by Abhishek Roy
“There. We will have to spend the night here.” pointed Vivek.
***
ISTANBUL TO NEVSEHIR E80 HIGHWAY
March 14, 2017, Tuesday, 0730 hours
We were back on our way to Derinkuyu. Early in the morning the landscape looked primordial; as if it held many secrets, waiting to be unearthed.
“It should take us about four hours more to get to Derinkuyu. In fact, we are very close to Ankara. So we can stop there for some time if we need to have lunch or something.” suggested Vivek.
“We might need a nice lunch because the breakfast we ate wasn’t really... hearty.” Ram smiled.
“You can’t expect anything better here in the middle of the Anatolian plateau.” countered Vivek.
“Point noted!” exclaimed Ram and we had a small laugh.
In about a half hour, we had reached the city of Ankara. It was like any other modern city but didn’t do the best job of concealing the rich history behind it. We stopped their in the outer regions of the city and each of us had a burger while gazing at the city coming to life from far away.
“I like this place,” said Ram in between bites.” You can see the entire city from here.”
“True,” concurred Vivek.
“It’s sad we don’t have the time to go in and explore,” I added, in a melancholy tone.
“Yeah. You don’t want to do that especially when you are wanted for extending your day visa. We are illegal trespassers now. Remember?” Said Vivek.
Within a few minutes we were back in the car. After another two hours or so, we passed the city of Kirsehir and after nearly another hour, we had a visual on the city of Nevsehir. It wasn’t the best city but it was reminiscent of prehistoric cities. The city had lots of small mud buildings, much like Meerut but also had a high hill with an extremely old and broken fort on its peak. This looked much like a citadel.
“Nevsehir has an airport, right?” asked a visibly tired Ram.
“Yes it does.” I answered.
“Then why didn’t we -”
“Wasn’t it easier and safer for us to travel by car than go to an airport and come face to face with security officials?” Vivek retorted. Ram understood the rhetorical question at once.
Eventually, after thirty more minutes, we arrived at the small town of Derinkuyu. It was enveloped by pastures and fields on all sides which felt like a protective and fruitful outer layer, protecting the city from the climatic harshness outside.
It was a really small town with houses scattered here and there on either side of the roads passing through it. While still on the highway, we turned right at a specific point and drove straight into the heart of the city. Thanks to the translator, we managed to get directions to the world heritage site of the famed underground city.
“Aah...” Vivek sighed loudly as he locked the car and stretched his body. Vivek parked the car in the tiny parking lot by paying a small fee and it was from here that we could see the site ahead.
We were at the exact centre of the city where the sightseeing spots were all concentrated. In fact, it seemed as if the entire city was built around these structures.
The three of us walked up to the clearing in the centre from where one could see every significant structure. Towards the west and north west were a few small patches of grass where a few civilians walked in pleasure. A lone minaret was visible far in the north and behind us, facing north east was a building with a large diamond shaped plaque. What it said was ‘Derinkuyu Yeralti sehri’ and I didn’t need a translator to understand that it meant ‘Derinkuyu Underground city’. It was also written than it was registered as a World Heritage Site in 1985.
“Hey, guys,” cried out Ram and nudged Vivek and me. “See that structure over there?” He was pointing at something far. We followed his finger and spotted the object.
“Yeah, there is a mosque over there,” I said, squinting to observe the building.
“Mosque? Look at it carefully,” he said, a sly smile on his lips.
My eyes squinted more and I noticed a hole on its wall which was shaped most certainly, like a crucifix.
“Is that a crucifix cut out from the wall?” I asked.
“Yes it is. You see, you can find many churches around Turkey because a long time ago, it was under the Romans.” He pulled Vivek and me closer to his face. “Which is why we are here,” he whispered. Vivek and I chuckled.
“So-” he got back to his normal voice. “It has had a lot of Christian influence. Catholic to be precise. While some of the churches have been converted to mosques like the Hagia Sophia, some are just sitting idly, reminding the people of Turkey’s diverse history.“
“Interesting.” I contemplating the stone chapel.
We walked to the building with the plaque reading ‘Derinkuyu Yeralti sehri’. There, Vivek bought three tickets for us and we dropped into the queue. It wasn’t an extremely long queue because not many people came to Derinkuyu which was right in the middle of the treacherous Anatolian Plateau.
While we waited for the guide to take us along, I felt the loud thumps of my heart against my chest. During the course of this adventure, we had done a few things that none of us could have even dreamt about doing. Ram and I had evaded some strange men in Meerut who we later learnt were actually aliens. We had been to the Himalayas, been inside a snowspout and an ancient Norwegian temple no one knew existed. Ram and I learnt bitter things about our family and found a parchment in a leather bound book which triggered this quest to find my parents. After even having done illegal things in Turkey, India, Uk and Japan, the beating heart in my chest felt like nothing. We had arrived at the place where the final key to the teleporter lay and I needed to be calm and focused to find it. I inhaled deeply and tried to calm down.
