I replied. “The only option may be to go through it by cutting an opening with diamond saws. Does someone have a better idea? If not, Abdullah, we will need Council approval to proceed. The inscriptions are fully documented and of little apparent value but by cutting through the block we will destroy part of the decorations and a section of the well shaft. Jean-Claude, do you have a problem with destroying part of the wall?”
Jean-Claude said he had no objections as he was eager to see what was behind it and Abdullah granted consent. We left the tomb and waited whilst an engineer bought in a diamond tipped circular saw and began cutting an opening in the limestone block whilst his colleagues installed an air conditioning duct, as working down in the well shaft had become very uncomfortable. One of Jean-Claude’s team had rigged up a video camera to record every step of the job. It took some time to cut an aperture wide enough for a man to climb through.
After some jocular argument about the honour of being the first to enter the new area, Jean-Claude wiggled through the aperture to be confronted by the wings of the corridor still partially full of sand. He backed out, told us what he had seen and recommended we get a party of labourers down here with buckets and spades as there was still a lot of sand to be removed. He said our thoughts about the plugging block and granite buttressing blocks seemed to be correct but, until we extracted the sand, there was not much more to see.
Yousef, mindful of his position at the CEA, commented. “Now we have to bring in labourers, it is unlikely we can keep secret what we have found. I will assign an official from the Ministry of Tourism to handle the media and get more policemen into the Valley to manage both journalists and tourists wanting to swamp us with questions. We have to strike a balance between the huge publicity this will generate and the need to work professionally within the tomb. Positive news from Egypt is worth a fortune in tourist dollars to the country so I ask you to put up with the media and others who will descend upon us like a Biblical plague of locusts.”
Henri said “As the sand removal could take weeks, I had better get back to the Sudan as I doubt you have any immediate need of a seismologist. Please keep me informed of progress since I am only a few hours away and would like to be here if and when you make a great discovery. Until then, merci beaucoup et au revoir. Bonne chance, mes amis.”
We went back to old time archaeology as digging out and removing sand was a job for hand labour. At first, the gangs were frightened to venture into the tomb as they had never seen anything like this before but, after receiving assurances from Richard that the structure was safe, they dug out the first corridors with more sand cascading in from the main chamber. If it had been the intention of the architect who contrived this method of protecting the tomb’s contents it worked exceptionally well as it took all of two months of bucket and shovel work to clear the loose sand.
What fascinating discoveries appeared from under the sand!The first was confirmation the limestone block was indeed a plug which had been designed to seal and disguise what was the principal entrance. Then, as the level of the sand dropped, we saw every wall was clad in interlocked basalt plates. Next, the granite pillars revealed themselves as did the stepped buttressing system. Nothing like these protective mechanisms had been previously uncovered in Egypt, or for that matter, at any ancient building site. A team from France’s national television organisation took up full time residence in Luxor to produce a documentary of the unfolding of the drama as part of the agreement with Jean-Claude’s employers and the Council. The fruits of their labours created an international sensation far surpassing the finding of the Titanic. Archaeologists and Egyptologists from all over the world applied for permission to visit the tomb and periodically approval was granted for academics to visit the site. All were astounded by what they saw – an absolutely pristine technical marvel three thousand years old.
At first, we found not a single inscription, only the elements of a completely innovative architectural format but nothing allowing us to identify the tomb’s owner. The public relations officer from the Ministry of Tourism, a highly efficient multi-lingual woman, initially managed to keep a tight control over the international media who swarmed into Egypt, booking out every hotel room within 200 kilometres of Luxor. Some enterprising journalists even erected a tent city for themselves out on the plains, making a number of Egyptian landowners a tidy sum in ground rental.
The senior project executives, Jean-Claude, myself and, as required, members of our staff, had to face the cameras for a weekly conference. We began to understand the irritation Howard Carter experienced when he had to keep the press up to date after the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb. He dealt with only one newspaper! Our conferences were attended by hundreds of journalists and some of the questions asked verged on the idiotic. There were times I thought I would rather face a burning oil well fire than have to deal with another episode with media representatives.
