Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3)

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Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3) Page 10

by Christopher Cartwright


  Andrew leveled the gun with the running child and took aim. “I would kill every single one of their kids, if I thought it might provide a lead to the location of Atlantis.”

  His finger began to squeeze the trigger.

  “Wait!” It was a woman who came running.

  “Yes?”

  “I know where they’ve gone.”

  “Good. Take us there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Edward Worthington looked around the ancient Atlantean vault, where their history had been recorded over the millennia. Several tunnels lined the passageways. The biggest room of them all had walls and walls of ancient writings, followed by circles of information on the ceiling, which he recognized as being the same pictographic text he’d seen in Atlantis.

  At the end of the room were three fully decomposed bodies, the remnants of Himmler’s last expedition. The man who’d started the Nazi SShad pursued his crazy idea to find the Atlantis people who shared the perfect Aryan bloodline.

  The spear through their heads made him wonder if he was not wrong to come with only Dr. Swan and Mark, as his bodyguard.

  Dr. Swan audibly gasped when she saw it. Not the remains, but the glowing pile next to them. It must have contained more than a thousand pieces of orichalcum – the ancient gold and copper alloy the Atlanteans once mined.

  “They had to prepare themselves for the return of their city,” Edward said, noticing Billie’s astonishment. “When it came, the Atlantean survivors knew they would need gold to be in a position to make it great again, so they stockpiled what remained here.”

  “Yes. It must be worth a fortune.”

  “Forget about the gold. It’s worthless if we can’t find the solution to the code of Atlantis, in the midst of these thousands of ancient notes. Without that code, the sphere will be locked until it is too late. If we fail in our task, the gold will have no meaning to any of us!”

  “It could take months to make sense of all of this.”

  Edward raised his voice. “We don’t have months. We have a little less than three weeks.”

  He watched as Billie’s shrewd mind explored the cavern.

  “I’ve found it.”

  “What is it?”

  “The code, to Atlantis, of course.”

  “That’s wonderful news!”

  “Only it’s missing half of it.”

  “What do you mean, its missing half of it?”

  “I was worried about this. In my earlier research, I found reference to two groups of Atlantean survivors. One went east and set up camp high in these Tibetan mountains, while the other went somewhere completely different, presumably west.”

  “But to where?” Edward asked.

  “The two groups must not have trusted each other not to steal the most valuable remnants of Atlantis. So consequently, they broke the code into two parts and split them between the two groups.”

  “Fine. So what now, we need to know where the other group are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here it is. A map to their other settlement.”

  Edward studied the rudimentary map. The depiction of the African continent wasn’t exact, but nonetheless it was impossible to deny what he was seeing. He listened to her read the description. Only a few people on the planet knew how to read the ancient text. Dr. Swan, he noticed knew more about it than she’d revealed to him in their previous discussion. It was obvious, that she was nearly fluent in the ancient language.

  He watched as Billie took several pictures of the map on her tablet.

  “Can we destroy the map now Dr. Swan?”

  “I don’t see why. You and I are the only two people to know of its existence.”

  “And Mark, but I pay him well enough to keep any secret. Even so, no reason to take chances. Mark, bring a grenade in here. I want this destroyed.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Edward watched as she marked some notes on one of the blank circles. “So you really can understand this?”

  “I have an idea. They’re similar to something I saw inside the Mayan pyramid beneath the ocean in the Gulf of Mexico. I just wanted to test my theory.”

  “And what does it mean?”

  “Well, if I’m right…” Dr. Swan said while she ran her fingers along the groves of the hieroglyphic, “then this is a map to the other group of descendants.”

  “Other group of descendants?”

  “Yes. As this building is testament to, not all died during the sinking of Atlantis. By the looks of things, it was decided to split the two groups up and send them in different directions to protect the knowledge of the future.”

  Mark came back into the tunnel from the opening. “It’s time to go. We have company.”

  “Andrew Brandt or Sam Reilly?” Edward asked, reaching for his binoculars.

  “Sam Reilly. But if he’s this far up the mountain, you can be sure that Andrew won’t be far off.”

  “How far away?”

  “Less than a day’s climb. He’ll be here by nightfall!” Mark replied.

  “Okay, we’ll leave soon.” Edward looked at Dr. Swan. “You want to go back for them, don’t you?”

  Dr. Swan smiled at him. “They could help us.”

  “You know that’s not possible, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Andrew’s gaining on us, Dr. Swan. And unless you like the concept of losing in this race, I suggest we come up with a plan to throw them off our tail.”

  She paused, a piece of chalk in her hand.

  And then wrote a note followed by several numbers in the ancient text, before writing in plain English: Love, From Billie.

  Edward studied the numbers.

  They were written in the ancient text he’d not fully mastered, but the numbers were clear enough. There was something strangely familiar about them. They were GPS coordinates, of course. But where? Then it hit him.

