The Midas Legacy (Wilde/Chase 12) (3 page)

‘The UN grapevine’s as quick as it ever was, I see,’ she said, standing to shake his hand. ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Three years, I believe. How is Macy?’

‘Three years, I believe,’ Nina echoed, grinning. ‘No, she’s great. Very precocious.’

He smiled. ‘I am not surprised.’

‘I understand you’re responsible for getting me involved with this operation?’

‘I am certain Lester would have remembered in due course that you and Eddie have personal knowledge of the temple’s interior,’ said Seretse, greeting Blumberg. ‘After all, everyone at the IHA has surely read your book.’

‘Of course,’ Blumberg replied, hastily enough to give Nina the impression that he had skimmed it at best.

‘My
first
book,’ she told Seretse. ‘The second’s finished, and should be out by the end of the year.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I have already read it.’

‘You have?’

‘Your publisher sent me proofs of the manuscript so it could be vetted for security purposes. I was sure you would not have included any classified information, and I was right, but I read it anyway.’

‘And what did you think?’

‘That it was every bit as detailed as your first.’ She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. ‘Oh, congratulations on your film deal, by the way! My son wants to know if I am in it.’

‘Thanks,’ said Nina. ‘I honestly don’t know what happens in the movie; after they bought the rights, they went off and did their own thing. I’ll find out in a month or so, I guess!’

‘I shall have to see it in a cinema like everyone else, then.’ He regarded the screens. ‘How are things progressing?’

‘They’re clearing the blocked stairway,’ said Blumberg.

Seretse nodded. ‘I will not distract you, then. I just wished to say hello.’

‘It’s good to see you again,’ said Nina. ‘And to be back at the IHA, actually. Even if it’s only for the day.’

‘A shame that you were not able to go on the expedition yourself. But I suppose one of you needed to be here for Macy.’

The redhead’s smile became thinner. ‘Yeah, a shame. I guess when only one of you’s dive-certified, it makes choosing who stays home easier, right?’ She forced a small laugh.

If he had registered her true feelings, the diplomat chose not to show it. ‘Indeed. Well, I shall let you carry on. Do feel free to see me in my office later.’

‘I will if I get the chance,’ she told him, knowing that she almost certainly would not. Seretse said his goodbyes, then departed.

By now, the widening hole appeared almost large enough for the divers to traverse. ‘Can you get through yet?’ she asked.

‘You in a rush?’ Eddie asked. ‘How long before you’ve got to pick up Macy from nursery?’

‘Not for a while,’ she replied.

‘You
will
get her on time, won’t you? Even if I’m about to discover an Atlantean UFO or something?’

‘
Yes
, I will,’ she snapped, mildly annoyed at being mocked.

He chuckled, then became more focused as a large piece of stone fell away. ‘Okay, I’d say that’s big enough to fit through.’ He shone his light through the new opening. ‘The tunnel looks like it goes all the way down to the bottom.’

Nina and Blumberg exchanged looks. ‘I’m
not
in a rush,’ the redhead said into her microphone, ‘but: get your ass down there!’

Eddie laughed, then cautiously swam through the hole. The passage beyond was indeed clear to its end. ‘All right,’ said Blumberg as Cellini emerged behind the Englishman. ‘Nina, Eddie, you’ve been here before. What can we expect?’

‘The stairs came out behind the statue of Poseidon,’ said Nina. ‘It was the biggest thing in the temple, about sixty feet high. The place got flattened by the
Evenor
, though, so I’m not expecting there to be much left of it. Some of the smaller statues around it might have survived.’

‘What about other entrances? Did you see anything that matched what we found in Brazil?’

‘Don’t remember seeing any other doors,’ said Eddie, as he and Cellini approached the tunnel’s end. More rubble came into view below. ‘We were a bit distracted, though.’

‘There were alcoves along all the walls,’ Nina recalled. ‘Most of them had statues in, so there could have been entrances behind them. But as Eddie said, we didn’t have a lot of time for sightseeing. There were people trying to shoot us.’ She had not been the only one searching for Atlantis – and her rivals were willing to kill to prevent her from reaching it first.

