The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  Billie’s fingers, unable to reach the top of the enormous sarcophagus, slipped as she tried to climb up its sharp walls.

  Tom shuffled down, and asked, “Want a lift?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, wishing she didn’t need his help.

  “Not a problem,” Tom said, lifting her onto his shoulders.

  His hand, she noticed, slipped, catching her butt for support – remaining there a moment longer than it should have. And then he quickly removed it before she said anything. Billie reached further, and caught the top of the stone block, allowing her to climb up.

  For a second, she wondered if Tom had meant to place his hand there. The minor indiscretion was soon lost in her desire to see the looking glass.

  She stepped up onto her tippy toes, so that she could place her eye right up to the optical lens. On the other side, Billie could see a room. It was similar to the one that she was already in, and at its center, another sarcophagus – only this one didn’t appear Mayan at all.

  Forgetting about Tom’s actions, she said, “Do you think that whoever’s been watching us is in the room directly above us?”

  “No, I think they’re farther away than that,” Tom replied.

  “Farther away? What are you talking about? Now that I’m up here, I can see that this thing is only a few inches long, and clearly shows the room above.”

  “That’s not possible. I’ve already done the basic arithmetic, and a few feet above us is the entrance to the pyramid. There’s no way there’s another room. Besides, didn’t you notice that wherever that looking glass seems to end up, it too, looks down upon a room, not up?”

  “You’re right,” she said, chiding herself for letting her nerves affect her usual circumspection. “Before, when I was climbing, you said that I did something to change the image here, is that right?”

  “Yes, I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, the ball went from a dark, impenetrable blue, to this clear window into what appears to me to be another tomb.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Okay, help me down, I’m going to retrace my steps and see if I can change it again.”

  “You’re the boss,” he said, without wiping the grin off his face.

  Ordinarily, she would have sworn at him for his behavior, but she was too enamored with their discovery to even think about him. He had an attractive face, and was mostly harmless.

  She climbed down and then up the base of the sarcophagus a number of times. “Any changes?”

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  “There must have been something,” she said, and then saw it. Along the base of the cradle for the missing scepter, stood a small wheel, with a number of jagged edges, giving it the appearance of the cog on a bicycle. She counted the edges. There were thirteen in total. She gave it the slightest of turns, and the largest of the twelve stone spikes now pointed in another direction. “Anything?”

  “Yes, what the hell did you do?”

  “Not much. I just rotated this stone dial. Why, what do you see?”

  “It appears to be a giant cave. There are markings on the walls, but nothing that means anything to me.”

  “Interesting,” she said, turning the dial again, “and now?”

  “Another tomb.”

  “The first one we saw?”

  “No, this one seems smaller. And the markings are different.”

  Suddenly, she no longer saw the wall of the sarcophagus as a number of indiscriminate pictographs, from seemingly random places and cultures throughout history. Now, it appeared as though it were a map, with the power to see different parts of the world.

  She quickly examined the other images on the wall. There was a petroglyph of the Congo River, the pyramid of Giza, and a Siberian rune with an inscription.

  Rotating the stone again, she asked, “What do you see?”

  “Another room. Only this one is definitely bigger. It appears to be the final resting chamber of three separate kings.”

  Her eyes then spotted a pair of Atlantean rings and bar.

  She turned the dial again so that the stone spike and the image perfectly aligned. “What about now?”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Tom said.

  “Try me.”

  “It appears to be the remains of a ruined city... and the city is submerged. The water is clear, and appears shallow, the sunlight from above sprinkling through, as though from the ripples of the waves on the surface. There are structures in the distance and they’re covered in –”

  “An orange metallic material,” Billie finished the sentence for him.

  “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

  “Because I just pointed the dial towards Atlantis.”

  *

  Billie took a step back and then ran at the sarcophagus. With two nimble paces, she was standing on top of it and said, “I have to see it!”

  “See what?” Tom asked.

  “Atlantis!” she screamed.

  “I thought you weren’t interested in Atlantis?”

  “No, I said that I wasn’t searching for it, which is very different than not wanting to see it when it literally appears before you.”

  She moved closer towards Tom, trying to get as close to the looking glass as possible. On the tips of her toes, her hand gripped his for balance. She felt his other arm instinctively wrap behind her.

  Closing her left eye so that she could focus on the looking glass, she saw the little blue light. At first it was opaque, but then her eyes began to make sense of the turbid vision on the other side.

  A ruined city appeared.

  It was submerged by water, and appeared close to the surface, as though it had remained hidden all these years in no more than thirty or forty feet. Glimmerings of light from the ripples of the ocean above could still be seen. And on the walls of the remaining structures, an orange metal.

  “My God – it is Atlantis!” Billie said, and then, kissed him on his lips.

  “What was that?” he replied, an attractive smile, bordering on absent confusion, radiating fondly.

  She was still holding on to him and noticeably let go before explaining, “See this orange material?”