After one such conference, Jean-Claude said “I only thought it was the American Press that asked stupid questions but today I came to realise even France has publications for, what do you say, morons? One very pretty but apparently empty-headed Parisian journalist asked me if we had finally found proof of alien visitations to Egypt.”
“Don’t worry. An English newspaperman ask me about the sex life of the pharaohs and, given the well known fact of Ramesses having so many children, the reporter thought he was on fertile ground. He wanted to know if we had discovered any pornographic depictions on the walls of the new chambers. An Australian journalist asked if we had discovered the king’s harem.”
By the end of the first month, the upper part of the massive basalt block was slowly revealed as was part of the plated floor. A tentative attempt to prise up one of the plates failed and an inspection of the block’s faces revealed they were fashioned out of interlocking plates. The edges were slightly bevelled but until we took one off we could not determine the method of construction. Every plate was highly polished and the joints did not permit the insertion of even a razor blade. I rang Henri in Khartoum and asked him about using his sonar equipment to help us. He thought trying to create any meaningful image through thick basalt was a waste of time as the material was too dense to allow effective penetration by sound waves.
There was one, almost catastrophic, surprise in store for us or rather the labourers. The end of the sand chute, driven down through the hill, was soon revealed. Mixed with the small quantity of sand that fell from it were limestone and granite chips. Just as it occurred to me the fill might become dislodged and come crashing down, our Egyptian foreman came running into the site office.
“Effendi, come quickly, the roof has fallen in.” he screamed. I leapt to my feet. Grabbing my cell phone, I rang Richard on the fly and Jean-Claude yelled out to his foreman. We ran into the tomb, slid sailor-like down the well shaft ladder and burst into the main chamber. On the top of the block was a large pile of sand mixed with jagged rocks. I looked up and saw the ceiling was intact. Workmen, jabbering away like frightened monkeys, cowered in groups against the walls. Richard flew into the room and glared at the pile.
“I should have anticipated that. The sand chute would have been partially topped up with rocks to consolidate the filling. It would be a good idea if we stopped work in here now and try to find the tunnel mouth and clear it out just in case there is another bloody great pile of loose rock sitting above our heads. Thierry, we need more lights and some scaffolding in here so we can explore the entire roof surface for any latent tunnels or clever devices. This may not be the set for an Indiana Jones movie but let’s not take any chances.”
Jean-Claude told his labourers to take a break and retrieved Henri’s schematics on his laptop. We climbed up the hill over the tomb where Marc set up a theodolite and took some readings from around the Valley. He pointed to a place on the ground and said we should dig where he indicated.
“Okay, get some safety harnesses. I don’t want men falling down the shaft into the tomb. We
’ll drive some harness anchor points well back from here and then they can start digging. Richard, make sure there’s nobody in the tomb below us. In fact, shut the door at the well shaft. Then we know nobody can get into the chamber.”
A small team of labourers, using picks and shovels, opened a hole in the ground, working gingerly around the growing depression. They had been digging for about forty minutes when the man in the deepest part of the hole yelled out and started to scramble up its side as the ground collapsed beneath him. Strong arms grabbed him just as a cloud of dust jetted out of the tunnel, followed by a loud rumbling. The dust settled and we peered down and, through the dust, we could just make out the top of the block. Richard donned a harness and he was lowered him into the shaft. He briefly disappeared from view and then called us to haul him out. Once back on firm soil, he reported his findings.
“It is safe to work now. I had a quick look at the sides of the shaft which had been driven through solid rock straight down to the burial chamber. We need to clear away this loose rubbish, erect temporary hoarding and then fit a water tight door over the shaft. Something for Tamaam’s crew, I think, Dennis. Okay, let’s rake the area clear of loose debris. I noticed the mouth of a side tunnel going towards the northern end of the burial chamber. It is full of sand and may lead to the storerooms at the back of the structure. Sennefer probably designed the sand system to fill those rooms as well and I assume there will be more compacted granite fragments in the second shaft. At least now we know what to expect when we break into that area.”
