King Solomon's Curse

  ‘No, we’re going to flip up it like a salmon. Course I bloody do!’

  ‘You’ve seen the movie Fitzcarraldo, right?’ Nina asked. With every member of the documentary crew either a film school graduate or having ambitions of working in Hollywood, she was not surprised that they had, or at least pretended to have done so. ‘We’ll have to pull the boats up to the top of the waterfall.’

  ‘Sure, that’ll be easy,’ said Lydia, unimpressed.

  ‘Six to a boat, should be doable,’ Eddie told her. ‘So long as we can find a slope that’s not too steep.’

  The engines started up again, Paris and Fortune bringing the boats side by side. It did not take long before the rumble of falling water became audible even over the outboards. Rounding a bend, the source of the noise came into sight. Fisher shouted across to the other boat. ‘Jay! You getting that?’

  Rivero already had his camera rolling. ‘You bet,’ he replied. He stood for a better view, only for Paris to yell for him to sit again as the boat rocked.

  The waterfall was not especially high, around forty feet, but was near-vertical where the upper river cascaded over a cliff. A white mist masked the churning waters at its base. ‘Okay,’ said Nina, ‘it’s very pretty, but how are we going to get up it?’

  Eddie was already searching the shores, Fortune and Paris doing the same. ‘Over there!’ the latter shouted, pointing to the right.

  Treetops beyond the bank swept up to meet the canopy on the cliff. ‘It’s shallow enough to climb,’ the Englishman decided.

  ‘We can land there,’ said Fortune, indicating a small muddy cove. He turned the tiller, Paris swinging his own craft to follow.

  The water downriver of the falls was choppy, but both boats made it to land without being swamped, to the camera crew’s great relief. Fortune deliberately ran the bow aground, Eddie jumping out and grabbing a rope to hitch it to a tree. The second boat pulled up alongside. ‘Okay, unload everything, then we’ll drag it out of the river,’ said Eddie. The cargo was extracted, then he, Nina, Fortune, Wemba and – with a little reluctance – Fisher pulled the vessel on to the shore. Lydia eventually offered half-hearted assistance under Nina’s pointed gaze. Those aboard Paris’s boat followed suit, both vessels soon sitting beached on the bank.

  ‘Well, that was the easy part,’ said the Yorkshireman, surveying the waterfall. ‘Now we’ve got to get them up there!’

  While the others ate, Eddie and Fortune scouted ahead, finding a relatively easy route up the slope to a stretch of riverbank safely clear of the waterfall’s quickening current. With six people carrying each boat, it took a little more than an hour to heave them up the hill.

  ‘Fitzcarraldo would be proud,’ said the sweating Nina as the craft were laid down beside the river. She took a GPS reading. ‘Only fifteen kilometres to go.’

  ‘Sunset is in less than four hours,’ Fortune cautioned. ‘We may not make it before dark.’

  ‘Let’s hope there aren’t any more waterfalls, then.’

  ‘Yeah, let’s,’ griped Lydia.

  Everyone returned to the lower river to retrieve their cargo. Another half-hour passed before they returned and everything was reloaded. ‘Okay, where’s Jay?’ asked Fisher, looking around.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Eddie said in dismay as he spotted the cameraman balancing precariously on a large boulder in the rushing river, filming the waterfall. ‘Why do people with cameras always have a death wish?’

  ‘That’s how they win awards – if they survive,’ the director joked. ‘Jay! We’re leaving!’ Rivero turned, wobbling alarmingly before catching himself and hopping back to shore.

  This time there was little ceremony as the boats finally set out, just a tired desire to reach their destination. Once clear of the falls, their passage became as monotonous as before, the unbroken walls of trees along the flat, swampy land on each side almost claustrophobic. Conversation dried up in the muggy heat. Nina eventually broke the silence as she checked the GPS. ‘Three kilometres. Will we get there before sunset?’

  ‘I am not sure,’ Fortune replied.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Fisher, wiping sweat from his face. ‘We can send up the drone and see what’s ahead.’

  ‘How high can it go?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘In theory, over half a mile. I don’t think Howie’s ever taken it that high, though. But it’ll easily clear the trees.’