  “Very good, Dr. Swan. But don’t you think they’ll know that anything of any value was destroyed there more than a hundred years ago by the American expedition?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Above them, Sam Reilly thought he heard the distant sound of thunder. A crude signal of an avalanche, perhaps? Or worse, someone had beaten them to it. He looked above, where the opening to the cave should have been, another 6000 feet above them.

  “Avalanche?” Tom asked.

  “Maybe, but it must have been a long way off. If it was above us, we’d have known about it by now.”

  “I almost thought it sounded like the echo of a grenade.”

  “Then they’ve already beaten us to it?” The thought brought the urgency back into Sam’s mind. “Come on. We’re close. Maybe there’s still time to save her.”

  It was early the next morning by the time they reached the opening to the Atlantean Archives. It was built by two rocks overlapping. From the air or the ground, it appeared as one only, but once you stood directly next to it, you could see that there was an opening. It wasn’t very large – big enough for only one person to slip through at a time.

  Sam was the first to enter the cave.

  He squeezed his broad shoulders through first, with his hands out in front of him, then wriggled until the rest of his body followed. Once on the other side, he was able to stand up in what appeared to be a large cavern. Dark as the deepest sea, and for a moment he thought that it was nothing more than a naturally-formed cave. A musky smell appeared to pervade the emptiness of the cavern. He struck a large glow stick and threw it into the cavern.

  The room lit up with the bright glow of light.

  “Tom, squeeze your lanky self in here. You’re going to want to see this!”

  His friend shuffled into the room. “What have you found?” Tom stared up at the grand room and then said, “Holy shit! It’s Atlantis!”

  The walls were massive, giving it the appearance of a football stadium more than a cavern, except for the fact that the roof
was quite low. So much so that Sam found himself capable of easily running his hands along it as he walked. At least two hundred circles could be seen covering the roof, and a maze of pictographs and hieroglyphics inside them. The circles that formed the roof were carved from ivory. The walls themselves were made of stone, but a multitude of sapphires embedded in them glowed like stars under the glow stick’s reflection.

  “What’s that scent?” Sam asked, as he walked forward. “It’s fresh. Whatever caused it has been here in recent weeks.”

  “Musk. And its Billie’s cheap deodorant she uses on her expeditions. We must have only just missed her.”

  They walked further into the cavern.

  At the far end of the room the remains of four people appeared. They wore Nazis uniforms and the insignia of the Schutzstaffel – the elite SS guard. Sam looked down at their remains. “Who would have thought they were so close to finding Atlantis?”

  “The Nazis?” Tom laughed. “What the hell would they want with an ancient civilization?”

  “Heinrich Himmler, the man who started the original SS, believed strongly in the perfect bloodline and noble DNA. Like Adolf Hitler, he was obsessed with the concept that Germany came from a powerful bloodline. Throughout the war, they spent a fortune trying to find Atlantis, believing that Germany had originated from it.” Sam looked at them and shook his head. “Himmler made declarations that they had found Atlantis and were in the process of proving their pure heritage, but no one actually believed any of it. Everyone just assumed it was another one of Hitler’s propaganda machines working in overdrive.”

  Tom looked at the spears that still rested inside each of the men. “Well, there’s a bit of useless trivia for your children. They got close, but look what they got for their efforts.”

  “It’s a timely reminder to us not to become complacent here. This place, as with the real Atlantis, may still be protected by a number of booby traps.”

  “That’s impossible. Surely their springs, coils, and firing mechanisms must have broken over the centuries?”

  “Yes, but as we have already learned, there are still direct descendants of Atlantis very much alive and keen to protect the secrets stored here.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Tom stared at it in awe. “It could take us more than a year and an army of archeologists to make sense of this cavern, let alone where they have taken Billie.”

  “The good news is this isn’t Atlantis,” Sam replied. “And that means they’ll want to keep Billie alive, and that we probably still have a chance. We just need to find where they’re headed.”

  “Still, we’d have to get pretty lucky to make any sense of this in time to catch up. If they’ve already been and left, then we know they got whatever they need from here.”

  “Yes, but whoever built this did so to be a library of their history. Therefore, we should find a logical sequence.” Sam scanned through the rows upon rows of circles, until her reached a blank area. “There. The circles are empty.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Those are empty folders, still yet to be filled with the writings of Atlantis,” Sam said while he studied the entry to the last circle. “It says that Atlantis is due to be activated again…”

  “Activated again?” Tom looked surprised. “How do you know how to read ancient Atlantis texts?”

  “Because this is the same language the Master Builders used.”

  “Can you read what else it says?”

  “Unless the proper code is input once more – and then it has some sort of date, but I can’t work it out. I can read the numbers but I have no idea about their calendar to make any sense of it.”

  “Code to Atlantis? Input into what? Did these people have computers or something?”

  “I have no idea,” Sam replied shaking his head. “Now I really wish Billie were here.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing when Atlantis becomes activated?” Tom suggested.

