The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  “Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “Not much. I saw the light up ahead and figured it must have been your light, so I turned mine off. There must have been a crack in the outer wall, from which water was gushing at high pressure. I didn’t even see it, but as I swam past, I was expelled through the water in an uncontrolled spin. My faceplate must have hit the stone, and then all I could see was the rush of Hydrox bubbles escaping my dive helmet. I knew I didn’t have long to live, so when I thought I could see light in the distance, I swam towards it, hoping it was you – not that I had any idea what you could do for me. I guess somewhere along the way, my Hydrox ran out, and I succumbed to hypoxia.”

  “You were rambling gibberish when I got you out of the water,” Sam said.

  “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “Saving my life – again.”

  Years ago, Sam had saved Tom’s life on a training mission, when a $2 oil seal had failed, resulting in a total loss of oil pressure to the gearbox, and forced engine shutdown. Sam had managed to guide the helicopter into a lake and put it into a controlled descent through autorotation.

  The other SEALs escaped the sinking craft, but when Sam surfaced, and a head count was performed, Tom was missing. Several of the SEALs had attempted to reach the helicopter, which had rapidly sunk to the bottom of the 80-foot lake. Sam, with his background in professional free diving, was the only one capable of reaching it. Inside, he found Tom in the cockpit, trapped by his malfunctioning seatbelt locking mechanism.

  Sam laughed at the memory, as he recalled that Tom had been able to access his pilot’s oxygen mask, and had been comfortably breathing the entire way to the bottom, but unable to free himself. When he’d opened the door, his friend had just looked at him, sitting comfortably in the pilot seat, as if to say, what took you so long?

  “You’re welcome Tom. If you count that airship last year, The Magdalena, that free dive in Saratoga, and the cave dive in Mexico when we were kids – you’ve still saved me more than I’ve saved you. I still owe you one.”

  “Keep it,” Tom said. Then, looking around, asked, “Are you any closer to working out where we are?”

  “I’m still pretty confident we’re in the entrance cavity of a Mayan king’s final resting chamber.”

  “Ajtzak’s?”

  “Judging from the representation of the Ark of Light at the entrance, which disappeared shortly before Ajtzak’s death, I think there’s a good chance this is it.”

  “What about our rescue team – do you think we’ll make it until they can reach us?”

  “The air’s dry, but the quality is surprisingly good. We have plenty of time. Matthew will get us out of here – don’t you worry. It will take them another hour for the rescue team to reach us,” Sam cast his eyes around the cavern. “Care to take a look around?”

  *

  Sam examined the opening in the ceiling above.

  It was ten feet above them and perfectly square, with smooth edges of cut rock. When he was younger and played basketball at college, he could easily have jumped high enough to touch it. But he needed more than that. He needed to be able to climb into it, and once there, he would have to find a way to climb up the vertical shaft.

  “You feeling strong Tom?”

  “Strong enough – what have you got in mind?”

  “I was thinking if I could stand on your shoulders, I might just be able to reach high enough into the opening to climb it.”

  “I can get you up to it, but I haven’t a clue how you plan to climb it once you get there,” Tom replied.

  “Leave that to me.”

  Tom stood up, his entire six feet five inches making the challenge seem less daunting. He was tall and lanky, but his muscles were misleading, and he was probably the naturally strongest man Sam had ever met.

  “You okay?” Sam checked again before climbing the monster of a man.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Tom took a firm stance with his feet square to his giant shoulders and his arms in the air.

  “Count of three?”

  “Sure.”

  “One… Two… Three…” Sam climbed up Tom’s back as though it were a tree stump. It was strong and hard as one, too.

  Standing firmly on top of Tom’s shoulders, he was now able to reach the entrance. The stone walls inside the shaft were smooth like those below, making any thoughts of climbing next to impossible. Sam calmly withdrew a small metal device from his pocket. It looked very much like a flashlight. He placed it horizontally inside the opening and then pressed a green button. The device opened wider as its hydraulics moved outwards, until it became firmly lodged between the stone walls.