  Everyone looked to Nina. ‘Sounds good to me,’ she said.

  ‘I almost thought you’d consider that cheating,’ said Lydia.

  ‘Why? I used technology to work out Zhakana’s location, so I’ve got no problem with using it in the field. Just because I like to be hands-on at a site doesn’t mean I have to grope around in the dark.’

  ‘We can land at that bank,’ said Fortune, pointing to a flat, marshy area within one of the river’s meanders.

  ‘Then let’s do it,’ said Fisher. He called to the second boat. ‘Howie! We’re going to stop. Get the drone ready.’ The production assistant gave him a thumbs-up.

  They made landfall, mooring the boats. While Howie prepared the drone, everyone else gratefully took the opportunity to stretch their legs. ‘Don’t go too far,’ Paris cautioned as the group dispersed.

  Nina went with Fisher to the second boat to speak to Howie, but saw Kimba having trouble getting out of the craft. ‘You okay, Masson?’ she asked, helping him on to land.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ he replied. He was obviously experiencing discomfort, but trying to hide it behind a smile. ‘My leg.’ He patted his left thigh just below the hip. ‘I was beaten by a soldier when I was a boy. If I move, it is okay. If I am still for too long . . . it hurts.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why? You did not beat me!’ Another smile, but this one was genuine. He rolled his hips, then took a few steps. ‘Already it is better. Thank you again, Dr Wilde.’

  ‘Call me Nina,’ she said, smiling back.

  ‘Okay, dudes, the drone’s ready,’ Howie announced. He placed the little aircraft on level ground, then opened one of the team’s slim laptops and plugged in a compact antenna dongle. After a few seconds, a window appeared showing the feed from the drone’s main camera – which from its current low angle was a comical view of Rivero standing nearby. ‘There’s a shot for the gag reel.’

  ‘Gag is right,’ offered Lydia as the unwitting cameraman tugged at his cargo shorts to adjust his underwear. ‘Can you change the channel?’

  Howie snickered, then waggled his fingers. ‘Okay. Fly, my pretty!’

  Rather than use a joystick, he worked the keyboard with the skill of a lifelong videogamer. The quadcopter’s rotors buzzed, lifting it into the air with hummingbird speed. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked.

  ‘West,’ said Nina. ‘There should be higher ground three kilometres away.’

  He nodded. ‘Let’s see what we got.’ The drone jinked through gaps in the trees before soaring into open sky.

  Nina and her companions watched the screen intently. A superimposed heads-up display told them the quadcopter’s altitude and bearing; it quickly rose to five hundred feet, turning west. ‘There’s your higher ground,’ Howie announced. With the lowering sun behind them, the hills and cliffs the drone revealed were mostly silhouetted, looming ominously over the jungle.

  ‘I can’t make out much detail,’ Nina said. ‘How much closer can you get?’

  ‘The camera’s got a five-times zoom, so that’ll help,’ the young man replied. ‘And the drone’s got a full charge, so over a mile before having to RTB. Return to base,’ he added, seeing her confusion.

  ‘Go for it,’ she told him. ‘But head south-west rather than due west – that way, the sun won’t be right behind the hills.’ The drone changed course, the jungle crabbing diagonally past below as it kept its camera fixed on the highlands.

 
Details appeared in the shadows. ‘That cliff, there,’ said Nina, pointing at a feature on the range’s edge. ‘Can you zoom in on it?’

  ‘Sure can.’ The image enlarged.

  ‘It could be the cliff from the map room . . .’ said Fisher, though with uncertainty.

  Nina was more confident. ‘It looks a lot like it,’ she said. ‘There’s too much tree cover to see if there’s anything on top, though.’ The view gradually enlarged over the following minutes, but the jungle remained frustratingly opaque. ‘Dammit, we won’t spot anything from the air,’ she finally had to admit. ‘Not unless we get a lot closer.’

  ‘Not enough battery left for that,’ Howie said apologetically. ‘Gotta turn back soon.’

  Fisher made a frustrated sound. ‘So near, yet so far.’

  ‘We can reach it in person,’ Nina reminded him. ‘Let’s get back in the boats. We might still make it before sundown.’

