The rest of the group arrived. ‘That noise is louder down here,’ Lydia reported.
‘I can tell,’ said Eddie. ‘Still can’t really hear it, but it’s putting my teeth on edge. Like when some arsehole in the downstairs apartment’s got their bass turned right up.’
‘But he didn’t do it again after you spoke to him, did he?’ Nina said with a half-smile. ‘Well, I say “spoke”, but I could hear you from our apartment!’
Brice peered into the rift, his expression thoughtful. ‘Feels almost like an LRAD.’
‘A what?’
‘A sonic weapon – Long Range Acoustic Device. Ships use them to ward off pirates, but police and military use them as well for crowd control. They’re non-lethal, but nobody stays around when one’s pointed at them.’
Eddie nodded. ‘I’ve heard ’em. The high-frequency ones give you a banging headache. The low-frequency ones . . . well, if you’ve got constipation, they’ll shake you loose.’
The last Insekt Posse stragglers finally crossed the bridge. At Mukobo’s urging, Nina again led the way downwards to another arched crossing. She shone her flashlight back into the abyss. There was water below, a shimmering dark pool occupying part of the chasm’s foot. More structures were now also discernible, the largest overlooking the body of water and what appeared to be mine workings above its edge.
Another careful traversal of the next bridge was followed by a stretch of winding pathway, then a third crossing. They were now over a hundred feet below ground level, deep inside the rocky promontory on which the Palace Without Entrance stood. Despite that, the air felt fresh. There was ventilation even down here.
They continued downwards, reaching the first of the terraces running the cavern’s width. It seemed like a village, dozens of small buildings packed tightly together. They had the feel of barracks, or dormitories; basic living quarters for those who worked at the bottom of the mine. Another flight of steps descended to the next relatively flat area. The structures here were larger, but squeezed just as closely together.
Nina wanted to explore the buildings, but suspected Solomon’s treasure would be in the grandest edifice below – and that Mukobo would not indulge her professional urges. Instead, she pressed on. A broad staircase led to the lowest terrace.
The large structure she had seen from above took on form ahead. It was semicircular, the flat wall facing her and the curved one overlooking the bottom of the chasm. A wide doorway had Old Hebrew text above. ‘David,’ said Nina, pointing it out.
Ziff went to translate it. ‘This is it,’ said the Israeli. Despite the tense situation, he couldn’t keep excitement from his voice. ‘Whatever Solomon was protecting, it’s in here. This is the Chamber of the Shamir.’
‘What’s that noise like now?’ Eddie asked Lydia.
‘Very strong,’ the New Zealander replied. She crouched and put a hand to the stone floor. ‘I mean, you can actually feel it through the rock now.’
‘She’s right,’ said Brice. ‘Philippe, I’d recommend caution. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.’
‘Scared, are you?’ said Eddie.
‘Pragmatic,’ the former agent shot back. ‘I never get into a situation without having a way out. And since we don’t know what’s in there . . .’
‘We will see now,’ Mukobo said firmly. ‘Boy! Come with me. Film everything.’ He signalled for Howie to follow him into the building. The expedition members went with him, Luaba summoning some of the Insekt Posse as extra guards while the others remained outside.
Within was a large chamber. Openings in the curved wall provided a panoramic view over the bottom of the cavern. But all attention went to the room’s contents, not what lay in the darkness beyond. ‘Look at this!’ gasped Ziff. ‘This Hebrew word, it’s a name – Makeda! This is the Queen of Sheba!’
Nina joined him to examine a statue, a tall, athletic African woman with her hair in long braids down her back. ‘Wow. After three thousand years, we finally find out what she looked like . . .’
‘Impressive – and I don’t only mean the quality of the workmanship,’ said the old man with a small but cheeky smile as he admired the figure.
‘It is just stone,’ said Mukobo dismissively. ‘But this – this is real treasure!’ He went to a pedestal across the chamber. On it sat a bust, the head and shoulders of an unknown man cast in gold and inset with threads of silver and precious stones.
Nina gave it an analytical look. ‘It’s probably a relic of the city’s original inhabitants. The art style is a lot like the statue at the end of the first challenge.’