  Sam then placed a second one just a little higher, and then gripping the higher of the two rods, he lifted his feet on top of the first and swung himself up. Once standing fully on the first bar, Sam was easily able to reach the top of the vertical tunnel.

  “What did I say? Easy…” Sam gloated.

  “Cheat.” Tom looked at him from below. “Am I coming with you?”

  Sam then unrolled a small, nylon ladder. It was attached to the second rod, which he’d fixed to the very top of the vertical opening.

  “Come on up.”

  The second chamber appeared to be identical to the first, only this one had giant statues on either side of the opening. One at each end, both stood at least seven feet high. It was impossible to determine if they were supposed to be enemies or friends – both were fully clad in warrior garments.

  “Do you think one of these guys is Ajtzak?” Tom asked.

  “Could be. I’ve never seen a picture of him.”

  Directly above the opening through which Sam had entered the chamber was another shaft extending high above them.

  Sam took a step back to examine the place, and felt the block below his foot move slightly. Below, a sound of high pressured liquid moving stone, could be heard.

  He looked around the room, half expecting the walls to cave in on him, “Any ideas where they came from Tom?”

  “I heard it, but I can’t see anything.”

  Sam bent down to disconnect his hydraulic device from the shaft below.

  “Say Tom, did you happen to notice those spears there on our way up?”

  “What spears?”

  Tom looked down the shaft they had just climbed.

  Four large spears, made of iron, had appeared from the floor below.

  “Whoever built this didn’t plan on any grave robbers,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, well I have no desire to rob from the dead, but do you have a plan to get out of here?”

  “Not yet. I’m working on it.” Sam then looked around the room and at the shaft above. “Shall we continue?”

  “After you.”

  Sam followed the same plan as the first one they had used to reach the next chamber. The only difference was that this time the stakes had lethal consequences if he failed.

  Sam climbed the stone ladder nearly seventy feet before he came to the final chamber. His head had barely passed the opening, and he was certain that they had discovered the final resting place of a king, but which king?

  Tom popped his head up through the shaft a moment later.

  “I’ll be darned!”

  “What is it, Tom?”

  “We’ve just found the final resting place of king Ajtzak.”

  *

  At the center of the room, directly above the shaft that ran all the way to the entrance of the pyramid’s chambers more than a hundred feet below, Tom was able to see the source of the strange bluish glow. A perfectly round ball, no larger than his fist and made of a dark blue crystal-like stone, resonated light, as though it were a diamond.

  Where it drew its light from remained a mystery – Tom could only guess. The Mayans who had built it had somehow drawn light from hundreds of feet above, perhaps so it would always shine on their old king.

  It must still be daytime out
side.

  The room was large, maybe forty feet wide. Its walls rose in a perfect pyramid, culminating in the roof high above and meeting where the blue stone rested, like a world globe illuminating the room. At each of the four walls, a single man stood with his hands above his head as though he were supporting the roof above. There, more than a hundred intricate pictographs and hieroglyphics adorned the room.

  At the center of the room, a sarcophagus rested.

  On top of it, a pictograph depicted a man holding a scepter. Only, the man was garlanded in colorful stones, and the scepter was formed by an indentation on the sarcophagus, as though the real scepter awaited to be returned.

  “What makes you so certain this was king Ajtzak’s tomb?” Sam interrupted his examination of the room.

  “Because that’s his family emblem.”

  “What is?”

  Tom touched the pictograph at the base of the sarcophagus, “Here. See these four horsemen, carrying spears? They’re looking up and worshiping their deity – a man with a hawk head and headdress with a sun disk.”

  “AKA, Ra, the Sun God in ancient Egyptian culture,” Sam stared at it in wonder.