‘Not today, though,’ said Blumberg smugly. Then: ‘Nerio, what’s that?’

The two explorers had reached the foot of the stairs, to find that while the space beyond was choked with rubble from the temple’s collapsed roof, it was not completely blocked – nor was all the debris mere stone. ‘It looks like . . . gold,’ said the Italian in awe, his lamp picking out a twisted piece of metal with an unmistakable hue. He knelt to pick it up. ‘It is! It’s gold!’

A warm reflection washed over Eddie as he shone his own lamp around. A low crawlspace remained open against the wall, a very large piece of sculpted metal forming a ceiling above it. Dents and tears revealed that its strength was provided by cast bronze – the Atlanteans had smelted together copper and tin thousands of years before the previously accepted beginning of the Bronze Age – but the surface was pure gold, almost a quarter of an inch thick.

Even without seeing the whole object, he knew what it was – and so did his wife.

‘The statue!’ Nina cried, staring in amazement at the main screen. ‘It’s part of the statue of Poseidon!’

‘Must’ve got wedged against the wall when the roof caved in,’ said Eddie. ‘There’s a gap under it.’ He squatted to aim his light down the little tunnel.

Blumberg snapped his fingers, gesturing for an assistant to bring him a large folder. He quickly produced a floorplan. ‘This is a diagram of what was left of the duplicate temple in Brazil,’ he said, showing it to Nina. His finger tapped the representation of a set of stairs. ‘That’s the way up to the altar room, and
this
,’ his finger slid across the page, ‘is the entrance to one of the secondary chambers. If the other evidence we’ve found pans out, that’s where we’ll find the Secret Codex.’

She checked the scale. ‘That’s only . . . what, twenty-five feet away?’

‘If that.’ He regarded the screens. ‘Question is, can anyone fit through?’

‘I’m watching on the monitor,’ Matt cut in from the submersible, ‘and that looks like a job for an ROV if you ask me.’

‘No, we can get through,’ insisted Cellini. He dropped on to his front, head craned back to peer down the confined passage. ‘It’s low, but the suits will fit.’

‘You sure about that?’ asked Eddie sceptically.

Cellini pulsed his suit’s thrusters to drive himself into the opening. With his chest plate scuffing the stone floor, the bulbous shell covering his air tanks slid beneath the golden ceiling with about an inch to spare. ‘I told you,’ he said once he was inside.

‘The statue’s not flat, though,’ Eddie warned him. ‘If it dips even by a couple of inches, you’ll get stuck!’

The sight of the other man’s flapping fins disappearing was the only reply. ‘Really?’ said Nina in exasperation. ‘Eddie, you’d better make sure he’s okay.’

‘Would never’ve thought that having a three-year-old would be great practice for going on an archaeological dig,’ said her husband as he followed his companion.

A low grumbling sound came over the speakers. ‘Was that you?’ Nina asked.

‘What, you think I’d eat beans before getting sealed in this thing?’ said Eddie, halting. He too had heard the noise, but couldn’t pinpoint its source. ‘Matt, there’s nothing happening outside, is there?’

‘The current’s shifted,’ the Australian told him. ‘Started a couple of minutes ago. It’s a tidal thing, don’t worry about it.’

‘I’m not worried about the tide. I’m worried about whatever made that noise.’ He listened, but the deep rumble did not recur.

A higher-pitched grunt through the earpiece caught his attention. He looked ahead to see that Cellini had stopped, fins flailing uselessly. A swirl of sediment corkscrewed back towards Eddie as the younger man switched on his thrusters, to no avail. ‘Eddie, I’m caught!’

‘Hold on, I’m coming! Turn off your props.’ The Englishman brought himself up behind Cellini, rolling for a better look at the ceiling. The bulbous back of the Italian’s suit had jammed against some detail of the giant statue. ‘Okay, I should be able to pull you out.’

‘No, no!’ Cellini protested. ‘There is something on the other side, I can see it! We are so close! Push me forward.’

‘You sure?’

Blumberg was about to speak, but Nina beat him to it. ‘He’s only about six feet from the entrance to the secondary chamber. You’ve got to keep going.’

