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The Hunt for Atlantis

Page 6

by Andy McDermott

“So, your dad around?” Chase asked, hooking his thumbs into his jacket pockets.

  Kari appeared slightly chilly about his informality. “No, he’s in the biolab. I came to take you to him.”

  The memory returned to Nina. “Excuse me for asking, but… weren’t you in the news last year, in Africa? The medical relief in Ethiopia?”

  “Yes, that was me,” Kari said. “I helped organize the aid effort.”

  “Ms. Frost does more than just help,” Schenk said. “She’s in charge of the Frost Foundation’s medical programs around the world. I don’t think there’s a single country she hasn’t visited in the past five years.”

  “That’s one way to rack up the frequent-flier miles,” joked Chase.

  “You’re working on disease eradication programs, aren’t you?” Nina asked.

  “Yes. The Frost Foundation does whatever it can to make the world a better place. It’s a lofty goal, I admit—but it’s one that I’m certain we can achieve.”

  “I hope you can,” said Nina.

  “Thank you,” Kari replied. She gestured at the door. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to my father.”

  Kari led them downstairs to a huge garage beneath the house. Nina was amazed by its contents; the space was packed with expensive sports cars and motorcycles, ranging from old classics to the very latest Italian supercars.

  “My personal collection,” said Kari. “My father doesn’t entirely approve, but I just love the freedom and exhilaration of speed.”

  “Nice wheels,” said Chase as he admired first a scarlet Ferrari F430 Spider convertible, then the motorbike parked next to it, a sleek machine in blue and silver.

  “Suzuki GSX-R1000,” Kari told him, with more than a hint of pride—the first sign of real emotion she’d shown since meeting Nina. “The fastest production bike in the world. One of my favorites. I plan to take it to Europe to race soon. That is … if my schedule allows. But that depends on Dr. Wilde.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Nina. Kari merely gave her an engimatic look, leading them to a Mercedes limousine.

  Schenk drove, taking them to the futuristic buildings east of the house that Nina had seen from the plane. As they approached, she saw the complex was actually made up of two sections: the interconnected two-story structures on the ground near the fjord, and other sections above them set into the cliff itself.

  “Our biolab,” explained Kari. “The underground section houses the containment area. There are samples in there which are potentially dangerous, so the whole laboratory section can be completely sealed off in case of an emergency.” She pointed at a curved structure protruding from the cliff face. “That’s my father’s office, up there.”

  “Your father’s office is right above the containment area?” Nina asked nervously. The idea of going into a building filled with contagious diseases and viruses made her skin crawl.

  “His idea, to show his confidence in the design. Besides, he likes to keep a close eye on our progress.”

  They drove down a ramp into a parking garage beneath the main building, then got out and took an elevator to a lobby on the ground floor. A large horseshoe-shaped desk of black steel and marble was manned by three uniformed security guards, who nodded respectfully to Kari. Behind the desk, doors led into a high corridor with a glass roof through which Nina could see Frost’s office above. The place was busy.

  “How many people work here?” she asked.

  “It varies,” said Kari, “but usually around fifty or sixty researchers, plus the security staff.”

  Nina spotted another security station at the end of the corridor by the large glass and steel doors. “You, uh … you’ve got a lot of security, haven’t you?”

  “We need it,” Kari answered matter-of-factly. “Some of the samples we work with could be used for bio-terrorism if they fell into the wrong hands. And the Frost Foundation unfortunately has enemies. You’ve met some of them already.”

  “Don’t worry, Doc,” said Chase, “I’ll keep you safe.”

  The sight of the trefoil biohazard logo on the door made Nina slow her approach. “Are … are you sure this is safe?”

  “Absolutely,” Kari assured her. “These doors are part of an airlock. They’re made of ceramic aluminum oxynitride—transparent aluminum, equivalent to sixty centimeters of armor plate. Virtually unbreakable. The only way anything gets in or out of the containment section, whether it be a microbe or a person, is with our permission.”

