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Authors: Andy McDermott

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BOOK: Kingdom of Darkness
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Again, Kroll caught the blink-fast flicker of her expression. ‘What was that?’

‘What was what?’ Nina asked, confused.

‘When you touched your side. There is something under your clothes.’

‘She was searched,’ Rasche insisted. ‘There is nothing hidden.’

‘Did you look, or did you just feel?’ Kroll snapped. ‘Dr Wilde, raise your shirt.’

‘What?’ Nina protested. ‘What the hell for?’

‘Do it!’ The Nazi leader glanced at Rasche, whose gun was still aimed at Macy.

‘Okay, okay! Jesus,’ Nina tugged up her grubby top. ‘There! Happy now . . .’

She had meant to say that with as much defiance as she could muster, but the words faded as she saw the growths on her skin.

In the whirlwind chaos of her visit to Egypt, she had not given them more than a cursory glance. But now she saw to her disgust and horror that even in the few days since she’d revealed them to Eddie, the loathsome excrescences had visibly grown. Worse, more had appeared, several angry red blisters extending the line of infection further around her torso. ‘Jesus,’ she repeated, this time in a whisper.

Macy gasped. ‘Oh my God! Nina . . .’

Kroll bent to peer at the tumours. ‘They are worse than you expected.’ It was not a question.

‘That’s right,’ Nina said, determined not to let the Nazi see her despair. ‘So you can’t threaten me. I’m already dead – I just haven’t stopped moving yet. And putting a bullet in my head would probably be doing me a favour.’

‘We still have your friends,’ Rasche warned.

‘We may have something more.’ Kroll straightened, a smile slowly oozing on to his lips. ‘I think you
will
help us find the Spring of Immortality, Dr Wilde. And you will do so because you
want
to.’

‘And why would I do that?’ demanded Nina.

The smile widened, exposing crooked, nicotine-stained teeth. ‘In the seventy years that we have been taking the water,’ said Kroll, ‘not one of us has been ill, even for one day. Not with so much as a cold. And the water does not merely prevent sickness. It
cures
it. Schneider had pneumonia when we found the pithos; after he drank from it, the infection disappeared.’ Schneider nodded in confirmation. The SS commander regarded Nina with the air of someone making an offer that could not be refused. ‘The spring is your only hope of staying alive, Dr Wilde. Help us find it . . . and we will share it with you.’

20

Nina was speechless. Not at Kroll’s offer in itself, but for what it could mean to her. She had resigned herself to the sickness spreading through her body, accepting that death was drawing ever closer . . . but now someone was offering her hope.

That someone being a murderous war criminal.

‘Think about it, Dr Wilde,’ Kroll went on, seeing her uncertainty. ‘You would not only be cured, but by drinking the water you would extend your own life. You wanted to make one last discovery – but how many more could you make with another century in which to make them? Find the spring, and I shall give you a lifetime supply of its water.’

Rasche objected sharply in German. Kroll responded with a verbal explosion that made his second-in-command flinch. The leader stalked across the room to stand right in front of Rasche and harangued his subordinate at full volume, spittle flying from his mouth. The younger guards seemed genuinely terrified by the outburst.

Kroll finally stopped ranting – but remained in Rasche’s face, nose to nose as if daring him to reply. Tight-lipped, jaw clenched, Rasche eventually drew himself to attention and said, ‘
Nein, mein Führer
.’ Kroll nodded in angry satisfaction and slowly stepped back, not breaking eye contact until he drew level with Nina.

‘Trouble in the ranks?’ she asked.

The baleful stare turned upon her. ‘Do not test me, Dr Wilde. My offer is genuine – although Obersturmführer Rasche did not approve. But he is now in agreement with me. As is every other man in the Enklave.’ He looked to Schneider, Walther and Gausmann, all of whom bowed their heads in deference. ‘Did you know that your name in German,
Wilde
, means a maniac, a savage? But that is not the impression I get from you. You are an intelligent and rational woman, so I will make you a proposal that only a fool could turn down. If you help us prolong our lives, I will help you save yours. I will of course let your friends go, unharmed. That is my offer. What do you say?’

Again, Nina found herself unable to answer. She didn’t believe Kroll for a moment. The Nazis had only resurfaced out of desperation; even if they found their life-extending prize, they couldn’t risk anyone revealing the location of their hideout. They were still on the wanted list of every international law enforcement agency – to say nothing of the blood vengeance sought by the Mossad. Letting their prisoners go would ensure their end, either in a prison cell or with a bullet to the head.

But . . .

What if the water really
could
cure her?

She knew it was unlikely. There was no proof of the water’s restorative properties other than Kroll’s word, which she considered absolutely worthless.

But
 . . .

His mere existence, decades younger than he should have been, confirmed that
part
of the legend was true. The Spring of Immortality had been found once – twice, in fact, since Andreas had returned to it after the death of Alexander the Great. Maybe it could be found again.

Maybe
she
could find it.

