They kept descending and finally reached the bottom of the lake. The walls were as smooth as higher up but they seemed to be stronger. There were fewer and smaller cracks. They figured that there had to be an entrance at his lower level, so they decided to go all the way around to check.
After going a quarter of the way around the tower they found a monumental double-door built of massive stones. Around ten feet high by ten feet wide, it had no ornate decorations but was sculpted in austere motifs that represented huge hieratic statues in relief with inscriptions identical to those discovered in Mexico.
They looked at the lake bottom in front of the door and saw traces of what must have been a road long, long ago. The same width as the door, a flat surface covered with algae formed a long ribbon that wound away into the darkness. Pir and Bob gave each other knowing looks and decided to follow the road that might lead to other remains. On each side, every fifteen feet, stood time-ruined statues whose exact forms were no longer traceable. They turned the spotlight along the road and saw all kinds of ruins. The tower, apparently, had once been surrounded by a city but the material used to build it was of lesser quality and the constructions did not stand the test of time. Under the thick layer of algae they saw only a few mounds that they imagined were houses. The city architecture was built along a geometric, circular plan. Roads started at the tower like rays and were connected by concentric streets, parallel to the tower that was the heart of a complex, well-designed system.
After exploring around the tower for fifteen minutes, the two brothers, having seen what there was to see, decided to go back up without delay so that their companions would not worry. The ascent was easy until at around fifteen feet from the surface they saw two crocodiles rushing toward them. The reptiles were smaller than the previous one but they were coming from different directions and using the electric spur might prove tricky. However, when preparing for the expedition, Pir and Bob had envisaged such a possibility. They turned the veloscaphe so their backs were to the tower. Then they swung it around fast and skillfully just as they had practiced so often in a Swiss lake to make it turn in every direction.
Thanks to this maneuver the two crocodiles, when they were in range, were right before the spur. Thus, when the first was hit, since they were touching each other, they were both struck by the electric arc and were wiped out in a split second.
After this brief encounter the two young men resurfaced without any other nuisance. The main entrance to the tower had been found but the hardest part lay ahead: nothing less than to actually enter the building whose massive doors would be nearly impossible to get through and they were one hundred thirty feet down!
Their companions, who were waiting above, ran to the hoist when they saw them appear. When the two brothers had slung the ropes around the veloscaphe, they were pulled out of the water and set down on the dry terrace of the tower.
They were barely out of the bicycle when Pierre, Hubert and Professor Noque ran over to know what they had discovered. The twins told them everything and looked especially proud that thanks to their care and attention but also to the exceptional power of their invention they had fended off the crocodiles quite efficiently. Hubert wound up the discussion saying:
“Next time it won’t be so easy. We were hoping to find an open underwater access but apparently that’s not the case. We’re going to have to break down a colossal door one hundred thirty feet underwater. Moreover, the inside might not be filled with water down there. But if we open the door the lake could flood in and cause all kinds of damage to the remains that might have withstood time and be intact. I don’t know how we should proceed. To get down there is easy enough and we can attack the door with the excavation tools that we brought with us. But how to do it underwater without too many problems and above all without flooding the tower and destroying everything inside, that I really can’t imagine… Can you?”
The O’Connell brothers and Pierre looked at each other, visibly discouraged. They had no solution to overcome the various obstacles that Pibriac was enumerating. But the professor cracked a smile. His companions saw this and stared at him expectantly.
“Well, yes, my friends, I might just have the solution to our dilemma. In fact, I think it’s there.” He pointed at the big crate that he had loaded in Paris and whose contents were still a mystery. “Come and help me open it.”
Hubert and Pierre used the crowbar and quickly had the crate open. Inside were several metal pieces of different sizes, carefully packed. With the help of his companions the professor started to put the thing together. It was fairly simple to assemble and in less than an hour the machine was ready.