  “Yes… it looks kind of like bronze and copper.”

  “Only it’s not. It’s Orichalcum!”

  “What the hell’s that?”

  “Orichalcum is a kind of fabled metal, described in a number of very old writings, most notably, the Critias Dialogue recorded by Plato. Orichalcum was considered second only to gold in value, and only ever found and mined in Atlantis. A vibrant orange in color, it was thought to be an alloy, containing a unique combination of gold, copper, zinc, iron and lead, with gold the highest percentage.”

  She saw the pupils in Tom’s beautiful hazel eyes swell.

  Few, she noticed, were immune to the allure of Atlantis. “If it was an alloy, can’t people simply mimic it?”

  “No. What made Orichalcum so unique was that it wasn’t a manmade alloy, at all. Instead, it was a naturally occurring ore, which was mined. Despite knowing the mix, the alloy can’t seem to be reproduced, artificially. One theory is that volcanic activity molded the combination of raw materials into the unique alloy. This, in turn, has led many archeologists to search for Atlantis where ancient volcanoes are now submerged. But there has never been any real proof that it or Atlantis even existed – until now.”

  *

  Tom stared at her perfect face.

  It was only for a couple seconds, but maybe, just too long. Billie, he decided, had the rare combination of an almost demure smile, perfect teeth, and brown captivating eyes. Right now, those eyes sparkled with excitement, making her even more attractive, if that were possible.

  How such a face could harbor an intelligent mind yet explode with such offensive language simply baffled him. Nonetheless, he would have paid a very high price to kiss those lips again.

  “Do you understand what this means?” Billie asked, stepping back. Tom reluctantly let go of he
r firm back.

  “Hmm…That you’ll forgive Sam for dragging you away from Antarctica?”

  “Yes. Wait, no. I’m still pissed as all hell about that. This means we just discovered something that’s been lost for more than two thousand years!”

  Tom noted that she made no reference to the kiss. It was an accident, brought on by her excitement, and nothing more. Trying to focus on their discovery instead, he said, “There’s just one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We still have no idea where that looking glass has been taking us.”

  She stopped looking, and looked back at him. “You’re right. But there must be some way to find out. I mean, it isn’t electronic. It’s just some form of translucent crystal. Atlantis must be close.”

  “Are you sure?”

  For the first time since he met her, Billie looked uncomfortable, as though there were a crack in her certainty. “Yes, of course. Why?”

  “Because you told me that the map below showed images from Siberia through to Africa. Which means, apart from now seeing the image of that ruined city, we’re no closer to discovering it than the rest of the world in the past two thousand years.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” she said.

  “How so?”

  “Because we know that it’s real.”

  *

  The two spent the rest of the day exploring the thirteen ancient visions through the looking glass. Billie thought she must understand what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole. Her entire world had changed in the space of a few hours. She had just about given up finding any more leads on the Master Builders, and was ready to return to the surface, when the discovery of the looking glass occurred.

  It wasn’t until well past midnight that she finally went to bed. Unable to sleep, her mind kept returning to the events of the day.

  The discovery would change everything.

  She had hoped it would be there too, but despite looking throughout the entire map, there was no evidence of what she’d really been looking for.

  The Lost City in the Clouds

  Billie had been looking for it since she was just six years old. Ever since her grandfather first introduced her to the myth, but like him, she knew that it was real. One day she’d find it, but this tomb wasn’t going to provide that answer.

  She put the thoughts out of her mind. So much had happened, and there was so much more that needed to be done.

  And there was the kiss, too.

  That, she thought, was a surprise. It was an accident, of course – she’d never mix business and pleasure. But it was unexpectedly nice, too.

  In the sleeping bag a few feet away, Tom, despite lying down only minutes before, appeared to be sound asleep.

  Figures…

  She watched him for a while. She’d never seen someone sleep so soundly. She recalled his face after she’d kissed him. He almost looked hurt that she hadn’t mentioned anything about it afterwards, and then, like a gentleman, he carried on with the pretense that nothing had happened.

  And nothing would happen…

  It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She’d accepted long ago that the hunt for the Lost City in the Clouds had taken its toll on her social life. But that was expected for any woman trying to achieve something in the male dominated world of archeology.

  She closed her eyes, and imagined herself kissing his boyish lips.

  It was unexpectedly pleasant…

  It would be nice to accidentally do it again…

  What made the matter worse was her knowledge that she was the one who held the power in the relationship. Tom had already given away his hand – he wanted her, that was plain as day, in his pained face. The pained face that I caused him… But she did have the ability to change that. She could have anything she wanted.

  And why shouldn’t I?

  When she couldn’t find an answer to that question, Billie slid out of her sleeping bag. Being naturally warm blooded, she slept in nothing more than her underwear. Next to her were her cargo shorts, white shirt, and handgun. Her first instinct was to get dressed, but the sight of her weapon stopped her. She still hadn’t told him about it. Carefully, she concealed the weapon with her shirt, leaving all three on the ground, and walked towards Tom.

