by Tom Hunter
The Eternal Chamber: An Archaeological Thriller
The Relics of the Deathless Souls, Book 1
Tom Hunter
Copyright © 2018 by Tom Hunter
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
One
The incessant thunder of the helicopter’s blades made it difficult for Samuel McCarthy to focus; the relentless pounding causing him to lose his train of thought yet again. He forced himself to tune out the repetitive thumping as he examined the dry, dusty map in his hand, comparing it to the satellite image of the region on his lap.
“Have you figured it out yet?” the voice of the stocky pilot, Josh Bradley, crackled through the headsets they all wore.
The sandy-haired archaeologist in the rear of the helicopter frowned, causing the lines on his forehead to deepen, as he closely examined the two documents he was holding. Clinging onto the overhead handle for support, he leaned out of the open door, looking for confirmation that the parched desert below matched the map.
“All the signs suggest that my comparison should be correct this time. If I’m right, whatever secret this map is hiding, it should be just beneath us.”
“If,” Josh snorted. “You said that the last time. Might I remind you that we’ve been flying around this sector for twenty minutes now and we’ve only got the one back-up fuel tank. We’re getting dangerously close to the point of no turning back, and I’d really rather not be stranded out in the middle of nowhere because you’ve got your north and south confused again.”
“Hey!” protested Samuel. “I only did that the once and in my defense, I was more than a little hungover at the time thanks to a certain pilot deciding that he needed to drown his sorrows the night before.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Josh shook his head. “A bad archaeologist always blames his team.”
The olive-skinned Nafty, the third passenger in the helicopter, listened in silent bemusement as the two old friends exchanged quips. Such unprofessionalism would not be tolerated if he were in charge of this mission. You only had to look at McCarthy to see that the man clearly didn’t care about standards. Was it really too much to ask that someone shave before coming to work?
“You’re going to need to tell me where to set down soon or I’ll have no choice but to turn back,” Josh warned.
“I know, I know.” Samuel ran his hand through his sandy hair in exasperation. “Just give me a minute, okay? I’m close to pinning it down.”
He opened his notebook, skimming through his notes. Flicking through the pages, he quickly scanned through insights that had hit him as he translated the comments written on the map in faded ink. It would have been helpful if the person making the notes had written them in English in a more permanent pen, but when was archaeology ever that easy?
A few geographical landmarks had been annotated, which Samuel had initially hoped would make it easy to identify them. Unfortunately, it turned out that the region was nothing but the same landscape repeated over and over, so he’d had to refer back to the ‘days traveled’ noted on the map, and dotted lines not drawn to scale, to dead reckon the distance to their objective.
Comparing his notes to the map, he wished that he could figure out what the ancient explorer had meant when they wrote ‘Confirm that I am not dead before the door and be welcomed into the chamber beyond.’ He hadn’t told Josh about that comment, knowing the kind of reaction it would provoke. For some reason, the pilot had issues about any suggestion that they might die in their quest for relics.
“We should be right on top of the cave now,” he announced. “Give or take a quarter mile.”
“Give or take?” echoed Josh. “A quarter mile is still quite the circumference. This is hopeless. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack here.”
“I know, but I’m positive we’re in the right ballpark now,” Samuel told him. “The limestone, rain, and river survey I got from the Ministry would suggest that this is roughly where a cave would develop if one were to form in this area.”
“Suggest? Why can’t you ever be more specific?” Josh sighed, turning the helicopter to go for another sweep over the area. “You’re going to need to figure this out, stat, or this will be yet another wasted trip.”
“Do you need any help looking over the map?” Nafty broke his silence to offer his support. “I might not have your level of archaeological expertise, but I’ve done my fair share of map reading and I do know this region better than either of you. What’s the point in bringing me along as your guide if you won’t let me guide you?” He undid his seatbelt to come over to Samuel’s side, trying to get a closer look at the map.
“Don’t worry,” Samuel assured him. “You’ll get your chance to be helpful when we hit the ground. But I was incredibly lucky to get hold of this map. It’s an irreplaceable ancient artifact. I can’t hand it over to just anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone,” Nafty pointed out. “Come on. Let me have a look. A second pair of eyes might spot something new. I could find that missing piece of the puzzle and save us all a lot of work.”
“No offence, Nafty, but this is the original document and as the chief of the excavation, I have a professional duty to keep it safe. Maybe I’m being over protective… Imagine if you lost your grip and it fell out of the ‘helicopter? It might be lost forever, along with all its secrets. No, this map stays in my possession. If we don’t find the cave on this final sweep, maybe I’ll be able to make you a simplified copy back at camp, but that’s the best I can do.”
Nafty opened his mouth to protest, but the firm set of Samuel’s jaw told him that he’d be wasting his time, so he decided against pushing it.