It was a metal chamber, a kind of big cube, fifteen feet square, and on one face was a door surrounded by a frame made of flexible material that could fit onto different shaped structures. On the other side were two doors inside each other making a small airlock. The professor explained:
“The principle is as follows: the cube has to be put at the bottom of the lake in front of the door. The flexible frame can fit over the door and make it airtight, the airlock will let us get into the cube and work like in a diving bell. Keep in mind that water can be drained from the cube through a valve system. Therefore, we can stay dry while working on opening a passage inside the tower, hoping, of course, that it’s in suitable condition.”
Hubert, who was smiling at him, turned suddenly grim:
“But we’ll have to be very careful and keep a watch over our camp while we’re working under the lake. Let’s not forget the weird thing Pierre saw this morning. One of us should always be on guard up here.”
“No problem,” the professor said. “Anyway, setting up the machine and working on the bottom of the lake to force the stone door open isn’t going to be a picnic so we should work in shifts. We’ll also have to watch out for crocodiles trying to attack us, even if we have the means to protect ourselves. OK, let’s get on it. We’d better start right away. We’ll take the cube apart and help Pir and Bob bring it to the bottom of the lake.
CHAPTER XII
Code Joan of Arc
The Nyctalope was satisfied. Three hours earlier he was desperate to leave Spain as soon as possible but early in the morning he got good news.
The Hashishin did not have time to sabotage the radio equipment in the Zig. The Nyctalope sat in the cockpit and tried to contact various people to get some help.
At 7:30 a.m., he was able to reach Rue Montbrun in Paris and talk to Michel Dorlange. The connection was very bad and the conversation kept cutting out but this did not prevent him from explaining the situation and asking for what he needed. Dorlange would contact the different CID offices in Europe to see what was the fastest way to get the spare parts for the plane and especially a new engine.
Around 9:30 a.m., the Nyctalope learned that the same kind of plane as the Zig was available at the Marseille airport. The CID could get it for a price but a pilot still had to be found to fly it to Madrid.
Around the same time he managed to contact Petro d’Arendar, his closest Spanish friend, who was very surprised to learn that he was in Madrid. Petro was even more surprised to hear that their old enemy Maur Korridès, whom everyone believed was dead, had reappeared.
A few years before Saint-Clair had helped the duke in a delicate matter in which the honor of the Arendars was at stake. They had become good friends and the duke had given the Nyctalope a helping hand on several occasions when he was operating on Spanish soil. The last time they had worked together was when they had confronted the famous Korridès who was reappearing today. Of course, the duke assured Léo that he would do whatever he could to help. He would contact some mechanics in Madrid whom he knew and who could probably help the Nyctalope when the spare parts arrived.
After spending long hours in front of the radio, Saint-Clair left the hangar to get a little fresh air. He walked along the runways and headed for the control tower. After a quick talk with the director there, he got authorization to use
the wireless and send a coded message to the CID office in Marseille, Lyon, Lille and Bordeaux. With this task done he went back to his plane and waited for responses to the messages he had sent.
Around 10 a.m., Dorlange called Saint-Clair to tell him that he had found a pilot. The plane had just left Marseille and would land in Madrid around 1 p.m. Once again the CID had demonstrated its efficiency. The Nyctalope took the opportunity to ask how things were going on Rue Montbrun. Dorlange reassured him. Everything was fine and given the deployment of force, he did not see how the enemy could touch them. Saint-Clair advised extreme caution and reminded him that the Engineer was one of the most innovative geniuses of the 20th century and, more than once in the past, had proved his ability to surprise his enemies and rise to the wildest challenges. Especially since at this stage they had no idea where he was.
Just then Dorlange remembered that he had forgotten to give the Nyctalope some important information. After their last meeting at Blingy, he had launched an investigation into the “severed hand affair” at the Jardin des Plantes. Only minutes ago he had received disturbing news. The police had also started investigating, got fingerprints from the hand and its “owner” was identified: it was Jacques Dubosque, a CID agent who had disappeared days before along with his partner Stéphane Dampierre. The macabre discovery might be a useful clue that he could still not piece it together.
