Sentinels of Atlantis

By T. Ian Zuker and B. L. Bowling

A powerful tropical storm has engulfed a small sailboat and former marine, Captain Drake Mallory. Sailing through the infamous Bermuda Triangle in an effort to escape the tragic death of his fiance, Drake guides his boat towards the radio signal of a mystery ship. Little does he know of the ship's connection

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amazon Pro Hub
• Release date: Sep 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781087983226

Book preview

Sentinels of Atlantis

By T. Ian Zuker

with Bart Bowling

T. Ian Zuker

© Todd Zucker, 2012

Prologue

A blood red sun began to rise above the horizon, ascending toward its daily trek across the heavens; the crimson of dawn slowly transformed into a myriad of colors at every passing minute of the bright orb’s leisurely procession.  The deep reds and oranges of the early morning dissolved into a stunning azure ceiling, dotted with waifs of cotton-like clouds. 

Beneath the majestic sky lay an emerald-green ocean so still, it resembled a solid piece of jade, with only a few disturbances upon the glassy surface.  Occasionally a hungry sea bird would alter its slow, effortless flight and dive below the surface to catch its morning meal.  The only other interruption of the water’s deep jade surface was the unique coastline of a massive artificial island known as Atlantis. 

A beautiful sight to behold, Atlantis was surrounded by beaches of soft, bleached white sand.  It looked as if someone had laid a barrier of flour around the entire island.  The shoreline was contiguous and served as a buffer between the depth of the sea and the island’s smooth faced cliffs. 

The dark rock of the Atlantean cliffs formed a protective barrier around the entire island disrupted only by the vast opening into the Magnus Canal, a series of massive locks allowing ocean vessels to travel to and from the city.  Flowing over the edge of the cliffs, for miles on either side of the great Atlantean waterway, were dozens of splendid waterfalls cascading onto the narrow shoreline below and into the ocean.  The source of the streams feeding the falls was located high in the iced peaks of the island’s central mountain range.  Behind these protective ‘walls’ a spectacular fertile plain fed by a multitude of streams and rivers supported a magnificent agricultural breadbasket  Off in the distance from the island’s edge were the Chiron Mountains, standing guard between the city of Atlantis and the lush, wild lands of the west where many creatures, considered by most to be mythical, existed.  Only the most adventurous Atlanteans visited the western region of the island.

The early risers were starting their daily routines in the midst of this island paradise.  One individual, however, was not able to appreciate the beauty of the day.  He had been awake all night and was oblivious to the splendor around him.  He had just returned from an off-island meeting with his father, who had delivered grave news to him.

King Atlas entered the royal command center atop the tallest spire in Atlantis.  Moving over to one of several large oval windows in the circular room, he gazed out at the city, saddened by the possibility he would never see the sight of his magnificent kingdom again. 

Looking out upon the three concentric water rings surrounding the inner city, Atlas felt an appreciation for his home he had never experienced before.  From the water rings, he looked upon the city below with its pyramids and tall towers mixed in with domed and rectangular buildings.  Intermingling amongst the futuristic architecture were the traditional single storied, columned structures from which future architects would try to imitate from old tales and rumors.  The polished marble, glass and metal of the buildings in the sunlight gave Atlantis an almost luminescent effect.  Surrounding this magnificence was the Magnus Canal composed of  tremendous granite slabs quarried from abroad and brought to the island.  Built as a series of waterways and locks designed to raise and lower the water level allowing access for incoming and outgoing vessels to the inner core of Atlantis. 

A thousand thoughts ran through Atlas’ mind as he glimpsed over the numerous maglev tubes spread across the city and into the countryside.  He allowed himself to reflect when he was a child and how he thought the tube patterns gave the appearance of a giant spider web carefully laid upon the landscape.  A multitude of personal aircraft could be seen flitting about, glinting in the early morning sun.  He knew it would not be long before portions of a panicked populace would be using them to try and escape their destruction. 

