The Revelation Code (Wilde/Chase 11) (29 page)

Eddie and Nina followed. ‘Okay, we found where the smell’s coming from,’ the Englishman announced, wrinkling his nose.

A vertical shaft thirty feet in diameter opened out before them, dropping into darkness below. The walls were home to more mushrooms, the largest bigger than a clenched fist. A faint light came from what Nina at first thought were small holes in the ragged ceiling high above, before closer inspection revealed that the milky glow was actually being refracted through veins of some type of translucent crystal.

But the most arresting feature was man-made.

A narrow bridge of blackened wood led across the chasm to an archway flush with the wall on the far side, the opening barricaded by a heavy door. A now-familiar symbol was marked upon it: the menorah of the twenty-four Elders. Beside the entrance, a large nook had been carved from the rock, numerous small objects sitting within. ‘Careful,’ Nina warned. ‘That doesn’t look safe.’

Eddie moved to get a look at the crossing’s supports. ‘No kidding.’

He retreated so Nina could see. The near end of the rickety bridge was supported by what she could only think of as a hinge; the whole thing seemed designed to plunge intruders into the pit below.

She dropped a loose stone over the edge. A faint splash echoed back up the shaft after a couple of seconds. ‘It must be a cenote,’ she mused. ‘There’s a reservoir at the bottom; it might even join up with the sinkhole outside. And this’ – she waved her hand at the bridge – ‘is a trap to tip people into it.’

‘I’ll go back and get some rope,’ said Eddie.

‘No, wait a minute. Look at that.’ She shone her flashlight at the nook. Set into its back was a piece of glinting metal: a bronze slab almost a foot wide and several inches deep. There was a slit in the rock beneath it, through which a rod protruded to support the shelf. ‘We’ve seen something like that before, in the Atlantean temple in Brazil. It’s a weighing scale.’

‘To weigh what?’ asked Jared.

‘Those.’ She shifted the beam to pick out the objects below the scale: stones of various sizes. ‘There’s more text by the door. It’s some sort of test; a puzzle. It probably tells you what you have to do to get in.’

‘Which you’ve got to cross the bridge to read,’ Eddie said dubiously.

‘Yeah, that’s kinda worrying. But I don’t think it automatically throws everybody who tries to cross down the shaft. It’s more likely that it only catches people who fail the test. The people who knew the answer, the ones who built this place, could come and go as they wanted.’

Jared conducted his own examination of the bridge. ‘That may have been true when they built it. But look at it! It’s falling apart. If it really was made by the Israelites, then it’s over three thousand years old.’

‘It might not be as old as you think,’ Nina countered. ‘The people who hid the angels, the Elders, did so a long time after the Exodus. John of Patmos discovered their writings in the Library of Pergamon, and that wasn’t founded until around 350
BC
.’

Eddie made a sarcastic sound. ‘Oh, so it’s only over
two
thousand years old. That makes it
completely
safe.’

‘The site may have still been used for a long time after that, though.’

‘Or it might not. Seriously, don’t even think about crossing it until we get some ropes.’

‘I’ll go back for them,’ said Jared. ‘Wait here for me.’

‘Don’t bloody worry, we’re not going anywhere!’ the Englishman told him. Jared smiled and headed back down the tunnel.

Nina watched him go, then moved to the bridge. ‘Oi,’ said Eddie.

‘What?’

‘You’re thinking about putting a foot on it, aren’t you? Just to test your theory.’

‘No I wasn’t,’ she said, not entirely convincingly.

He shook his head. ‘I dunno. You say you’re done with all this stuff, but give you half a chance and you’re back climbing cliffs to reach ancient temples. Even when you’re pregnant.’

The words had been spoken with humour, but Nina’s expression revealed that she had taken them very seriously indeed. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘I’m worried that . . . that I’m going to be a bad mom,’ she admitted in a quiet voice.

Eddie was surprised. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ She held out both hands to encompass their surroundings. ‘I’m four months pregnant, and I’m in a cave halfway up a mountain in the middle of a desert looking for an ancient relic with the power to kill thousands of people! I should be going to Lamaze classes or pigging out with a big tub of chocolate fudge ice cream.’

‘Just because you’re having a baby doesn’t make you an invalid. And it doesn’t mean you have to give up everything else, either.’