‘I do not care about that. But it must be worth millions of dollars. And it is mine!’ He indicated other wonders nearby. ‘And so is this – so is everything here!’ He turned to Brice. ‘They will give the LEC the money to buy more weapons, powerful weapons. You and your people can provide them?’
The Englishman nodded. ‘Of course. I can arrange for someone with the right contacts to appraise these.’ One of the Insekt Posse poked at a ruby, seeing if it was loose; Brice clicked his fingers to draw his attention, then shook his head. ‘There are collectors who will pay much more for ancient relics than you could get for the raw gold and gems,’ he told Mukobo. ‘A little patience will get you a lot more money.’
The warlord seemed conflicted, but greed won out over expediency. ‘Laissez-nous seuls,’ he barked. The man hurriedly withdrew.
Nina went to one of the windows. The pool lay beyond the mine workings, its surface rippling. Numerous streams trickled down the rock walls into it, but its level was holding constant rather than rising with the flow. ‘This must be what’s feeding the waterfalls,’ she said, remembering the cascades falling from the promontory. She aimed her light around the water’s edge, spotting openings in the walls. ‘Looks like they dug flood-control shafts so this place always stayed above water level.’
‘The fresh air must be coming through them,’ said Ziff, joining her. He redirected his beam to the excavations. ‘What were they mining?’
‘I don’t know.’ Their lights picked out a dense vein of some glinting greenish mineral in the exposed stone. ‘Jade, maybe? Or malachite?’
‘Jade would be valuable, but so valuable that Solomon built all this to protect it?’ He shook his head.
Eddie, meanwhile, had gone to the room’s centre. A broad stone plinth was home to a dull grey box, easily overlooked amongst the glinting treasures around it. ‘What’s in this?’ he asked.
Nina followed him. The box was about two feet long and a foot wide and high, its top held in place by bronze clasps. ‘There’s nothing on the box itself, but it’s been given pride of place . . . and it’s made of lead,’ she said with sudden realisation. ‘David – a lead box. What does that sound like?’
Ziff hurried over. ‘This is the Chamber of the Shamir, so – could it be?’ He reached for the container – then hesitated. ‘If it is, then opening it could be dangerous.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Mukobo.
‘According to Hebrew mythology,’ Nina told him, ‘King Solomon kept the Shamir in a lead box, because it was the only thing that could contain its power.’
‘Let’s not forget that the Hebrew mythology about King Solomon also features talking eagles and magic carpets,’ said Brice, scathing. ‘I doubt we have to worry about the wrath of God if we open it. After all,’ he added to Nina, ‘you yourself opened the Ark of the Covenant without being struck dead.’
‘Yeah, but lead?’ said Eddie. ‘I know we did that test with the camera, but it still says one thing to me, and that’s radiation. I wouldn’t want to be the bugger who opens it.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said the ex-MI6 man. ‘Because it’s an excellent suggestion.’
Mukobo exposed his teeth in a humourless grin as he raised his gun. ‘Open it, Chase. When the rest of us are outside, of course.’
E
ddie sighed. ‘Me and my big fucking mouth!’
The others hastened to the entrance, Mukobo keeping his weapon aimed at the Yorkshireman as he retreated. ‘Do it now, Chase,’ he ordered.
Nina watched over the warlord’s shoulder. Eddie gave her a look that was part-way between reassurance and resignation, then released the clasps and opened the lid.
To his relief, he didn’t instantly vaporise or explode into flame. He raised the lead slab higher.
‘What is it?’ Mukobo demanded. ‘Chase! What have you found?’
‘If your idea of treasure is big green pointy stone things,’ Eddie replied, ‘then it’s your lucky day!’
Puzzled, the Congolese returned to the chamber, Nina and the others behind him. The metal casket was lined with the desiccated remnants of a rough fabric. Laid amongst them was exactly what Eddie had described: a horn-shaped piece of glittering greenish mineral about eighteen inches in length. ‘It’s the same stuff they were mining,’ she said.
‘It’s more than that,’ said Ziff, awed. ‘It’s the Shamir! The lead box, the wool – it’s exactly as described in the Babylonian Talmud.’
‘I thought the Shamir was a little worm,’ said Eddie.