Atlas’ father, Poseidon, had long ago decreed Atlantean technology was never to leave the island.  His reasons were well known due to the caveats of the Olympian mission therefore all Atlantean vehicles were designed and programmed with restrictions for flight only within the airspace around the island.  Outside of Atlas’ personal stratacar, there was only one type of vessel capable of traveling to and from the mainland; wooden sailing ships.  Even those were designed by Prometheus and far beyond the technical capabilities of the Neolithic Terrans, much to the displeasure of Zeus and grudgingly tolerated by Poseidon. 

Atlas had never given much thought to the ban as it had been an ingrained law that the Terrans were to be left to develop at their own pace with as little interference as possible.  Many Atlanteans and even Atlas himself sometimes questioned the minutiae of the decree regarding even the least amount of knowledge or mundane skills which would have improved the Terrans conditions. 

Atlas continued to stare out the window thinking about his father’s revelations to him.  How Poseidon’s long running philosophical disagreements with his brother Zeus, the commander of the mission, had become increasingly bitter and more acrimonious. During their  meeting, to which Atlas had been abruptly summoned,  Poseidon detailed how all research teams, personnel, crew and their immediate families had been summarily called back to Olympus in preparation for departure.  All traces of Olympian presence and technology were to be eradicated as would any Terran with advanced knowledge.    There was a great outcry among the Olympians but Zeus would have none of it and shouting them to silence thundered;

"You all, each and every one of you, KNEW this day was likely to come." Zeus’ face was darkened in rage and he visibly took control of himself as he continued in a calmer but no less scathing tone.  Time and time again many of you allowed a technology drift and in far too many instances, such as Prometheus, openly violated our mandates with outright transfers of knowledge.  Worse, you became intimately involved with these people in an uncontrolled manner and now we have generations of offspring as a result.  A profound sadness came over the visage of Zeus. The remingling of our genes with our progenitors was planned for and expected but not to this extent.  Zeus focused on Poseidon with a piercing glare. "Now we have been recalled and I am faced with a horrendous action.  These Terrans are our many times removed great grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. This is their world and they deserve, no, they have the right to develop along their own path without our interference.  And… this…will...be…done."  The towering leader emphasized each word.

And what of Atlantis?  Came Poseidon’s rumbling voice, from the shocked silence.

You well know the answer to that, my Brother.  What families of this crew can be taken aboard Olympus have already been notified to report here. Override codes have been sent to their personal vehicles allowing them to depart Atlantis.  See to your own family, I have left that task to you.

I shall depart at once Lord Zeus.

NO, you will NOT.  Zeus spat I know you all too well Brother.  You will contact your son, my nephew Atlas and have him gather up our family and bring them here for departure.   

Atlas brought himself back to the present, retreated from the window and moved to his command chair at the center of the control room.  With the new information provided by his father, he was determined to save as many of his people as he possibly could from the approaching cataclysm.

Only a very select few in the royal family had access to this room; it was the heart and soul of Atlantis.  Here, Atlas could exercise total control over the city’s artificial intelligence, Metis, which ran all aspects of Atlantis’ myriad functions.  If necessary, he could reprogram and override any system on the great island nation. 

The computer itself was a decentralized network consisting of many nodes distributed throughout the city with a massive redundancy factor.  Indeed, Metis could lose over half of her nodes and supporting network without suffering any significant degradation of function.  Additionally, she was mirrored with Poros; her twin system located in a secret cavern deep within an island in what would be known as the Mediterranean Sea, and in turn mirrored Poros’ programming.  It was this facility Atlas had just returned from meeting with his father.  Poseidon, while forbidden from visiting Atlantis had managed to obtain permission to go to the Poros facility in order to properly shut it down, put it into preservation mode with appropriate security protocols and to retrieve certain artifacts and research material.  Zeus, for his part, had grudgingly assented to this but had never-the-less assigned his brother a squad of ‘assistants’ to insure the process went smoothly and also see to it that  Poseidon did not go astray.

