The Atlantis Plague (31 page)

Janus made some tea and handed it out, and now they sat, sipping their tea and talking in turn. After each person spoke, they paused to consider the others’ assertions.

Disagreements were never direct. It was so nice, Kate thought. The relaxed environment and collegiality made it so much easier to focus on the work, the theories.

All their civility aside, the group was, however, making no progress on Martin’s notes.

Their work had now focused on one particular page that contained some sort of code:

PIE = Immaru?

535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?

Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW

Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega

70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1979

Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?

Theories had been thrown around, and collectively shot down. Kate had begun to fear they were out of ideas.

Periodically, she heard banging from the engine room below, which was inevitably followed by a bout of cursing, always Shaw and David at each other. It only ended when Kamau spoke up in his deep baritone voice, always the same refrain interrupting the chorus of cursing and clanging: “Gentlemen, please!”

Kate wondered if there would be anything of the engine left when they were done.

Overall it sounded like a bar brawl belowdecks and a book club up above.

After yet another bout of intense banging and a final “Gentlemen, please!” from Kamau, David emerged from below, covered in grease.

“We’re almost there,” he said. “But that’s all the good news. We don’t have enough fuel to make it to the coast.”

Kate nodded. She considered bringing up Shaw’s plan to call his government, but she decided now wasn’t the time. David still seemed wound up. What would they do if these “pirates” showed up? Race down to their room, pass out guns and hope they could repel them? And that whoever killed Martin didn’t take a shot at her or David in the crossfire?

David headed toward the galley, probably to wash himself up.

Janus set his teacup down. “The part that puzzles me most is PIE = Immaru? It seems almost a comedic reference. Perhaps it is meant to throw off any nefarious readers? A sort of camouflage. We should consider omitting it—”

“What did you say?” David was out of the galley.

“I—”

David picked up the page with Martin’s code with his greasy hand.

Kate tried to snatch it from him. “David, you’re smudging it…”

“You know what this means?” David asked Kate.

“No. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. I know what the whole thing means. These aren’t scientific notations. They’re historical references.”

CHAPTER 64

Somewhere off the coast of Ceuta
Mediterranean Sea

David glanced at Kate and the two scientists, then read Martin’s code again.

PIE = Immaru?

535…1257 = Second Toba? New Delivery System?

Adam => Flood/A$ Falls => Toba 2 => KBW

Alpha => Missed Delta? => Delta => Omega

70K YA => 12.5K YA => 535…1257 => 1918…1979

Missing Alpha Leads to Treasure of Atlantis?

Was he right? Yes, he was certain of it. But he wouldn’t start with the first part—it was too out there, too… fantastic, even for him to believe.

“Will you please wash your hands?” Kate pleaded.

David lowered the page. “It’s not the Magna Carta—”

“It is to me. And it could be the key to finding a cure for the plague.” In that moment, David thought she couldn’t be any cuter. She sat on a white leather club chair in the lavish upper-deck saloon, the other two scientists sitting side by side on the adjacent couch. Three white porcelain cups, all half-full of a brown tea, sat on the coffee table before them. There was a faint smell from the galley: biscuits cooking. The whole scene seemed bizarre, like the aftermath of a brunch in a penthouse apartment in Dubai.

David handed her the page and walked back into the galley. He scrubbed his hands and thought again about the code. Yes, he was right. Below he heard banging sporadically in the engine room. Shaw and Kamau were almost finished. Then what? David had to figure out their next move. His decision was crucial and he felt the weight of it. If he guessed wrong, played into the hand of whoever had killed Martin and disabled the boat…

He walked back out. “You guys seriously don’t know what this is? You’re not messing with me?”

“No.”

The looks from the three scientists were skeptical at best, and David had to smile. “You mean you’ve got every scientist in the world on this and you need little ol’ me, a lowly grad-school dropout historian with a half-finished PhD to explain this thing for you?”

