Tomb of Atlantis

by Petersen, Christopher David

  Jack looked into Moses’ eyes. The hard, cantankerous old man had transformed into a soft, caring gentleman.

  “I knew it. I knew you were a nice guy,” Jack blurted out, grinning ear to ear.

  “You tell anyone and we might have to tangle. A reputation like that will only invite looosers, if you know what I mean,” Moses said, drawing out the word ‘losers’ and closing one eye in a slow exaggerated wink.

  Jack chuckled at the old man’s choice of words and nodded simply, politely agreeing to the deal. Turning back toward the FBO, Jack inquired further about the shower he had requested earlier.

  “So, do you have a garden hose around here somewhere? The salt from the previous dive has me sticking to everything.”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. We have a changing room with a shower in the back of the building. It’s supposed to be for the commercial pilots, but the damn fools never use it. Always waste their money on showers at one of those fancy hotels. You’re welcomed to it if you’d like,” Moses said, then added, “Just don’t tell anyone. I don’t want any losers hanging around my FBO, if you know what I mean.”

  “Do you get a lot of losers in here?” Jack asked, more out of politeness than genuine interest.

  “The islands brings ‘em outta the woodwork… with their fancy planes and flaunting their money. Just makes me sick,” Moses responded, his tone becoming sharp and negative once more.

  “Well, I’m not one of those losers. My plane isn’t fancy and I don’t even have money for cab fare,” Jack joked.

  “No cab fare?” Moses asked, incredulously. “How the heck do you plan on getting around?”

  “Ok, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. I’ll be picking up a rental shortly,” he smiled.

  Moses thought for a moment, then responded, “I do have loner car I could let you borrow while you’re here, if you’re interested. No one ever inquires about it, so it just sits in the parking lot baking in the hot sun all day. It runs real good too. I drive it around every so often so it won’t dry up on me.”

  “Wow, that would be great. I owe you one,” Jack responded happily.

  Moses began to take a liking to Jack’s easy going and good natured personality. Lowering his guard further, he said, “You know, the hotels on this island are really expensive. If you like the couch, feel free to borrow it while you’re here.”

  “Are you sure? I’d hate to put anyone out,” Jack replied.

  “Don’t worry about it. No one ever uses it,” Moses responded simply.

  “I don’t know what to say. I can’t thank you enough,” Jack said, then added, “I feel like I should pay you something for it.”

  “Well, if you feel that strongly about it, cut me in on the treasure,” Moses said, smiling for the first time since they spoke.

  “Sixty forty split?” Jack joked.

  “I hope you’re comfortable with the forty,” Moses said, smiling.

  “Only if you’re comfortable with a check,” Jack replied with a fiendish grin.

  OFFICE OF JAVIER ARISTA:

  Jack turned off the main street and into a small parking lot. Pulling up to a sun-bleached brick building, he read the sign out in front: “Javier Arista – Archaeologist.”

  “Ok, Mr. Arista, tell me some good news,” he said to himself, as he stepped from the car.

  With the heavy urn carefully tucked under his arm, he made his way into the building. Stepping through the front door, the office seemed small, with only a couple of desks, some filing cabinets, and a glass curio with several bones in it that Jack presumed were ancient artifacts.

  Looking at his watch, he checked the time, “Four thirty. Hope they’re still here.”

  “Hello, you must be Jack Roberts,” a soft voice called from behind him. “I’m Serena.”

  Jack turned just as the young woman closed the door to another room and entered the main office area. Walking toward him, he noticed her soft, Latin features. With long dark hair, deep brown eyes, and an athletic build, Jack found himself staring as she neared.

  Shy and slightly introverted around beautiful women—Jack felt the heat radiate from his cheeks as his face reddened. Quickly, he refocused his mind on the urn, hoping to distract himself from her beauty.

  As Serena approached, she extended her hand and Jack quickly grasped it and gave it a soft shake.