  Kari spoke to the guards, and the heavy airlock doors hissed open. The group passed through, waiting for the inner doors to cycle. The containment section beyond was purely functional in design, almost brutal. The walls were tiled in white, the floors coated in nonslip rubber for ease of cleaning. Harsh fluorescent lights lit every corner with an even glare, and Nina also saw the eerie purple glow of ultraviolet sources, adding to the sterile air.

  Inside, Kari led them to an elevator that took them up to Frost’s office. Entering, Nina suddenly felt as though she’d been transported back to the house, the design was so similar. She could even see the house itself through the windows, perched atop its crag.

  But it wasn’t the view, or the architecture, or the objets d’art that caught her attention. It was the man waiting for them.

  Kristian Frost was even more imposing and handsome in real life than in pictures. Well over six feet tall, and still impressively muscular despite his sixty years, in his navy blue roll-neck sweater he reminded her more of a rugged fisherman than a billionaire businessman. His hair and beard were both turning gray, but his eyes still contained a youthful energy and deep intelligence.

  “Dr. Wilde,” he said, taking her hand. She was a little surprised when instead of shaking it, he lowered his head to kiss it. From anyone else the gesture would have seemed somewhat silly, but coming from him it felt perfectly apt. “Welcome to Ravnsfjord.”

  “Mr. Frost,” she began.

  “Please! Call me Kristian.” His English was not quite as precise as Kari’s, a deep burr in his voice revealing his Scandinavian origins. “I’m very glad to meet you. And I’m also very glad that I’m able to meet you. Hiring Mr. Chase has paid for itself already.”

  “Then I guess I should thank you for, well, saving my life!”

  Frost smiled broadly. “Happy to be of service.”

  “But… why would anyone want to kill me? What’s all this about?”

  “Please, take a seat and I will explain,” said Frost, directing her to a long sofa. She sat, Kari joining her at the other end. “I’m afraid that your theories about Atlantis have led you to be targeted by a man called Giovanni Qobras.”

  “And who is Giovanni Qobras?” Nina asked.

  “A madman,” said Kari.

  “Oh.” Not just a killer, but a mad killer. Great.

  “Qobras and his followers,” Frost began, “who call themselves the Brotherhood, believe the same thing that I do—that you do. If there’s one thing we all have in common, it’s that we believe the legend of Atlantis is true. I’ve been convinced of it all my life, and I’ve put a quite substantial amount of my fortune into attempting to prove it.” He walked over to the wide window. In the far distance, the sea glinted like tiny diamonds. “Unfortunately, without much success. As you know, there’s very little information to work from … and what there is is subject to a great deal of interpretation.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Nina. “So what about this Qobras?”

  He turned to face her. “You and I want to find Atlantis, to bring an ancient wonder back to the world. Qobras, on the other hand…” His face darkened. “He wants to keep it hidden, to protect the secret for his own ends. And he’s willing to resort to murder to do so. Your new theory about its location may not have convinced the committee at your university, but it certainly convinced Qobras. He believes that you’re on the right track—as do I, by the way—and he wants to stop you from proving it.”

  “Wait,” Nina said. “How do you know a
bout my theory?”

  “The Frost Foundation has friends in academia all around the world. They know that any new ideas about the location of Atlantis will catch my interest, so they keep me appraised. And your ideas …” He smiled. “I’ll get right to the point. I’m willing to fully fund a survey expedition to test your theory.”

  Nina could barely contain her excitement. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. Subject to a condition, though.” He saw her expression fall, and chuckled. “Nothing bad, I promise. But the Gulf of Cádiz is rather large, and while I have a lot of resources, they’re not infinite. I’d like you to narrow the search, pinpoint a location.”

  “But that’s the problem,” Nina told him. “There’s so little information to work from, I don’t know how I can narrow it down.”

  “There might be more than you think.” She looked up at him, intrigued. “I’ll explain later. But for now … are you interested?”

  “Am I interested?” she gasped. “Absolutely!”