‘That’s the thing, though,’ she said. ‘I don’t
want
to give this up. Not now; not at all. And that’s why I’m worried about becoming a mother – because I’ll
have
to give it up. Which makes me . . . selfish. We’re having a child, but I just keep thinking about how that’ll stop me from . . . from doing what I
do
.’

She turned away from him, looking down into the darkness of the cenote. ‘You know what’s weird? We were both dragged into this in the worst way possible, but now that we’re free . . . I’m almost glad I’m here. I could have told Oswald to hand this over to someone at the IHA, but I wanted to do it. I
wanted
to do it,’ she repeated, with emphasis. ‘I deliberately chose to do something that could be dangerous, even though I’m pregnant. What the hell kind of mother does that?’

‘But . . . you do still want a child?’ Eddie asked hesitantly.

‘Yes, I do – of course I do!’ She looked down at the slight swell of her abdomen. ‘I want us to have a baby together. But it’s kind of scary, and I hadn’t realised just how scary because I had other issues going on. First I was in denial about how much Macy’s death had affected me, and because of that I was hyper-obsessed with working on the book – and then I was blocked because I was depressed and not sure if everything I’d done in my life was actually worth it.’

‘You were?’ he asked, surprised.

‘I wasn’t seeing a shrink to get over my fear of public speaking. And I know I should have told you exactly why I was having therapy, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to burden you with my psychological problems.’

‘Yeah, you should have done,’ he said, though with sympathy rather than in remonstration. ‘We’re married. Being burdened with your problems is sort of my job! But just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean you have to give up everything important to you. It just means you need to change how you do it. You can still write your book, for a start.’ He moved up behind her. ‘And since you’re not at the IHA any more, maybe you can do some of that “proper” archaeology you go on about, and dig little bits of junk out of the dirt instead of being surrounded by gunfire and explosions.’

‘I could definitely live with that,’ she said, managing a small smile, albeit brief.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘You can do anything you put your mind to; I know you, you’re too bloody stubborn to give up! Trust me, you’ll be a great mum.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nina glumly. ‘I really don’t know if I will . . .’

Echoing footsteps signalled Jared’s return. ‘I brought the rope and some gear,’ the Israeli called as he reappeared.

‘Good lad,’ said Eddie. ‘Okay, let’s set this up.’

Nina watched as they pounded a pair of pitons into the rock wall, then fixed the rope to them. ‘You do realise that if the bridge collapses when you cross it, you’ll swing back and slam into the wall, right?’

‘Course I do,’ her husband replied. ‘That’s why I’m sending the kid!’

Jared gave him a startled look, which quickly became one of smug superiority. ‘Actually, I was going to volunteer anyway. You can’t leave something like this to an unsteady old man.’

‘You keep thinking that,’ said Eddie. He secured the rope to the younger man’s harness. ‘You sure you want to do this?’ he asked, more concerned.

Jared looked down into the pit’s inky depths. ‘No . . . but somebody has to, and my mom really
would
be disappointed in me if I let a pregnant woman risk it!’

‘Thank you, Jared,’ said Nina, with an appreciative nod.

‘I’ll play out the rope to you,’ said Eddie, picking up the coil of nylon line. ‘If the bridge looks like it’s going to give way, run right back. If you fall, I’ll catch you.’

Now the Israeli was the appreciative one, although he couldn’t resist making a crack. ‘Hope your withered arms can take the weight,
alter kocker
.’

‘Or I could fucking
kick
you over there . . . Ready?’

Jared steeled himself. ‘Yeah.’

‘Okay. Watch yourself.’

The Israeli cautiously put one foot on the narrow bridge. The old wooden beams had been dried out over flames to harden them; even so, they creaked. He edged forward. ‘Seems solid so far.’

‘Your weight’s still being taken by that hinge,’ Nina reminded him, her nervousness growing. ‘Please be careful.’

‘Don’t worry, I will!’ He aimed his flashlight down at the bridge, then advanced until he was clear of the support. The creaks grew in volume as he shuffled along . . . then eased.

Nina let out a relieved breath. ‘Thank God.’

‘You’re doing fine,’ Eddie called, carefully letting out more rope. ‘Just take it easy. You’re about a third of the way there.’

Jared moved on – then abruptly stopped. ‘Some of the planks are missing.’

‘Then don’t step on the holes!’

The advice drew a glare, but he adjusted his step to traverse the gap. The next intact board held, though with a raspy protest. A second space, wider, but this too he successfully crossed. ‘It’s holding.’