  “Nice to meet you, Serena. I’m looking for Javier Arista. I have an appointment with him,” he said.

  Serena pointed to the old relic under Jack’s arm and said, “So, is that the urn you called about? May I see it?”

  “Certainly,” Jack replied, then added, “Will Javier be here shortly?”

  Taking the urn, she held it up in front of her and examined some of the surfaces that became exposed after it broke free from the barnacles. Rubbing her fingers over it, she nodded approvingly.

  “Jack, this is very interesting. Moses Rankin told me you found this in the ocean? I’d be curious to see more of the site you found this in,” Serena said.

  “Moses talked to you? I thought he spoke with Javier Arista,” he replied, then asked once more, “Will Javier be here shortly? He was supposed to examine the urn himself.”

  “Yes Jack, Javier’s here. He’s in the back working on other artifacts. He usually leaves the initial analysis to me. I’m his assistant. I hope you don’t mind,” Serena replied.

  “Oh, Ok. Are you also an archaeologist?” Jack asked, trying to be delicate so as not to sound insulting.

  “No Jack, I’m just the cleaning lady,” Serena teased, “but Javier lets me look at this stuff when I’ve finished cleaning the toilets.”

  Jack’s face reddened once more.

  “Jack, I’m just teasing. No need to feel embarrassed,” she said, then added, “and yes, I’m also an archaeologist.”

  Leading Jack to one of the empty desks, she sat down and continued her examination. Taking out a large magnifying glass, a small pick and a set of forceps, she began to carefully pull away some of the barnacles. After more surface area was exposed, she examined the urn under high-intensity lighting.

  “Hmm, interesting,” she said as she slowly turned the ancient artifact.

  “What’s interesting?” Jack asked, becoming excited.

  “Well, I can’t be sure, but I think I’m seeing ancient hieroglyphics embedded in the face of this urn. I can feel their features as I rub the pick over them,” she replied.

  Grabbing Jack’s hand, she said, “Here, touch this area. Do you feel the indentations?”

  Jack’s heart raced momentarily as her warm hand touched his. His face began to turn red once again and he forced his mind to concentrate on the urn.

  “Yes, I think I do feel the symbols,” he replied. “Can you make any of them out?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t. There’s just too much scaling and buildup on the surface. I’m going to need to run this through an acid bath,” Serena said. “With your permission, of course,” she added with a smile.

  “Acid bath. How long do you think that might take?” he asked.

  “Well, this urn’s been down there a long time. It’s in pretty bad shape. In fact, I can’t even begin to guess from what culture it belongs to. I’m guessing it could take least a couple of weeks. Is that Ok with you?” she responded.

  “Hm, I didn’t plan on being down here that long. Any way to speed things up?”

  “Well, in the area you already cleared, I might be able to clean away enough build-up and scaling to make identification sooner, but I wouldn’t even think about working on the rest until it’s been properly treated. I know I said it’s in bad shape, but I do think it’s worth preserving.”

  Jack thought for a moment, then said, “Looks like I don’t have much of a choice. I do have a couple more dives to do, so maybe I’ll get lucky and you can get it done sooner.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Serena replied, then asked, “Speaking of dives, where did you find this? The area around the i
slands has been picked clean by divers over the years, so it’s pretty exciting that you found a spot that hasn’t been visited yet.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say it was around the island, per se. I found it about fifty miles off shore to the southeast, in a hundred feet of water,” he responded.

  “Fifty miles?” Serena blurted out with surprise. “What would make you look for something that far out?”

  “It’s a long story. I basically found the area by chance,” Jack said.

  “I’d like to hear more about this ‘chance area’ if you don’t mind, Jack,” she replied.

  Jack spent the next half hour conveying the details of his climbing adventure in Peru several years before, that led up to his latest adventure. Captivated and enthralled, she listened to every word Jack spoke. When he was finished, she sat back in her chair and pondered the details.