‘That was Solomon’s Shamir. But there were supposedly others – Moses used one to engrave the names of the high priests of the twelve tribes of Israel into gemstones. This one, though . . . it is much bigger. Maybe it is the “Mother of the Shamir”?’
‘No,’ Nina said thoughtfully, going to the windows and playing her torch beam over the open mine. ‘That’s the Mother of the Shamir, down there.’ She pointed at the exposed green vein in the rock. ‘It gave birth to the others.’
Ziff nodded. ‘That would make sense, yes. But what is it?’
‘I don’t know.’ She turned – and her light caught something on the plinth’s side that had previously been hidden in shadow. ‘But that might tell us!’
Both archaeologists hurried to it. Their flashlights played over more Hebrew inscriptions. ‘Ah!’ exclaimed Ziff. ‘Another message from Solomon!’
Mukobo came to see. ‘What does it say?’
‘Just a moment, let me read . . .’ The Israeli fell silent as he absorbed the lengthy passage. ‘This is one of several Shamirs, yes – the largest of them all. Solomon says it was the source of the lost empire’s power, and they used it to destroy their enemies.’
‘How?’ asked Brice.
‘I’m not sure. This line here,’ he tapped the stone, ‘says “its gaze fell upon them, and their walls broke and fell, and their weapons burst asunder”.’
‘Not seeing any eyes on it to gaze with,’ noted Eddie. ‘Unless it once had some googly ones stuck on.’
‘It’s the same way the Shamir’s power was described in Hebrew mythology, though,’ said Nina. ‘Solomon built the First Temple by using its gaze to cut the stones.’
‘There’s more,’ said Ziff, still reading. ‘There’s a name here, a place: Jericho.’
Surprise from his audience. ‘As in, famous for its walls?’ asked Eddie.
‘It could be. This says the people of Zhakana took the Shamir as far as Jericho, and used it to bring down their walls.’ He frowned. ‘Although there’s no archaeological evidence that Jericho had any major defensive structures at the time of the Battle of Jericho – or even that the Battle of Jericho ever really took place.’
‘There wasn’t any solid evidence of the empire of Sheba until we found it,’ Nina pointed out, glancing at the statue of Makeda. ‘And considering how old Zhakana is, it might not even be the same Jericho. Names and events get muddled over time.’
‘This is all absolutely fascinating,’ said Brice dismissively, ‘but it still doesn’t explain what this thing is, or how it could be a weapon. It’s just a stone.’
‘And a ruby’s just a ruby, until you focus a laser beam through it,’ she replied. ‘I’ve seen previously unknown substances with weird properties before.’
‘Quite a few times,’ added Eddie.
‘If it is a weapon,’ Ziff went on, ‘then it destroyed its creators as well as their enemies. Solomon said that according to the legends of Sheba, “their greed for more Shamirs caused their own walls to fall, and then their people. Those who were not turned barren gave birth to accursed monsters, twisted and vile. And so ended the great empire of Zhakana, reduced to the City of the Damned. To those who wish to use the Shamir: heed the wisdom of Solomon lest the same happen to you.”’
Eddie regarded the mysterious stone unhappily. ‘Okay, seriously: that thing sounds like some kind of neutron bomb. It’s probably as radioactive as a Chernobyl meat pie.’
‘Radiation can’t cut stones,’ said Brice firmly. ‘If it was some kind of weapon, then that’s not how it worked.’
‘Then we shall find out!’ declared Mukobo. ‘We can buy guns and rocket launchers with the treasure here. But if this stone really is a weapon, then I will use it on my enemies. Their walls will fall – and their heads!’ He shouted a command, and the rest of the Insekt Posse came in. ‘Take everything to the boats. They will help carry it,’ he said of the prisoners.
Luaba gestured for Eddie and Fortune to pick up the Shamir’s casket. ‘No, no,’ said the warlord. ‘I do not trust them. Especially not Chase!’ He pointed at two of the militia. ‘Vous, amenez-le.’
The pair went to the plinth and tried to pick up the box, only to strain in surprise at its weight. Grunting, they hauled it off the plinth. ‘That’ll be tricky to get up the ladder to the surface,’ said Brice.