“I didn’t know you… Really, a PhD—”

“In European History at Columbia—”

“Why’d you drop out?” Kate asked, some of her skepticism waning.

“For… health reasons. In September of 2001.” Being buried under a building after a terrorist attack and a year of physical rehab wasn’t the typical “health reason,” but David wasn’t sure how else to describe it. That day had changed his life, his career. He had abandoned his academic life instantly, but he had never given up his love of history.

“Oh, right…” Kate said quietly.

“I told you once I liked history—a lot.” He wondered if she would remember the reference, his words in Jakarta.

“Yes, you did,” Kate said, still somber.

David grinned at her and tried to lighten the mood. “You know this is a big moment for historians—worldwide, both amateur and professional. I mean, we usually get consulted
after
the fact—after the global apocalypse. Can I just take a moment here, on behalf of historians everywhere, to simply bask in the glow of this?”

The serious look on Kate’s face softened, and she broke into a smile. “You bask on your own time, mister. Start talking or you won’t get consulted at all.”

David held his hands up. “Okay, just saying.” He took a second to collect his thoughts. His theory was that the code was a broad outline of human history, specifically of the major historical turning points. But… he would start with what he was most certain about. “First thing’s first: PIE is not pie or any other pastry. It’s a group of people.”

Blank stares greeted him.

“PIE stands for Proto-Indo-Europeans. They’re arguably one of the most important ancient groups in world history.”

“Proto…” Kate began. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Nor have I,” Dr. Chang said.

“I too am unfamiliar,” Dr. Janus said.

“They aren’t well known. The irony is that they are the precursor civilization for almost everyone living in Europe, the Middle East, and India today. In fact, half the world’s population is
directly descended
from Proto-Indo-European groups.”

Janus sat forward. “How do you know? The gene pool—”

David held up his hand. “We historians have another tool, just as important as the gene pool. It’s passed down from generation to generation. We can mark changes in it across time, and we can trace its dispersal across the world—it changes in different places.”

None of the three scientists offered a guess or comment.

“Language,” David said. “We know that almost everyone in Europe, the Middle East, and India speaks a language that is descended from a common root language: the Proto-Indo-European language, which was spoken by a single group, the Proto-Indo-Europeans, about eight thousand years ago. We believe these people lived in either Anatolia or the Eurasian Steppes—that’s present day Turkey or southwestern Russia.”

“Fascinating…” Janus mumbled as he glanced out the window.

“David, it’s interesting, but I’m just not sure how this would connect with the plague,” Kate said gently.

Janus glanced at David, then Kate. “I agree, but I for one would very much like to hear more about this.”

David gave Kate a look that said,
At least someone around here appreciates me.

Janus continued, “I have two questions. First: how do you know what you’re saying is true?”

“Well we didn’t even know about the PIE until 1870 when a British judge named William Jones was assigned to India. Jones was a brilliant scholar and linguist. He knew Greek and Latin and began studying Sanskrit—mostly to familiarize himself with native Indian laws, many of which were written in Sanskrit. Jones made a remarkable discovery: Sanskrit and the ancient classical Western languages were eerily similar. This was completely unexpected. As he further compared Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin, he realized that they all had a common ancestral language. Here we have three languages, separated by thousands of miles and thousands of years of development, yet they had all evolved from a common root language: what we now call the Proto-Indo-European language. Jones was a true scholar, and he dug deeper into the mystery. The revelations were shocking. Other languages were also Proto-Indo-European, and not just obscure ones: every major root language from India to Great Britain. Latin, ancient Greek, Norse, Runic, Gothic—they’re all derived from the Proto-Indo-European language. The list of modern-day languages is extensive. All the Germanic languages, including Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, German, English—”

“Wait, English is a Germanic language?” Kate asked.

