Tomb of Atlantis

by Petersen, Christopher David

  Coming up on the buoy, with his speed dramatically slowing, Jack extended the gaff into the water and watched as it plowed along the surface. Carefully, he guided the hook to the exact path the buoy would pass through.

  “Here it comes,” he said excitedly.

  The buoy slipped past the nose of the plane and under the wing. Jack braced himself and stabbed at the rope as it moved behind the buoy.

  “Got it. Yes!” he yelled out.

  Suddenly, as the buoy came taut against the gaff, it began to pull he out of the plane. Lodging his legs into the doorway, he hung on with all his strength as the weight of the plane carried it forward.

  Desperate to hang on, he forced a tighter grip on the gaff. The plane spun around in the water and came to a slow stop. Jack pulled on the gaff and reeled the buoy in closer, then hooked a line of rope to it and the wing strut.

  “Phew, that was interesting,” Jack said to himself sarcastically. “Probably not the best plan in the world.”

  Having secured the plane to the anchor, he climbed out on the float and sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Staring into the water below, he knew this was his moment of truth, the moment that would define him forever. He swallowed hard and began to prepare for his dive.

  With his wetsuit on and all his gear readied, he sat on the edge of his float and stared down in the darkness. Once again, fear of the unknown created irrational thoughts in his mind. The ocean below him held immense beauty, but now, all he could envision was the fabled sea serpents reported by ancient mariners hundreds of year ago. With his fins dangling in the water, his mind played frightening tricks on him as slight variations in the depths below transformed into savage creatures tearing flesh from his bones.

  Shaking the figment from his thoughts, Jack looked up and viewed the scene around him. Looking out over the vast expanse of nothingness, he forced the irrational fear from his mind and focused on the serenity of the moment. With the early morning seas showing barely a ripple, the tranquil sounds of water lapping the floats helped to put his mind at ease. He forgot his fears of the deep and kicked off the float and into the water. Refocusing on the task at hand, he marked his time, took a large breath of air from his regulator and dipped beneath the surface.

  Jack felt the rush of excitement as he descended. The unknown had now become the known, all but relieving any stress he had felt on the first dive. Following the rope downward, hand over hand, he quickly passed his reserve tank that hung at fifteen feet below the surface. A minute later, he passed by the seventy-five foot marker he had placed on the rope before the trip.

  Looking around, Jack took notice of the visibility: nearly forty feet - slightly better than the previous dive. He felt good that the added visibility would aid in finding the golden artifact.

  He descended further down the rope. Passing the fifty foot marker, he was now in that area of limbo where he could see neither the surface nor the bottom. If it were not for the bubbles of air ascending toward the surface, he would have trouble determining which way was up.

  Jack stopped a moment and switched on his flashlight. Flooding the area in front of him, he still could not see the bottom. Kicking hard, he looked down the rope and spotted the twenty-five foot marker. He knew he'd be seeing the bottom shortly.

  Ignoring the marker on the rope, he now concentrated on the ocean floor. Focusing intently below, he began to see fuzzy edges and nondescript shapes. With his heart continuing to pound, he kicked firmly and swam faster. Instantly, the world below popped into focus.

  With the rope reaching to the ocean's floor, he scanned its length to the bottom, locating the anchor wedged between large boulders. Holding his gauges in hand, he stopped himself at the ten foot level. Kicking his fins, he swam in the direction of his planned course.

  Jack moved along quickly and efficiently, scanning the ocean floor as he passed barnacle-encrusted boulders and long strands of seaweed. Between the boulder fields were tracts of sand that gave light to the area, helping him to see, reducing the need for his flashlight.

  Nearly twenty minutes had passed and Jack had seen nothing. The longer he swam, the more discouraged he became. He could almost feel his dreams vanishing before his eyes. Looking down at his gauges, he knew it was time to turn back.

  “Darn it,” he called out in frustration. “Where is it? I know it’s here somewhere.”