“Okay, people!” The guide said out loud. “Follow me!“
He led us into the building. We walked through a corridor and down a staircase. We must have descended at least a storey or two when the air started getting warmer and damper. The walls were made of stone and I got the eerie feeling of entering a catacomb.
“The actual entrance,” said the guide when we stopped at a door, deep underground, “is not this. The real one is behind the building with a cage to protect it. That entrance is simply a shaft through which people exchanged goods and also travelled inside and outside.” He opened the door behind him and a musty air gushed outside. The air was dusty and felt old.
“Follow me please,” he said as he led us into the city. “We are now entering the city. This city was made by a Persian king for refugees. Not only did Persians inhabit this place but also Greeks. That is why, there is also a church a hundred metres away from here.“
“Ooh!” Ram exclaimed.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Two things. The first thing is that this place was inhabited by Greeks and Persians and I am happy about it. It shows that the premise of coming here was correct, the centre of the Greek, Roman and Persian empires. Secondly, the church which I showed you was a Greek church, probably orthodox!”
“Nice.” I marvelled at his ability to connect history and mythology just as he got intrigued every time I spoke about mathematics or physics.
I turned my face away from him and took in my surroundings. We were in a small vestibule, completely cut through the stone. There were three doorways which were cut though the rocks and there were also two holes in the ground. They were sealed by an iron grill but looked creepy nonetheless.
“These holes are ventilation shafts so that the people living even 80 metres underground can breathe properly,” said the guide, pointing at the holes.
The entire place was lit by halogen bulbs and illuminated only selected regions.
“This whole place is nothing less than a maze. So, I would advise all of you beforehand to keep following me and not go sauntering into some corridor or passage. You would not be able to find your way back,” he said sternly and from his voice, it was clear he wasn’t joking. It made
me feel much more insecure to be unaware of what lay in the shadows deep within.
“This place is a city of death, Ram,” I told him in hushed voices. “How are we going to find what we are looking for? Even if we find it how would we know what it is?“
“I don’t know for sure but I know we will be able to. Don’t worry,” he replied but I could sense worry in his voice too. “For now, follow the guide.“
The guide led us through the labyrinthine passageways which looked like the Necropolis beneath the Vatican City. We walked through the corridors carved into the stone. Archways greeted us into each of these corridors. After walking a short length, we entered a tight passage which led us to another room, all carved out of stone. The entire place was featureless but seemed like another world altogether.
“The Derinkuyu underground city has a depth of 85 meters with eight levels in total. The city could have sheltered thousands of people from war and plunders.” The man stopped and pointed at a hole at the base of a wall. The hole had been sealed with metal bars but the darkness inside veiled the other opening.
“It is believed that in 1963, a man in Nevsehir knocked down a wall in his home and discovered a secret room. The person continued excavating and found a complex system of tunnels and rugged, cave like rooms. He had discovered the ancient city of Derinkuyu which is a part of the Cappadocia region in central Anatolia, Turkey! This is one of many portals found around the city. They are actually tunnels that lead to other underground cities and secret locations. They have been sealed for security reasons.” The guide started walking again and so did the crowd.
“A lot about this city isn’t known. It could have been made during the pre-Byzantine era, which is before 330 CE. During the Byzantine era, this area grew and was called Malakopea. The most believed theory is that the city was constructed during the time of the Phrygians, 8th century BC to 7th Century BC.”
As we entered a larger passage, the man pointed his prominent chin at a number of holes on the ground. “These are ventilation shafts for air and to bring food from outside.”
“Do you think this city could have been made even before the Phrygians?” a tourist asked.
“Perhaps... In fact, in ancient Persian Zoroastrian legends, Ahura Mazda, the highest spirit in Persian myth, instructed Yima to build an underground refuge very similar to Derinkuyu.”
“Ahura sounds like Asurian, no?” Ram whispered to me in my ear. I was reminded of our meeting with Baldr, the Himalayas, where he had explained this to us. “So this city could have been made by them only.” Ram’s eyes widened.
As all of us descended rapidly, into the depths of the Anatolian plateau, a curious tourist asked the guide.
“I do not really feel a great difference of temperature between the upper layers and the deeper layers like the one where we are now.”
“That is because these subterranean voids maintain a constant temperature. Therefore, the contents stay protected from the harsher surface temperatures.”
When we reached the lowermost level of the city, I asked the guide, “Are we on the eighth level right now?”
“Yes we are. This is the last layer. We will be going up from here onwards.”
“There is no ninth layer. Am I correct?” I asked him.
“No. Beneath this level is underground water. The people used to get some water from the wells that lead down into the subterranean space,” he answered.
All of us now walked in the largest room we had come across in the underground city. Some rocky pillars extended form the roof to the floor and the space was probably used as a hall. As we went past an archway, I noticed that the entrance was blocked by bricks and mortar. However, my breathing accelerated on seeing what was imprinted at the base of the wall. It was the same sign in the piece of text that we found on the Japanese mirror.
We had found the entrance to the level below.