“All right, guys.” Josh interrupted their discussion. “Since we still haven’t found what we’re looking for, I’m going to turn us around rather than risk going into our extra fuel reserves. I’ve still got to get us back to a refueling station and while I appreciate your enthusiasm, Samuel, you’re not the only one with a professional duty here. It’s my job to keep you both safe, so I’m making a judgment call to take us back in.”
“Why don’t you just land?” Samuel suggested. “I’d like to look things over on foot and it’ll give Nafty a chance to show off his skills.”
“All right. It’s your funeral,” shrugged Josh, looking around for a suitable site to touch down. Spotting a clearing, he began to lower the chopper.
“Now we just have to hope that the Bruard haven’t gotten there before us,” muttered Samuel. “Knowing my luck, we’ll be in the right place, but they’ll have already got their filthy mitts on it and another precious artifact will be lost forever.”
Nafty’s eye twitched, his hand clenching into a fist at the mention of the brutal regime that had attempted to conquer the entirety of Europe in the middle of the 21st century. Although they’d been fought back, it was only a matter of time before they attempted world domination again.
“Is something wrong?” Samuel asked.
“You should not say that name,” warned Nafty. “Even mentioning that organization is a bad omen. It is said in my culture that to name someone is to attract their attention to you. You don’t want their attention upon you, do you?”
Samuel sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. The longer we can keep this secret, the better. I’d hate for the Br- for them to steal something that belongs to the world. We need to recover whatever it is this map is concealing and get it safely to a museum, so historians the world over can study it for the benefit of everyone. Knowledge should never be confined
to a select, privileged few.”
“We’re just coming into land now,” Josh announced. “I’d like to thank you all for traveling with Josh Bradley airlines and- WOAH!”
The helicopter suddenly jerked to the side as Josh yanked the control stick to the right to narrowly avoid a rock face that had abruptly appeared out of nowhere. As the helicopter lurched away from the stone, the rotor blades missed the rock by inches, and the sudden movement sent Nafty tumbling out of his seat and out of the open door.
“Help!” he screamed, as Samuel threw off his seatbelt to dive after him. Their fingers brushed against each other, the contact coming just too late, as Samuel braced himself against the doorframe, making one final desperate lunge to save his colleague. Somehow, he managed to grab hold of Nafty’s hand.
“Climb back up!” Samuel urged. “I’ve got you.”
Nafty kicked his legs, desperately trying to get enough momentum to pull himself into the helicopter, but despite his best efforts, his other hand flailed about uselessly, unable to find anything within reach.
Samuel’s eyes widened in shock and fear as he felt Nafty slowly but surely slip out of his grasp.
Two
A single, bare lightbulb slowly swung from side to side, suspended from the ceiling by a cable. Its glaring brilliance illuminated the small room, exposing the run down space for the slum that it was, as shadows rolled like waves with the movement of the light. The sound of a television in a nearby room filtered through the walls, an inane infomercial extolling the virtues of the latest must-have fitness accessory to anyone who would listen.
There was little furniture, the walls bare and unadorned apart from a board hanging next to the door with an impressive array of tools mounted on it. In stark contrast to the peeling paper and poorly maintained room, the tools were brand new, gleaming with the promise of a job well done.
The only other visible item was a chair nailed to the floor in the middle of the room, an unconscious man firmly lashed down to it. His head hanging low, he started to blink his eyes, slowly coming around. Moaning, the first thing he was aware of was the throbbing headache that overwhelmed him.
As he attempted to lift his hand to brush his hair out of his face, the Egyptian realized for the first time that he was bound. Desperately trying to break free of the ropes restraining him, he thrashed his body around, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t even move the chair, much less slip out of the ropes.
Raising his head, he got his first glimpse of the room around him, his blood running cold when he spotted the tools hanging on the wall. Panic made him fight even harder against the ropes, every instinct in his body screaming at him to get as far away as he could, but all he succeeded in doing was scrape away the skin where he was tied down.
“Help! Somebody! Anybody!” The gag around his mouth muffled his shouts. Nevertheless, despite the noise of the television, it appeared that someone heard him. The sound shut off abruptly, giving way to footsteps getting louder as an unseen person made their way towards the prisoner.
The man held his breath as if his silence would render him invisible, regretting calling out. Whoever was coming, they were probably not there to set him free.
He racked his brains, trying to figure out how he had ended up in this place. All he could remember was leaving work and heading towards his car. Then… nothing. The way his head was throbbing, all he could assume was that someone had hit him from behind to knock him out and kidnap him, but why? What on earth could anyone want with him?
The door in front of him opened, and the light from the corridor was blocked by the giant outline of the man who walked through, stooping to avoid knocking his head against the doorframe. His custom-tailored shirt defined his muscular physique.
Holding the door for the man following him, he stood to attention as his boss strode in. Although he was half the size of his henchman, there was a whiff of evil from the small, bald man that told the captive that this man was the one he should be afraid of. Sharply dressed, he wore a dark navy tailored suit that fit his body perfectly, coordinating his polka dotted white handkerchief with his perfectly knotted tie. Yet, his dark brown leather gloves were a strange affectation that jarred against the rest of his outfit.