  Jack continued his search for few more minutes, then turned around. He tried to stay positive, but with each boulder he passed without a sighting, he grew more pessimistic. Before he knew it, he was nearing the end of his dive, with the anchor rope now visible twenty feet up ahead.

  “This sucks,” he said through his regulator, sending a large stream of bubbles to the surface. “Now what?” he continued, resigning himself to failure.

  Jack checked his gauges. He swam the return trip in half the time.

  “I’ve got some extra time here,” he said to himself.

  He looked beyond the anchor to where he dove the day before.

  “That’s where I found the urn. I’m betting there’s more stuff over there in that area,” he continued.

  Jack kicked hard and within seconds, swam past the anchor. Paying out rope from his towline, he maintained the same course as the previous day.

  Suddenly, he spotted the shallow ridge-line that had held the urn. Feeling energized, he kicked his fins and moved quickly over the path of elevated rocks. With intense focus, he scanned both sides of the ridge, looking for anything out of character for the surrounding area.

  Moments later, Jack came upon the scarred sight where he had removed the urn the previous day. The freshly removed barnacles were easy to spot from their lighter color. Examining the area once more, he could see the shape of the other urns buried under the heavy cover of barnacles and other crustaceans.

  “This is the spot. There’s got to be something else here,” he said to himself.

  Looking around, he made one last search for the golden pyramid. Pointing his flashlight to the extent of his visibility, he moved the beam of light closer with each pass until the area had been cleared. He continued the process until he had made a three-hundred and sixty degree rotation about his position.

  “Dammit!” he yelled in frustration.

  Checking his gauges once more, he knew he had very little time left to stay and search. Resigning himself to failure, he gave up looking for the pyramid, but wasn’t ready to leave empty handed.

  “How ‘bout one of those urns,” he said to himself, now feeling excited once more.

  Positioning himself slightly below the ridge-line, he stabbed and pulled at the barnacles, trying to remove enough to dislodge one of the urns.

  “Almost there,” he called out as he worked.

  Looking for more leverage, he high stepped over the boulder that held the ancient artifact, and placed his fin on the other side, effectively straddling the ridge-line. In a split second, his foot skated forward as if on ice and he fell over the boulders and rolled onto his back.

  “Goddammit!” he yelled out in anger. “What the hell was that?”

  Quickly, he rolled onto his stomach and then up onto his knees to a sitting position. Looking around, he made sure he hadn't lost anything in the fall. Shining the light around the area, he saw something sticking out from under the rocky barnacles that held the urns.

  “What the hell is that?” he thought.

  Leaning over the rock, he bent down and touched a clear crystal cylinder. Nearly five inches in diameter and sticking out from the rock by a foot, it was the perfect tripping hazard. Looking more closely now, he could see the top surface had been wiped clean.

  “So that’s what I slipped on,” he figured.

  Checking his watch, he had very little air left in his tank. He decided to try and remove the cylinder. Grabbing it with both hands, he shook it lightly. To his surprise, the cylinder moved a bit.

  “Must have loosened it in the fall,” he surmised.

  He move
d to the front of it cylinder and pulled hard. Like a peg through a round hole, the cylinder pulled straight out of the rocks, causing Jack to fall over backwards as he lost his balance. Like before, he rolled over onto his knees to a sitting position, then stood up with the crystal cylinder still in his hand.

  “Wow, this is pretty cool,” he said to himself as he inspected his new-found treasure.

  Wiping the surfaces off with his hands, something caught his eye.

  “No way!” he yelled through his regulator.

  Having cleared off the crystal cylinder, Jack could now see this was not just a big hunk of crystal. This was something more. This crystal had a valuable purpose.

  Jack tried to shake the glass object, but the resistance through the water was too great. The two-foot long crystal was just too big to shake. Taking his hand and placing it on the bottom, he pointed the cylinder straight up. Standing over a rock, he drove the cylinder down onto his hand. He winced a bit, but his actions were well worth the pain.