You’re insane, she tried to tell herself. Clutching at straws. And she was dealing with mass murderers, ruthless members of one of the most evil organisations in history, who were now actively working to resurrect it. If the spring still existed, then helping the Nazis find it would practically be a crime in itself.

But if she could locate it and keep it from them . . .

The bronze relic was still in its case. The Greek text inscribed upon the ancient artefact stood out around its edge. Somewhere in the words was hidden the spring’s location. She
could
find it, she was sure, just as she had found other wonders of the past.

If she made a deal with the devil . . .

‘Okay,’ she said, looking back at Kroll. ‘You want me to help you locate the spring? I’ll do it – if you promise you’ll keep your word about letting us go.’

‘I promise,’ he replied.

Insincerity was almost painted on his face. But Nina had expected nothing else, and masked her suspicions. ‘All right. Then let’s get started.’ Macy gaped at her, appalled.

‘We already have maps and reference material,’ said Kroll. He gestured towards the door. One of the guards opened it, signalling for the prisoners to follow him down the hall.

‘What are you doing?’ Macy hissed to Nina as the group exited. ‘You actually want to
help
these people? They’re Nazis!’

‘Just go along with it,’ Nina whispered back.

Macy looked first confused, then conflicted. ‘Wait, you’ve got a plan?’

‘I hope so . . .’

Further furtive discussion was cut off as they were brought into a large room. One wall was occupied by a chalkboard, smudged remnants of German visible upon it. Several maps were pinned up; Nina recognised one as a street plan of Alexandria, the others showing the Middle East at various scales.

Kroll stood before the chalkboard, the still scowling Rasche alongside him. ‘Now, Dr Wilde,’ he said as the artefact was removed from its case, ‘begin.’

Nina exchanged looks with Macy and Banna, then regarded the metal fish. ‘Okay, based on what we learned when we examined it in Egypt, the first thing we need is a gnomon. How tall did it say it had to be?’

Banna read the text. ‘One
dichas
.’

‘Which if I remember my ancient Greek measurements was just over six inches, so fifteen-point-four centimetres.’ Kroll appeared surprised by her natural talent for mental arithmetic; clearly his research had not uncovered everything about her. ‘Okay, we need a stick exactly one hundred fifty-four millimetres tall that’ll stand up vertically in this hole.’ She tapped the fish’s eye.

‘I will have one made.’ The Nazi issued orders, one of his men hurrying out. ‘What else must be done?’

Banna kept reading. ‘We are supposed to enter the date using the large dials, then take a reading of the angle of the sun at noon outside Alexander’s tomb.’

‘Just like Eratosthenes,’ said Nina. The first person to make an accurate calculation of the earth’s circumference had done so by measuring the sun’s highest position in the sky over Egypt using the shadow cast by a gnomon. ‘Too bad you didn’t know that when we were actually
in
Alexandria,’ she said to Kroll. ‘It would have saved you the cost of a flight back there.’

The obese German was not amused. ‘The sun’s position can be calculated using computers.’

‘I know. The IHA has a good app.’

‘Which you will not be using. If you log into the IHA, they will know you are alive – and where you are. I am not a fool, Dr Wilde.’

‘Just a fascist,’ she said under her breath. ‘Ubayy, what next?’

‘We move the pointer until it touches the shadow,’ said Banna. He turned the artefact over, rotating one of the dials. The little bronze marker protruding from the slot moved in synchronisation. ‘Then we turn this small wheel,’ he touched it, ‘which locks part of the mechanism – it becomes a base for all other calculations.’

Nina read on. ‘Okay, then you follow Alexander’s route. Once you arrive in the Kingdom of Darkness, you dial in how many days it took you to get there from Alexandria . . .’ She straightened, impressed. ‘Wow, Andreas really was quite the gadget master. It adjusts the pointer’s position to take into account the sun’s precession. How much the sun moves up and down over time because of the earth’s axial tilt,’ she added, seeing varying degrees of incomprehension on the watching Nazis’ faces.

‘I know what it is!’ snapped Kroll. ‘Have you located the spring?’

‘Have you located the gnomon?’ she replied. ‘We can’t do anything until we can start taking measurements.’

The Nazi reddened with anger, while Rasche seemed amused that his superior had been made to look foolish. Kroll shouted more orders. Another man rushed out, coming back with the laptop from the study. A couple of minutes later, the first soldier returned, bearing a dowel. Kroll snatched it from him and thrust it at Nina.

The length of wood fitted neatly into the fish’s eye. ‘Okay,’ Nina said, ‘now we’ll need a protractor, a long ruler – and a website that can tell us the sun’s angle in a specific location on a specific day.’

The required tools were quickly procured. Nina held the protractor against the artefact. ‘Find the longitude and latitude of Alexander’s tomb. Then use them to calculate the sun’s position at noon.’ As Kroll began to search for the results on the computer, she took a closer look at the parts of the mechanism visible through the slot. ‘You know . . .’

‘What is it?’ Macy asked.