  “Wow, Jack, you’ve had quite an adventure. That’s an amazing story,” she complimented.

  “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” he joked, now bravely flirting.

  “Yes… well, if I need more, I’ll let you know,” Serena replied, delicately rejecting Jack’s subtle advance.

  Hiding the pain of rejection, he refocused on the urn.

  “So you think you might have something in a couple of days?” he asked.

  “It’s a day by day process. There’s no telling how long or how short it will be. If you want, you could stop by tomorrow and check the progress, say around four-ish?” she responded.

  “It’s a date,” Jack replied.

  “It’s an appointment,” Serena corrected, with a cordial smile.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING:

  Jack’s eyes snapped open as he lay on the couch in the pilot’s lounge. Bringing his cheap digital watch to his face, he pressed a button on its side and lit up the dial.

  “Four fifty-four,” he said to himself softy.

  Jack had gone to sleep early the previous night, but the mounting excitement of the urn’s origin and the anticipation of the next day’s dive, caused him to toss and turn nearly all night long.

  “Well, no time like the present,” he said aloud.

  After obtaining a weather briefing and a cup of stale coffee, he readied himself and the plane for an early morning departure. Having downed two cups and a package of vending machine donuts, he made one last check of the weather and wave reports and headed out to the plane.

  Standing on the tarmac of general aviation parking, he breathed in the balmy ocean air that blew in just beyond the end of the runway. With an orange glow that was breaking just above the horizon, he felt invigorated as he took a moment to enjoy the picturesque scenery.

  Suddenly, the serenity was broken as a car horn blared from behind. Startled by the early morning intrusion, he spun around quickly to investigate the offending sound. With his arm extended from the car window, Moses Rankin waved a morning salutation to Jack.

  “What in the blazes are you doing up so early, Jack?” Moses hollered playfully from inside his car.

  Moses drove up into the restricted parking zone and parked next to Jack. He flung open his door and carefully worked his old, tired body out of his seat. Standing now, he continued his mock interrogation.

  “I oughta give you a good kick in the seat. Those damn dives are dangerous enough without you short-changing what your body needs most: and that’s a good night’s sleep,” he chastised. “What’re doing up so dang early for?”

  “Well, good morning to you too, Moses,” Jack replied with a great toothy smile, purposely ignoring Moses’ remonstrations.

  Switching gears, Moses turned his attention to another topic.

  “So, did you see Javier Arista yesterday?”

  “Not really. I did meet his assistant, Serena, though. She’s handling the clean-up of the urn… told me to stop by later on today. She thinks she might have some of the urn’s surface exposed by then,” Jack replied, then added, “The suspense is killing me.”

  “Ah, Serena. She’s a good kid. She’ll do a great job. Her father taught her everything he knows, and then some,” Moses responded.

  “Her father? Who's her father?”

  “Son, did someone drop you on your head a child?” Moses joked, then continued, “Javier is her father. Who else do you think she’d be working for?”

  “Oh, I get it…” Jack replied simply, feeling a bit embarrassed

  “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that there are a couple of storms brewing off the coast of Africa. This is hurricane season by the way, so you'd better keep a watchful eye on the weather," he said in a firm tone.

  "Yeah, I saw them when I got my weather report this morning. They could take a couple of weeks to get here, so I'm not worried," Jack replied, nonchalantly.

  "Not worried?" he shot back with heightened intensity. "Jack, hurricanes are nothing to fool around with. Their effects can be felt long before they reach us."

  "I understand, but I'm figuring I should be long gone by the time they get here," Jack responded confidently.

  "I've lived here most of my life and have seen the effects they've had on boaters that didn't account for their long reach. Violent storms can crop up out of nowhere because of it and if you're out there when that happens, it could easy capsize your plane," Moses explained.

  "I'll make sure I stay observant," he replied, placating Moses with his response.

  As he finished preflighting his plane, Moses stood by and watched. Jack could sense his eyes with every move he made. He knew Moses had more to say but was having trouble putting it into words.