Atlas recalled the difficulty he had as he managed to rendezvous with his father in a remote lab of the facility after entering through a seldom used maintenance port.  They had but a few moments for their leave taking goodbyes.

My son, said Poseidon as he opened his arms, We have little time.

Atlas moved forward and wrapped his arms around his father.  As he did so their neural circuits interfaced and Poseidon began a massive download of data. 

There was no way I could risk transmitting this information, although if we could not have arranged this meeting I would have had little choice and all my plans may have been compromised.

As they broke their embrace Atlas stepped back, his eyes widening as he tried to assimilate and began to understand the ramifications of the huge amount of information he had received.  Father, he began This…this is incredible.  How is it possible you were able to accomplish this?

A muffled shouting came from outside the lab at some distance.  Poseidon slightly cocked his head as if listening and linked Atlas into his nonverbal commlink.

…not have separated from your escort Lord Poseidon.  Came a voice tinged with panic."

Don’t worry yourself. Poseidon shot back with a slight testy overtone. You were assigned to assist me, not as a nursemaid.  In any case I recalled that we stored a number of artifacts in this lab.  As I can hear your voices down the hall perhaps you could avail yourselves to join me so you can ‘assist’ me in removing them.

    Poseidon caught Atlas’ eye and pointed to a remote section of the lab.  Without a word Atlas turned and hurried toward the indicated area.  He found a doorway opening into a sizable alcove lined with storage shelves, ducked inside and turned off the lights.  A few seconds later a group of Olympians entered the lab and Poseidon quickly assigned them to remove several boxes and crates.  Within a few minutes they were all filing out of the lab with their burdens.  Poseidon was the last one out and turned around as if making a last check.  As his gaze passed over the alcove he gave a slight nod, then turned and was gone.  Such was the leave taking of father and son.

The king seldom had reason to visit the royal command center or either of its two auxiliary stations.  With his personal link to Metis, there was rarely a need for his physical presence although he did make a point of taking an inspection tour every ten years or so.  Atlantis had been functioning flawlessly for centuries thanks to his father’s remarkable design and Metis’ impeccable ministrations. 

Today, Atlas would utilize the room in a manner he had never before imagined.  There were two vital tasks for him to accomplish as quickly as possible.  First, he had to warn his people to evacuate the island; a task he knew the majority would not succeed in doing.  Second, he needed to bring the city’s defensive systems totally on line in an attempt to avert, or at the very least, mitigate the impending disaster bearing down upon them.

Metis, attend me.  He said in a low mellifluous voice. 

Instantly, a beautiful young woman stepped from behind a decorative column and approached Atlas.  Clad in a flowing white diaphanous robe, she moved with an ethereal grace.  Her eyes were hazel and hair fell in a reddish-auburn wave over her right shoulder to her waist. 

My lord Atlas, she said, stopping at his side, tilting slightly up to meet his troubled gaze, how may I be of service?

Initiate emergency control interface, personality profile, replied Atlas, Do you recognize my voice, Metis?

I recognize your voice, Lord Atlas.  Please enter your manual authorization code.

Atlas sat in the command chair which automatically adjusted to his body’s contour providing him a close feeling of weightlessness and punched his access code into the touchpad situated on one arm of the chair.  Sensors came on line and scanned the huge man down to the genetic level while also searching for unauthorized, clandestine implants which could compromise security or possibly even control their host. 

Metis approached the side of the chair and looked down as the scans completed, her eyes closed in a slow blink and as they reopened she said, I know your flesh, your blood and bone Milord.  You are whole and untainted.

Her right hand moved to Atlas’ face and rested there in an intangible caress.  Initiating cybernetic biofusion, I will know your mind, Lord

And I, yours, Metis, the great sovereign responded. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Atlas gave an inner chuckle at the formality of the process established between man and machine over the years.  While Metis was an incredibly advanced Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) and to outward appearances generated by her holographic avatar seemed a living breathing person, she/it was still a machine and devoid of sentience.

