The Atlantis Code

by Charles Brokaw

  “At least, not really wrong. You’re a guy and you have some basic limitations. And you aren’t, as a species, terribly loyal.”

  In the corner of the truck, Gallardo and one of his men listened to this conversation and grinned.

  “Perhaps there would be a more appropriate time for us to discuss this,” Lourds suggested.

  “There may not be another time for us,” Leslie said. She looked exasperated. “This isn’t exactly an ‘oops’ situation where we’re going to be inconvenienced for a while then returned to our normal lives.”

  “I was rather hoping it would be.”

  Leslie rolled her eyes at him. “We’re sitting in a truck full of bad guys, and you want to go Pollyanna on me?”

  Lourds suddenly realized she was on the verge of getting mad at him all over again.

  “We’re not ‘bad guys,’ ” Murani said.

  “Yeah, right.” Leslie shifted her attention to the cardinal. “Like kidnapping people and threatening to shoot them is so heroic?”

  “I’m trying to save the world,” Murani protested. “I’m not the villain.”

  Anger flooded through Lourds when he thought how Gallardo—or one of the other men in Murani’s employ—had killed Yuliya, and shot at Leslie’s team back in Alexandria. No matter what the man said, Murani was a villain.

  “And how do you propose to save the world?” Leslie demanded.

  Murani sighed. “Through God’s Word. Now be silent or I’ll have you gagged.”

  Leslie quieted, but she leaned more heavily against Lourds.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry,” Leslie said to him in a whisper.

  Lourds nodded.

  She looked at him with irritation. “Aren’t you going to tell me you’re sorry, too?”

  Lourds froze. What was he supposed to be sorry for? He took a guess. “I’m sorry I convinced you to go along with me.”

  Leslie growled at him and shifted away. “You,” she declared, “are an idiot.”

  Gallardo and his men laughed out loud. Even Murani seemed somewhat amused.

  Lourds couldn’t believe he was supposed to fear for his life and feel guilty about his relationships with women at the same time. If he wasn’t so curious about what they were going to find at the Cádiz dig, he figured he’d have gone mad by now. He concentrated on remembering the inscription. He rebuilt the language again in his mind so he could translate it once more.

  Later—although how much time had passed, Lourds couldn’t be certain—the truck stopped. Voices sounded outside the truck. A glance through the open flaps before one of the guardsmen tied them together revealed that they were undoubtedly at the Cádiz dig. Media vehicles ringed the area.

  Desperation flared through Lourds. Surely all he had to do was yell for help and people would—

  “Don’t,” Murani said coldly. “Stay silent or I will kill your friend. I need that brilliant mind of yours for a little while longer. But Miss Crane’s company is merely a convenience for you, one you retain solely based on your good behavior.”

  Lourds subsided. He heard Leslie take a deep breath beside him. Almost immediately one of the guardsmen slapped a hand over her mouth. She squealed behind the hand, but the sound was mostly trapped.

  The truck’s engine rumbled, and they got under way again.

  Natasha stood in shadows that ringed the dig site and surveyed the two trucks that pulled through the gate in the hurricane fence. The fence had gone up from the beginning in anticipation of world interest and media coverage. Ten feet tall and topped with razor wire, the fence wouldn’t be proof against an armored division, but it held out journalists, curiosity-seekers, and those that had mere larceny in their hearts. Searchlights patrolled the rocky terrain.

  To the right, the Atlantic Ocean beat against an eight-foot-high retaining wall that had been constructed to keep the sea at bay during high tide. The wall wasn’t meant to be permanent, but she could see it was the best money could buy. The Roman Catholic Church hadn’t spared any expense in making certain their people were safe.

  Thinking of going down into the caves still left Natasha feeling slightly sick to her stomach. Even the subway tunnels under Moscow left her feeling that way. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped underground. The possibility of being drowned while underground was even more terrifying.

  She focused her binoculars on the two trucks rolling through the gate. It was 2:38 A.M. She couldn’t imagine a late-night delivery coming in, but it was possible.

  “Well?” Gary whispered as he stood beside her.

  Natasha didn’t make a reply. Gary was proving inept at patience.

  “Is it them?” Gary persisted.

  “I don’t know,” Natasha replied. “There wasn’t a list of occupants printed on the outside of the truck.”

  Gary cursed. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Then Lourds was wrong. He’s the one who did the translation and felt certain the instruments were leading us here.”

  “He could have been wrong, you know. Even if he was right about the translation talking about Atlantis, this might not be the Atlantis the instruments referred to.”

  “I know.”

  “We could have lost them.”

  “I know.” Natasha kept the conversation going only because it relaxed Gary to a degree.

  He cursed some more. “Maybe the Roman Catholic Church is wrong about this being Atlantis. If you’d read the materials that have been written about it, you’d know that prospective sites for Atlantis have been located all around the world.”

  “Not my problem. Lourds said they were coming here.”

  “If Lourds is wrong, then we’ve lost them.”

  “Try not to think like that. I believe he was right.” Natasha watched as the trucks stopped in front of the throat of the cave system. The passengers in the back debarked.

  “How else am I supposed to—?”