Coming to a stop in front of the bound man, he leaned forward so that the two of them were almost touching noses. Instinctively, his captive held his breath, craning his neck to escape the intense scrutiny, but he was so tightly bound he could barely move. The only act of rebellion open to him was to close his eyes and pretend that he was anywhere but here.
Taking his time to examine every inch of his prisoner’s face, the suited man finally gave a tiny nod and stepped back. Gesturing to his henchman that he should give their prisoner a little freedom, the gorilla stepped forward and pulled the gag away.
“Let me introduce myself. My name is Pin Nam-Gi and this fine gentleman is Gord,” the small man began, before his captive could get a word out. His voice was cultured, suggesting a high level of education or years spent socializing with aristocrats. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me? No? No matter. By the time I’ve finished with you, my name will be permanently emblazoned on your memory. I take it you are Haisam, Director of the Ministry of State for Antiquities?”
Haisam opened his mouth to lie, but Pin tutted and shook his head.
“Don’t say anything. It was a rhetorical question,” Pin said. “I already know exactly who you are, but I do so like to observe all the formalities. Just because we have some unpleasant business to attend to doesn’t mean that we have to act like savages, does it? I like to put my business acquaintances at ease while we deal with the matter at hand.”
“What do you want with me?” Haisam demanded. “Why am I tied up like this? If you know who I am, you know that if anything happens to me, you’ll have the Egyptian government to deal with. Set me free immediately!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible, much as I will give your warning the respect it merits.” Pin projected genuine remorse, but the twinkle in his eye ruined the effect. “And let me make one thing quite clear. I am the one who asks the questions here. Your job is to answer them honestly and completely. If we stick to our roles, this will be so much better for both of us.”
“Ask as many questions as you like. I’m not telling you anything,” Haisam spat.
“Oh, I think you will,” Pin smirked. “In fact, I can guarantee that by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging for permission to tell me your entire life story.”
Haisam cast an anxious glance at the tools hanging on the wall. “Do your worst,” he said bravely, doing his best to keep the tremor from his voice.
“Oh, I will,” Pin assured him. “You see, I’m one of those lucky individuals who happens to love his work. When I’m tasked with retrieving information, I leave no stone unturned in uncovering all the little details. I’m the best in the business. And business is good.”
Haisam blinked several times.
Pin started to pace up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back as he took slow, measured steps, looking as relaxed as if he were going for a walk in the park instead of preparing to torture someone.
“You see, it has come to my attention that a recent expedition carried out under the auspices of the Ministry has come into possession of a unique map. Although so far the secrets of the map remain elusive, if it is what I believe it to be, this map would provide the missing elements to some research that my employers have been doing, and answer a few questions that have been puzzling us for quite some time. Of course, there’s always the chance that this is another dead end, but something tells me that this map will prove to be a useful lead. If it is, there’s no way that I can risk letting it fall into the wrong hands. That being the case, I have decided that Director Haisam Ganem needs to personally oversee the further investigations to control the flow of information. Details of this map need to be kept on a strictly need-to-know basis and you will ensu
re that the map stays with those who will appreciate it for what it is.”
“You’re mad if you think that I’m going to do anything to help you,” Haisam sneered.
“Oh, I’m sorry. There must be some confusion. Did you think that I was actually going to send you along?” Pin reached into a pocket inside his blazer, pulling out a small, cylindrical device. His bodyguard chuckled as Pin started tapping at buttons on the machine.
“Do you know what this is?” Pin asked, not waiting for a reply. “It’s a holographic emitter. Maybe you’ve heard rumors of their existence? They’re still very experimental and not available on the open market, but for those with the right connections, they are remarkably useful. You see, I could undergo plastic surgery to recreate your features. There are even some very talented makeup artists around who could do an exceptional job of making me appear to look like you, but, as I’m sure you’ll agree, both of those methods are flawed and carry a high risk of failure. I refuse to leave anything to chance. That’s why the talented Bruard scientists developed something to allow me to take on your precise appearance with absolutely no chance of revealing my true identity.”
“The Bruard?” gasped Haisam, the full enormity of what he was facing finally hitting him.
“Who else?” smiled Pin. “Now, Gord here has already scanned your body while you were unconscious, so the physical part of the process has already been done. However, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, there’s more involved in impersonating a Director of the Ministry than mere looks. The slightest quirk can raise suspicions if I’m not behaving exactly like you in every way. In the past, I would have been forced to observe you over a few weeks, build up a profile of your behavior to try and pre-empt any potential situation, but if I were to attempt to do that now, it would take time I don’t have and even then, there’s no guarantee that I’d learn everything I needed about you to keep my story straight. Fortunately for me, those same Bruard scientists have also developed a feature to this device that will hypnotize you, placing you into numerous different scenarios so that I can create a complete psych-profile.