Millennia old laws and restrictions driven by terrible A.I./organic wars in the long distant past forbade any construction of a sentient machine and called for the immediate destruction of any which was discovered.  The only instance when a computer could ever be said to reach any level of self-awareness was during the process Atlas was now establishing; even then it was the organic component from which the gestalt persona derived consciousness. 

Chelated networks, molecular and sub-molecular circuits embedded throughout Atlas’ brain were establishing contact points and merging with the network of the Atlantean computer.  This process took no small effort on the part of Atlas, he had to consciously integrate the intricate support and command functions of a system which controlled all aspects of the island.  As his mind asserted more and more control, it began to expand capabilities and the combination of man and electronics fused into a single entity. 

Suddenly, a memory floated to the surface of their first linkage.  Atlas thought about how far he had come in the biofusion process with Metis.  The procedure was now taking just a few minutes where before when they had first started out it had taken hours of mind numbing, sweat drenched effort.  The swiftness and relative simplicity of the process was the culmination of a training program which began at the age of fifteen and had taken just under eight years combined with the addition of periodic cranial implants constructed in situ by tiny nanites known as viralmech.

Once completed, the user and the artificial intelligence could now work and think as one.  They shared thoughts and controlled all systems linked to the computer.  All aspects of the great island managed by Metis from the power grid to water works, sewage to telecommunications, traffic, personal com units, harbor control, everything, was now under Atlas’ direct control and awareness.  And still, even with Olympian super science, it was too much.  Despite the implants, a cognitive organic brain was not designed for such any more than it was designed to exert direct, conscious control over one’s body down to the cellular level.  Having established the linkage, Atlas now began to compartmentalize functions and in essence assigned Metis the duties of a hindbrain much the same as his organic equivalent controlled the autonomic systems of his body.  He could reestablish control over any aspect of the city in an instant, but for now was unburdened by such trivial matters such as flow rates and pressure of the water system. 

With a thought, Atlas accessed the communication systems.  Throughout the island an emergency signal was sent to all com devices to standby for a critical announcement.  The only components not immediately disrupted were military, law enforcement, medical and other safety related channels, but even those had an alert annunciator signifying an impending priority communiqué. 

Having served its purpose, Atlas arose from the command chair and strode over to another of the huge widows overlooking the city.  He paused for a brief moment, collected his thoughts and then turned to face inward thus providing an appropriate backdrop for the holographic imagers.  He composed himself in an effort to deliver the message as calmly and strongly as he could.  Atlas knew the content of the message would create alarm and even terror throughout the populace, but he wanted to deliver it as the strong, capable leader his people had come to trust and respect in order to mitigate the inevitable panic. 

Atlas took a breath, closed his eyes and mentally engaged the broadcast controls for every communication device on the island.  Using his deep resonant voice the king addressed his people, Citizens of Atlantis, please forgive this interruption; however, I bring grave news.  I shall not mince words but will simply say I have received information this morning of an impending attack on Atlantis.  The exact nature of this attack is unknown but the essential component of this threat is that a tremendous cataclysm shall be unleashed upon our island.  I believe it is highly probable that our civilization shall be destroyed within the next twenty four hours.  Considering the strength of our defenses, it seems incredible any conventional attack could seriously damage the city, however the origin of this information is extremely reliable and leaves little doubt of the danger.

Atlas gave his people a moment to process his words and then continued, As a result of this, I have given orders for the immediate evacuation of Atlantis.  Instructions are already in the process of being disseminated; women, children and select personnel have first priority.  Those individuals necessary for defense are being notified even as I speak.   

Atlas had to fight back the feeling of sorrow and anger brewing deep inside him in order to deliver as calming a message as possible.  He spoke with a very composed tone, "I know the strength and the heart and soul of my people.  There is no challenge to which you cannot overcome, no peril to which you will not rise and face.  I call on each and every one of you to support your neighbors, friends and those who are unknown to you but will need your help over the difficult hours to come.  If there is panic around you, I will count on you to help suppress it.

