Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3) (11 page)

Edward
Worthington looked around the ancient Atlantean vault, where their history had
been recorded over the millennia. Several tunnels lined the passageways. The
biggest room of them all had walls and walls of ancient writings, followed by
circles of information on the ceiling, which he recognized as being the same
pictographic text he’d seen in Atlantis.

At the end of the
room were three fully decomposed bodies, the remnants of Himmler’s last expedition.
The man who’d started the Nazi SShad pursued his crazy idea to find the
Atlantis people who shared the perfect Aryan bloodline.

The spear through
their heads made him wonder if he was not wrong to come with only Dr. Swan and
Mark, as his bodyguard.

Dr. Swan audibly
gasped when she saw it. Not the remains, but the glowing pile next to them. It
must have contained more than a thousand pieces of orichalcum – the ancient
gold and copper alloy the Atlanteans once mined.

“They had to
prepare themselves for the return of their city,” Edward said, noticing
Billie’s astonishment. “When it came, the Atlantean survivors knew they would
need gold to be in a position to make it great again, so they stockpiled what
remained here.”

“Yes. It must be
worth a fortune.”  

“Forget about the
gold. It’s worthless if we can’t find the solution to the code of Atlantis, in
the midst of these thousands of ancient notes. Without that code, the sphere
will be locked until it is too late. If we fail in our task, the gold will have
no meaning to any of us!”

“It could take
months to make sense of all of this.”

Edward raised his
voice. “We don’t have months. We have a little less than three weeks.”

He watched as
Billie’s shrewd mind explored the cavern.

“I’ve found it.”

“What is it?”

“The code, to
Atlantis, of course.”

“That’s wonderful
news!”

“Only it’s
missing half of it.”

“What do you
mean, its missing half of it?”

“I was worried
about this. In my earlier research, I found reference to two groups of
Atlantean survivors. One went east and set up camp high in these Tibetan mountains,
while the other went somewhere completely different, presumably west.”

“But to where?”
Edward asked.

“The two groups
must not have trusted each other not to steal the most valuable remnants of
Atlantis. So consequently, they broke the code into two parts and split them
between the two groups.”

“Fine. So what
now, we need to know where the other group are?”

“Yes.”

“Here it is. A
map to their other settlement.”

Edward studied
the rudimentary map. The depiction of the African continent wasn’t exact, but
nonetheless it was impossible to deny what he was seeing. He listened to her read
the description. Only a few people on the planet knew how to read the ancient
text. Dr. Swan, he noticed knew more about it than she’d revealed to him in
their previous discussion. It was obvious, that she was nearly fluent in the
ancient language.

He watched as
Billie took several pictures of the map on her tablet. 

“Can we destroy
the map now Dr. Swan?”

“I don’t see why.
You and I are the only two people to know of its existence.”

“And Mark, but I
pay him well enough to keep any secret. Even so, no reason to take chances.
Mark, bring a grenade in here. I want this destroyed.”

“Very good, sir.”

Edward watched as
she marked some notes on one of the blank circles. “So you really can
understand this?”

“I have an idea.
They’re similar to something I saw inside the Mayan pyramid beneath the ocean
in the Gulf of Mexico. I just wanted to test my theory.”

“And what does it
mean?”

“Well, if I’m
right…” Dr. Swan said while she ran her fingers along the groves of the
hieroglyphic, “then this is a map to the other group of descendants.”

“Other group of
descendants?”

“Yes. As this
building is testament to, not all died during the sinking of Atlantis. By the
looks of things, it was decided to split the two groups up and send them in
different directions to protect the knowledge of the future.”

Mark came back
into the tunnel from the opening. “It’s time to go. We have company.”

“Andrew Brandt or
Sam Reilly?” Edward asked, reaching for his binoculars.

“Sam Reilly. But
if he’s this far up the mountain, you can be sure that Andrew won’t be far
off.”

“How far away?”

“Less than a day’s
climb. He’ll be here by nightfall!” Mark replied.

“Okay, we’ll
leave soon.” Edward looked at Dr. Swan. “You want to go back for them, don’t
you?”

Dr. Swan smiled
at him. “They could help us.”

“You know that’s
not possible, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Andrew’s gaining
on us, Dr. Swan. And unless you like the concept of losing in this race, I
suggest we come up with a plan to throw them off our tail.”