‘Just like old times, eh?’ Eddie’s tone was more sarcastic than nostalgic. ‘I’m assuming everyone else is in favour?’

‘We have to at least try,’ agreed Blumberg. ‘Don’t take any risks, though.’

‘Like crawling underneath a giant statue with fifty tons of rubble on top of it?’ Eddie shook his head, then checked the golden surface. ‘Okay, Nerio – it looks like you’ll just about fit if I pull you back, then you slide to your left.’

‘I can do that,’ Cellini replied enthusiastically.

Eddie squirmed back, then braced himself and took hold of the other man’s ankles. ‘Ready?’

He pulled as Cellini levered himself backwards. The suit ground alarmingly against the protrusion, then came free. ‘
Sono libero!
’ the Italian proclaimed.

‘All right, go to your left,’ said Eddie. ‘Keep going . . . There, stop. Okay, go forward, slowly.’

The Yorkshireman carefully pushed the younger man. His air tanks again caught the sculpted fold, but this time the rasp was much fainter. ‘You’re almost through . . . All right, use your thrusters! Now!’

Cellini thumbed the throttle wheel on the control stalk. The suit’s thrusters surged, and he popped free of the obstacle like a champagne cork. ‘I did it!’

‘
We
did it,’ Eddie reminded him sardonically. ‘Now, you going to help me through, or what?’

The Englishman’s own journey through the gap was equally tight, but ultimately successful. Cellini helped him to his knees in a small space beneath what he realised was the statue’s shoulder. ‘Great, we’re in Poseidon’s armpit. And I bet he didn’t use deodorant.’

‘What can you see?’ Nina demanded impatiently.

‘You were right, Lester,’ said Cellini. A curved alcove was set into the wall, an overturned golden statue partly buried beneath rubble – but behind it was a narrow passageway. ‘There
is
an opening!’

Eddie brought up his light. The tunnel headed back beneath the altar room for around forty feet before turning to the right. There was debris on the floor, but it appeared traversable. ‘Looks like we can get down it.’

‘So what are we waiting for?’ Cellini crawled forward until he had enough space to stand, then entered the passage. ‘Eddie, come on!’

The older man shrugged as best he could in the suit, then followed. ‘Rushing into ancient tunnels – it’s like you’re here with me, Nina. You sure you don’t have any Italian relatives?’

‘You and Macy are the only relatives I’ve got,’ she replied. ‘Which makes sending out Christmas cards a lot simpler. Okay, what can you see?’

Cellini reached the turning; Eddie caught up and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘The Atlanteans really liked booby traps.’

The Italian was unconvinced. ‘They would not still be working after all this time – and being under two hundred and fifty metres of water.’

‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’ Eddie took the lead, checking the way ahead. The tunnel ran for thirty feet into a larger chamber. ‘There’s definitely a room down here,’ he announced. ‘If we swim in, we shouldn’t set anything off.’

He kicked off the floor and tilted forward, using his flippers rather than the thrusters to move down the passage. They crossed the threshold, the walls opening out around them to reveal . . .

‘
È incredibile!
’ gasped Cellini.

Eddie was equally impressed. ‘I think we’ve found what you were looking for.’

2

The room was not large, only a fraction of the altar room’s size. But it was every bit as dazzling a find. Like its larger counterpart, the walls were covered with metal sheets: orichalcum, the red-tinted gold alloy favoured by the Atlanteans. At the sight, Nina unconsciously touched a pendant around her neck, made from a scrap of the same material by her father when she was a child.

Inscriptions filled the panels, recounting the history of the ancient civilisation. There was even a map, similar to one Nina had seen in the Brazilian temple. It showed the continents of the world, incomplete, distorted, but still recognisable. Lines weaved across both sea and land. The voyages of the Atlanteans?

She didn’t have time to give it proper scrutiny, however, as something else had captured the divers’ attention. They turned to point their cameras at a statue at one end of the room. A man, life-sized, and sculpted in gold – in its pure form this time, the metal an auric yellow. He was clad in robes, a sword sheathed at his side. His hands were raised before him.

Holding a large book.