I mused “I am a bit surprised. All the elaborate basalt armour below us and a simple rubble filled tunnel don’t fit together.”
“Sennefer probably thought the sand fill was a sufficient barrier.” Jean-Claude offered.
Whilst workmen cleared the area around the tunnel mouth, I rang Tamaam who joined us on the hill. I described what we wanted, she took measurements and some photographs, kissed me, which generated hoots from the workmen and left, promising to have something fabricated as a temporary cover as soon as possible. She scrambled down the hill and I followed her with my eyes. I thought what a beautiful little creature she was. Very sexy looking in her jeans, boots and white cotton shirt. Her copper coloured hair flared out under her hard hat as she strode towards her office.
Jean-Claude, a man well versed in the ways of women, tapped my shoulder and said, with a smile. “Dennis, if I was not happily married, I would ask if she has a sister. Time to get back to work, mon ami, although I am not sure a dead king is more interesting than a living princess.”
Having received Richard’s assurances that work could safely resume, the fallen rock was removed and the labourers recommenced removing the residue of sand. The rear wall was revealed, with its recessed basalt door set into grooves, next to which were two holes with what looked like broken clay pieces embedded in their edges. Further clearing uncovered jagged clay shards in the sand.
“I believe these are pieces of clay sealing pots. What do you think?” I asked Jean-Claude, who agreed. I rang my father, told him what we had found and he said he would come over and have a look. By this stage of the excavation, my father had given up any plans to return to England and had rented a small apartment in Luxor. When he arrived, I told him about the incident with the shaft and showed him the two holes in the rear walls.
“Get a photographer in here as soon as possible, Dennis, and photograph this entire area, especially those two holes. Keep every piece of pottery you find. I suspect you are going to uncover a hammer somewhere on the floor. If I am correct, you have just revealed a rare example of the starting mechanism of a sand hydraulic device. I have never seen one but there are a few reports of this type of mechanism. Time to get Abdullah or Yousef down from Cairo again as I think we may have to make a large hole in the wall above this door.”
We were discussing the pots when Jean-Claude noticed fine sand falling onto my father’s shoulder. He made to brush it off when, suddenly, he called out “Everyone, get out of the tomb now!” in Arabic and English. “Out, out as fast as you can.” Men dropped their shovels and we all fled to the safety of the well shaft and scrambled up the ladder. “What’s wrong?” I queried.
“Get Richard over here urgently. There is something moving in the tomb. Didn’t you hear a grinding sound?” Alerted by the sight of men scrambling out of the tomb, Richard and Marc came over to the entrance. Jean-Claude told them he had heard a grinding noise somewhere within the tomb when Richard noticed the fine sand on our shoulders. “Where exactly were you standing when you heard the noise?”
“I think almost under the tunnel opening.”
“Okay, Marc, go up to the top of the hill, put on a safety harness and look down into the tunnel. I think it is time to see if my ability to hear the rock talking is still as good as I have boasted. I am going back into the tomb by myself and I don’t want anyone else to go in until I come back.”
‘Will you be safe?”
“Aye, laddie, dinna you worry yourself about me. I am going to stand just outside the well shaft entrance and have a silent moment with my rocks. If the roof looks like coming down, I’ll nip back into the safety of the shaft.” With that, he disappeared into the tomb. We waited, and waited some more. Finally, he spoke on the walkie-talkie.
“Gentlemen, come down as I want you to see something I guarantee you have never seen before. Marc, can you hear me? Stay where you are but move to the side of the tunnel directly above the secondary tunnel.” We re-entered the tomb and met Richard, who was standing right under the chute, his cupped hands full of sand.
“You are safe enough here. Look up the tunnel and you will see a steady but very slow trickle of sand coming out of the side just below the point where the rocks where compacted.” We cautiously peered upwards. Richard was right. A thin stream of sand was seeping out of a small hole. “Listen” Richard whispered. I could hear a very faint grating sound. “Be ready to spring back if rocks start to fall. It won’t be much, if I am right, but still enough to dent some skulls if they hit you. As soon as material stops falling, look up again and you will see the work of a genius in action again.”
