The Lost Code (30 page)

NIGHT FELL, COLD AND DAZZLING WITH STARS. I
brought the craft down low, a few hundred meters above the ground. The dark was complete, the way it would get outside of Hub, though now and then we did pass over some little light flickering in a gully or a window. A solitary family, a band of travelers. I wondered if they noticed our ghostly blue light speeding overhead and puzzled over what we were.

We decided to wait until morning to figure out where we’d go next. Leech needed to draw some maps. I’d suggested we head for Hub, to get supplies, and to see Dad. Lilly wasn’t sure yet. So, for the night, we were just flying due west, based on Leech’s reading of the stars.

A silence settled over us for a while, the magnitude of what we’d done, and what we’d left behind, sinking in.

Later, I looked over to Lilly, who was lying back, staring up at the stars. She noticed me noticing her.

“You’re right,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“The stars are brighter out here. I can’t even find Orion.”

“You actually can’t see it in the summer except right before dawn,” said Leech, like he had a star map in his brain. “Aaron just kept it out all the time ’cause he liked it.”

“Oh,” said Lilly, sounding a touch annoyed or disappointed. But then she added, “Thanks.” She turned to me. “Speaking of which . . .” I felt her hand slip into mine, her fingers rubbing my knuckles. “Thanks again for saving me.”

I smiled. “How many times did I drown? I owed you.”

“What we just did was crazy.”

“Yeah, but it worked.”

“Unless we actually hit the water back there and this is just the pleasant journey to nirvana,” said Leech from the front of the craft.

“I think we made it,” I said.

Lilly took my hand and put it to her face, to her cool, smooth cheek. She smiled, but her eyes were serious. “You should have left me.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“But”—Lilly sat up on her elbows—“you heard what I said. I never saw the siren. I’m sorry I lied.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re here.” I thought to lean in and kiss her again. Started to—

“What’s this siren you keep talking about?” asked Leech. I glanced at him and saw that he had a little smirk, like he knew he’d been interrupting. Having him around all the time was going to get old fast.

“You know,” I said to him. “The blue girl, the vision. Underwater, or in the temple.” Leech’s brow scrunched. “You might have seen her somewhere different,” I added.

“Or,” said Leech, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just grew gills and knew how to draw maps of the world the way it looked ten thousand years ago. I never saw anything like your siren girl. You sure she wasn’t some little fantasy of yours?”

“I didn’t make her up,” I said, but now I had to wonder. Was I really the only one seeing her? And so was she even real? “Hey,” I said to Lilly, “if Leech hasn’t seen her either, maybe she’s just a part of my awakening. You might still be the third Atlantean.”

“Maybe,” said Lilly, “but I’ve never felt like one. Not the way you have. The way both of you
know
things? That hasn’t happened to me.”

“Well, but, maybe it will, the closer we get.”

Lilly just shrugged. She sat up and closed her eyes at the breeze. “Man, this air is so dry. Sweet-smelling, too. Free air. I love it.”

She turned toward me. We kissed. It was already a little familiar, the taste of it, the movements, and that only made it better.

“Ugh, this is going to be unbearable,” Leech groaned.

We kept kissing just to spite him but then stopped because we could feel him watching.

“Um . . . ,” said Leech.

Lilly pulled away. “What?”

“I’m not going to kiss either of you,” he said, “but thanks for coming back for me.”

“Sure,” I said.

Leech’s expression darkened. “I thought I knew Paul. He was so patient with me. We’d been working on those maps for years, me drawing down in that navigation room. I thought I was important, like part of the team. But then when you guys found that skull, it was like everything changed. He had me try to talk to it, or whatever you do, and when I said it didn’t work, he hooked me up to those machines like I was one of his lab rats or something.”

“We know the feeling,” I said. I also thought back on how Leech had acted toward me, and realized that at least some of it was because he’d been feeling left out himself, something I could relate to.

Lilly was gazing out behind us. “You can’t even see it,” she said. “It was my whole world, for so long, and now it’s not even on the horizon.” She sighed. “Feels good.”

“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure what I felt. We’d escaped, but that only meant that we didn’t know what came next.

“Good luck, guys,” Lilly said quietly. I figured she was thinking of Evan, Marco, and Aliah.

“I’m sure they’ll get out,” I said, but I also realized that if Aaron wasn’t on our side, that south hatch might never have been open.

“Yeah,” said Lilly. “We have some contacts in the city that could help them. I’m not worried. They’re my people.”

I rubbed her back as her gaze stayed distant.

“They’re gonna be after us,” said Leech. I’d had that thought, too. “Paul and his team. We’re the key to his entire plan, and he’s not going to stop until he has us.”

“Do you know what the Paintbrush of the Gods is?” I asked him.

Leech shrugged. “Not specifics. Only that it’s something Paul thinks can save the world, or whatever.”

“What if he’s right?” Lilly asked.

“Then we find out on our own,” I said. “We find Atlantis, the Heart of the Terra, and we decide.”

“Sounds good.” Lilly slid up beside me and put her arms around my shoulders. She leaned against my back, and I was glad to protect her from the wind, and glad for her warmth.

We watched the shadow world slide by below, the stars above. After a while, Leech dozed off, curled into a little ball in the bow of the craft. I was exhausted, but determined to keep going until dawn.

“Ooh!” Lilly whispered into my ear.

“What?”

She was looking up. “Shooting star,” she said. “My first one.”

“Cool. Did you make a wish?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

She kissed my cheek then pressed hers there, our faces in the wind together. “Because right now is what I want.”

