ATLANTIS

series book ONE

by

Bob Mayer

PART I THE  PAST  

   

 

THE DROUGHT AD 800 ANGKOR KOL KER

It was well into the first month of the wet season but not a drop of rain

had fallen. Concern in the first week had turned to fear by the fourth week. As

the water level of the deep moat fell, so did the will of the occupants of the

capitol city. Anxiety was spreading like a sickness from person to person and

mother to babe.

The city had taken the people over five hundred years to build. Within its

watery protection lay all their wealth, memories and the graves of ten

generations of their ancestors. It was the most advanced and beautiful city on the

face of the planet.

Thousands of miles to the west, Charlemagne was being crowned

Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire in the Eternal City, but this place deep in

the jungles of Southeast Asia dwarfed even Rome in comparison. It was the

center of kingdom extending south to about the Srivijayan Empire of Sumatra

and the Shailandra Empire of Java. To the northeast, the Tang Dynasty of China

ruled, while to the west, in the Middle East, the tide of Islam was rising. The

capitol city of Angkor Kol Ker, the heart of the Khmer empire, held architecture

the likes of which Europe would not see for half a century. But within the empire

lay a Shadow--a dark place, which closed off all travel toward India and the

world beyond.

The ancestors of the Khmer people had traveled halfway around the globe

to avoid the shadow and for many generations they had seemingly foiled the

force that had destroyed their original homeland. That place had birthed the

Ones Before; the ones who knew the secrets of the Shadow. Secrets that their

descendants had forgotten or remembered only as myth. But two generations

ago, myth and legend reappeared in the lives of the Khmer. The Shadow had

appeared in the mountainous jungle to the northwest, sometimes coming close,

sometimes almost disappearing, but always stopping at the water. Now the

water was disappearing.

The Emperor and his advisers gazed toward the mist-covered jungle

beyond the evaporating moat knowing the Shadow had removed their choices as

quickly as the sun took away the water. They spotted a fire from the guard tower

on top of a northern mountain that poked above the mist. The fire burned for

two nights, then went out and never came back.

The Emperor knew it was time. The Ones Before had written thousands of

years ago of abandoning their home. He knew the cost of quitting the city. The

Ones Before had chosen a hard thing to save the people. The next morning, the

Emperor issued the order to evacuate the city.

Wagons were piled high, packs were placed on backs, and en masse,

almost the entire population of the city crossed the lone causeway and trekked

away to the south.

Fifty strong men remained. Warriors, standing tall, spears, swords and

bows in hand, they had chosen to represent all the people of the Khmer. The

would face the Shadow, so the city would not die alone. They destroyed the

causeway and waited on the northern edge of the city, staring across at the dark

mist that approached. It grew ever closer despite their prayers that the clouds

would come overhead and rain would fall, filling the moats.

The men had been tested in battle numerous times. Against the Tang

people to the northeast, and the people of the sea along the coast to the south,

they had fought many battles and won most, expanding the kingdom of the

Khmer. But the warriors of the Khmer had never invaded the jungle-covered

mountains to the northwest. They had never within living memory gone in that

direction, nor had any intrepid traveler from the lands on the other side come

through.

The warriors were brave men but even the bravest's heart quavered each

morning as the mist grew closer, and the water still lower. One morning they

could see the stone bottom of the moat and only puddles were left, drying under

the fierce sun. The moat was over four hundred meters wide and surrounded the

entire rectangle of buildings and temples, stretching four miles north and south

and eight miles east and west.

Inside the moat, a high stonewall enclosed the city. Over 200,000 people

had called Angkor Kol Ker home, and their absence reverberated through the

city, a heavy weight on the souls of the last men. The tread of the warriors’

sandals on the stone walkways echoed against the walls of the temples. Gone

were the happy cries of children playing, the chants of priests, the yells of

merchants in their stalls. And now even the jungle sounds were disappearing as

every animal that could flee did so.

In the center of the city was the central temple, Angkor Ker. The center

Prang of the temple was over five hundred feet of vertical, massive stone, a

hundred feet taller than the Great Pyramid of Giza. It had taken two generations

to construct and its shadow lay long over the city as the sun rose in the east,

merging with the Shadow that crept closer from the west.

As the last puddle dried, tendrils of the thick mist crossed the moat. The

warriors said their prayers loudly, so their voices would prove to the gathering

Shadow that this was a city well loved. Angkor Kol Ker and the fifty men waited.

They did not wait long.

FLIGHT 19 AD 1945

FORT LAUDERDALE AIR STATION

“Sir, I request stand-down from this afternoon's training flight.”

Captain Henderson looked up from the papers on his desk. The young

man standing in front of him wore starched khakis, the insignia of a corporal in

the Marine Corps sewn onto the short sleeves. On his chest were campaign

ribbons dating back to Guadalcanal.

“You have a reason, Corporal Foreman?” Henderson asked. He didn't add

that Lieutenant Presson, the leader of Training Flight 19 had just been in his

office making the same request. Henderson had denied the officer's immediately,

but Foreman was a different matter.

“Sir, I've got enough service points to be mustered out in the next week or

so.” Foreman was a large man, broad shouldered. His dark hair was swept back

in thick waves, flirting with regulations, but with the war just a few months over,

some rules had waned in the euphoria of victory.

“What does that have to do with the flight?” Henderson asked.

Foreman paused and his stance broke slightly from the parade rest he had

assumed after saluting. “Sir, I--”

“Yes?”

“Sir, I just don't feel good. I think I might be sick.”

Henderson frowned. Foreman didn't look sick. In fact his tan skin radiated

health. Henderson had heard this sort of thing before, but only before combat

missions, not a training flight. He looked at the ribbons on Foreman's chest,

noted the Navy Cross and bit back the hasty reply that had formed on his lips.