For those of you who feel anger, fear and betrayal at my words, know that I shall be with you for whatever befalls our fair land.  Evacuation stations have been established and reporting instructions have already been transmitted …

As the king continued to speak, presenting a calm, disciplined presence to the populace, the distressed sovereign could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth.  Never in his two hundred and seventy eight years of ruling this great nation did he once think he would be issuing an order to evacuate Atlantis. 

He always believed he had the power to protect his people and their civilization no matter the threat; it was inconceivable to him Atlantis could be destroyed.  Even in his disbelief; however, he was sure to alert the city’s safety services and prepared them for the impending crisis. 

Atlas was a charismatic ruler and a physically imposing figure.  His six foot two inch frame was supported by two thick and powerful legs, which seemed to explode downward from the bottom of his thigh length tunic.  The muscles on his legs bulged out in prominent relief and his calves were as thick as most men’s thighs.  He was a barrel-chested figure possessing pectoral muscles striated with wire like ridges as if carved by a master sculptor.  His massive shoulders were built as if to carry the world upon them and his broad upper body tapered down to a narrow waist in a notable ‘V’.  Enormous biceps and huge forearms terminated in mammoth hands which had crushed the skulls of mainland savages (who would later be known as Cro-magnon man) yet were delicate enough to have softly cradled his twin sons when they were just infants.  A regal head topped this considerable frame from which jutted a square jaw covered with a well-groomed salt and pepper beard accompanied by a thin mustache. An aquiline nose with flaring nares extended below piercing cobalt blue eyes shaded by thick, dark eyebrows.  Thick black hair which had only recently become speckled with gray descended in waiving curls to just above his shoulders.  He may have been showing a few signs of age, but he still possessed the strength of ten men and the intelligence to go with it.  An observer unfamiliar with him would find it hard to believe that he was almost three hundred years old. 

The Atlantean king detested the fact he could not address the fears of his people and answer their questions in person, but there was no time.  He had always been a very accessible ruler and truly loved his people.  This was not the way he wanted to end his rule. 

Solemnly, he finished his transmission, For those who are departing, I deeply regret I will not be able to join you as I will be coordinating the evacuation and the defense of our nation.  For those remaining I say again, whatever befalls Atlantis I will be here with you; no matter the outcome.

He began to move back towards the command chair as the Metis portion of his psyche alerted him to an unforeseen phenomena forming.  Her avatar moved toward him beckoning his return to the window. 

With a simple thought, he shut down the sonic dampeners and listened intently while external microphones relayed sounds from the city as if there were no barrier at all separating him and the outside.  At first it was a rising indiscernible jumble of sounds, but as the seconds passed it began to take on a rhythmic quality, increasing in volume. 

Looking out the window and down below, he observed a crowd gathering in and along several city streets.  Another mental command gave him video and audio access to the area outside the tower.  Immediately a roar of sound washed through him, and the cadenced rush of noise became clear as a single word was repeated over and over, punctuated each time with a fist thrust in the air, Atlas … Atlas … ATLAS …  The crowd roared their defiance to the oncoming disaster and their support for their leader.  Atlas gazed over the crowded streets and tears coursed down his cheeks.

My people, he whispered, "My great and wonderful people. 

Atlas physically braced himself, did an about face and again strode back to the command chair while wiping away the salty moisture on his face.  Getting maudlin in your doddering old age, he muttered to himself.  Got no time for tears with the work we’ve yet to do.   

They had only one opportunity at preserving the Atlantean civilization, so the decision was made to choose key scientists, military personnel, academia, selected individuals and families to provide as diverse a population base as possible.  Creating this selection dilemma was the fact there were not enough submersibles capable of evacuating a large percentage of Atlanteans.  The painstaking decision as to which people would be given the best chance to survive the impending cataclysm had already been made with the aid of Metis. 

These fortunate souls had already received their directives a few hours before and were assembling at the naval shipyards located in the outer water ring of the city for transport to a new home aboard Atlantis’ most advanced submersibles. 

