The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  This room displayed none of the watermarks seen in the previous rooms, meaning that it had remained dry throughout the ages.

  The room was said to be one stadia in length and half one wide. But what the Atlanteans called a stadia appeared much smaller in real life. In fact, it appeared no larger than a movie theatre. The interior was less grand than expected despite fundamentally matching the description that Plato gave in his Critias Dialogue. The roof was made of intermittent ivory as described in the two and a half thousand-year-old story, and the walls had silver, gold and orichalcum scattered. Poseidon himself stood as a statue standing on top of the chariot drawn by a six winged horse. Unlike the descriptions she had read, the God of the Sea had gold armor, but it certainly was not made of gold. Poseidon’s height fell short of the ceiling by no more than a couple feet. Above his head, the ivory had turned brown.

  “There’s a fortune worth of precious stones covering this temple, but nothing like we were led to believe,” Billie said. Her tone was almost disappointed.

  Edward nearly read her mind. “But it seems an anticlimax of the vivid description by Plato.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I wouldn’t fuss. What we are after is worth a lot more than ten times this amount of gold.”

  Billie smiled as she began to climb the back of the six winged golden horse. “Don’t remind me. We’re here to save the world.”

  Edward began reciting the navigational guide they found in the Tibetan Atlantis. “For the six winged beast that pulled Poseidon’s chariot stared at something more valuable and dangerous still than the entire temple – the prefix to the code to Atlantis.”

  She scaled the gargantuan beast without a thought of the thirty feet in which it rose above the ground.

  And then swore.

  The kind of curse that echoed throughout the temple until it sunk heavily in Edward’s heart, and he knew in an instant that all was lost.

  “What is it?”

  She quickly slid down the back of the horse.

  “Someone’s beaten us to it.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because the entire piece of orichalcum in which it was supposed to be contained is completely missing. A blank hole in the ceiling is the only evidence that it once existed at all. Looks recent, too.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “There are drill marks in the ceiling. They look like someone’s used a power drill to quickly remove the orichalcum placard without any care for stealing the rest of the temple’s treasures. And that means to me that whoever did so knew the value of the code to Atlantis.”

  “It also means that pygmy leader lied to us. Someone’s previously entered the temple and come out alive.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Edward watched as Dr. Swan sat down in front of him. Despite her outwardly hard-ass appearance, he could tell she wanted to cry. The inner workings of her mind, unfamiliar with failure, continued to search for the next solution.

  “If you don’t mind, Dr. Swan, I would like to find a way out of here. If we’ve failed, I for one would like to spend my remaining days on earth somewhere other than this godforsaken temple.”

  “I agree, but I’m not convinced that this is the end. I refuse to believe we can’t find another solution.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but anything’s better than the alternative. Sam Reilly uses a computer whiz who can work miracles. Perhaps now that we have half of the code, she can break the first half of it. It’s unlikely, but I’ve never been very good at rolling over and dying.”

  “Okay, so you’ll take your chances on the cryptanalysis, and computer geeks. What will you do with your remaining days?”

  “I’m going back to Atlantis. If I can contact Sam and Tom, I’ll bring them too, and we’ll revisit the temple. See if there’s anything I missed.”

  Edward smiled at her, like he would his own daughter, if only he looked at his own daughter like that. She had betrayed him. Of that, he was certain, but he didn’t know why – after all he’d done for her. He looked around the temple. “Now that we’ve reached this point, do you have any idea how the hell we are going to get out of here again?”

  Billie reached for a lever behind Poseidon and pulled. “That’s simple. We reset the three challenges, like this.”

  The door opened behind them, as well as a number of doors behind that, so that they could simply walk out through the same entrance they came in.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Edward said.

  They climbed through the tunnel, across the stepping stones, past the swinging pendulum, which should have killed Edward, had it not been for his sacrifice. Then across the deep chasm, where the bridge remained after they worked out the right number of stones to move. And then through the tunnel with the cantilevered roof. Following the entrance tunnel, the dim light of the outside world became visible once more.

  Billie stepped into the dismal sunlight of the pygmy’s jungle.

  Mark picked her up in a joyous hug and said, “You did it Dr. Swan! By God, I thought for certain I was waiting for my death, and then the door popped open again.” He then noticed her more despondent appearance. “What’s wrong? Did you get it?”

  “Someone beat us to it,” Billie mumbled under her breath.

  “It was all for nothing.” For the first time, Billie heard Edward complain.

  In the background the hundreds of pygmy warriors began to chant. Their weapons pounded the ground with a dire staccato. It could have been a warrior dance after victory, but as she studied them, Billie knew they were more sinister than that.

  Mark looked at them, and said, “I guess we won’t have to worry about the end of the world, or stopping the cataclysmic event at Atlantis.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, I think these pygmies are going to finish us now.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Through the forest of warrior pygmies came their leader, Zanzibe. He was smiling like a fiendish demon. It was impossible to tell whether or not this meant he was happy or angry. He approached with a knife in his hand. It was made of orichalcum and adorned with precious and semiprecious stones. Billie noticed that despite its ornamental appearance, the weapon still had a razor sharp edge.