  “Right you are. Hey, what do you know about Egypt?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Tom ran his hands along the crest of the deity, and then added, “I only remember it because when I called a professor of Mayan archaeology at the University of Mexico, he said that Ajtzak used a very specific symbol, which looked almost exactly like that of Ra, the God of Sun. But, as even I know, the mention of Ra was only ever found in Egypt, never on this side of the Atlantic. What’s stranger still, this reference to Ra, can’t be found anywhere else throughout his bloodline or the rest of the Mayan culture.”

  “The Egyptians believed that Ra was swallowed every night by the sky goddess Nut, and was reborn every morning. They also believed that he traveled through the underworld at night,” Sam repeated what he knew about Ra.

  “So the real question to ask is, what is an Egyptian sized pyramid and Egyptian God doing on this side of the Atlantic, at the burial site for a Mayan King?”

  “I have no idea. But if we can get this cyanide problem fixed, I’m sure some archeologists are going to have a field day in here.” Sam regarded the walls again. “I had a quick look at Mayan mythology on my tablet while waiting for you to come round earlier. It appears this room is an abstract combination of the Mayan beliefs.”

  “Such as?”

  “The Maya believe in a universe consisting of heavens above and underworlds below, with the human world between. Linking the three realms was a giant tree whose roots reached into the underworld and branches stretched to heaven. The gods and the souls of the dead traveled between worlds along this tree.”

  “Interesting. So we’ve just found the inner sanctum of king Ajtzak’s tomb?” Tom tapped on the sarcophagus. “Are you starting to get the feeling that no one really knew this king? As though, maybe, he came from somewhere else?”

  “As in, Egypt?” Sam replied.

  “Exactly.”

  Tom continued to scan the vivid imagery on the walls. There were animals and humans, snakes – all sorts of creatures. Tunnels, similar to the shafts he had just climbed, appeared to swirl around the walls of the room, until he realized that they weren’t tunnels – they were branches of a tree, and its roots.

  On the wall was a symbol Tom had never seen before. It was small, and made of bronze, depicting a man with a measuring tool standing above an army. It seemed almost irrelevant compared with the other treasures that adorned the King’s final resting chamber. Yet somehow, it looked like it could have once been important.

  One look at Sam’s face when he saw it confirmed his instincts.

  “You’ve seen it before?”

  “Yes.” Sam was quiet and unusually distant.

  “Where?” Tom pursued the question. It was unlike Sam to be coy with him. “What does it mean?”

  “Back in Afghanistan… When I was removed from active duty, I was sent to explore a prehistoric ruin, overrun with encryptions and mazes. At the very top of the structure was the symbol of the civilization that built it. Their mark. It was simple, almost bland by comparison with the structure they had created – just like that one…”

  “So, you’re saying that these people, who lived in Afghanistan many years ago, also lived in Central America?”

  “No.”

  “But this is the tomb of a Mayan King?”

  “Yes, but the Master Builders lived by building great structures. One theory is that they never even built these things themselves, but instead commanded great armies to do it for them. They would have been more accurately described as Master Engineers. And this, I believe, would have been just one of their many projects – for a price.”

  “And what was that price?”

  “That I’ve never been able to work out. In fact, so far, I don’t even have proof they ever existed. The only evidence I have is that many of the ancient wonders could not have been built without such a race.”

  *

  Eight hours later, after a prolonged decompression period in the Rock, Sam and Tom stepped outside the hyperbaric chamber and onto the deck of the moon pool. Sam looked at the faces of the people who worked and lived aboard the Maria Helena. They were his family, and each face displayed its own way of coping with a near death experience of one of its members.

  “All right, you lot. We’re okay.” Sam scanned their faces for relief, and found none. “We all know it takes a lot more than a cracked faceplate at a few hundred feet of water to damage Tom’s ugly face any more than Mother Nature.”

  “I’ve had a look myself, and I think the blow might have done some improvements.” Tom spoke with the relaxed self-assurance of a man whose strong jaw line and intensely grey, piercing eyes, had stolen many a woman’s heart.