  Frost walked over to her and offered his right hand. She hesitated, then shook it. “Wonderful,” he said. “Dr. Wilde, together, we’re going to find Atlantis.”

  The gleaming object hung in space, unaffected by gravity.

  Nina stared at it in amazement. She’d never seen a free-floating hologram before, or even imagined they were possible outside the realms of science fiction or movies.

  “What is it?” she asked at last, reluctantly looking away from the hologram to the other people in the darkened room.

  “It’s something that might help you narrow down your search,” said Frost. “Or at least, that’s the claim of the man who wants to sell it to me.”

  “Sell it?” Nina turned back to the hologram. The projection, hovering above a cylindrical pedestal in which colored lights flickered faster than her eyes could follow, was supposedly life-sized, just under a foot long and about two inches wide. It was a flat bar of metal, the bottom end rounded while the top was straight, a circular nub protruding from it. The color was almost like gold, but with an unusual reddish tint…

  Like her pendant.

  She absently fingered the metal piece hanging from her neck as she leaned closer to the hologram, moving around the pedestal to see the other side. To her disappointment, there was nothing there except a bizarre, perspective-defying inversion of its face, through which she could see Frost, Kari and Chase.

  “The seller only wanted us to have a taste,” said Kari. “He claims that the front of the artifact has markings that may be of use to us—but he won’t let us see them until we agree to pay him.”

  “How much does he want?” Chase asked.

  “Ten million dollars.”

  “Bloody hell. That’s a lot for a fancy ruler.”

  “It might be worth even more than that,” Nina said. Even though she knew there was nothing there, she couldn’t help reaching out a finger for an experimental touch. The tip of her nail sank into the hologram, part of the image disappearing where her finger obstructed the laser beams generating it. “It’s orichalcum, isn’t it?”

  “So it seems.” Frost held up a small glass dish containing a little piece of metal the same color as the bar. “As well as the hologram, he also sent us a sample. He claims that he cut it from the side of the artifact.” Nina saw a small nick in one side of the hologram. “I ran a metallurgical test. It’s a gold-copper alloy, but with very unusual levels of carbon and sulfur, which would account for its color.”

  “Consistent with volcanism?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which would match what Plato said about orichalcum in Critias!” Nina’s excitement rose as she realized the implications.

  “Wait, what?” Chase asked. “Sorry, but when somebody says volcanism to me, I think of Mr. Spock.”

  “According to Plato, orichalcum—a rare metal—was mined in Atlantis,” Nina explained. “But there’s no room for any unknown elements in the periodic table, which means it had to be an alloy of other metals. But you don’t mine alloys, you make them—unless they were formed by some natural process. Volcanic activity could have caused deposits of gold and copper to fuse together into a new substance, and if there were sufficient quantities, it could have been dug out of the rock.”

  “The Atlanteans used orichalcum to cover the walls of their citadel,” said Kari. “They considered it nearly as valuable as gold—which it is, because of the high gold content—but an object like this would be worth far more than just its weight in precious metals. If it’s genuine, then it would be the first true Atlantean artifact ever discovered—proof that Atlantis exists.”

  Frost nodded to Schenk, who switched on the lights. The hologram faded, losing its illusion of solidity. “So where is it? Who has it?” Nina asked.

  “The seller is called Yuri Volgan,” began Frost. “He used to be one of Qobras’s men. Apparently he wants to leave the Brotherhood, and also wants enough money to hide from Qobras by selling this artifact. He sent the orichalcum fragment and the hologram to us via an intermediary, an Iranian called Failed Ajar.”

  Nina frowned. “I’ve heard the name.”

  “I’m not surprised. He sells ancient Persian artifacts—that aren’t supposed to be for sale.”

  “A grave robber,” she said with distaste.

  “He used to be, although I doubt he’s gotten his own hands dirty for years. He’s made himself very wealthy by selling his country’s treasures to private collectors abroad. Wealthy enough that he can buy a degree of immunity from the Iranian government.”