  Jack's suspicions were confirmed. There was indeed something inside the cylinder. He brought it up to his mask and inspected the contents.

  “What the hell is that, cloth? Why would anyone want to preserve a piece of cloth?” he thought. A moment later, his eyes widened as he guessed the answer excitedly, “Unless the cloth is a flag! Wow, this just keeps getting better... I can't wait to show Moses this one.”

  He carefully placed the crystal cylinder in the hoist bag attached to his hip. Reversing his course, he made his way back to the anchor line being careful not to let the bag drag against the rocks as he swam. With his adrenaline pumping, he swam hard and fast and arrived at the anchor in minutes.

  Jack wasted little time. He angled his body upward, pushed off hard, and started his ascent following the anchor line higher. Having passed the twenty-five foot maker, he slowed his ascent to control decompression. Passing the fifty foot marker, he checked his gauges once more to confirm his air supply. Feeling confident now, he kept his pace steady as he swam higher, all the while checking on his precious cargo.

  In what seemed like seconds, in reality took minutes. Jack slowed his ascent as he neared the spare tank hanging fifteen feet below the surface. Once there, he clipped into the rope and began to wait out the time for decompression.

  Suspended in the water, waiting for time to pass, Jack's mind began to work in tangents as he speculated on other artifacts that might be located near the original find. He now had in his possession two ancient artifacts of incalculable importance and value. How did they get there? If he found those artifacts with simple searching, what would he find if he probed more aggressively?

  Twenty minutes passed quickly and soon Jack floated to the surface. He swam to the edge of the floats and lifted himself up and onto them. Pulling the hoist bag out of the water, he placed it onto the netting that spanned between the floats. Too excited to remove any of his gear, he slowly pulled out the contents of the bag and laid it carefully out on the makeshift hammock for inspection and admiration.

  “Wow, this is amazing!” he said loudly.

  He rotated the heavy crystal cylinder in his hand, examining every inch of its surface. Under the water, one hundred feet below, diffused lighting and optical distortion degraded any attempt at an accurate analysis, but now, viewing it directly in bright sunlight, Jack could make out every intricate detail on the surface. Turning it over and over, he became mesmerized by each new-found discovery.

  As he examined the specimen, he noticed unique hieroglyphics and detailed images lightly etched on the outside surface. Inside the glass cylinder, the ancient cloth appeared to be perfectly dry and intact as if someone had placed it in there the day before.

  Jack turned the cylinder over and around, looking for a way to open it somehow to access the contents. He felt puzzled. Frowning a bit, he realized there were no seams that indicated any covers or openings. It was as if someone, somehow made the cloth magically appear inside the solid piece of crystal.

  "Unbelievable. The craftsmanship is like nothing I've ever seen before," he said, a bit bewildered. "How the hell did they do that?"

  Jack's head was spinning. He wanted more; he needed more. Who were these amazing people that could create such beauty? How were they able to create such a work of art with ancient tools, which seemed impossible to create in today's advanced technology? What other wonders lay hidden on ocean's floor?

  In classic Schwarzenegger fashion, he uttered the simple phrase, “I’ll be back.”

  ----- ----- ----- -----

  “Moses, get on the horn to Serena Arista! She’s got more work to do,” Jack blurted out as he burst through the front door of the FBO.

  “Jack, you’re back. And in one piece,” Moses replied, a bit startled by Jack’s sudden entry.

  Eying the two-foot long crystal cylinder in Jack’s hand, he instantly became mesmerized by its beauty.

  “Jack, that’s exquisite. Where did you find it?”

  “Remember the urn I found yesterday?” he asked rhetorically. “Well, it was sticking out from below the others in the pile. I actually slipped on it and fell.”

  Moses carefully took the cylinder from Jack’s hands and examined it. Turning it over and over, he rubbed his fingers along the intricate carvings on its outside surface. Holding it close to his face, his eyes widened as he realized the value of the contents.

  Moses handed the crystal cylinder back to Jack. His face lost all expression and became serious.