Nina stared at the screen, more than ever wishing she was seeing it in person. ‘Oh, wow. It’s just like the Talonor Codex . . . which means,’ she leaned closer to examine the statue’s face, ‘that actually might
be
Talonor!’

‘I’d say it’s a good bet,’ said Blumberg, enraptured. ‘So that’s what he looked like?’

Talonor had been the greatest explorer of Atlantis, travelling as far as the Amazon basin to the west, and into the Himalayas to the east. The Talonor Codex, a record of his journeys, had been discovered in the underwater ruins several years earlier. It had given a whole new insight into the ancient civilisation, as well as leading Nina to another discovery: the Vault of Shiva, an astounding repository of Hindu artefacts high in the Indian mountains.

But it had not been his only record.

Further discoveries had led the IHA’s archaeologists to believe that Talonor – a military leader as well as an adventurer – had compiled a
second
volume, the so-called Secret Codex. Rather than an account intended to impress the citizens of Atlantis with epic exploits in far-off lands, this was for the empire’s rulers alone, written with a potential conqueror’s eye: the strengths and weaknesses of the peoples Talonor had encountered, their riches and resources that could be plundered.

And it seemed that it had now been found.

Eddie moved closer. ‘He’s a bit smug.’ The lean-faced man had a definite smirking curl to his lips.

‘Well, when you’re one of the greatest explorers in all recorded history, you’re allowed to be pretty pleased with yourself,’ Nina told him. ‘The book – it looks like he’s holding it, rather than it being a part of the statue?’

Eddie’s gloved hand appeared on the monitor, brushing silt off the golden fingers. ‘Yeah, it’s a separate thing. You want me to pick it up?’

‘No!’ both Nina and Blumberg cried simultaneously, Cellini joining in the chorus from the ocean floor. ‘We need to photograph and catalogue everything first,’ she went on. ‘I know it’s been a while, but you remember the drill, surely?’

‘I was hoping you’d forgotten the boring parts,’ he replied.

‘None of this is boring!’

‘Different strokes, love.’ Cellini’s camera on another screen revealed that the Yorkshireman’s smirk was as wide as Talonor’s; he was trying to wind her up. ‘I’ll have a poke around while Nerio’s taking pictures, then. Don’t worry, I don’t
literally
mean poke.’

Blumberg gave Nina a disapproving look. ‘He does know what he’s doing, trust me,’ she said. ‘After I beat it into him.’ A faint mocking snort came from the seabed.

Cellini took a camera from his case and started to photograph the chamber. Blumberg switched the main screen to show the view from his shoulder cam as he worked. ‘This is amazing,’ said Nina, her knowledge of the ancient Atlantean language letting her pick out some of the words on the walls. They appeared to describe the lands the explorer had visited. The map was almost certainly a chart of his travels, then. ‘Talonor’s secret records chamber, still preserved after all this time.’

‘It’s incredible that anything survived at all,’ said Blumberg. ‘First Atlantis sinks, then a ship demolishes the temple . . .’

She ignored the hint of blame aimed at her for the latter. ‘But there it is. Thank you for letting me be a part of this, Lester.’

‘No problem,’ he said, somewhat dismissively. ‘Although there was only one route to follow down there, so we didn’t actually need a guide at all.’

Now
she made her annoyance plain on her face, but before she could come up with a spiky rejoinder, another low rumble echoed over the loudspeakers. ‘What was that?’

Eddie felt it directly. ‘The room just shook.’ The floor had quivered beneath his feet, enough to unsteady him.

Cellini looked about in alarm. ‘Earthquake?’

‘No, mate,’ said Matt. ‘I’ve got readings from the seismic relays around the site. That was local, just in the temple.’

‘If something was dislodged by the explosion, the change in the current might be affecting it,’ suggested Blumberg.

‘Oh, great, so it’s going to fall down on us?’ Eddie started for the tunnel. ‘Come on, Nerio, time to go.’

‘In a minute,’ said the Italian. ‘I have to photograph this first.’ He approached the statue.