I leaned my head into her. Soon, she fell asleep, and sometime after that, the moon slipped up from the horizon, dimming the stars with its brilliant white. It was wide and full, just like it would have been on the dome wall, but brighter and more stunning than that projection had ever been.

I thought about waking Lilly to see it, but she was deep asleep, breathing lightly in my ear, her chin on my shoulder.

So, I read the wind’s changes and pulled in on the sails—the Aeronaut, keeping us heading west, over the dark earth. The moon arced overhead, painting the ground in silver and black. I felt the frigid breeze on my face, the warmth on my back, and thought that I agreed with Lilly. Tomorrow we would deal with what we were, and where on earth we needed to go, but for tonight, right now was what I wanted, too.

ANY BOOK THAT INVOLVES KIDS GROWING GILLS
at a summer camp full of robotic butterflies inside a dome that sits atop a ten-thousand-year-old temple is probably a work of fiction. That said, to create Owen’s world I did read a number of fascinating books about climate change. If you are interested in what scientists think may happen in our lifetime, you might like reading
The Weather of the Future
by Heidi Cullen,
The World in 2050
by Laurence C. Smith, or
The Flooded Earth
by Peter D. Ward. I also read a number of astounding books about ancient civilizations and what Atlantis may really have been. Again, if this kind of thing interests you, check out
Fingerprints of the Gods
by Graham Hancock,
The Atlantis Blueprint
by Colin Wilson and Rand Flem-Ath, and
Technology of the Gods
by David Hatcher Childress. With either subject, these books are just the tip of the (melting) iceberg.

When it comes to thank-yous, I feel like pretty much everyone I’ve ever known has in some way played a role in this book’s existence, but a few people stand out.

To my family: my parents and my brother and all the Emersons and Petersons and Cloughertys and Hubers, who are always so supportive and excited to hear what I’m working on; Willow and Elliott for letting their dad go off again and again to toil at the coffee shop and for being bundles of magic when he returns; and Annie, most of all, who through thick and thin continues to think all this is a good idea, whose love and effort makes every sentence possible, and who is always first reader.

To George Nicholson, who always listens patiently to my wild ideas, and also to Erica Silverman, Kelly Farber, and everyone at Sterling Lord Literistic for their heroic work finding wonderful homes for my stories.

To Katherine Tegen, who took a chance on me and has been a thrill to work with, as well as Katie Bignell, Amy Ryan, and the rest of the team at Harper for making this lovely book from my words!

To Margery Walshaw, whose tough questions and good ideas on a long drive between Beverly Hills and Burbank led to the key plot breakthrough of this series.

To my Seattle writing community: Liz Gallagher, whose prose inspires and who gave this book its first vote of confidence; Martha Brockenbrough, whose keen eye illuminates potential I didn’t even know was there; the gang from SCBWI WWA, who have welcomed me into their inspiring group; Suzanne, Christy, Tegan, and the rest of the passionate and wise Seattle booksellers who have been so supportive; and all the fabulous librarians I’ve met in the Northwest.

To the amazing educators, whose work is so vital, and who I am so lucky to work with: Kylie Kypreos and the talented, dedicated teachers at Catharine Blaine K–8, whose seventh and eighth graders astound me with their writing and teach me about my audience in the process; Rebecca Hoogs, Jeanine Walker, and the staff at Seattle Arts & Lectures, as well as the dazzling teaching artists of Writers in the Schools; Margot Case and the team at Richard Hugo House; and Teri Hein and the exceptional volunteer crew at 826 Seattle.

And finally: Approximately 95 percent of this book was written at a small round table (or one of the four other suitable window seats if that table wasn’t available) at the Caffe Ladro in Fremont, Seattle. Many thanks to Carolyn, Jessica, Joe, Sarah, Alana, and Keegan for cup after cup of “drip” in the special mug (are those apples or cherries?) and for humoring this regular.

This too: 80 percent of this book was written to a playlist of Aimee Mann, Elliott Smith, Beck, Ben Folds, and Neko Case, 10 percent to a Pandora station based on Perez Prado, and the final 10 percent to Medeski Martin & Wood’s Radiolarians albums. Most of this book was revised to the New Pornographers.

100 percent of the original “ideas” in this book owe heavily to prior genius, mainly the work of Joss Whedon, Lucas and Spielberg, the writers of
Lost
, Kurt Vonnegut, Poe, and I could go on and on. If you think of one I missed, drop me a line. What’s more fun than geeking out about influences?

Oh, and one more thing: if you were in my mind, you would see that Camp Eden, temples, sirens, and secret labs notwithstanding, looks just like my own summer camp, Camp Jewell, in Colebrook, Connecticut. Some of the more down-to-earth things that happen in this book happened there, and, I don’t know, I just think that’s kinda cool.

KEVIN EMERSON
is the author of the Oliver Nocturne series and
CARLOS IS GONNA GET IT
. He is also a musician and has most recently released two albums with his band the Board of Education. A former science teacher in Boston, Kevin now lives in Seattle and teaches writing to teens through Writers in the Schools, Richard Hugo House, and 826 Seattle. The world of the Atlanteans was inspired by his college studies in biology and ecology and a continued interest in environmental issues as well as his experiences at summer camp. You can visit Kevin online at www.kevinemerson.net and on Facebook and Twitter.

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Cover art © 2012 by Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.

Cover design by Sarah Hoy and Ann Zeak

Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

The Lost Code: Book One of the Atlanteans

Copyright © 2012 by Kevin Emerson

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ISBN 978-0-06-206279-6

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FIRST EDITION

EPub Edition © MARCH 2012 ISBN: 9780062062819