‘Then we leave the box,’ Mukobo replied. Another instruction, and the men gratefully returned the case to its original position before removing the Shamir. Both looked unsettled at its touch.
‘What did he say?’ asked Nina as one of the men expressed his discomfort.
‘He thought it was . . . electric,’ said the warlord, himself perturbed. ‘But now it has stopped.’
The chamber’s valuables were gathered. ‘We will come back to see if there is more,’ Mukobo proclaimed. ‘Now, go! Allez, vite!’
The journey to the surface was laborious, the weight of Mukobo’s prizes slowing progress. The Insekt Posse were elated by the riches they had found, but the limited conversation amongst the captives was far more muted. ‘I do not know how we can get out of this,’ Fortune murmured to Eddie as the group bunched up at a bridge.
‘Me neither,’ the Yorkshireman replied. ‘Even if we had a big enough distraction to grab some guns, they’ve still got hostages.’
‘Then we need to get our people away from them.’
‘I know. But how? I don’t—’
Luaba struck his rifle’s butt against Eddie’s back. ‘Shut up! Move away from him.’ Shooting the hulking bodyguard an angry glare, Eddie retreated from his friend.
They continued upwards, at last reaching the top of the chasm and re-entering the palace’s tunnels. The three traps were still inactive, everyone passing through safely. Finally, they arrived at the shaft to the roof. ‘Go up and get rope,’ Mukobo ordered. ‘We will use it to lift the treasure.’ The more weighty items were gratefully set down, then some of the Insekt Posse scurried towards daylight.
Nina felt a sick tension, knowing that her usefulness to the warlord would soon be over. But there was something else adding to her nervousness – and it was growing stronger. ‘Lydia,’ she whispered. ‘Is your mic on?’
The New Zealander still had her sound equipment. ‘Yeah,’ she said sullenly. ‘Why?’
‘That weird noise – is it still there?’
The other woman reluctantly donned her headphones. Her expression became one of wary curiosity. ‘Yeah – but it’s changed,’ she said, adjusting dials. ‘The frequency’s different . . . it’s rising. And so’s the intensity.’
‘It’s getting louder?’ Nina’s eyes went to the Shamir. The horn-shaped s
tone rested at the bottom of the shaft, light from high above reflecting faintly from its green surface. She surreptitiously put her palm against the wall beside her. The sensation was almost disturbing, as if the rock was buzzing, squirming under her touch.
‘You feel it too?’ Eddie quietly asked.
‘Yeah. I don’t know what’s causing it . . . but I can take a pretty good guess.’ She eyed the Shamir again. ‘It started when they put it in the light. Maybe it’s reacting to it?’
‘Maybe, but then why would Solomon need to line the place with lead? If he’d wanted to keep it in the dark, just wrapping it in a blanket would’ve done the job.’
They were not the only ones feeling the unsettling effect. The Insekt Posse shifted with growing restlessness. There was considerable relief when ropes eventually dropped from above. ‘Take up the treasure – start with that one,’ ordered Mukobo, pointing at the golden bust before turning to two of his men. ‘You and you, go up and help from the top. Take them with you,’ he added, indicating Ziff and Lydia.
‘What about us?’ Eddie demanded.
‘You, Chase? You are not leaving my sight. Until I am finished with you.’ He smiled, but there was no mistaking the threat.
Militia above and below them, Lydia and Ziff ascended while the bust was secured. Luaba and his other men guarded Nina and Eddie as Mukobo triumphantly watched its journey towards the light.
Brice, meanwhile, had turned his attention to the Shamir. He cautiously touched it, then looked at Nina. ‘As a rule, rocks don’t hum, so clearly this is no ordinary rock. You said you’d seen similar things before – what were they?’
‘Where to start?’ she replied. ‘A crystal that transforms mercury to gold; a meteorite fragment that pumps out enormous amounts of deadly gas when it’s exposed to air; an underground lake of poison that mutates DNA. I’ve even seen stones levitated by the earth’s magnetic field. I’ve done a lot of research into how they could have worked, and the impact they had on ancient cultures. They’ve all become part of myth and legend – just like the Shamir.’
‘So you think this really is a weapon?’