She paused, a
piece of chalk in her hand.

And then wrote a
note followed by several numbers in the ancient text, before writing in plain
English: Love, From Billie.

Edward studied
the numbers.

They were written
in the ancient text he’d not fully mastered, but the numbers were clear enough.
There was something strangely familiar about them. They were GPS coordinates,
of course. But where? Then it hit him.

“Very good, Dr.
Swan. But don’t you think they’ll know that anything of any value was destroyed
there more than a hundred years ago by the American expedition?”

Above them, Sam
Reilly thought he heard the distant sound of thunder. A crude signal of an
avalanche, perhaps? Or worse, someone had beaten them to it. He looked above,
where the opening to the cave should have been, another 6000 feet above them.

“Avalanche?” Tom
asked.

“Maybe, but it
must have been a long way off. If it was above us, we’d have known about it by
now.”

“I almost thought
it sounded like the echo of a grenade.”

“Then they’ve
already beaten us to it?” The thought brought the urgency back into Sam’s mind.
“Come on. We’re close. Maybe there’s still time to save her.”

It was early the
next morning by the time they reached the opening to the Atlantean Archives. It
was built by two rocks overlapping. From the air or the ground, it appeared as
one only, but once you stood directly next to it, you could see that there was
an opening. It wasn’t very large – big enough for only one person to slip
through at a time.

Sam was the first
to enter the cave.

He squeezed his
broad shoulders through first, with his hands out in front of him, then
wriggled until the rest of his body followed. Once on the other side, he was
able to stand up in what appeared to be a large cavern. Dark as the deepest
sea, and for a moment he thought that it was nothing more than a naturally-formed
cave. A musky smell appeared to pervade the emptiness of the cavern. He struck
a large glow stick and threw it into the cavern.

The room lit up
with the bright glow of light.

“Tom, squeeze
your lanky self in here. You’re going to want to see this!”

His friend
shuffled into the room. “What have you found?” Tom stared up at the grand room
and then said, “Holy shit! It’s Atlantis!”

The walls were
massive, giving it the appearance of a football stadium more than a cavern,
except for the fact that the roof was quite low. So much so that Sam found
himself capable of easily running his hands along it as he walked. At least two
hundred circles could be seen covering the roof, and a maze of pictographs and
hieroglyphics inside them. The circles that formed the roof were carved from
ivory. The walls themselves were made of stone, but a multitude of sapphires
embedded in them glowed like stars under the glow stick’s reflection.

“What’s that
scent?” Sam asked, as he walked forward. “It’s fresh. Whatever caused it has
been here in recent weeks.”

“Musk. And its
Billie’s cheap deodorant she uses on her expeditions. We must have only just
missed her.”

They walked further
into the cavern.

At the far end of
the room the remains of four people appeared. They wore Nazis uniforms and the insignia
of the
Schutzstaffel
– the elite SS guard. Sam looked down at their remains.
“Who would have thought they were so close to
finding Atlantis?”

“The Nazis?” Tom
laughed. “What the hell would they want with an ancient civilization?”

“Heinrich
Himmler, the man who started the original SS, believed strongly in the perfect
bloodline and noble DNA. Like Adolf Hitler, he was obsessed with the concept
that Germany came from a powerful bloodline. Throughout the war, they spent a
fortune trying to find Atlantis, believing that Germany had originated from
it.” Sam looked at them and shook his head. “Himmler made declarations that
they had found Atlantis and were in the process of proving their pure heritage,
but no one actually believed any of it. Everyone just assumed it was another
one of Hitler’s propaganda machines working in overdrive.” 

Tom looked at the
spears that still rested inside each of the men. “Well, there’s a bit of
useless trivia for your children. They got close, but look what they got for
their efforts.”

“It’s a timely
reminder to us not to become complacent here. This place, as with the real
Atlantis, may still be protected by a number of booby traps.”

“That’s
impossible. Surely their springs, coils, and firing mechanisms must have broken
over the centuries?”

“Yes, but as we
have already learned, there are still direct descendants of Atlantis very much
alive and keen to protect the secrets stored here.”

Tom stared at it
in awe. “It could take us more than a year and an army of archeologists to make
sense of this cavern, let alone where they have taken Billie.”