‘What
is
it with archaeologists?’ Eddie asked the universe in general. ‘Look, if that big statue outside drops by even a couple of inches, we’re not getting out of here! Forget taking pictures – just take the real thing.’ He reached past Cellini and tugged the volume from Talonor’s golden hands. It was heavy, its pages thin sheets of inscribed metal.

‘Eddie!’ Nina protested. ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s going to be taken out of here anyway, innit? I’m just saving some time—’

Another rumble, louder than before – and the whole chamber shuddered. Dust and silt dropped from between the ceiling’s stone slabs, forming ghostly stalactites in the water.

‘That was
not
me,’ Eddie said firmly, glaring at the statue. ‘That was a coincidence, not a booby trap!’

Cellini gave him a worried look. ‘You are right. We should go!’

Both men launched themselves at the exit, using their suit thrusters to power down the passage before stopping at its end. Eddie squatted to check their escape route. It was still clear. ‘Okay, you go first,’ he told Cellini.

The Italian shook his head. ‘No, you first! We have to get the Secret Codex out of here.’

‘Your life’s worth more than some book. And so’s mine, for that matter!’ But Eddie could tell the young man was not going to change his mind. He had seen the same attitude often enough in his wife. ‘Oh, for— All right!’ He threw the Codex as hard as he could into the low crawlspace. It spun through the water, skidding to a halt about ten feet in. ‘I’ll push it through ahead of me. As for you, you’d better be right behind!’

He dropped to his belly and pulsed the thrusters to move himself into the passage. Cellini took hold of his feet to push him onwards. When he reached the Codex, he shoved it along the narrow tunnel. A faint drumming reached him through the water. He put his fingertips to the ceiling. The statue was trembling.

Above him, he saw scrapes in the gold where the deep suits had ground against it. He rolled slightly to give himself as much clearance as possible. ‘Nerio, I’m almost at the tight bit. Let me line up before you push me through.’

The Italian released his ankles. Eddie shuffled across to bring himself into what he hoped was the right alignment. ‘Okay, now!’

Cellini pushed him again. The scrapes passed above his head . . . then the suit jarred against the ceiling, stopping him dead.

‘Push harder!’ he barked, trying to hold back his rising panic – not simply because he was caught, but also because now that he was in direct contact with the statue, the shudder was being transmitted into the hard body of his suit. It was an irregular pulsing thump, like a door banging in the wind, only something much bigger and heavier.

Whatever it was, it was getting worse.

He scrabbled at the floor with both hands as Cellini strained to force him through. His fingers brushed the Codex. He angrily pushed it away, wriggling and twisting as the ominous drumbeat grew louder—

A rasp – and suddenly he was free. Cellini released his legs. He kicked, the fins driving him forward. Another shove of the Codex, then he fired the thrusters to bring himself to the base of the stairs. ‘I’m out!’ he said, turning to look back into the cramped passage.

‘What about the Codex?’ asked Cellini.

‘The stupid thing’s here, don’t worry. Hurry up, your turn!’

He aimed his light down the tunnel. Cellini was edging towards the lowest point beneath the statue. ‘A bit to the right,’ Eddie told him. ‘That’s it. Keep on coming, you can do it . . .’

The young man reached the clench point, his suit knocking against the ceiling. ‘I can’t fit!’

‘Yeah, you can,’ Eddie replied, trying to sound reassuring. ‘Just roll a bit and you’ll be able to get your air tanks through. Trust me,’ he added with a smile.

Cellini nervously followed the instructions. ‘That’s it!’ said Eddie. ‘Come through, now!’

The Italian advanced. This time, the suit’s carapace slipped beneath the obstruction, grinding against it as he squirmed forward—

Another deep rumble echoed through the water. The floor jolted – and displaced silt erupted through the passage as the great statue shifted.

Eddie felt as if he was inside Big Ben when the bell struck noon, a colossal metallic
boom
pounding him. Ears throbbing, he tried to hold himself in position. His vision was reduced almost to nothing by the swirling cloud. ‘Nerio! Nerio, are you okay?’

No answer.

The reason wafted past him a moment later, a tiny point of blue light in the murk – the broken end of the Italian’s fibre-optic cable.