Atlas gave a mental chuckle as he thought of a few high ranking politicians who would soon realize they were not among those chosen for transportation.  Their corrupt actions of the past would be coming back to haunt them.

Sinking once more into the chair’s embrace, his mind entered into an interfacial fugue state as he brought an increasing number of data and sensory inputs to the forefront of his consciousness.  Numerous holographic images popped into existence and arrayed themselves before him as an adjunct to visual processing being fed directly into his brain via his implants. 

Audio, visual, telemetry and a multitude of sensor data sang complex, harmonious, multilayered, counterpoints within his mind.  As his psyche expanded to encompass the entire island he began to exert his authority over his elite security force, the Sentinels, as well as other personnel involved in directing the evacuation.   

While numerous situations were being handled and contained there were certain events on which he focused a greater portion of his attention.  Occasionally he would project his own holographic avatar to various areas when he felt the force of his presence was needed.

His greater awareness was drawn to the outer harbor where thirty-four submersible ships ranging in size from small research craft capable of holding only two hundred people to five huge Titan transports, each capable of carrying over seven thousand souls, were being loaded. 

Every ship was taking on the maximum number of people possible; the only limitation being the capacity of the individual craft’s life support system required; allowing for a safe arrival to their destination. 

In the case of the massive transports, vaguely resembling huge elongated floating eggs, this still left an enormous amount of space for cargo.  Indeed, Atlas considered these great ships and their smaller cousins as the eggs from which their civilization would be reborn should Atlantis not survive the day.

Atlas observed several of the smaller vessels and one of the Titan transports had completed loading and were methodically making their way from the outer ring of the harbor to the entrance of the Magnus Canal.  Gazing at the departing vessels, Atlas took a moment from being the protective sovereign of Atlantis and took on the persona of concerned father.  As the massive vessel slowed, maneuvering to take its place in queue while awaiting the command to enter the Magnus Canal, his thoughts drifted back to his last moments with his sons.

Atlas had awakened Hesperon and Geldar within moments of returning to the palace from his morning meeting with their grandfather and explained the danger Atlantis was facing.  At first, they did not take him seriously, for Atlas had a good sense of humor and used it often with his sons.  This was short lived however and by his grim demeanor they quickly realized that their father was not playing a joke on them this time.  As expected, once they grasped the totality of the situation, they refused to obey the order to evacuate.  Far from being angry at their defiance, Atlas was filled with pride.  Putting a massive hand on each of their shoulders he rumbled softly in a voice thick with emotion, "You are grown men, not little boys anymore.  You know where my place is and where my duty lies.  Now, put your emotions aside and think.  Where do you belong and what is your duty?"

We belong with the evacuation fleet… Began Hesperon firmly.

And our duty lies with our people.  Geldar finished in the same determined voice as his brother.

The twins and their father shared a quiet, gentle moment, knowing that in all probability they would never see one another again.  Treasured memories raced between them and especially the thoughts of the mother and wife they loved who had died several decades earlier.  With one last embrace, father and sons departed to fulfill their respective duties.

Atlas’ memory of the morning events came and went in microseconds; it was time to get back to the crisis at hand.  He knew his sons were prepared to lead his people upon settling their new home should he not succeed in saving Atlantis.  He bid the memory farewell and placed any further thoughts about them firmly in the back of his mind.

The king watched as several of the smaller vessels had completed loading and were making their way to the Magnus Canal.  He also noted one of the smaller transports at the far pier had secured from its moorings and was maneuvering away from dock. 

One level of his multipartite mind thought it ‘odd’ this vessel was leaving before its scheduled departure in the evacuation plan.  Atlas sent a query to the docks when simultaneously a priority message, having satisfied Metis’ strict protocols, floated to his attention deflecting the oddity of the smaller vessel’s departure.

Regards to King Atlas.  Prime Archon Janorus reporting the first evacuee ships have departed and are holding in station in the Magnus Canal pending your order to proceed to open waters, they will not exit the canal until the order is given.