  “Hang on a second. Over here.” Next to the strange symbol, Sam saw something that translated to: Activation Dates for Atlantis. There were five dates: 120040, 40200; 18007; 1000 and 23. “Look the periods between the dates are getting smaller each time.” Four of the dates had been scratched with stone, as though someone was writing them off a list of things to do. But one was still yet to happen.

  “Yes, but what do they mean?”

  “Beats me. I’m just translating.”

  “18,000 – Could we be talking somewhere around 18,000 years ago?”

  “No. I don’t even know if these are dates. Even if I were sure they were dates, it wouldn’t help us because it’s highly unlikely the Atlanteans used a measurement of time that exactly matches ours. And even then, if they did, we still don’t know that their math matches ours.”

  “I thought math was supposed to be the one universal constant?”

  “In principle it is. But there are a number of ways of doing things, and just because we liked the concept of base ten, doesn’t mean that other cultures did too. For example, the Mayans used base twelve, while numerous tribes around the world used base eight because they counted the spaces between their fingers to make the number eight, instead of the fingers.”

  “So, you’re telling me we just have some random numbers that could mean anything, but most likely represent some time or event in the past?”

  “That’s pretty much the gist of it.” Sam looked helpful and then said, “Or even the future.”

  Tom stared at the ceiling again, without any recognition in any of it. “I just got an idea,” he said, handing Sam a piece of paper. “Write those numbers down for me. And the number at the end of the final circle. I’ll put them into your tablet while you decipher the rest. Maybe it can make the translation somehow, or at least make the reference to significant events in history?”

  Sam handed him the numbers and Tom carefully typed them into the tablet and then ran a search for any similarities, order, or obvious codes. When that came up with nothing, he then ran the dates by significant archeological events.

  Again, it came up with nothing.

  It was a long shot, he knew. After all, the numbers were unlikely to relate to any dates based on current calendar dating systems. Then he realized how he could combine the tests to achieve a possible answer.

  He assigned a random number against each date and then compared the difference between each of them with any known archeological events recorded. Big events, was what he was after, specifically. This time, the computer gave him a simple list.

  He had no way of telling the time between each event on its own, but now he could compare them all and the computer could determine a probable dating of the numbers they had found.

  Tom stared at the simple answers.

  His face turned pale, and his hands sweaty.

  “What is it?”

  “The numbers 18007 appears to match up with the date Atlantis sunk and more importantly, the end of the last Ice Age. Prior to that, the Atlantean year 40200 relates to the approximate start of the Ice Age. And 120040, seems pretty close to when the dinosaurs disappeared. Each time it was activated, an Ice Age either started or ceased. Either way, it didn’t work out so crash hot for the planet’s inhabitants.”

  “You mean, this thing’s wiping the slate clean? It’s removing all creatures who have not succeeded in evolving to the next level?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me, and it gets worse.”

  “Really. How much worse can it get?”

  Tom sighed. “So I put that final date into the computer…”

  “And?”

  “It says we have three weeks until it’s activated again.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sam looked around the rest of the vast room in frustration.

  “None of this helps us find Atlantis so we can rescue Billie.”

  “Don’t forget working out how to stop Atlantis from activating and killing us all!” Tom reminded him.

  “Yeah, there’s that to
o.”

  “Okay, so let’s break this down. Billie tells me that this isn’t the first time you investigated the Master Builders. So, what’s your process?”

  Sam began to list them. “Okay, I need to scan as many of these images onto the computer as we can and let the computer identify any references to the location of Atlantis. They only recently left, which means they found what they were looking for. So they either got really lucky, or it’s obvious.”

  “Okay, I’ll get started.”

  Within ten minutes Tom called out to him.

  “Look at that!”

  The ceiling was destroyed. Someone had intentionally blown up that section of the roof. Around a dozen circular ‘files” were lost.

  “There must have been something important there, which whoever has Billie doesn’t want us to find out.”

  “Now what the hell do we do?”

  “We need to keep looking. Billie’s smarter than the two of us put together. She knows that this is the only lead we have on Atlantis, so she wouldn’t risk losing us by leaving without some way of letting us follow.”

  It was more than two hours before they found the next clue.

  Sam stared at the ceiling. His neck was starting to ache from the hours of looking upwards. Inside an area of blank circles, a new text had been written. Instead of being chiseled into the ceiling like the others, it was written with a cheap fluorescent permanent marker.

  It was written in the language of the Master Builders.

  Dear Sam,

  You will find answers at these coordinates. There is another temple of Atlantis.

  I will try to stall them as long as I can.

  At the end of the note, she had left a set of GPS coordinates.

  “Okay, it’s time to go,” Sam said.

  “Where?”

  Sam put the coordinates into his computer and replied, “Siberia.”

  “What’s in Siberia?”

  “According to Billie, Atlantis.”

  “It’s in Siberia. How did Billie work that out from the notes we found in the sunken pyramid in the Gulf of Mexico?”

 

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