  She called to Fortune, who in turn shouted for everyone to return. ‘You find it?’ Eddie asked as he reached her.

  ‘I think we’ve found the right place,’ she said. ‘As for whether there’s anything still there . . .’

  He did a headcount, coming up short. ‘Someone’s missing. Where’s Cretien?’

  Paris gestured towards a clump of trees a hundred feet away. ‘He went that way.’

  ‘I’ll get him. Maybe he’s constipated and stuck mid-dump.’

  ‘Gross, Eddie,’ Nina said, smiling. Lydia was also disgusted, but without humour.

  He grinned, then picked his way across the wet ground towards the trees. ‘Cretien?’ No response. He rounded a trunk – and found the porter hurriedly stuffing something into a pocket. ‘What’re you doing?’

  ‘I, I . . .’ Wemba stammered, before a flash of what Eddie could only interpret as cunning crossed his face. ‘I came to smoke, I did not want anyone to see,’ he said, delving back into his pocket and producing a packet of cigarettes. ‘They are not mine, I took them from the baggage.’

  ‘You stole them, is what you’re saying.’

  He nodded, looking down at his feet. ‘Yes, yes. I am sorry.’

  Eddie regarded him dubiously. He couldn’t smell cigarette smoke, but there was enough of a breeze to have carried it away, and the Congolese might have flicked the butt into the river when he realised someone was coming. ‘It’s a bad habit, you should give it up,’ he said at last. There was no proof that Wemba had been up to anything worse, and at this early stage of the expedition he didn’t want to rouse any antagonism – especially as Fortune had vouched for him. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

  Wemba nodded with vigour. ‘You are right. I am sorry.’

  ‘Anyway, we’re going. Better get back to the boats.’ He retraced his steps, the other man following.

  The drone buzzed back down to a landing as they arrived. While Howie collected it, Fisher flicked through its recorded footage on the laptop, comparing a still frame of the distant cliff to one of the model in the First Temple’s map room. ‘You know, Nina, it actually could be the same place.’

  ‘We’ll find out soon,’ she said. Eddie reached her. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, glancing at Wemba, who avoided his gaze. ‘We ready to go?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She waited for Howie to return the drone to its case and get back into the boat, then boarded her own. The sun had dropped lower behind the trees, but with so little distance still to go she was sure they could reach their destination before nightfall. ‘Let’s see what’s waiting for us.’

  10

  The atmosphere changed the closer the team got to the journey’s end.

  It took a while for Nina to realise exactly why. Rising anticipation, sure; but there was something else, beyond the boats. It took a swat of her hand at an insect buzzing around her face to realise what it was. ‘Is it just me, or aren’t there as many bugs?’ Now that she thought about it, she had not been bothered by flying critters for several minutes.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Eddie. He regarded the sluggish river’s surface. It had previously been alive with countless low-flying insects and water skaters, but now, while there was still no shortage of bugs, they were no longer swarming. ‘Not as many birds either.’

  Fortune shrugged. ‘If there are not as many insects, there will not be as many birds to eat them. And the sun is setting. They will be going to sleep.’

  ‘I know, but I’ve spent a lot of time in jungles before. Something’s not right.’

  ‘That’s it exactly,’ said Nina. ‘Something doesn’t feel right. Anyone else getting that?’

  ‘Nothing’s felt right since we started down this bloody river,’ Lydia complained.

  ‘No, I know what she means,’ said Fisher. She gave him a curious look. ‘It’s hard to describe, but I feel kind of . . . unsettled? Like the back of my mind’s saying we shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Maybe it’s the curse,’ suggested Eddie with dark humour.

  ‘I’m not saying I believe it. But yeah, there’s definitely a weird feeling.’

  Nina consulted the GPS. ‘Just over a kilometre to go, so if it gets weirder, we’re probably in the right place.’ She looked at the riverbank to starboard. The ground rose on that side, exposed rock peeking through the vegetation. ‘We’re coming up to the cliffs.’

  A wall of stone lay ahead. Fisher called to Rivero to ready his camera. The inexplicable feeling of unease grew stronger. ‘Look,’ said Eddie, pointing at the left bank. ‘There’s something wrong with the trees.’