  “He was right. They’re here.” Natasha focused on Lourds as he stumbled from the truck.

  “I knew they would be,” Gary said. “Lourds is a really smart guy.”

  “Certainly.” Despite the danger that still faced them, Natasha couldn’t help smiling. Part of it was because of Gary’s ridiculous about-face just now, part because Lourds and Leslie Crane were still among the living, but the biggest part was because vengeance for Yuliya was at hand.

  She could hardly wait to dispense it.

  The group walked into the cave and disappeared inside the lighted interior.

  Now for the hard part.

  “We’ve got other problems,” Natasha said.

  “What?”

  “Gallardo’s people got into the cave easily.”

  “So?”

  “That means they’ve already got people here who know them,” Natasha said. “They’ve already infiltrated the security here.”

  “So?”

  “They’re in charge, they’re well armed, and they outnumber us a hundred to one.” Natasha pointed out, as to a small child.

  “That’s never stopped you before.”

  Murani walked down into the caves with Sbordoni on one side of him and Gallardo on the other. It was strange thinking that if the two men had met each other separately, they wouldn’t have liked each other. Yet he was able to use them both for his own purposes.

  Gallardo watched nervously as the arriving group of Swiss Guards met the teams already on-site as security. He hadn’t been aware that so much of the invasion into the cave system would be so easy.

  “Were you thinking we’d shoot our way in?” Murani asked.

  “Me?” Gallardo asked. “I was hoping more for the ‘slide in the back door’ strategy.” He looked tense. “There’s something else I’ve learned over the years: Just because you walk into a place doesn’t mean you can walk back out.”

  “We can walk back out,” Murani said. He was confident about that. All the Swiss Guards on-site had sworn allegiance to the Society of Quirinus and believed in keeping the Churc
h’s secrets. Those who didn’t know Murani planned to use the artifact Father Sebastian undoubtedly was on the verge of finding wouldn’t find out until it was too late.

  “Just so you know,” Gallardo said, “if this thing goes south, I’m not going to hang around.”

  “It won’t go south.” Murani stared at the caves and at the base camp.

  Few of the workers were awake. Most of them were asleep in their tents. The few that were up only watched with mild curiosity as Murani and his people passed through. Everyone knew the Swiss Guards went armed, and there had been threats against the site. Murani was sure that the presence of guardsmen at the base camp just told interested spectators that security on-site was being increased.

  “How far is the cave where Sebastian is?” Gallardo asked.

  “Almost two miles.”

  Gallardo looked back at the cave entrance uneasily. “That’s a long way underground.”

  “Personally,” Murani said, “I was thinking it was a long way to get where I want to go. I can’t wait to get there.” He just hoped that Sebastian hadn’t found the Book before he arrived.

  Under direction of one of the armed Swiss Guards, Lourds clambered aboard a trailer that had been converted to haul supplies and construction workers through the dig site. Long wooden benches provided seats.

  Leslie sat beside him.

  “I don’t like caves,” Leslie said.

  “Some of them are quite fascinating,” Lourds said. He’d seen several of them himself while studying prehistoric drawings for any sign of rudimentary language. The idea of how mankind had lived in them for a time captivated him.

  “You like the weirdest things.”

  Lourds grinned at that. “I suppose I do.”

  “That’s one of the things that makes you interesting.”

  “I’ll take your word on that.” Lourds struggled to keep up with Leslie’s way of thinking. He didn’t know if she primarily found him charming or offensive. Right now, he was astonished to discover that what she thought mattered to him.

  Instead of worrying about Leslie, he directed his attention to the base camp. It had been set up much the way a support area on a mountain climb would have been arranged. Food, medical care, and amenities were all provided. Television and video games, powered by the throbbing generators that filled the caves with a giant’s heartbeats, were even included.

  The truck jerked the trailer into motion. Lourds whipped into Leslie for a moment. He gazed at the guards sitting across from him and couldn’t help thinking that if this were a James Bond film, it was here that 007 would swing into motion and overpower his captors. Then he’d save the world.

  At least James Bond knew what he was saving the world from, Lourds thought sourly. He still had only a general idea of what they were going to find.

  But the certain lunacy of the idea of jumping one of the guards and taking his weapon away filled him before he acted. He was silently thankful for that. He could just imagine himself shot to pieces and Murani still torturing his dying body with red-hot pliers or something to get the inscription translated.

  The truck picked up speed as it descended into the bowels of the earth. Lourds discovered the dig crew had followed preexisting tunnels, but had been forced to enlarge some of them. The headlights cut through the darkness, but bulbs strung against the naked rock that framed the tunnels marked the way to their destination.

  Lourds felt Leslie shivering against him. He considered putting an arm around her. Even with the handcuffs, he could manage that. But he didn’t know if she’d allow that contact. So he sat in silence as he dreaded and anticipated what he was about to find at the other end of this journey to Atlantis.

  ______

  “These were the catacombs beneath the city,” Father Sebastian said as he wandered through the large stone carvings that depicted so much of the history written of in Genesis. He paused at one that was undoubtedly illustrating the birth of the universe and the parting of the darkness and light. God stood, a glowing presence, with his arms raised wide as the light from the sun surrounded him. “They probably built them as they’d built the city.”

