During the Decade of Plagues, pandemics brought civilization to a standstill. The only way out was the Aspis chip: a wearable mRNA vaccine factory, able to immunize you against new viruses on the fly. But not everyone wanted it. They created an open alternative: Darkome, an underground community of biohackers modifying their own genes and bodies. Inara came of age in a Darkome village - but only an Aspis could keep her rare cancer in check, updating her immune system at a pace with her cancer's evolution. Accepting it went against everything Darkome stood for. She had to choose between her community and her life. Now Inara's Aspis appears to have malfunctioned. She can edit her own DNA to be stronger, faster, smarter. It could be the genetic breakthrough of the millennium, but only if she can figure out how it works . . . and to stay ahead of those who will stop at nothing to possess her secret. Pursued by Aspis, Darkome radicals and the government, her new abilities may be the only way for Inara to survive. But they may cost her everything, including her humanity.

This trip was ordered by the great Elders of Nor themselves. I was to capture and bring to trial that unwise but accomplished fiend, Sathanas, Ruler of the planet Satana. Sathanas, though a younger member of the God Race, had started his own private revolt against all authority - and the dicta of the Elders are not so lightly flaunted by any upstarts a few score centuries old.

This book is Childress' thorough examination of the early hollow earth stories of Richard Shaver, and the fascination that fringe fantasy subjects such as lost continents, UFOs, and the hollow earth have had on people. Shaver's rare 1948 book, I Remember Lemuria is reprinted in its entirety, and the book is packed with illustrations from Ray Palmer's Amazing Stories issues of the 1940s. Childress discusses famous hollow earth books and delves deep into whatever reality may be behind the stories of tunnels underground.

I was working in the studio of Artan Gro when I heard a great laugh behind me. If ever there was derision in a laugh, there was derision in this one. I flung down my gaudy brushes and my palette and turned about in a rage—to find the master himself, his red cave of a mouth wide open in his black beard. I cooled my temper with an effort; for great indeed is Artan Gro, master artist of Sub Atlan. "I am sorry, Mutan Mion," he gasped, "but I can't control my laughter. No one ever has conceived, much less executed, anything worse than what you have put upon canvas! What do you call it, 'Proteus in a Convulsive Nightmare'?" But Artan Gro could control himself, I was sure. It is one of the things I have learned of the really great in the arts; they make no pretenses. He was laughing because he wanted to tell me frankly what he thought of my ability as an artist. It is bad enough when your friends mock your work (and they had), but when the master is convulsed with laughter it is high time to wake up to the truth. "It is true, great Artan Gro," I said humbly. "I want to paint but I cannot. I haven't the ability." Artan Gro's expression softened. He smiled, and as he smiled it was as though he had turned on the sunlight. "Go," he said, "go; to the deeper caverns at Mu's center. Once there study science; learn to mix the potions that give the brain greater awareness, a better rate of growth." He patted my shoulder and added a last bit of advice. "Once you have mixed the potions, take them. Drink them—and grow!" He passed on, still chuckling. Why is the truth always so brutal? Or does it just seem brutal when it comes from those wiser than you? I slunk from the studio; but I had already determined to take his advice. I would go to Tean City, at Mu's center. I would go to the science schools of the Titans. Never before had I considered leaving Sub Atlan, my birthplace, or as I should express it, my growth place, for I am a culture man, a product of the laboratories. In fact, I remember no other place on Mu, although it is a fact that during the process of my development to culture manhood, I roamed the culture forests of Atlantis, which is the name for Surface Atlan. Sub Atlan is just below Atlantis, while Tean City is located at the center of Mu, at a great depth below Sub Atlan. The walls of the great cavern in which Tean City is located are hardened to untellable strength by treatment with ray-flows which feed its growth until it is of great density. There are many other cities which grew through the centuries to vast size, but none so great as Tean City. Some are abandoned, but all are indestructible; their cavern walls too dense to penetrate or to collapse. Since Tean City is located near the center of Mother Mu, gravity neutralizes itself by opposition. It is very comfortable. Many of the Titans live there, and in fact, it is almost a Titan city. There also are the mighty ones, the Elders of the Atlan race's government. Huge they are, like great trees, many centuries old and still growing. I had long wished to see them, and now that I had decided to go, the thrill was greater than any I had ever experienced, I was going down into the city of many wonders!