  “You awake Tom?”

  He made no response.

  She stood up, and approached him, still uncertain what she wanted. It wasn’t until she saw his innocent, sleeping, face that she decided what she really wanted.

  A girlish grin crossed her face as she realized what it was.

  “That Motherfucker!” she swore loudly, forgetting what she was about to do.

  Tom sat up instantly, looking as though he was ready to kill any intruder. “What?”

  “Up there on the wall!”

  He jumped up, grabbing the hammer next to him as though it were a deadly weapon – and in his, it probably would be.

  “I don’t see anything. What is it?” he whispered.

  “It’s right there… the Mahogany Ship!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  At the entrance to the mine shaft, Sam looked at Frank’s serious face and said, “What if we were wrong about the coin having to come from further upstream?”

  “No, that can’t be right. The coin didn’t travel on its own. The river would have been required to move it to where you found it. Therefore, the coin must have entered the river upstream, and then flowed over the centuries until it became imbedded in the soft, limestone sediment.”

  “You’re right about the coin having come from further upstream, but what if the Mahogany ship continued sailing downstream, taking with it whatever treasures she was carrying?”

  “Shit, you’re right!” Frank replied. “Why didn’t we think of that? Of course, the water level has been changing heights over the centuries. If the Mahogany ship somehow entered the water system, it’s conceivable that it then sailed silently further downstream, until it reached a point where its size precluded it from further movement.”

  “It’s hard to imagine a ship of that size moving through a cave system at all, but the tunnel would be large enough.”

  “Would it?” Frank asked.

  “I’m sure it would.”

  Frank opened the computer documents containing known measurements of each of the tunnels. Pointing to the only exit tunnel, he said, “No, it’s only forty feet high. There’s no way anything as large as what the Mahogany Ship was described as could possibly get through there.”

  “Unless its masts were destroyed?”

  “Even then, would the thought of a forty-foot ship sound like the description that the survivors of the Emily Rose gave of the Mahogany Ship?”

  “No, but would you trust the description of a bunch of starving survivors to provide an accurate account of the ship?”

  Raising his left eyebrow, Frank countered, “I would have been surprised if they all gave the same inaccurate one.”

  Sam paused his speech for just over a moment. He knew he had the right answer, but just didn’t quite know how to prove it.

  His eyes then lit up.

  “No, I know what happened. It’s so obvious – I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier. Come on, we have work to do.”

  *

  An hour later, Sam and Frank were standing at the diving platform inside the Mahogany Cavern. Their equipment checked and then rechecked, they were about to put Sam’s theory to the test.

  Opening his dive tank to full, Sam said, “A similar thing happened with the Magdalena – a lost airship from World War II, filled with Jewish treasure. The silt had built up over the years until she was sitting high and dry.”

  “But the tunnel’s still below the waterline,” Frank replied.

  “Yes, but I realized what the movement of silt could do in 75 years, then in the 200 years since the Mahogany Ship was last seen above ground, the size of that tunnel could have changed extensively.”


  “You seem pretty certain of yourself.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make sense of all of this. It’s the only explanation.”

  Sam then placed the mask over his face, and pin dived into the water below. The two Seadoos were tied up, just below the work platform. He waited for Frank to follow and start the little electric motor on the Seadoo, and then took off in the direction of the flowing water.

  It only took a couple minutes to reach the entrance to the downstream tunnel. For the first time since he arrived, Sam noticed that it appeared to form an incomplete semicircle, imagining just how large it could be if that circle had been allowed to be completed.

  He drove his Seadoo to the base of the tunnel’s entrance. The sand was deep. It would take weeks to dig it out to know for sure, but it certainly looked like the depth of the tunnel could be doubled if the sand were removed.

  “How far have you traveled down this tunnel?” Sam asked.

  “We haven’t. We all thought that the Mahogany Ship could have never gotten this far.”

  “All right, here’s to hoping that she lies on the other end of this tunnel.”

  Sam then drove his machine into the tunnel, his powerful LED headlight shining on the long passage ahead. The flow of the water was stronger, having been fed by the other five upstream channels. He was glad that he was using his motorized Seadoo and doubted very much that he could swim against the current if he had to. In the back of his mind, something told him that he should have run a safety line, but he was too eager to know the truth.

  Nearly an hour later, Frank drove towards him, “Sam, how much further do you want to go?”

  “Until we reach the Mahogany Ship,” Sam replied.

  “Are you sure? We haven’t set up for a prolonged dive.”

  “Yes.”

  Sam continued, at full speed.

  Frank asked, “Don’t you want to stop and search the areas that we’ve already covered?”

  “No. If it’s here, we’ll see her.”

  Sam looked down at the energy marker on his Seadoo. It was reading orange. He had plenty of power left. A little more than half what he started the day with, but the return trip, against the current, was going to exhaust a lot more power.