‘Great,’ said Eddie, trying not to let his concern show. He knew that a loss of confidence could be as dangerous as any broken plank. ‘You’re almost halfway across. Just keep going, nice and steady.’

Jared used his torch to check the remainder of the bridge. ‘There aren’t any more gaps,’ he said as he took another careful step. ‘I should be able—’

Crack!

Nina shrieked as the gunshot snap of breaking wood echoed around the cenote. Jared staggered, trying to regain his balance . . .

He failed. Arms flailing, he toppled towards the abyss.

26

E
ddie yanked the rope, pulling Jared on to his back just before he plunged. The whole bridge shook. The Israeli’s flashlight spun away into the darkness below as he grabbed at the crossing. ‘Jared!’ yelled the Yorkshireman, reeling in the line. ‘Hold on, I’ve got you!’

Jared secured himself. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay!’

Eddie held the line taut. ‘You sure?’

The younger man waited until the bridge stopped shuddering, then very slowly sat up. More moans came from the supports, but the structure held. ‘Yes! Let it out again so I can get up.’

Reluctantly, Eddie did so. Jared cautiously rose to a crouch. Nina aimed her flashlight to illuminate the bridge ahead of him. He surveyed the dusty wood, then continued onwards with great care. Eddie played the rope out in his wake.

The Mossad agent passed the three-quarters mark – then froze, as did Nina and Eddie, as a pole cracked beneath him. The structure swayed . . . then steadied. Nina shone her light at the supports. ‘I think it’s okay,’ she said.

‘How does the bridge feel?’ Eddie asked Jared.

The Israeli glanced back. ‘About two thousand years old! Nina, can you give me more light?’

She brought the beam to the top side of the crossing. Jared composed himself, then set off again. Five feet to go, three . . . ‘There,’ he said with a gasp of relief. ‘Okay, I’m going to secure the rope.’

It did not take long to hammer another two pitons into place and fasten the line to them. Eddie tested that it was firmly secured by hanging beneath it. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘we can get across without worrying about falling into the lair of the white worm.’

Nina raised an eyebrow. ‘Okay, your movie references keep getting more obscure.’

‘Now we need to get that door open. I’m guessing the dynamite method isn’t going to be approved.’

‘Nope,’ she told him. ‘Jared, come back over so I can look at the scale. We shouldn’t risk having two people on the bridge at once.’

‘Or even one person,’ Eddie said.

Jared remained in place, examining the alcove beside the door. ‘No, you’ll need my help. There’s more ancient Hebrew here.’

‘Okay,’ Nina decided reluctantly. ‘Translate as much of it as you can and tell me what it says.’

He nodded. ‘I need a light.’

Eddie held up his own torch. ‘Hope you can catch better than you can walk across bridges.’

‘Yeah, yeah, old man. Just throw it to me.’

Eddie tossed the torch across the gap; Jared caught it with one hand. ‘Show-off.’

The Israeli grinned, then directed the light at the alcove. ‘What do you see?’ Nina asked.

‘There are about thirty stones, all different sizes,’ he reported. ‘Each one has a letter carved into it . . . No, wait, they must be numbers. I can read parts of the text. It says that God’s number is seven, and then something about . . . wisdom, needing wisdom?’ He was silent for a long moment, scanning the ancient words. ‘Okay, I think it says that you have to prove your wisdom, I guess, to get through the door. You were right about it being a test. You have to know the . . . the number of a man?’

An idea had already formed in Nina’s mind at the mention of the word
wisdom
, and now it came to her in a flash of – appropriately enough – revelation. ‘That’s right!’ she called, excited. ‘It
is
the number of a man. I don’t remember the exact chapter and verse from Revelation, but I know what it says: “Let him that hath understanding” – or wisdom in some translations – “count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man.”’

‘That sounds familiar,’ said Eddie. ‘You’re about to quote some Iron Maiden lyrics, aren’t you?’

‘Not quite. The King James Version isn’t as catchy. But according to John of Patmos, the number of the Beast is “six hundred threescore and six”.’

‘Six! Hundred threescore! And six! The number of the Beast!’ he sang tunelessly. ‘Yeah, definitely not as catchy.’

‘What was that noise?’ demanded Jared.

‘Tchah! Kids today don’t appreciate the classics. So are you supposed to put three stones with sixes on them on to the scale?’

‘Seems like it,’ Nina told him . . . though with a hint of doubt.