  “We haven’t found anything up top,” Brancati said.

  “Mightn’t earthquakes and incoming waves account for the loss of the city above?” Sebastian ran his hand over a carving showing a huge ziggurat being built at the center of a fantastic city far in advance of anything that should have been out in the world at the time they believed Atlantis plunged into the ocean.

  “Yes. I’ve seen earthquake sites that were shaken relatively clean of rubble in rural areas. That doesn’t happen so much in cities like the ones we have now. Too many utility hookups and underground systems—like this one, I suppose—exist for them to simply disappear.”

  “But many thousands of years ago?”

  “You’ve seen the circular walls on the surface. They argue for the possibility that this is Atlantis.”

  Sebastian nodded. He pointed at the carving before him. “Biblical scholars and historians were wrong about the Tower of Babel. It wasn’t built in Babylon. It was built here in Atlantis.”

  “Do you think so? I hadn’t expected that.”

  Recognizing the voice but not having any idea what its owner would be doing here, Sebastian turned to face Cardinal Murani. Murani walked at the front of a small army of Swiss Guards.

  “What are you doing here?” Sebastian demanded.

  Murani stopped in front of the carving and studied it for a moment. Then he turned to Sebastian. “I’m here doing God’s true work. I’m going to bring knowledge of His Word and truth back into the world. I’m not going to cover it up and continue to help make Him powerless.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Sebastian said.

  “No,” Murani agreed. “I’m not. But the man who commands me is useless. The new pope is going to be just as weak as those that have gone before him. He’s insisting on burying what is found here. He is wrong. I’m not going to do that.”

  Terror flooded through Sebastian as he watched the cardinal. It was obvious that something had gone terribly out of control in the man. The priest’s eyes were as crazed as his voice was certain. Sebastian glanced at Peter and Martin, the two Swiss Guards who had been acting as his personal servants.

  They stepped back from him.

  Brancati stepped forward. “I don’t know what the hell you people—”

  A rough-looking man beside Murani slammed his rifle butt into the construction foreman’s forehead and knocked him out. Brancati hit the ground in a loose sprawl. Blood leaked from a small cut over his left eye.

  The members of the construction crew surged forward to protect their supervisor, but the weapons brandished by the Swiss Guard chased them back. The warriors barked commands, and the construction workers dropped to their knees with their hands behind their heads.

  Guardsmen quickly passed through them and bound the workers with disposable plastic cuffs. When they were all taken captive, some of the Swiss Guards took them into the outer cave. No one fought against them this time.

  Murani smiled. He came close enough that his voice went no further than Sebastian. “You can’t stop me, old man. All you can do is struggle against me and die. If you want to die for God, go ahead. I’m willing for you to make that sacrifice. I applaud it, in fact.”

  Sebastian made himself stand fast in spite of his fear. “The Book isn’t here.”

  Murani glanced around. “I believe that it is.”

  “It destroyed Atlantis.”

  “Because the priest-kings in those days wanted to be the equal of God,” Murani said. “I only want to bring Him back into this world. I want to bring the fear of God to everyone’s attention. Including that ineffectual bungler in Vatican City. Especially to him. I have plans. . . .”

  Sebastian trembled but said nothing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The Swiss Guard owed their allegiance to the pope, not to anyone else. Yet they followed Murani like
he was the pope.

  “Where’s the Book?” Murani demanded.

  Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  A nervous tic flared to life under Murani’s right eye. “Careful. I’m not going to suffer rebellion quietly. I’ll bury you here if I need to.”

  “So you’re going to add murder to your list of atrocities?”

  “Too late. It’s already been added long ago,” Murani said coldly. “All I can do at this point is compound my work. And it’s not murder when I take a life pursuing God’s purposes.”

  “This isn’t God’s work.”

  “You don’t recognize it as God’s work,” Murani said. “I do.”

  “I won’t help you.”

  Murani smiled. “I don’t need your help,” he snarled. He raised his voice. “Professor Lourds.”

  Lourds stumbled forward across the stone floor when one of the Swiss Guards shoved him forward. He noticed then how worn the stone was between the large carved murals. Thousands of years ago, he realized, people had spent a lot of time walking between these images.

  “Come here,” Murani ordered.

  Reluctantly, Lourds approached the cardinal. He’d seen the conversation between Murani and Father Sebastian, but he hadn’t been able to hear it over the throbbing generators in the next room. But he could tell from the expressions on both men’s faces that neither of them was happy with anything that had been said.

  Murani gestured at the image carved in stone before him. “Do you know what this is?”

  Lourds looked at the stone and thought that maybe the cardinal was trying to trick him. The image was stark. There was no mistaking what it was.

  “This is Atlantis.” Lourds gestured with both hands, since they were bound together, at the ziggurat. “That’s the Tower of Babel. They were building it to ascend to Heaven and be with God.”

  “Yes,” Murani said. He directed Lourds’s attention to the sections of stone that were covered with the same language that was on all the instruments. The picture, though, was different. Two men and a woman were shown in the forest with animals around them. “Can you read this?”