“The good news is
this isn’t Atlantis,” Sam replied. “And that means they’ll want to keep Billie
alive, and that we probably still have a chance. We just need to find where
they’re headed.”

“Still, we’d have
to get pretty lucky to make any sense of this in time to catch up. If they’ve
already been and left, then we know they got whatever they need from here.”

“Yes, but whoever
built this did so to be a library of their history. Therefore, we should find a
logical sequence.” Sam scanned through the rows upon rows of circles, until her
reached a blank area. “There. The circles are empty.”

“Meaning?”

“Those are empty
folders, still yet to be filled with the writings of Atlantis,” Sam said while
he studied the entry to the last circle. “It says that Atlantis is due to be
activated again…”

“Activated
again?” Tom looked surprised. “How do you know how to read ancient Atlantis
texts?”

“Because this is
the same language the Master Builders used.”

“Can you read
what else it says?”

“Unless the
proper code is input once more – and then it has some sort of date, but I can’t
work it out. I can read the numbers but I have no idea about their calendar to
make any sense of it.”

“Code to
Atlantis? Input into what? Did these people have computers or something?”

“I have no idea,”
Sam replied shaking his head. “Now I really wish Billie were here.”

“Maybe it’s a
good thing when Atlantis becomes activated?” Tom suggested.

“Hang on a second.
Over here.” Next to the strange symbol, Sam saw something that translated to:
Activation
Dates for Atlantis.
There were five dates: 120040, 40200; 18007; 1000 and
23. “Look the periods between the dates are getting smaller each time.” Four of
the dates had been scratched with stone, as though someone was writing them off
a list of things to do. But one was still yet to happen.

“Yes, but what do
they mean?”

“Beats me. I’m
just translating.”

“18,000 – Could
we be talking somewhere around 18,000 years ago?”

“No. I don’t even
know if these are dates. Even if I were sure they were dates, it wouldn’t help
us because it’s highly unlikely the Atlanteans used a measurement of time that
exactly matches ours. And even then, if they did, we still don’t know that
their math matches ours.”

“I thought math
was supposed to be the one universal constant?”

“In principle it
is. But there are a number of ways of doing things, and just because we liked
the concept of base ten, doesn’t mean that other cultures did too. For example,
the Mayans used base twelve, while numerous tribes around the world used base
eight because they counted the spaces between their fingers to make the number
eight, instead of the fingers.”

“So, you’re
telling me we just have some random numbers that could mean anything, but most
likely represent some time or event in the past?”

“That’s pretty
much the gist of it.” Sam looked helpful and then said, “Or even the future.”

Tom stared at the
ceiling again, without any recognition in any of it. “I just got an idea,” he
said, handing Sam a piece of paper. “Write those numbers down for me. And the
number at the end of the final circle. I’ll put them into your tablet while you
decipher the rest. Maybe it can make the translation somehow, or at least make
the reference to significant events in history?”

Sam handed him
the numbers and Tom carefully typed them into the tablet and then ran a search
for any similarities, order, or obvious codes. When that came up with nothing,
he then ran the dates by significant archeological events.

Again, it came up
with nothing.

It was a long
shot, he knew. After all, the numbers were unlikely to relate to any dates
based on current calendar dating systems. Then he realized how he could combine
the tests to achieve a possible answer.

He assigned a
random number against each date and then compared the difference between each
of them with any known archeological events recorded. Big events, was what he
was after, specifically. This time, the computer gave him a simple list.

He had no way of
telling the time between each event on its own, but now he could compare them
all and the computer could determine a probable dating of the numbers they had
found.

Tom stared at the
simple answers.

His face turned pale,
and his hands sweaty.

“What is it?”

“The numbers 18007 appears to match up with the date Atlantis sunk
and more importantly, the end of the last Ice Age. Prior to that, the Atlantean
year 40200 relates to the approximate start of the Ice Age. And 120040, seems
pretty close to when the dinosaurs disappeared. Each time it was activated, an
Ice Age either started or ceased. Either way, it didn’t work out so crash hot
for the planet’s inhabitants.”

“You mean, this thing’s wiping the slate clean? It’s removing all
creatures who have not succeeded in evolving to the next level?”

“That’s what it looks like to me, and it gets worse.”

“Really.  How much worse can it get?”

Tom sighed. “So I put that final date into the computer…”

“And?”

“It says we have three weeks until it’s activated again.”