‘I can do that right now,’ Jared called out. ‘It’s using the Hebrew system, so the symbols we need are
tav resh
, six hundred . . .’ He plucked a pebble from the group, then located a second. ‘
Samekh
for sixty, and then . . . here –
vav
, six. Six hundred plus sixty plus six. So I put these on the scale and the door should open, yes?’ He picked them up, about to deposit them on the bronze slab— ‘No, no!’ Nina suddenly yelled. ‘Don’t do anything!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie asked, alarmed – though not nearly as much as Jared, who froze with one hand above the scale.

‘Give me a second. I need to think.’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘The number might not
be
six-six-six. That’s the generally accepted version today, but there are several ancient copies of Revelation where it’s written as six-
one
-six. The Codex Ephraemi Rescriptus, Papyrus 115 from the Oxyrhynchus excavation in Egypt . . . they pre-date the King James Bible by over a thousand years.’

‘Both versions can’t be right,’ said Eddie.

‘No, they can’t. One of them is a transcription error . . . but there’s no way to know which.’

Jared put the stones back in the niche. ‘So should I change the second number to
yud
, ten?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Nina.

‘It’s a fifty-fifty chance,’ Eddie pointed out.

‘I don’t want to risk Jared’s life on a coin-toss.’

‘What should I do?’ asked Jared. ‘Shall I come back over?’

‘Hold on.’ Nina stared at the alcove, then redirected her flashlight. ‘Jared, can you move sideways so I can see the door?’

The Israeli reluctantly leaned aside, holding the rope for support. ‘What is it?’ asked Eddie. ‘You found something?’

‘Maybe.’ The light shone upon the symbol of the menorah. ‘That’s the sign of the twenty-four Elders – the people who contained the meteorite fragments in the angels, then dispersed them for safe keeping. Cross showed me a photo he took inside the ruins – the same symbol was there too.’ She frowned, trying to tease out a memory. ‘There was some writing with it, something about numbers . . . Jared, what exactly does it say there about the number of God?’

Jared checked the text upon the door. ‘As near as I can tell, it reads, “The number that is Yahweh is seven.”’

‘That’s what it said in the temple Cross found,’ Nina said thoughtfully. ‘Seven is the number of God . . . and man is always less than God.’

‘So the number of a man would be six?’ suggested Eddie.

The truth came to her as she finally remembered the rest of the translation the cult leader had shown her at the Mission. ‘Yes – but the Elders said more than that. “Three times shall it be said” was how they put it. And in the catacomb in Rome, they said it again: “It is three times spoken, the dragon’s number is that of man.” It’s not just the number six on its own, and it’s not six hundred sixty-six – it’s six, repeated three times for emphasis. Just like in your song,’ she added with a smile. ‘Six! Six! Six!
That’s
the number of man – and that’s the answer to the test.’

She called out across the cenote. ‘Jared! The stone that represents the number six – put it on the scale three times.’

‘You mean, put it on, take it off, then put it back again twice more?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘That’s it exactly. But for God’s sake, keep hold of the rope in case I’m wrong!’

Jared took a firm hold of the line as he used his other hand to pick up one particular stone. With a nervous look back at Nina, he placed it on the scale.

The metal shelf dropped slightly under its weight. Everyone held their breath . . .

The bridge remained intact. ‘Well, that’s a start,’ said Eddie, exhaling.

‘It made a noise,’ the Israeli reported. ‘There was a clank from behind it, like two pieces of metal hitting each other.’

‘Do it again,’ Nina said.

Jared picked up the stone. The scale rose back to its original position. He repeated the process. Another faint sound came from whatever mechanism was hidden behind the wall. A third time; a much louder bang resounded through the shaft. Jared grabbed the rope with both hands – but the bridge stayed in place.

‘Look!’ cried Nina. ‘It’s opening!’ The door swung slowly inwards. It stopped after moving only a foot, but that was enough for Jared to step on to a solid floor. He pushed it wider. ‘What can you see?’

‘Another tunnel,’ he replied.

‘Wait for me. I’m coming over.’

‘
We’re
coming over,’ Eddie corrected. ‘And you’re not taking any risks, either. Hold on.’ He hooked Nina’s climbing harness to the rope. ‘Right, now you can go. But take it easy.’

‘Okay,
Dad
,’ she huffed.

‘Hey, I actually
am
going to be a dad, so I’m allowed to be overprotective.’