  Was that the weapon designed to kill his Gods?

  It wouldn’t have surprised Billie in the least if these violent pygmies actually slaughtered their own creators. They may have worshiped the ancient people of Atlantis for eleven thousand years, but they were slaves to no one.

  She didn’t bother to look for somewhere to run. They had passed the point of escape. Surrounded by hundreds of pygmy warriors, and deep in the jungle, their time had ended. Watching as the leader approached her, she noticed a heightened sensation in everything she did. Every precious breath of air she drew into her lungs, every smell, the constant drum of her own heartbeat in her chest, all made her feel alive.

  “Zanzibe,” Billie said his name as he approached.

  “Dr. Swan.” He grinned revealing a mouth full of white teeth, sharpened like fine spikes. “You are the first white people to have ever beaten the three challenges.”

  “That’s great, but it was all for nothing.”

  “Why so sad? You have what you came for. You reached the inner sanctum of the temple. Have you not?”

  “Yes, but it has been looted and stripped until all written markings were entirely removed. There is nothing of any intellectual value for us there.”

  “Yes. Before I became king some white men came with guns. They forced their way into the temple, and stripped it of everything.”

  “The Nazis reached it!” Billie said.

  “That’s the first I’ve heard about them getting this far,” Edward said.

  “All this time, and Hitler’s little vermin still have the ability to kill millions of lives.”

  The little pygmy bowed his head. “I’m sorry that you have traveled so far only to discover tha
t what you searched for had been stolen years ago. Can I ask precisely what you seek?”

  “How much do you know about the people who built this shrine?”

  “You mean our Gods?”

  “Yes.”

  “They came from a land across the sea and were the most powerful of all, until the heavens became jealous and struck them from above with a million individual fires, until their land sank once more into the sea.”

  “That’s about as much as we know about your Gods,” Billie confirmed. “In their first home, a machine survived the disaster, which has the power to create much good or death in the world. Legend has it that there is a code to activate the machine. It was so valuable, that the code was broken into two and then a shrine in two separate parts of the world stored one half each. We have already found one of the halves in mountains far away from here. The other half, we were hoping to find here.”

  “Yes, I know about the code to Atlantis. People before you have come in search of it. I wish I could help you. Maybe if I had something similar to see, then I could help. Perhaps I’ve seen it before.”

  She looked at him, doubtful, and then handed her tablet over with the image of the second half of the code to Atlantis. The pygmy took it, and Billie asked, “Ever seen anything like this?”

  The pygmy grinned. “As a matter of fact, Dr. Swan, I have.”

  “Really, where?”

  “Until recently, it was in the temple, just here.”

  Her heart sank.

  So it was destroyed then, and with it, all hope.

  “There is nothing more we can do.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Why? What else do you have in mind?”

  “Because, my people built this temple thousands of years ago, as a tribute to the real Gods. They adorned the walls with gold – the closest metal to that which the God’s covered their own temple, which glowed red.”

  “Your people built this temple?” Billie asked, in surprise.

  The pygmy nodded his head.

  “It’s not the original temple of Poseidon? It was a replica?” Edward said.

  “Yes,” the pygmy replied.

  Billie looked around. “But where’s the original?”

  “The original was found by my great ancestors thousands upon thousands of years ago. But I’m afraid that when the Congo River swelled, our God’s shrine was flooded. For years, our men would swim into it and study it, so that we could recreate it exactly in their image. As the millennia went by, the mighty Congo grew, and soon only the strongest of swimmers could reach it. Now, it would be impossible to swim to such a depth.”

  He grinned again. “But on your boat, Dr. Swan, I’m sure you would have the means to reach it!”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Andrew opened the second meeting of the Phoenix Resistance via video conference. Without wasting time with any of the formalities, or arcane rituals, Andrew began his rundown of their situation.

  “So far we have followed Mr. Reilly and his companion to an Atlantean Temple, in the high altitude mountain of Kangchenjunga, which rests partly between Tibet, Nepal, and Sikkim. The place appears to be an 11,000-year-old cavern that stores the archives of the entire history of the people of Atlantis. I have been told that despite it being built after the destruction of Atlantis, it spans nearly a hundred thousand years’ worth of their documented history.”

  It was news to some of the men within the society – but to others, he had said nothing they didn’t already know.

  Andrew continued. “We have reason to believe the temple has recently been examined by Dr. Swan, and in doing so, she has found the location of the second temple. Our team are currently on Mount Kangchenjunga attempting to solve its numerous markings and notations. And work out where her team has gone.”

  He intentionally lied, knowing that one man amongst them was a traitor.

  Armel brazenly interrupted. “And what of Mr. Reilly and his companion?”

  “Both men have been eliminated,” Andrew replied confidently. “Gentlemen, soon we must prepare for what is to come. In less than two weeks, the world will be a very different place!”

  There was a strong cheer amongst the members of the Phoenix Resistance.