‘I just realised that we can work out the spring’s latitude right away! Based on Alexander’s historical route and what’s written in the
Romance
, it’s most likely somewhere in northern Iran. Which,’ she regarded one of the maps of the Middle East, ‘was a long trek in Alexander’s day – weeks, or even months – but today, you could fly there in a couple of hours. So if we don’t advance the date dial at all, the same result is still valid . . .’ She faced Banna. ‘How do you find out if you’re at the spring?’

The Egyptian rechecked the Greek text. ‘Once you reach the Kingdom of Darkness, you enter the number of days you have travelled, then take another reading of the sun at noon.’ He indicated the series of small notches inscribed along the slot’s edge. ‘Wherever the pointer is, if the shadow of the gnomon falls exactly five marks from it, then you are the correct distance north of the tomb. You then search for landmarks; the spring is in the shadow of a mountain peak, through the arch of Alexander.’

‘On the north face, I guess that means,’ said Macy. ‘If the sun’s behind it at noon.’

‘So if the travel time between the tomb and the spring is less than one day,’ Nina said, almost to herself as calculations took on form in her mind, ‘five of these marks must be equal to however many degrees of latitude there are between the two places. Right?’

Macy blinked. ‘Ah . . . if you say so.’

‘They are. Trust me. Five ticks represent how many degrees north you have to go from Alexandria.’ She glanced back towards Kroll. ‘Have you got those figures yet?’

The SS commander was displeased at being on the receiving end of a demand, but he continued to tap on the keyboard until he had a result. ‘Alexander’s tomb is at approximately thirty-one degrees and eleven minutes north, twenty-nine degrees and fifty-three minutes east.’

‘Okay, enter that into the solar altitude calculator. Set the date for tomorrow, and get the figure for twelve noon, local time.’

Still bristling, Kroll did so. ‘The sun’s position at midday is eighty-three-point-five degrees above the horizon.’

‘Eighty-three-point-five,’ Nina echoed. She used the protractor and ruler to find where the tip of a shadow cast by the gnomon would fall along the slot if the sun were at that height. ‘Okay, now we need to work out where the sun would be five ticks from that.’

‘The sun covers half a degree of arc,’ Banna pointed out. ‘We should take several measurements and find the average.’

‘Good point, but let’s just get the basics for now.’

Macy leaned closer, lowering her voice to the limit of audibility. ‘Slow it down, Nina! You’re leading these jerks right to it.’

Nina suddenly realised that her desire to discover the ancient artefact’s secrets had indeed overcome the need to delay doing so. It was a trap she had fallen into before, but never had restraining her archaeological urges been so crucial. ‘Although yeah, we do need to be accurate,’ she added quickly. ‘We’ll take measurements for eighty-three and eighty-four degrees as well. And we should double check that we’ve got the sun’s absolute highest position in the sky – it isn’t always exactly at noon.’

Rasche spoke to Kroll, suspicious, but the leader shook his head. ‘We must be precise. But,’ he went on, with a stern glare at the three archaeologists, ‘if I think you are deliberately slowing the work, you will be punished.’

‘Yeah, we got it,’ said Nina. That meant that they had some leeway to hold things up; the question was how far Kroll’s patience would stretch. ‘Okay, let’s get the other measurements.’

The trio did so, Macy taking notes. Once they had an average result, Banna turned the bronze dial to move the pointer to the indicated position. ‘All right,’ Nina said, ‘we know from Andreas’ text that the spring’s latitude is five ticks from the pointer. So now we work backwards; we measure the angle where the sun would have to be to cast a shadow on that point, and then,’ she indicated the laptop, ‘we keep the same longitude, but keep entering latitude coordinates moving northwards by steps until the sun’s height there matches what we’ve got. That’ll tell us how much farther north the spring is from the tomb.’

Kroll nodded. ‘And then we retrace Alexander’s route until we reach the correct area.’

‘Yes,’ said Banna. ‘The text describes Alexander going north through mountains to reach a sea. Based on the historical accounts of his travels, that must be the Alborz range in Iran.’

‘So when his route gets to the right latitude,’ Nina continued, ‘there’s the spring.’

‘Then find it,’ said Rasche, unimpressed.

Nina and Banna repeated the process of calculating the sun’s position, this time placing the tip of the imaginary shadow on the fifth marker along the slot from the pointer. ‘The sun would be one-point-eight degrees lower in the sky than at Alexandria,’ she finally reported, having slowed things for as long as she could. ‘So now, start putting in more northerly coordinates until we get a match.’

Kroll, still in charge of the laptop, began the laborious procedure. He entered a new position one degree north of the original, scrolled through the results to find the angle of the sun at midday, then recited it to the trio. The process was repeated with gradually increasing precision until eventually a match was found. ‘Thirty-seven degrees, thirty-seven minutes north!’ Nina announced, despite everything still feeling a thrill of discovery. ‘That makes a difference of just over six and a half degrees of latitude between Alexander’s tomb and the spring.’

Kroll went to one of the maps. ‘Show me!’

She exchanged a concerned look with Macy. ‘We don’t know exactly where Alexander crossed the mountain—’

BOOK: Kingdom of Darkness
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