  ‘It’s definitely a tulgey wood,’ Nina replied. The jungle vegetation was as dense as before, but appeared oddly sickly, twisted and gnarled.

  He lowered his voice. ‘We’re not going into another bloody dead zone, are we? A pool of eitr, or a radioactive cave . . .’

  ‘I hope not.’ The couple’s previous adventures had brought them dangerously close to deadly secrets from within the earth itself, the lethal effects of which had been worked into the mythology of ancient civilisations as diverse as the Vikings, the Greeks and even the Atlanteans. ‘But Zhakana’s linked to the Hebrew legend of King Solomon’s Shamir, which had great powers, so maybe this is some side effect.’

  ‘Great. And we didn’t bring any hazmat suits.’

  They passed into the cliff’s shadow. Nina checked the GPS again, then looked ahead, excitement overcoming nervousness. ‘We’re close. I think that when the river comes around this promontory, we’ll be there.’

  Fisher shouted to the second boat. ‘Jay, start filming. I’ll use the SLR for reaction shots of Nina.’ He took out a Nikon digital still camera and switched it to its video mode.

  ‘Quick, put on some make-up,’ said Eddie. Nina gave him a mocking smile.

  The river curved around the cliff. As they emerged from its shade, light from the setting sun caught the streams of several small waterfalls gushing from halfway up it, sending a sparkling cascade down at them. ‘Wow, look at that,’ she said, entranced – until her peripheral vision caught Fisher’s camera lens edging ever closer to her face. She resisted the urge to turn and glower at it, instead holding position long enough for him to get his shot – then turning and glowering. Fisher retreated without apology.

  A giant rock came into view on the right bank. ‘That was on the model in the map room!’ she said. ‘There should be a slope on the other side leading to the city.’

  Fortune angled the boat towards the shore, Paris following. Beyond the rock were more trees, more disturbingly warped than those downriver. A slope rose towards the top of the promontory beyond them – steep, but climbable. ‘We can land there,’ said Eddie, indicating a stretch of bank.

  ‘I think someone already did!’ cried Rivero.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Nina.

  ‘I’ve zoomed in – and I can see stones along the side. I d
on’t mean fallen rocks either. I’m talking actual carved blocks!’

  Fisher’s camera snapped up to capture Nina’s reaction. This time, she was too thrilled to be annoyed. ‘Okay, let’s go take a look!’

  The boats manoeuvred to the shore. The broken blocks were entangled in roots and reeds, but there was no doubt that they were man-made. Nina climbed on to the base of a twisted tree for a closer look. ‘Look at this! I’d say it was a quay, so whoever built it could land without having to drag their boats out of the river.’

  Her husband followed her, tying up the boat. ‘So who did build it?’

  ‘A civilisation that’s been completely lost to us – until now.’

  ‘Good trailer line,’ said Fisher as he awkwardly climbed ashore. ‘You’re getting the hang of this, Nina. Now if you can say it again when there’s a camera on you . . .’

  She didn’t reply, absorbed in her findings. ‘These blocks are all damaged, but they were originally very precisely cut. Just like the stones in the First Temple.’

  Ziff joined her. ‘Very similar workmanship. But according to the inscriptions in the map room, this place pre-dates Solomon by centuries.’

  Nina looked up the slope. Any path from the river to the plateau above was now completely overgrown. ‘The answers will be up there.’ A glance at the reddening western sky. ‘We don’t have much time before it gets dark.’ She started for the incline.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to make camp and see what’s up there in the morning?’ asked Lydia.

  ‘It might, but I’m not going to wait now that we’re this close,’ the redhead replied. ‘Steven, you’ll want to film all this.’ She pushed aside a bush and started to climb, then paused to look back. ‘Well, come on! This is why we’re here!’ She continued upwards, branches cracking as she bulldozed through the undergrowth.

  ‘I do love her, really,’ Eddie said to Fisher with a grin before starting after her. ‘Fortune, chuck me a machete – although the way she’s going, we might not need it!’

  The climb to the top took several minutes, the combination of dense vegetation and the steep slope making it an arduous ascent. But Nina still made another discovery along the way: beneath the topsoil, her boots found a firmer surface. The route between the river and whatever lay above had once been paved.