  Kazimir, the Russian, hushed them all. “I am afraid to inform you, Master. Sam Reilly and Tom Bower were not killed as you were led to believe.”

  “That’s impossible, I saw them killed with my own eyes. Multiple hand grenades exploded right next to them!” Andrew did not believe what the Russian was telling him.

  “Then your own eyes deceived you.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Two days ago, I received word from an agency of mine – Sam Reilly’s Gulfstream arrived in Tunguska.”

  Andrew swore. “But who got out?”

  “Master, I have photographs of Sam Reilly and Tom Bower. They had borrowed a Kharkovchanka from a local, and loaded it with Atmospheric Diving Suits – which means…”

  “I know what it bloody well means!” Andrew swore again. “I thought you said your grandfather took care of the problem in 1908 when he and Teddy Roosevelt came to the agreement that all information concerning Atlantis must be destroyed, or at least locked away in a time capsule until it could no longer cause harm!”

  Kazimir put his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “I assure you, we have taken steps to stop would-be explorers from stumbling upon the truth. Sam Reilly will find nothing of use to him. And as for the American time capsule, it can’t be opened until the end of the month – when it no longer has the ability to do any harm to our operation.”

  “Yeah – then why the hell did two people in Nepal feel the need, after nearly being killed by my men, to go directly to Siberia with fucking Atmospheric Diving Suits?”

  “I have no idea, sir. But I can assure you, I have already arranged for the systems in place to ensure they don’t reach it.”

  “You better hope they work better than your grandfather’s pact to keep it secret. Otherwise we’re all going to have a lot more to deal with than we bargained for!”

  Andrew then canceled their connection.

  It was time for him to take Dr. Swan and visit Atlantis with the code.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Sam and Tom made two reconnaissance circuits of the area from above. Sam imagined that this place eleven thousand years ago might have been above ground. The rings would have served as massive moats, designed to keep enemies out, each one more protected than the preceding one. Then, in the southern end of the inner-most indentation, Tom spotted an opening in the rock wall, inside the moat. Next to it was a large rectangular stone, broken in two, and roughly matching the dimensions of the opening.

  “Shall we?” Sam asked, looking at the opening and hoping his ADS machine would fit inside.

  “After you. I’ll fix a bolt into the wall here so we have something else to use to pull ourselves out with if we become stuck.”

  Sam waited while Tom inserted the bolt into the wall and then connected his safety tether to it. He then shined his flashlight into the tunnel. The light dimmed in the distance, and he couldn’t quite tell if the tunnel changed direction, or the light simply couldn’t penetrate its depth. The tunnel was quite large. Nearly ten feet in height and another five wide. Plenty of room for his ADS machine, but not as much as he’d like. In his left hand, inside the suit, Sam adjusted the angle so that he entered the room horizontally, instead of vertically. This provided him with more maneuverability, if more obstacles stood in their way.

  “You with me, Tom?” he asked as he reached fifty feet inside the tunnel.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  At a hundred and twenty feet the tunnel opened into a large room. A quick scan revealed it to be a large square approximately forty feet wide. At the far end the tunnel continued deeper into the temple. Only the tunnel didn’t continue forever. Instead, its ceiling, presumably hinged on large hidden bolts, dipped in height in a gradual downward di
rection until it touched the floor. The roof space was covered in wooden spikes that gave Sam a clear indication of what the roof would do to a person who failed the challenge. At the center of the room a steel bar hung from the ceiling above a stone chair and table in which a person could lock their legs. The mechanism had most likely failed, but there was no doubt in his mind what it was once used for. The only question was, could they progress through the temple, if the mechanisms had failed?

  Above the chair some text could be seen on the stone roof in large, bold, lettering, the same used by the Master Builders. Sam moved closer to the inscription and examined it. The individual lettering had been damaged but enough were intact that he could make out the words.

  Sam read each one slowly and out loud, “Strength, intelligence, sacrifice, and wealth”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Tom said.

  “No, I can’t say it does. By the looks of things, the ancient people of Atlantis went to some extreme lengths to ensure that only the worthy reached their temple. I couldn’t imagine any of the mechanisms are still working after all these years.”

  “Even so, I’d like to understand how each of these rooms operated before we get ourselves killed by an eleven thousand year-old booby-trap.”

  “Only in Indiana Jones stories are these things still active,” Sam said, with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel.

  Moving toward the end of the downward sloping tunnel with the remains of spikes on the room, Sam found something to reassure himself. At the end of the tunnel the roof had been pried open with a pair of hydraulic struts. “There, this room must have once been the test of strength. Somehow, you needed to lift the roof or something. Of course, whoever did reach this place in 1908 weren’t playing by the Atlantean’s rules.”

  Entering the second room, Sam was greeted by a massive room with a chasm in the middle nearly twenty feet wide. The remains of a bridge could be seen at the bottom – not that it would be required now that the entire room had been flooded. Next to it, a golden pair of scales stood, as though they were forever waiting for someone to balance them. On the wall, where they approached was the word, INTELLECT. Across the chasm, a steel ladder had been strung. At its base, the small emblem of an American Flag shined bright.