‘Eddie!’ said Blumberg. ‘We’ve lost contact with Nerio! What’s happening?’

‘His comm line’s snapped,’ Eddie replied. ‘The statue moved.’

‘Oh my God!’ said Nina. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, but Nerio was right under it, and I can’t see anything!’ He groped until his fingers found the metal ceiling. There was still a gap underneath it, but how far had it dropped? An inch would trap Cellini – and anything more would crush his suit. At this depth, even the smallest breach would instantly kill its wearer.

Blumberg spoke again, but Eddie shouted him down. ‘Quiet, quiet! Everyone shut up – I need to listen.’ He waited for the radio chatter to cease, then called out Cellini’s name.

All he could hear was the background hiss of his suit’s air supply. ‘Nerio!’ he yelled again. ‘Can you hear me?’

Still nothing, then . . .

‘Eddie!’ The voice was faint, reaching him through two thick acrylic bubbles and several feet of silt-choked water, but the Italian was alive. ‘Help!’

‘I can hear him!’ Eddie reported. ‘I’m going back into the tunnel.’

‘You might get stuck too,’ said Nina in alarm.

Blumberg joined in with a warning of his own. ‘Eddie, if the statue shifts again, you could both be killed!’

‘I can’t leave him behind,’ Eddie said firmly. He pulled himself back into the cramped tunnel. ‘Nerio, I’m coming! Keep talking, let me know where you are!’

Cellini’s voice grew louder. ‘I’m here, I’m here! My radio is out!’

‘I know, your line snapped. Stretch your hands out. I can’t be far from you.’

Eddie looked ahead. The water was still an opaque soup . . . then it started to swirl. ‘I’m almost there,’ he said. ‘Keep waving!’

Something flicked through the gloom, stirring up suspended silt. A moment later it moved back: Cellini’s gloved hand. Eddie grabbed it. ‘
Mi hai trovato!
’ gasped the Italian.

‘Still got to get you out of there,’ Eddie cautioned. ‘I’m going to try to pull you. Are your thrusters working?’

‘Yes, but they did not help.’

‘We’ll have to use brute force and ignorance, then. Usually works!’ He gripped Cellini’s wrist, using his other hand to take his own suit’s control stalk. ‘Okay, you ready? Start ’em up!’

Both sets of thrusters whined to full power. Eddie backed up, but halted again almost immediately as his arm reached full stretch, straining to pull the Italian. ‘Are you moving?’

‘I don’t know!’ Cellini replied. ‘I . . . I hear the suit rubbing on the statue, but – no, no!’ Excitement filled his voice. ‘I can see the floor, I moved!’

‘That’s great!’ Eddie growled, tugging at him. ‘Keep it up—’

Another rumble shook the temple – and a sharp crack came from his suit’s fibreglass back as the statue pressed down hard upon it.

He froze in fear, but no explosive inrush of water hit him. The section of casing covering the air tanks was cosmetic streamlining rather than structural. It had split under the weight, but the pressurised body had not been damaged.

Yet. If the statue dropped any lower, it would crush the shell like an egg—

An idea came to him. He twisted to test it, and found that even though the suit was still graunching against both floor and ceiling, he had slightly more freedom of movement. ‘Nerio!’ he yelled. ‘Back up, as far as you can! You need to hit the ceiling harder!’

‘What are you doing?’ Blumberg demanded.

Cellini was equally bewildered. ‘But the suit will break!’

‘I know, I know – but if the
back
breaks, it doesn’t matter! It’s just a cover! If you flatten it, you’ll be able to fit through.’

‘Eddie, that’s crazy,’ said Blumberg, but the Englishman ignored him – and to his relief, so did Cellini. The Italian withdrew, Eddie letting himself be pulled deeper into the tunnel until he jammed against the statue.

‘All right,’ he called. ‘Are you set?’

‘Yes!’ came the reply.

Eddie restarted his thrusters at full power. ‘
Now!
’

He lunged backwards, pulling Cellini with him – and the younger man slammed against his confines. There was a sharp snap of splintering fibreglass. ‘Keep going, keep going!’ Eddie shouted. He pulled Cellini’s arm. ‘You’re moving!’