Short and to the point as usual, Atlas thought as a smile came to his face.  Doing a quick scan he saw that nothing was demanding his immediate attention and shifted his greater consciousness to a holocom on the docks.   

Janorus you old warhorse, he said as his grinning image formed a few feet from his startled friend. I wanted to wish you luck on your journey.  I am also currently sending the word to cycle the ships through the locks as fast as possible. 

Steely grey-blue eyes turned and glared at Atlas’ figure.  I’d have far better luck without you popping in out of nowhere, trying to give me a heart attack.  Janorus’ scowling visage broke into a return grin and his eyes softened.  At least come down out of that tower and give me a last embrace and one for your sons as well. 

Atlas had first served under the older man as an orderly upon his entry into military service, such being required by his royal birth.  Janorus had taken it as his solemn and righteous duty to ensure his future king knew the meaning of humility and service to others.  Not that the young scion had needed much direction in this regard, indeed out of all of the young nobles entrusted to his tender care, Atlas had been the most promising by far. 

When the time came in which the pupil surpassed the master and Janorus became the subordinate, he could have been no less proud had he been the young man’s father.  A long and enduring friendship had developed over the past couple of centuries during which an implicit bond of trust had also grown.

We both know where my place is, old friend; as yours is there on the docks.  In any case, the boys and I said our goodbyes this morning and I refuse to go through a second blubbering farewell.

Understood, Sire. The older man sighed, and then rallied himself.  "Hah!  But don’t be too sure of my necessity here.  Hesperon and Geldar have been handling matters quite well with precious little help from me.  They’ve decided to override your boarding instructions by the way.  Instead of being on the first Titan out they decided to be on the last one, with me. 

"I vetoed that on the spot whereupon they came back with a counterproposal in which they dug in their heels and we finally settled on to none of our mutual satisfaction.  Prince Hesperon lost a coin toss and will be on the first transport out and Prince Geldar on the last.  Actually, I did not put up much of a fight as it really does make sense, not having all the eggs in one basket so to speak."

"Not surprising and I rather thought they would pull something of this sort.  By the way, one of my remotes picked up an odd bit of activity at the far end of the docks around one of the medium research and resupply ships, the Euryale."

Aye Lord, replied Janorus with a frown and hard glint in his eyes.  In fact Prince Geldar headed down that way a few minutes ago to take care of it.  A bit of a scuffle over the boarding order I believe, nothing to concern yourself with.  We’ve been handling several related instances since boarding started.

Very well, I’ll leave it in your… Atlas broke off and a faraway look appeared on his face.  Just a moment.  A few seconds passed as Janorus watched his liege closely.

Zeus has lifted Olympus.

Janorus inhaled sharply.  They’ve flown the city?  Do you think they are planning an aerial attack?  That makes no sense, Lord.

No it doesn’t, Zeus knows full well our defenses cannot be breached in such a manner.  Atlas’ image shimmered then re-solidified as another display appeared beside his form.  Janorus’ eyes narrowed as he beheld the huge city-ship Olympus hovering over a flat topped, wedge shaped mountain using tractor arrays and engineering units apparently in an attempt to restore the mountain as much as possible to its original condition prior to its use as a landing base.  Searing beams of coherent light lanced down from Olympus fusing rock and knitting the gathering mound of rubble into a solid cap.

It appears my attention is required elsewhere.  Atlas said wryly.  "Take care of my people, my sons and yourself old friend.  I think I’ll be a bit too busy from now on to put in any more personal appearances.

Janorus smiled with a pained expression behind it and replied in a serious tone, I will take care of your sons and your people, Your Highness.  I only wish you were joining us.

Atlas replied, Old man, you and I have seen a lot in our time together and you know I must do this. 

Farewell lad, Janorus replied in a voice tight with emotion as the images of his king and Olympus winked out.