  “Now, as much as I’m glad you all care about our survival, we have some important work ahead of us. Let’s not forget that several tons of hydrogen cyanide are still leaking out of a hole in the seafloor. I want everyone in the mission room within ten minutes. Grab yourselves a quick coffee, or whatever drug you use to keep focused. I need to debrief what we discovered, and plan our next steps.”

  Eight minutes later, Sam stood at the head of the table in the mission room. Each person on board the Maria Helena was there, all fifteen of them, and each looked up, focused on what he was about to say. He could feel the tension as he spoke.

  “We made our dive to the seafloor in search of one answer, but have instead come back with a multitude of unanswered questions. Two distinctly different challenges, requiring two different teams to resolve. The first, and paramount purpose of our mission is to discover the source of the leaking hydrogen cyanide and block it. The second is of an archeological nature. The pyramid will be treated as an archeological site, with our team primarily providing the logistical needs of the archeologists to investigate.”

  Sam drank from his cup of hot chocolate before he continued speaking. “It appears that the source of the hydrogen cyanide leak is through a crack in the outer wall of a subterranean Mayan pyramid. It’s unlikely to have come from the local silver mine as first expected, but instead from a cyanide store.”

  “Mayan cyanide store?” Veyron asked.

  “Yes, Mayan. I do realize that cyanide wasn’t utilized in mining until the 17th century in Europe, but there has been evidence over the years that both the Mayans and the Aztecs discovered the benefit cyanide served in separating raw mining materials such as gold and silver, centuries earlier. My guess is that a recent drilling or explosions from the nearby silver mine most likely damaged the old store, sending its lethal poison into the Gulf.”

  “I want you, Veyron, to head up a team of engineers to work out the solution to remove any additional poison from the cracked wall. Then work out a way to fill the entire area with concrete, so that if we miss anything, it will be another thousand years before the stuff escapes ag
ain.”

  “Got it,” Veyron acknowledged.

  “Tom, once someone checks you out and makes certain you’re fit to dive again, I want you to head up a team to search the pyramid and what appeared to be the King’s Tomb.”

  “You don’t want to run it?” Tom asked, his surprise clearly evident in his face.

  “I do, but my first mission must be to resolve this marine catastrophe.” Sam grinned. “I have a number of personal reasons why I’m intent on exploring the pyramid’s hidden secrets, but it can’t be my priority. I’m going to need to make some calls, and manage the overall project from topside. Don’t forget, we have less than a month until we’re in the midst of hurricane season. It might sound straightforward, but don’t forget we’re working in up to 400 feet of water, inside a narrow tunnel. We have no way of knowing how stable the pyramid’s walls are, or what’s on the other side of that cracked wall.”

  Veyron raised his left hand, only slightly, as though he had something to say.

  “Yes, Veyron?”

  “Why don’t we just back fill the entire pyramid with concrete? It would be less risky, and I’m sure whoever’s buried down there wouldn’t mind being just that little bit more… how do I say? Snug?”

  “We may have to if our first option becomes too difficult or unsafe, but I believe this site holds far too many secrets and insights into the Mayan culture to be forever buried in thousands of tons of concrete. During the Spanish conquest, the Catholic Church and colonial officials, guided by Bishop Diego de Landa, destroyed Maya texts wherever they found them, and with them the knowledge of Maya writing. The writings on these walls may hold a wealth of information about pre-Spanish Mayan culture, which I would hate to see buried for eternity.”

  “Okay, I’ll do my best to preserve it,” Veyron acknowledged.

  Returning to the cyanide problem, Sam continued, “For all we know, the mine has been stockpiling the waste product from their silver mine in an underground tunnel, with no idea that one day it would break into a pyramid. Make no mistake ladies and gentlemen, this is a serious undertaking, with deadly consequences for the world’s marine life.”