The Nyctalope made no comment, but it was clear that this news had struck a chord because during the rest of the conversation he sounded distracted and evasive. While Dorlange was talking, Saint-Clair was thinking. His face hardened as if he was starting to glimpse the solution to their problem and was getting ready to go into action.
At noon, the mechanics from the duke arrived and waited together for the plane from Marseille, which landed at 1:15 p.m. They immediately took out the engine. Saint-Clair preferred to transfer the parts from the newly arrived plane into the Zig because his plane had the telecommunication system and was equipped with two machine guns that might come in very handy in the present situation.
Around 5:15 p.m. the plane was operational. Before taking off the Nyctalope still had one more order to give. He contacted Dorlange and said:
“In less than an hour I’ll leave Madrid with the Zig. Tell Vitto and Soca to do as planned with the special car and our friend. Code Joan of Arc. I repeat, Code Joan of Arc. I’ll be in Villacoublay around 3 a.m. See you soon.”
He went to the control tower to inform them of his imminent departure and used the wireless to recontact the CID office that he had called in the morning. He received a series of coded messages that he deciphered immediately. When he looked up, despite the critical situation he was facing, he looked completely satisfied. Things were moving forward.
At 6 p.m. on the dot, after filling up with fuel and checking over the whole plane, he flew off for Paris. At the commands of the plane he was concentrating on what lay ahead. He knew that the final phase of that battle against Korridès was starting, but his enemy seemed so determined and so well organized that Saint-Clair was not sure who would come out on top.
CHAPTER XIII
The Turbaned Man Strikes
At the same time, the afternoon was dying out in the land of Nod. Everything was calm. No wave disturbed the lake. At the top of the tower Bob was taking his first turn on watch. He was pacing around, watching the sandy shore that bordered the jungle. Nothing seemed to be threatening the tranquil evening. From time to time some animals, antelopes, warthogs or groups of little monkeys came to drink from the lake. Their peaceful activities were sometimes interrupted by predators who crept out of the trees. Bob discovered that the jungle was inhabited by cheetahs. He thought he even saw some lions prowling around the edge of the forest.
In fact, the most important activity was taking place one hundred thirty feet below the dark waters of the lake.
The explorers had not stopped working all afternoon. They had assembled the metal cube so it would be dry when they tried to open the monumental door. The system of valves worked perfectly and they now had a waterproof chamber in which the air was chemically recycled with pressurized oxygen.
Hubert and Pir had started attacking the door with the excavation tools. But the stone was hard, the work was slow and tiring and so they set up teams to work in shifts. Now it was the turn of Pierre and Professor Noque to take over. In the meantime, Hubert and Pir were outside the cube in their diving suits, doing their best to memorize the inscriptions engraved in the doorframe so they could write them down inside the airlock. Professor Noque would translate them later. This headwork relied on the physical work they had done earlier. Two bright spots had been set up fifteen feet behind the cube to light up the door.
Hubert went to the airlock to draw a part of the bas-relief from memory. Pir, who was next to him, turned around and saw a strange metal object coming into the zone lit by the spotlights.
It resembled a crate standing on end with a kind of point at the top, which made it look like a big ammunition shell. The base of the object was flat and fitted with wheels so it could move. The upper part had two metallic, jointed arms ending in pincers to grab things. The mechanism that worked its arms must have been very strong and the pincers could also be used for a terribly destructive purpose. In the upper part of this strange submersible, a kind of super diving suit, a thick window showed the head of the man controlling it. He looked Indian both because of his olive tainted skin and the fact that he was wearing a turban. This was a most surprising accessory for an underwater explorer!
Pir signaled to Hubert to alert him since he was busy with the airlock. When Hubert turned around the diver was right next to him. He leaned over trying to get a good look at the pilot. But he quickly realized that the claws of the machine were trying to grab him and he barely had time to step back out of reach. The wheels on the machine shot it forward and Hubert could not get far enough away. He could only avoid it by stepping to the side every time the pincers reached out. The man with the turban seemed surprised by his resistance.