  "Moses, you look like something's on your mind. Is there something else you wanted to say?" Jack asked, now directly facing Moses.

  Struggling to find the words, Moses opened his mouth several times but made no sound. Seeing the worry in his friend's eyes, Jack placed his hand on Moses' shoulder and spoke some simple words of consolation.

  "Moses, I know this is a dangerous trip and I know you’re worried about that fact. I promise you I won't be taking any unnecessary chances. I value my life way too much to take all of this lightly," he said.

  Moses stared back at him. He clearly wanted to say more, but something held him back. With a simple nod, he accepted Jack's response. There was nothing more he could do.

  Getting back into his car, he rolled down his window.

  "So what time do you plan on being back," he asked.

  "No later than ten o'clock," Jack replied confidently.

  Placing his car in gear, he nodded a goodbye to Jack and drove off.

  Atlantis - Chapter 7

  With his gear loaded into the plane, he set his GPS's to the previous dive's location and started the engine. He gave a short burst of power and brought the small float plane to a roll. Jack looked out his window and waved a goodbye to Moses.

  Standing just past the wing with his arms folded, Moses watched with disconcerted eyes. Jack read the expression on his face. It was the same expression his parents wore as he was leaving just days before and reminded him that he needed to call when he returned.

  As Moses watched him enter the taxiway, he uttered a simple sentence: “Stay safe.”

  Lined up on the runway, Jack advanced the throttle to “full” and felt his plane inch down the tarmac. Moments later, he hauled back on the control stick and watched the ground fall away. He turned onto his course and noted the time:

  “Seven-o-eight.”

  Ten minutes later, flying along at three thousand feet, he admired the morning. Bright, warm, and cloudless, it was a picture perfect day. Looking down at the sea below, the surface seemed almost glass-like.

  “No wind... Yesss!” he called out to himself. “What a great day to fly.”

  As he did in his previous flight, he watched civilization slowly disappear the farther he flew from land, leaving him alone in the middle of the vast ocean. Aside from the occasional white caps, his only entertainment came from watching the sun’s rays reflect off the ocean's s
urface.

  He took out his binoculars and scanned the horizon. Flying now for forty-five minutes, he knew somewhere out there was his buoy. Searching in a narrow band beyond the plane's nose, the tiny buoy was still undetectable.

  Jack began his descent. He pushed the stick forward and reduced his power slightly, changing the plane’s angle from straight and level to a five-hundred-foot-per-minute descent. With the nose of the plane angled dramatically downward, it gave him a commanding view of the ocean below.

  Moments later, while looking through his binoculars, his heart started to race. There, less than a mile away, was the red and white buoy floating in the water, guiding him in for a pinpoint landing.

  “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” he remarked at how easy his task had become.

  Jack lowered his water rudder, reduced power, and watched the horizon as a means to gauge his descent. Scanning continuously between his altimeter and the horizon, he slowly crept closer to the water. Little by little, he watched the feet slowly tick away as he descended.

  Jack felt the first touch of water pass through the floats. With intense concentration, he watched the horizon and reduced power again. Slightly harder this time, another small wave rolled through the floats once more. Holding the altitude of the plane stable, he continued to bleed off power, letting the plane plow through the oncoming obstacles until the occasional strike felt like a continuous pounding.

  In seconds, the plane settled into the water, skimming along the top at a brisk speed. He cut the power and used his water rudders to steer him at the looming buoy ahead of him.

  With the buoy firmly secured by an anchor, Jack extended a gaff into the water and waited to hook the anchor line from the previous flight. As long as he wasn't traveling too fast, the hookup would be an easy procedure. Unfortunately, Jack's speed was slightly faster than he anticipated.

  Taking corrective action, he opened both doors to the plane as wide as he could hold them open, creating aerodynamic breaking. While he did, he alternated between pressing right rudder and left rudder, trying to induce further drag on the floats.