Focusing his attention once again on Olympus, Atlas assumed control over several multipurpose satellites redirecting their optics and other sensors to the huge ship.  Almost as an afterthought he checked their ephemeris data and sent a command for two of the platforms to shift their orbits in order to keep continuous surveillance.  He considered it strange that there was so little resistance in commandeering these assets but shuffled that datum off for later consideration.  Adding the resources of Lunar research station, he noticed that its tracking arrays had monitored the departure of two Olympian support ships out bound from Terra and Sol along the ecliptic.  He also noted the fact that the station's crew had been evacuated a few hours earlier by one of the departing ships and its equipment set to automatic under the direction of the lunar A.I. 

Reconstruction of the mountain had been ongoing for a little over an hour and it had become apparent that the process was more a matter of reassembly than a haphazard scooping up and fusing of surrounding material.  It was obvious that when the top of the ridge-like mountain had been converted to a base for the ship, it had been carved up in sections which had been placed nearby for possible future reconstruction.  The small fleet of manned and robotic engineering units had been sculpting and adding fine details so that it was already difficult to see that the finished parts were anything other than part of the natural landscape.  Atlas watched as the last of the recovered sections was tractored into place in preparation for rejoining, and thought that given a few hundred years of erosion even a close examination there would be no way to tell that the mountain had once served as a landing base for a gigantic alien starship. 

As he considered the dimensions of the hovering ship, an inner grin overcame Atlas.  He knew Olympus was designed as a huge interstellar research and terraforming ship capable of landing on the surface of a planet.  While it had formidable offensive and defensive capabilities it was not a warship.  It could generate enormous amounts of power but this was needed for life support, n-space and FTL engines, null-grav, shielding and any number of other energy drinking operations needed by a starship of its design.  It certainly has power to spare but not enough to mount an assault on Atlantis from orbit, break through the city’s shielding system, destroy it and then have enough power to leave Terra’s orbit and continue on an interstellar flight across the galaxy.   

Conversely, Atlantis was a huge floating, yet stable, platform and could draw vast amounts of power from its orichalcum and fusion reactors.  True she had little in the way of offensive weapons but her defenses were formidable and her energy ratio in relation to Olympus was staggering. 

The Atlantean king began to feel a bit more optimistic as to the outcome of the impending attack.  Reclining in his command chair Atlas ran numerous simulations pitting the two cities against each other and gave an almost negligible shake of his head as he recalled Janorus’ words.  It truly did not make sense; he must be missing something. 

Having completed their job, the finishing lasers abruptly snapped off.  A few of the units polishing up the mountain began to drift up to the hovering mother ship.  Atlas was contemplating the next probable sequence of events when a priority signal from Prince Geldar overrode all the intervening buffers and clamored for attention.

He immediately shifted a major portion of his attention back to the docks and began a snap recall of events, which had occurred there while he had been monitoring Olympus.  He was glad to see the escape submersibles were almost all loaded and most of them were heading into the mouth of the Magnus Canal. 

A priority communiqué from Geldar came in and he saw the raw fury on the face of the image appearing a few feet in front of his chair, Father!  It’s that dog’s son Ballatin.  He’s gathered a bunch of his cutthroat Terran pirates and they’ve commandeered one of the evacuation ships.

Calm yourself son, Atlas said with the crisp overriding voice of command. Slow down and give me a proper report.

Atlas’ younger son visibly took hold of himself and began to brief his father on the events which had unfolded on the docks regarding the pirating of the Euryale.  The king listened as he called up sensor logs of that particular section of the dock piecing it all together with his records and knowledge of the rogue legislator.

Hundreds of Terrans had been organized by Atlas’ political nemesis, Ballatin and a few of his legislative cronies.  Atlas had fought countless philosophical battles over the years with the skinny representative.  He had always suspected there was a nefarious side to the old government official, but could never substantiate his shady behavior.  His dark, narrow eyes and long, angular face did not help to promote a feeling of trust for the man.  Ballatin was well practiced in the art of self-indulgence.  This was one of several reasons he and the others were left off of the evacuation list.

Ballatin and his cohorts realized they could not coerce Atlanteans to breach the Poseidon Codes, but they knew Terrans