In the meantime Pir got to the veloscaphe and sat in the back. Unfortunately the underwater bicycle was a tandem and needed two people to drive it comfortably. Hubert, who was fully concentrated on dodging the lethal blows of the machine, could obviously not join him. After a great deal of effort Pir managed to point the veloscaphe at the super-diver. He waved desperately to Hubert to move away, hoping that he could launch the bike and hit the enemy with the electric spur.
Hubert, unlike the enemy who kept up his attack, was showing signs of fatigue. The weight of the lead-ballasted diving suit made it hard to move. If it were not for his incredible strength, he would have collapsed, totally exhausted, long ago.
He had just managed to sidestep one more blow when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Pir waving to him. He understood immediately. With a revival of hope came a surge of energy. By moving directly backwards he was headed straight for the veloscaphe. He had almost got the two machines face-to-face but he was hit hard by one of the arms. Fatigue had slowed down his movements and the super-diver got him.
Even with the water’s resistance he was hit terribly hard in the arm and pain shot through his entire body. He was thrown a few yards away and his arm, lying at a weird angle, became completely numb. The bone was broken. With blurry vision and his mind dazed by the pain, Hubert was left powerless. He struggled to his feet thanks to his lead shoes and tired desperately not to pass out, which he felt he was about to do.
The super-diver was coming to finish him off. But Hubert’s backpedaling had put the machine in reach of the veloscaphe. Pir gave a hard kick to the pedal to push it forward, knowing that he would have only one chance to hit his target. He fired an electric charge strong enough to down an elephant and it hit the enemy on the left side, just under his arm. A bright flash filled the suit and it stopped moving immediately. Then the lights went out.
Pir, in a panic, saw the super-diving suit start moving again. The designers o
f the machine had obviously foreseen the possibility of an electric attack and equipped it with an insulation system. It was absolutely unbelievable!
The veloscaphe was brought to a stop when it ran into the super-diver. Even though he was alone inside, Pir did not have enough room to wriggle free in time. The machine had turned and was coming at him, claws forward. Pir was out of reach, protected by the hood, which was much longer than the jointed arms, but this did not stop the turbaned man for long. One of the claws grabbed the spur and snapped it off. Then he pointed both arms at the veloscaphe’s frame and started tearing it apart. Fragments of metal went swimming away into the depths and drifting slowly to the floor of the lake. Pir wanted to get out of the veloscaphe to escape the enemy but his diving suit was caught on one of the duralumin rods and he could not get free. The claw was only inches away from his copper helmet now.
He aimed the bright spotlight at the helmet of the super-diving suit to blind the enemy and gain a little time. The inventor of the suit must have been a victim of an electrical attack in the past and compensated for this weakness in his machine, but he had done nothing to protect against a bright light shining straight into the eyes of the pilot. The turbaned man was, therefore, blinded and could only strike haphazardly while waiting for his sight to return to normal.
Pir took advantage of the delay to shake himself free and get out of the veloscaphe without damage. But just as he was about to escape the enemy, he was hit on the side with a wild blow from one of the pincers. He was not hit with a sharp edge but the violence of it sent him sailing off and he hit his head on the tower wall. The copper helmet was strong enough not to break but Pir lost consciousness as a result.
The man with the turban, on the other hand, got his visibility back. He saw that the bottom of the lake was calm now. Before him were the remains of the veloscaphe and a little farther the motionless body of Pir. He turned around to look for Hubert. At first he saw nothing but looking more carefully he made out the lead boots and chest plate of the diving suit lying on the ground. Pibriac must have taken them off to swim back to the surface. The Indian was probably thinking that he could settle accounts with him later because he turned back around and started straight for the cube.
The Nyctalope and The Tower of Babel Page 26