Eddie checked. There would only be a small space between the suit’s fibreglass casing and the stone. ‘Roll on your right so you don’t bang your air tank cover on the ceiling.’ Cellini did so. ‘Okay, try to get through. Don’t use your legs – I’ll push you.’
Bracing himself, he carefully assisted the other man into the opening. Despite their best efforts, the suit scraped against the tight surrounds, with a tense moment when the control stalk caught the stone block, but a small roll brought Cellini clear. The hard carapace finally slipped through, and the Italian immediately angled downwards to get clear. ‘I made it!’ he cried.
‘Wind out some of your fibre-optic so it won’t catch when I come through,’ Eddie told him. Cellini acknowledged. ‘All right, here I come.’
He followed the other man into the opening. Cellini helped him through. Again, the inflexible fibreglass rasped against the stonework, but even though Eddie was considerably stockier than the lithe young man, the bodies of their deep suits were identical; if one could fit, so could its twin. A quick twist, and the Englishman was free.
‘I’m through,’ he told his listeners, bringing himself back upright. Without the spill of illumination from the altar room, the passage beyond the broken slab was much darker. He used his lamp to scan the floor, then the ceiling. ‘Looks like some bits came loose from above,’ he said, examining the broken stonework littering the steps.
‘Is the ceiling intact?’ Nina asked nervously.
‘Yeah, but there are some cracks. Let’s not stay in here too long, eh?’
‘What about the second blockage?’ said Blumberg. ‘The robots couldn’t get through it – will you be able to?’
‘We’ll soon find out.’
Eddie and Cellini carefully made their way down the sloping tunnel. Before long, another obstruction appeared. Eddie had seen a photo of the pile of rubble before diving, and saw at once that something had changed. Cellini realised the same thing. ‘The explosion, it must have dislodged some of the stones,’ he said. Although loose, the pile had previously reached to the roof, but now there were open areas at its top.
‘We still won’t fit through, though. Good job we brought these!’ Eddie set down his case and opened it. Amongst other tools, it contained a steel crowbar and a folding shovel. He took out the former and made a few exploratory probes at the debris. The smashed stones shifted easily. ‘You were right about it being loose.’
‘How long do you think it’ll take to get through?’ asked Blumberg.
‘Probably only a few minutes,’ the Yorkshireman reported, knocking away a couple more pieces.
‘Just make it a clean job,’ said Blumberg. ‘Smashing priceless sites apart isn’t my style.’
Nina looked at the cardigan-clad man, whose retreating hairline had been feebly camouflaged by a swooping comb-over, but decided to keep her thoughts on his ideas of style to herself. Instead, she turned back to the monitors. Eddie and Cellini were indeed opening up the gap quite quickly. She was about to ask one of them to see if anything was visible beyond when someone entered the room. She sat up in surprise when she saw the new arrival. ‘Oswald, hi!’
‘And hello to you too, Nina,’ replied Oswald Seretse. The urbane Gambian diplomat had acted as the IHA’s interim director before Blumberg was appointed, but had since returned to the role of bureaucratic liaison between the semi-independent agency and the United Nations, with which she was sure he was far more comfortable. ‘I heard you were in the building.’
‘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.