  “Plus he grasses up his rivals,” added Chase, “sells them out so the politely go after them instead of him. Haven’t met him personally, but I know people who’ve dealt with him. Not a popular bloke—but if he’s selling this thing, he probably thinks it’s genuine. He might be a scumbag, but he’s a scumbag who’s bothered about his reputation.”

  “He has the resources to handle the sale of this artifact, and to protect Volgan from Qobras,” Frost said. “Which is why I’m inclined to believe that it’s genuine. But I’m not going to hand over ten million dollars without some proof. And that’s where you come in.”

  Nina blinked. “Me?”

  “I want you to examine the artifact and decide if it is what Volgan claims.”

  “You want me to go to Iran?” She gulped. “Part of the Axis of Evil, hates America, that Iran?”

  Chase laughed. “I’ll be there to watch out for you. Me and a few mates. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You’ve been to Iran before?”

  He looked evasive. “Not officially …”

  “Mr. Chase and his associates will look after you,” said Frost. “And Kari will be going as well, as my representative.”

  “But what makes you think I’ll be able to tell if this artifact’s real or not?” asked Nina, gesturing at the ghostly hologram.

  “You are an expert in ancient languages, aren’t you?” said Kari.

  “I wouldn’t say expert,” she protested. “I mean, I’ve studied the field, I can tell my Phoenician from my Namibian, but I’m not a specialist.”

  “From what I’ve heard, you’re rather better than that. Maybe even better than your mother at reading Glozel.” Nina stared at Frost, surprised. “I knew your parents—I actually funded the expedition to Tibet where they …” He paused, looking away from her. “A great tragedy. A great loss.”

  “They never told me you funded them,” said Nina.

  “At my request. Now that you know what Qobras is capable of, you understand why I place great importance on security. Qobras will do whatever it takes to stop anyone from finding Atlantis, and he has considerable resources—and some powerful friends around the world.”

  “Like who?”

  “It’s probably safer that you don’t know. But as for the artifact, if what Yuri Volgan says is true, you should be able to tell if it’s authentic by reading the text. And just imagine it,” Frost went on, a certain theatricality entering his voice, �
�you’ll be able to hold in your hand an actual object from Atlantis!”

  “If it’s genuine.”

  “Which you’re the most qualified person in the world to determine.”

  Nina considered his words. She still wasn’t keen on the idea of going to a country that was openly hostile to Westerners, and Americans in particular, but she’d been on expeditions to less-than-friendly countries before, and the potential prize in this case far exceeded the value of anything else she’d ever discovered.

  Besides, as Frost had said, she wouldn’t be going alone.

  And if she chose not to go, what would she do instead? Return to New York, to where she had just been denied funding … and where she would have to constantly look over her shoulder in case Qobras’s men came after her again?

  “Okay,” she said, “I’m in. So, when do we set off?”

  Frost smiled. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “I like your thinking,” said Nina, smiling back. “Just because Atlantis has waited for eleven thousand years doesn’t mean we should wait.”

  “Then,” said Kari, “let’s get you started.”

  FOUR

  Iran

  Nina rubbed irritably at her arm. “This still hurts.” “You don’t want to get some weird Middle Eastern disease, do you?” Chase asked, amused. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “I know that. It’s just uncomfortable, that’s all.” The vaccination had been an unwelcome part of the deal, administered in the antiseptic environs of the biolab. While less painful than others she’d had in the past, it seemed to take an age for the little bead of blood to dry up.

  “That was nothing! Christ, you should have seen some of the shots I got in the SASS. Needles this big.” He held his hands eight inches apart. “And you don’t want to know where they stuck ’me.”

  The Gulfstream had just passed over the Black Sea and Turkey on its way to Iran. It hadn’t taken a direct route from Norway, instead detouring to Prague to pick up another passenger. In the plane with Nina, Chase and Kari—who sat on her own at the back of the cabin working on a laptop—was another man, whom Chase had introduced as Hugo Castile. From the way they mocked each other, it was clear they were old friends.

 

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