didn’t know. But we did know that our direct ancestors, the ancient fortunate few Atlanteans who escaped, observed the initial stages of the catastrophic disaster from orbit, before they sped away to their new destination, a distant star system and habitable planet somewhere in the direction of the Constellation of Pegasus, in another galaxy.”

  “In other words, this planet?”

  “Yes.”

  Aeson watches my reaction, and once again I’m certain he knows the complex mix of thoughts that are churning inside me. “Please eat, Gwen,” he says after a small pause.

  I nod and take another mouthful, chew automatically. “Okay, and so, what next?”

  “Well, we colonized this planet. Fast forward about ten thousand Atlantean years, with all its turmoil and history and rise and fall of nations, and human evolution—we have present-day Atlantis. Looking back all these centuries, there was never a sign of the aliens. Although we remained vigilant, after all that time we started to think we were safe and on our own. And then, about five years ago, the impossible happened. They found us—again, after ten thousand years, they followed us here across the universe, and found us.” He frowns and sets down his glass and stops the pretense of eating or drinking.

  “Oh . . . God. They’re here? Now?”

  I find that I’m unable to breathe—much less chew and swallow—so I
also stop pretending to eat. The sudden implications of the true state of things, the danger level, hits me hard.

  We are not safe, it occurs to me, as my thoughts fill with panic. Even here on Atlantis, there’s no sanctuary . . . we’re not safe, none of us, not the Earth refugees, and not the Atlanteans. . . . We’ve crossed the universe and we are still not safe!

  Oh no. . . . Oh, damn!

  “Tell me everything,” I say, staring at Aeson with desperation. “Please!”

  Aeson’s expression is grave and controlled. He does not answer immediately, and watches me with a semblance of composure. . . . And yet his eyes cannot hold back the darkness, the full range of pain that he is trying to put down, submerge somewhere deep. . . . Only, he cannot conceal it from me, and now I recognize it for what it is, his burden of knowledge and responsibility. . . . I understand how little I’ve known so far, just the tip of the iceberg.

  “Unfortunately I don’t have the details of their arrival, Gwen—not even the exact time and date when it started, or the nature of the first sighting or contact, or who in Atlantida was involved. As a high ranking officer in the Fleet, I’ve been briefed in very general terms, and I have my orders. But only select IEC members and my Father know the whole story. They are the only ones privileged to this top secret information. In fact, the general population of Atlantis has very little idea of the current threat to all of us, or there would be global panic. We’re trying to keep it under control for now, even as the Fleet stands ready for action, as it has always been, since day one, since the days of the original colony.”

  “So that’s why the Fleet exists,” I say. “To fight these aliens!”

  “It does, in part,” Aeson says solemnly. “The Fleet has evolved into a dual-purpose force—trained to stand between us and an extraterrestrial threat, and also trained as a national defense force against other countries on Atlantis that have their own military equivalents. You see, over the centuries we’ve splintered into multiple ethnicities, nations with distinct borders and a variety of governments and political systems. You’ve studied an overview of our history and you know we’ve had many wars, including several world wars. Some of this conflict involved our closest foreign neighbors and rivals such as Ubasti and Eos-Heket to the north, Ptahelion and Shuria to the south across the ocean, and New Deshret on the opposite side of the planet, taking up most of the Lower Atlantida continent.”