“Yes, of course. The English are descended from Germanic tribes, well mostly. The Angles and Saxons were Germanic tribes that settled the west coast of Britain in the fifth century. You’ve got the Norman invasion in the eleventh century, but the Normans were also a Germanic tribe—Norman literally means “north men”—who invaded and settled the north of France, now Normandy. France is really a mix of Franks—another Germanic tribe—and some Celtic and Latin peoples. When the Normans invaded Britain, it was actually the descendants of one Germanic tribe attacking another. But back to Great Britain. You’ve got some Gaelic and Celtic elements present, but the Angles and Saxons gradually displaced them, especially after the Plague of Justinian, which I believe is the third part of the code—”

Janus held his hand up and spoke softly. “If you would indulge us a moment, I would like to hear more about the PIE. You said there were other derivative languages?”

“Oh yeah, tons of them. All the Italic languages: Italian, French, Portuguese, Spanish… let’s see… all the Slavic languages: Russian, Serbian, Polish. What else, Balkan languages. Of course Greek; the Greeks were PIE descendants. Sanskrit, as I mentioned; Hindi, Farsi, Pashto. There are also tons of extinct PIE languages. Hitite, Tocharian, Gothic. In fact, scholars have been able to work backwards to actually reconstruct the Proto-Indo-European language. And that’s actually the basis of about everything we know about them. They had words for horse, wheel, farming, animal breeding, snow-capped mountains, and for a sky god.”

David paused, not sure what to add next. “In general we know the PIE were extremely advanced for their time—their use of horses, the wheel, tools, and agriculture made them a force in the region, and their descendants went on to dominate the world from Europe to India. As I said, today roughly half the world speaks a Proto-European language. In many ways, they are the ultimate lost civilization.” David stopped again, then glanced at Janus. “You said you had two questions?”

Janus was deep in thought. After a second, he realized the room was waiting for him. “Oh yes. I… would like to know… where they are now.”

“That’s the real mystery. We’re not even sure where to look for them. What we know of them is based on language reconstruction and myths—specifically the mythology they passed down to their descendant groups along with their language. Those are the tools of history: language, stories, and artifacts. In this case we don’t have many artifacts, just their language and myths.”

“Myths?” Janus said.

“Here again, we’re reconstructing the past based on shared myths across cultures—these are instances where the same story appears with slight changes. Obviously the names are changed, but the shape of the narrative is the same. One common belief is that there were two progenitors of mankind: brothers, sometimes twins. For the Indic, it was Manu and Yemo; the Germanic have tales of Mannus and Ymir. These mythologies were eventually incorporated into histories. For the Romans, Remus and Romulus; the Hebrews, Cain and Abel. Another common myth is that of the Great Flood—it appears in some form in every PIE culture. But overwhelmingly, the most common myth is that of an epic battle ending with the slaying of a serpent, usually a dragon of some sort.”

Chang picked up the page. “It seems Dr. Grey had some inkling of who the PIE were. What does it mean: PIE = Immaru? I am not familiar with Immaru.”

David looked at Kate.
Do we tell them?

Kate didn’t hesitate. “The Immaru are, or more likely were, a group of monks in the mountains of Tibet. After the incident in China, where David was almost killed, they rescued us.”

Chang winced, and David thought he was going to say something, maybe an apology, but Kate continued.

“I talked with several of the monks. A younger one, Milo, took care of us, and an older monk, Qian, showed me an ancient artifact: a tapestry. He believed it was a historical document that had been passed down for generations, thousands of years. It depicted four floods. The first was a flood of fire, which I believe to be the Toba Catastrophe—a volcanic eruption seventy thousand years ago that changed the human race. The tapestry showed a god saving a dying band of humans. The god gave them his blood. I believe that depiction was an allegory, a representation of a gene therapy an Atlantean gave those dying humans. That gene—the Atlantis Gene—helped that small band of humans survive in the volcanic winter that followed.”

Dr. Chang nodded vigorously. “This matches the Immari assumption—that the Atlantis Gene was introduced seventy thousand years before present and that it caused the cataclysm: a change in brain wiring that set the human race apart from other hominins.”