“I need more than that,” Henderson said, softening his tone.

“Sir, I have a bad feeling about this flight.”

“A bad feeling?”

“Yes, sir.”

Henderson let the silence stretch out.

Foreman finally went on. “I had a feeling like this before. In combat.” He

stopped, as if no further words were required.

Henderson leaned back in his seat, his fingers rolling his pencil end over

end.

“What happened then, corporal?”

“I was on the Enterprise, sir. Back in February. We were scheduled to do

an attack run off the coast of Japan. Destroy everything that was floating. I went

on that mission.”

“And?”

“My entire squadron was lost.”

“Lost?”

“Yes, sir. They all disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No survivors?”

“Just my plane's crew, sir.”

“How did you get back?”

“My plane had engine trouble. The pilot and I had to bail out early. We

were picked up by a destroyer. The rest of the squadron never came back. Not a

plane. Not a man.”

Henderson felt a chill tickle the bare skin below his own regulation

haircut. Foreman’s flat voice, and the lack of detail, bothered the captain.

“My brother was in my squadron,” Foreman continued. “He never came

back. I felt bad before that flight, Captain. As bad as I feel right now.”

Henderson looked at the pencil in his hand. First, Lieutenant Presson with

his feelings of unease and now this. Henderson's instinct was to give Foreman

the same order he'd given the young aviator. But he looked at the ribbons one

more time. Foreman had done his duty many times. Presson had never been

under fire. Foreman was a gunner, so his presence would make no difference one

way or the other. “All right, corporal, you can sit the flight out. But I want you to

be in the tower and work the monitoring shift. Are you healthy enough to do

that?”

Foreman snapped to attention. There was no look of relief on his face, just

the same stoic Marine Corps stare. “Yes, sir.”

“You're dismissed.”

End of Excerpt

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Next in the Series Book Two

Atlantis Bermuda Triangle

About  the  Author    

NY  Times  bestselling  author  Bob  Mayer  has  had  over  50  books  published.    He  has  

sold   over   four   million   books,   and   is   in   demand   as   a   team-­‐building,   life-­‐changing,   and  

leadership  speaker  and  consultant   for  his  Who  Dares  Wins:    The  Green  Beret  Way   concept,  

which  he   translated   into  Write   It  Forward:  a  holistic  program   teaching  writers  how   to  be  

authors.    He  is  also  the  Co-­‐Creator  of  Cool  Gus  Publishing,  which  does  both  eBooks  and  Print  

On  Demand,  so  he  has  experience  in  both  traditional  and  non-­‐traditional  publishing.      

His   books   have   hit   the   NY   Times,   Publishers   Weekly,   Wall   Street   Journal   and  

numerous   other   bestseller   lists.   His   book   The   Jefferson   Allegiance,   was   released  

independently  and  reached  #2  overall  in  sales  on  Nook.  

Bob  Mayer  grew  up  in  the  Bronx.  After  high  school,  he  entered  West  Point  where  he  

learned   about   the   history   of   our   military   and   our   country.   During   his   four   years   at   the  

Academy  and  later  in  the  Infantry,  Mayer  questioned  the  idea  of  “mission  over  men.”  When  

he  volunteered  and  passed  selection  for  the  Special  Forces  as  a  Green  Beret,  he  felt  more  at  

ease  where  the  men  were  more  important  than  the  mission.    

Mayer’s   obsession   with   mythology   and   his   vast   knowledge   of   the   military   and  

Special  Forces,  mixed  with  his  strong  desire  to  learn  from  history,  is  the  foundation  for  his  

science   fiction   series  Atlantis,  Area  51   and  Psychic  Warrior.  Mayer   is   a  master  at  blending  

elements   of   truth   into   all   of   his   thrillers,   leaving   the   reader   questioning  what   is   real   and  

what  isn’t.  

He   took   this   same   passion   and   created   thrillers   based   in   fact   and   riddled   with  

possibilities.   His   unique   background   in   the   Special   Forces   gives   the   reader   a   sense   of  

authenticity  and  creates  a  reality  that  makes  the  reader  wonder  where  fact  ends  and  fiction  

begins.  

In  his  historical  fiction  novels,  Mayer  blends  actual  events  with  fictional  characters.  

He  doesn’t  change  history,  but  instead  changes  how  history  came  into  being.  

Mayer’s  military  background,   coupled  with  his  deep  desire   to  understand   the  past  

and  how  it  affects  our  future,  gives  his  writing  a  rich  flavor  not  to  be  missed.  

Bob  has  presented  for  over  a  thousand  organizations  both  in  the  United  States  and  

internationally,   including   keynote   presentations,   all   day   workshops,   and   multi-­‐day  

seminars.     He   has   taught   organizations   ranging   from   Maui   Writers,   to   Whidbey   Island  

Writers,  to  San  Diego  State  University,  to  the  University  of  Georgia,  to  the  Romance  Writers  

of  America  National  Convention,   to  Boston  SWAT,   the  CIA,  Fortune-­‐500,   the  Royal  Danish  

Navy  Frogman  Corps,  Microsoft,  Rotary,  IT  Teams  in  Silicon  Valley  and  many  others.    He  has  

also   served  as   a  Visiting  Writer   for  NILA  MFA  program   in  Creative  Writing.    He  has  done  

interviews   for   the  Wall   Street   Journal,   Forbes,   Sports   Illustrated,   PBS,   NPR,   the   Discovery  

Channel,   the   SyFy   channel   and   local   cable   shows.     For   more   information   see  

www.bobmayer.org.    

   

 

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.

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ATLANTIS, series book one

COPYRIGHT © 1999 by Bob Mayer, Updated 2011

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any

manner without written permission from the author (Bob Mayer, Who Dares

Wins) except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or

reviews.