‘Point taken.’ They smiled at each other, then Nina set off, sidestepping across the bridge with both hands on the rope. A moment of worry as she reached the broken plank, but she picked her way over without incident. Once clear, she hurried to the doorway, standing on the step before detaching the harness.

‘You okay?’ Jared asked as he helped her through.

‘Fine, thanks.’ She panned her light around the new passage. It had the same rounded cross-section as on the other side of the shaft, but its decorations were far more elaborate, gold leaf and precious stones set around the paintings of religious scenes. The door was not merely a barrier; it also marked the boundary of an inner sanctum, a place of great importance to the ancient Israelites.

Eddie made his way across behind them. ‘All right, so what have we got?’

‘This must be the entrance to their temple,’ Nina said, pointing the flashlight along the tunnel. The ornate walls curved away out of sight. There was no sign here of the mushrooms growing around the cenote; the door had apparently acted as a seal, keeping the air inside dry. ‘Come on.’

‘Will there be any more traps?’ asked Jared, eyeing the paintings with suspicion as they started down the tunnel.

‘I don’t think so. This place was protected by a combination of obscurity and inaccessibility, and probably had people defending it too. Revelation said it had been “prepared”, so somebody had to be here to do that. That door was the final barrier, to make sure that only people who knew the true meaning of the Elders’ texts would be able to get in.’

‘All the same,’ said Eddie to Jared, ‘keep an eye out, will you? Just in case anything pops out of the walls.’ The younger man hurriedly redirected his flashlight beam to the sides of the passage.

No booby-traps interrupted their progress, however. Before long, something came into view ahead. ‘Ay up,’ said Eddie, surprised. ‘There’s a light in there.’ The tunnel opened out into a larger chamber, where they could clearly see the gleam of gold even without their torches.

‘It’s not daylight,’ Nina noted. There was an almost rainbow-like iridescence to the illumination. She entered the room – and stopped in astonishment. ‘Oh . . .’

Eddie moved up beside her, equally amazed. ‘Christ, that’s impressive. What
is
this place?’

She surveyed the wonders before her, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. ‘Based on the description in the Book of Revelation . . . I think we’ve just found God’s temple.’

The chamber was an expansive oval, an existing cave made much bigger by years, even decades of patient excavation. The walls were largely covered by drape-like hanging tapestries bearing Hebrew symbols. The dominant feature was a massive opal over two feet across embedded in the rock of the high ceiling. There was evidently a fissure in the mountain above that reached to the surface, letting in sunlight, which was then refracted by the great gemstone into a brilliant prismatic display.

The brightest spot was directly beneath the opal, a dazzling beam shining downwards like a laser. It landed upon a large golden throne, which stood on a patch of highly polished quartz set into the floor. More thrones, similar in design but somewhat smaller, encircled it. Nina started counting them, but already knew how many there would be. ‘Twenty-four,’ she said, confirming her belief. ‘These are the thrones of the twenty-four Elders.’

Eddie glanced at the central seat. ‘So whose is number twenty-five?’

‘God’s. He sits in the middle of everything, with his followers around him.’ Nina moved hesitantly into the ring. She was not religious by nature, but couldn’t help feeling a reverential awe. ‘Everything matches John’s description. The circle of thrones around God’s seat, the rainbow surrounding it . . .’ She indicated where the opal was casting a spectrum of light on the floor, catching the swathe of quartz. ‘Even this; John described it as a “sea of glass”, which considering that he was having a vision based on something he’d only read is pretty accurate. And then there’s the altar, the seven lamps . . .’ A large menorah stood before the throne, near a golden dais with a horn-like protrusion at each corner.

Jared nervously followed Nina and Eddie into the circle, having to force himself not to avert his eyes from the throne beneath the opal. ‘It feels like this is something I shouldn’t be allowed to see.’

Nina noticed something at the chamber’s far end. ‘If you’re worried about being struck down by God, then you really shouldn’t get any closer to that.’

Beyond the golden circle was something extremely incongruous in the splendour of their surroundings: a simple tent made from animal skins. It was rectangular, around fifteen feet wide and three times as long. Time had dried and decayed the hides in the stillness of the chamber, but they had clearly been exposed to the harsh elements of the desert beforehand. The entrance was draped in woven curtains, the faded remnants of once-vibrant colours still showing after uncounted centuries.

‘Okay, that doesn’t really go with the other furniture,’ Eddie said.

‘You don’t know what it is?’ she replied. ‘Oh, right; you always skipped Sunday school when you were a kid, didn’t you?’