Marc’s head hung over the tunnel silhouetted in sunlight. A section of the tunnel side appeared to bulge, then gave way, showering the floor with chunks of stone.
“Now, look up.” yelled Richard
I could not believe my eyes. “Mon Dieu. What the hell is that?” asked Jean-Claude before I could ask the same question. A round nosed slab of rock was slowly sliding out of the side of the tunnel, accompanied by a slight grinding noise. As we watched in fascination, it came to rest against the opposite side of the tunnel, effectively sealing it closed and shutting off the daylight completely.
“Gentlemen, you have just witnessed a time delayed lock in operation. It has been just over four days since the rocks fell out of the tunnel. When I returned to the tomb and saw the sand trickling out of its side, I put a ladder up and had a close look. The falling lumps had broken a very small clay pot, one that is almost undetectable. On closer inspection, I discerned the outline of a rectangular piece of limestone set into the side of the tunnel, matching the radius perfectly. Our clever architect set up a mechanism that would trap robbers within the tomb, if they been able to break in through the sand chute.”
Totally amazed at what I had just witnessed I asked. “What do you mean?”
“You were surprised about the chute. The builder knew it was the weakest link in the armour he had developed. He filled the whole tomb with sand, placed a layer of jagged edged rocks just above the little clay pot and topped the lot up with material from the area immediately around the tunnel mouth and then went home. Without the heavy compaction equipment we all use, rollers and vibratory tools, he may have expected the material in the chute to settle and leave an almost imperceptible depression at some time. In anticipation, he set up his booby trap.”
“At some time, robbers would arrive, find the depression, pull out their spades
and dig down. They are happy men, they work hard and keep digging and they are not deterred by finding rocks. They just dig away but in doing so they break the small pot in their enthusiasm. They continue just like the seven dwarves, pulling bucket after bucket of sand out of the top of the burial chamber. There is no way they would have noticed a small trickle of sand coming out of the side of the tunnel. How do I know this? Because Mr. Smarty Richard didn’t see it either and I am trained to see anomalies in rock formation.”
“Anyway, Messrs. Tom, Dick and Harry, members of the tomb robber’s guild, are now down a few metres into the sand pit within the tomb. Suddenly, the trickle of sand stops and the big plate you saw sliding out of the side of the tunnel pushes out the limestone insert the builder had cleverly disguised and the portcullis slips, almost soundlessly, right across the tunnel. The plate was positioned at a downward angle and its weight, together with the slow release of sand through the broken pot, combined to produce a time delayed lock, one that would have trapped the robbers inside the tomb for eternity. If they had any associates with them that were not trapped, I guarantee they would have had the living daylights frightened out of them and never ventured near the tomb again.”
“Richard, if what you describe is correct, the builder of this entire structure would rank way up the list of ancient builders for his ingenuity. I am willing to bet there is nothing like this anywhere in the ancient world.”
“Dennis, he was smarter than any engineer I have worked with in my life. He was an absolute cracker!”
“I wonder if there are any more little surprises hiding around us?” asked Jean-Claude, who was still looking up at the blocked tunnel with trepidation. “We will have to be tres, tres vigilant from now onwards, mes amis.”
It took some time to calm our workforce, even though none of whom had seen how the tunnel was blocked, but they were still spooked by Jean-Claude’s urgent injunction to leave the tomb, post haste. For the time being, he ordered the tunnel left untouched until we had investigated the mechanism more closely. Taking the Frenchman’s advice to heart, we proceeded with extra diligence as we continued the clearance. Luckily, we had affected our initial entrance through the well shaft, otherwise some of us might have had a few unpleasant hours locked inside the tomb with no other means of escape, whilst rock breakers were brought up to smash through the tunnel blockage. That would have created a real panic with our workmen.
The Golden Falcon Page 60