  “Jack, does anyone else know about this… this spot of yours?” he asked in a determined tone.

  “Not really. Since I’ve been here, I’ve only really had time to talk to you and Serena Arista.”

  “You realize something this valuable will draw the roaches from the woodwork, don’t you? If I were you, I’d keep that location to myself,” Moses said.

  “You think someone might try to steal my site out from under me?” Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Let’s just say, your fear of sharks shouldn’t end once you leave the water,” he replied ominously.

  “Hmm, good point,” Jack replied.

  Atlantis - Chapter 8

  Jack pulled into the parking lot of Javier Arista’s offices and quickly hurried into the building for his appointment with Serena. Wrapped in towels, he held the crystal cylinder under his arm. He felt excited and energized by his new treasure and waited impatiently for her to appear.

  “Hello, anyone home?” he called out, hoping for a reply.

  Not hearing a response, he called out once more, “Hello, Serena, I’m here for my appointment?”

  Jack heard the sound of footsteps growing louder. Moments later, a short, overweight, and balding man stepped through the door at the back of the office. As he approached, Jack guessed his age to be in his mid-fifties and quickly realized that he must be Javier.

  “Are you Javier Arista?” Jack asked as the man approached.

  “In the flesh,” Javier replied with wide, inviting smile. “You must be Jack Roberts, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Javier extended his hand and shook Jack’s with energy and vigor.

  “Yes sir. I’m here for my appointment.”

  “Appointment? We’re not that formal around here, Jack. This is an archeological office. We fly by the seat of our pants most of the time,” he joked. “And no need to call me ‘sir,’ either. Everyone around here just calls me Javi.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Arista,” he replied, somewhat surprised by Javi’s casual demeanor.

  “Just Javi, Jack… no need for formalities,” Javier responded, still smiling.

  Jack quickly eyed Javier head to toe and remembered Moses’ description: ‘Not your stereotypical archaeologist.’ He had to laugh. Javier’s stature was anything but the strong and imposing Indiana Jones image he had etched in his mind from years back. Although his physical appearance was unimpressive, his piercing green eyes told a different story. Staring back at him, Javier's eyes exuded confi
dence as well as class that left no doubt in his mind that he was every bit the archaeologist Moses described.

  “Well Jack, looks like you’ve discovered quite a find, haven’t you?” he said, now getting to the point.

  “Yes, sir, I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Jack replied, offering Javier the towel-wrapped cylinder under his arm.

  “What’s this?” he responded, somewhat confused.

  “This is my new find,” Jack replied proudly.

  “A new find?” Javier asked, now taking the package from Jack and unwrapping it.

  “Yes sir, I found a container made of crystal with some kind of cloth inside. I think it might be a flag or something like that.”

  “Oh my God!” Javi blurted out instantly, nearly cutting Jack off in mid-sentence. “Jack, this is exquisite. I can’t be sure, but I think the contents are leather and I’m guessing that that leather all rolled up isn’t a flag either. I think they’re scrolls.”

  “Scrolls?” Jack exclaimed.

  Javier nodded simply.

  Javi rolled the crystal cylinder around in his hands, examining the surface as well as the contents. He seemed to be looking for something.

  “Huh. This is a first,” he said.

  “What’s that?” Jack asked.

  “I can’t seem to find a way into the chamber,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his work.

  “I know. I looked for an indication of separation but found nothing,” Jack replied. “I can’t figure out how the contents got in there. Must be the reason they stayed dry all these years.”

  “Undoubtedly, Jack. What’s more remarkable is the technology they used to make this thing. I’m not sure we could make this today. I’m really baffled,” he responded.

  “That’s what I thought too. I know there’s an opening somewhere on it, but the seam that indicates it is invisible, at least to the naked eye anyway. I’m an engineer and have quite a bit of knowledge about manufacturing processes and I just can’t figure out how anyone could make the seam so precise that it virtually disappears when assembled,” Jack elaborated.