Kapittel 39
Elsewhere
Kyoto, Japan
March 14, 2017, Tuesday, 1930 hours JST
General Kiyoshi, the old man whom Hamasaki had met in Kyoto, was walking down the long corridors of the secluded citadel at the edge of the cliff. His gait was slow but everybody around was making way for him. He was the leader of the place, and in Japan, people have unquestioned loyalty for the leader.
He reached a part of the citadel where there was a large lab complex, protected with totally secure doors, bars and Plexiglas sheets. The access was controlled by his iris scan and voice print, and as he muttered the password, the main door swung open. Inside the complex, there was a set of equipment which rivalled any hi-tech movie.
Seated at a corner was a very young Japanese scientist in coveralls, who was helping out a very old and tired North European looking large man in attaching a contraption to a laser gun. Curiously, the European man had a bracelet which glowed every few seconds. On seeing the old man come in, the young scientist stood up and bowed.
“Ohio Kuzaimas, Kiyoshi-san,” he greeted the older man. Obviously the old man was their supreme leader.
“Ohio Kuzaimas, Hikaru,” the old man responded. “Is everything ok?“
“Yes, sir. The proxima transponder is working well, and we are trying to see if we can amplify the power through usage of a laser device.”
The old man went towards the sealed area of the room and peered into it. Inside it looked like a lid covering an oversized bathtub with perfectly fitted edges. The extra strong seals all round were obviously guarding something extremely valuable. The leader paused and looked into it for a long time, as if that contained the very elixir of life. Finally he turned, and asked to see the progress made.
The young scientist and the old North European technician pushed things around and brought out a host of equipment. As they attached the items together to form a curious looking conduit, there were three sets of piping made of transparent carbon fibre which stretched in different directions. The bottom one was then attached to a box which had a grain like substance which looked like white sand. The top one remained free in the air, while the other outlet at the side was attached to a curious looking item. This looked like an old artefact, with carved designs at the sides, and looked like it was made of gold or some gold like alloy. The whole thing was powered on and attached to the main machinery in the room which was literally massive and one could only see one end of it.
The technician moved things around to align them with a lot of precision, and then switched the power to the ‘on’ position. Immediately the entire room began to vibrate, with the grains moving around in the box and the laser flashed in it intermittently. The artefact was vibrating in a staccato fashion, in a rhythm of its own, and the grains which were being sucked into it seemed to be disintegrating. The third open pipe was pointing towards a large meter of some sort which was going off the charts. The entire room was pulsating now, and the old man held his arm up to signal to the young scientist to switch it off.
“So it is working!”
“Yes, sir,” the young scientist was beaming. “My uncle was right in his analysis. The cosmic rays do produce the right vibration to start the reaction but microwaves actually speed up the process. The power we can produce through this is enough for our country for centuries to come. We have almost solved the global power problem!“
“Not so fast, Hikaru. We will be the judge of that”
“You are right Kiyoshi-san,” said the scientist, his head bowed. “Forgive my enthusiasm.“
The old man approached the technician. He looked up with a weary look, as if supremely disinterested in all this. His eyes were ringed with red tinges, as if he had not had any rest. His silvery white hair rivalled the old Japanese man’s and he was a foot taller. But at this time he looked captive, and totally submissive. He said nothing.
The old man peered at him and just made one comment. “Remember Kusanagi.”
The technician stared at him wearily and still did not say a word.
Then he went to look at the
artefact, and for a long time admired the carvings at the sides. They looked like celtic carvings, but to the knowledgeable it was evident that these were the otherworldly carvings specially designed to capture the spatial microwave radiation which had the power of transforming a mere earthly element into great energy. Before he left the chamber he glanced at the artefact one more time. It had taken a great deal of effort for his men to locate and bring this last missing item earlier in the year to him to complete the circuit of this mission.
The mysterious Chiemsee cauldron was no longer a mere museum piece — it was a part of a grand machine which held the secret of all consuming power, a power he knew exactly how to wield.
Kapittel 40
Mathias’s story
DERINKUYU YERALTI SEHRI
March 14, 2017, Tuesday, 1330 hours EEST
“Why is that archway blocked?” I asked the guide. Vivek and Ram were also beside me after spotting the Nordic rune over there.
“Well, the tunnel beyond that is extremely old and dangerous. It doesn’t lead to anywhere except a body of water. So it was sealed with some loose bricks and mortar about thirty years ago after some explorers had died due to unknown reasons.”
“Some loose bricks and mortar, you say?” Vivek inquired and the man nodded, unable to understand why we were so interested in that archway.
The three of us melted back into the crowd before Vivek whispered to us, “We are going to stay back after the crowd is gone. If the wall is sealed using some loose bricks and mortar, I think we should be able to break some bricks.” Ram and I agreed. I was feeling very anxious about this. Maybe it was because we were about a 100 meters underground and if we needed help, we couldn’t find any. If we got lost, we wouldn’t be able to get out of his labyrinth and if we discovered something dangerous on the other side of the wall, no one would know about our disappearance.
The three of us carefully slipped into a niche in a wall and waited there till everyone had gone away from the large hall. Once we were left alone, the three of us slipped out of our recesses and stood in front of the wall.