Drowned History

by Rebecca Lovell

  “If I had to guess,” George said, holding it up to the light and turning it around, “Bone. Polished bone. It’s sturdy but light enough to lift in one hand.”

  “It almost looks like ivory,” Alice said, looking up at it. George brought it back down and held it out to her. She ran her hand down the shaft slowly, and smiled.

  “Warm, isn’t it?” George was smiling back at her and she nodded. “It seems to be coming from within the trishula though, not from the warmth out here.” He ran his hand up the shaft until his hand was just touching hers. “I don’t think I even have to ask what kind of bone it is.”

  “What kind is it?” Phillip stepped between them to look at the trishula and George narrowed his eyes at him, more out of habit than actual irritation.

  “If you look at the iconography,” George said, “Kali is almost always nude, save for a necklace of human heads and a skirt made of human arms. With that in mind, I’ll let you take a guess at what sort of bone it is.”

  Alice was suddenly wishing they had her notebook again. Not only would it have notes about the Goddess, she could be writing all this down. The paintings on the walls, the flowers littering the floor, and especially the soft singing that only she seemed to be able to hear. Alice hoped that it stayed with her once they were out of the temple. The strange dreams she had been sure she’d remember had been reduced to bits and pieces and she didn’t want to lose the memories of what she was seeing.

  “Maybe it’s ivory,” Phillip said, as if he was trying to convince himself. “It looks kind of like it.”

  “It’s bone,” George said, fully irritable now. His patience seemed to have finally disappeared, and Alice was surprised it had lasted this long. “Human bone.”

  “But what if---” Phillip’s words were cut off by a slow clapping sound from behind them. They turned as one to see a man in an immaculate black suit coming down the small staircase.

  “Very good,” he said in a cultured German accent. “Very good indeed.” He stepped out into the torchlight and Alice’s stomach dropped when she saw his face clearly. “I see we both found what we have been searching for tonight.”

  “Who are you?” Phillip stepped forward and Alice turned quickly, putting a hand out in front of the pilot.

  “No,” she said sharply enough to stop him in his tracks. “Don’t go near him. He’s dangerous.”

  “Who is he, Alice?” George stayed close to her and her eyes grew dark and angry, second only to the ones set into the statue of Kali. He touched her arm and she took a deep breath.

  “His name is Jan Schuvalt. He’s the Nazi son of a bitch that tried to kill me.”

  Twenty-Two

  George couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could believe that the man was a Nazi; he couldn’t think of another person who would wear an immaculate suit into an underground temple. In comparison, the rest of them were either dirty or soaking wet. It would have been easy for him to follow the path they had opened without inconveniencing himself in the slightest. What he was having trouble understanding was the fact that Alice not only knew the man, he had tried to kill her. Was this the man who was looking for her in Ahmedabad?

  “I want to thank you for all your hard work,” the Nazi said. “When Dr. Udeesh told me that he had another group of archaeologists coming to look at the wall I could hardly summon the interest to care. We’ve had so many, you see, and they either couldn’t figure it out or refused to go near it.”

  “Let me guess,” George said archly. “You’re part of the private group that’s sponsoring this dig.”

  “The very same,” the man replied with a small bow that somehow infuriated George more. “There was a rumor of an underground temple that housed a very unique object in this area and over the last few years we narrowed it down to this place.” He smiled. “Of course it hasn’t all been about the trishula. We’ve found some marvelous things that should put us in good with the Indian government, since they’ve got more important things to worry about than urns and pedestals.”

  “I somehow doubt you’re planning to turn the trishula over to the government,” George said. None of the others seemed to be capable of talking to the German but he didn’t care. George had long since ceased being afraid of Nazis.

  “You would be correct. The trishula will be taken to Germany for testing to see what sort of powers it possesses. There’s precious little information about it but anything hidden this thoroughly has to be important.”

  “How did you even get down here?” Alice seemed to be even less afraid of Schuvalt than George, an admirable thing since she had apparently already escaped death at his hands once.

  “I haven’t been far from this site since Dr. Udeesh informed me that you were going to the university to translate the writing. It would have been unusual for him not to answer your call so I had him destroy the radio while you were gone to prevent you from alerting the government. It’s strange,” Schuvalt said. “After all it took for you to figure out how to get past the wall, it simply remained open for us to follow you down.”

  “Us?” It finally hit George that the Dr. Udeesh that Schuvalt had been talking about was the man they had been calling Kiran, and as if to underscore this realization, Kiran came through the door behind Schuvalt with a gun in his hand. “You’ve been working for them?”

  “Working with them,” Kiran corrected, though George couldn’t see much difference. “It is only a matter of time before Germany replaces America as the dominant world power and when they do, they’ll remember who helped them.” He gestured at Phillip and Nadir with his gun. “Over there. By the wall.”

  “You’re stealing from your own country,” George said as Kiran herded their pilot and their leader into a space between urns that was well away from both the door and the statue. “How can you think your government will accept that?”

  “How is it any different from you taking it back to America to study?” As he said this, Kiran looked at Nadir and said something in a language that George recognized only as Punjabi. Whatever he’d said made Nadir’s face pale, and he smiled as he turned back to George. “At least I’ll be well paid for my assistance.”

  “I have to say,” Schuvalt said as he walked over to the statue slowly, looking around the temple as he did, “It is truly amazing. What heroes we will be when we present what we’ve found down here to the government.”

  “You mean what we found,” Alice said defiantly. “That’s just like you, coming in at the last second and taking credit for someone else’s work.”

  “As opposed to sneaking around and telling tales about someone else’s work?” He inclined his head slightly at Alice and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought I’d caught up with you the last time you lived in this dirty, backward country but you escaped again somehow. You can only imagine my delight when Dr. Udeesh radioed us and said that you were one of the archaeologists coming from America. Did you decide searching for antiquities was less dangerous than spying?”

  “It was only dangerous at the end,” she said. “When you realized that all your big talk was being reported to our government.” In response to this, Schuvalt took a gun of his own out of his pocket and pointed it at Alice. Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, George stepped in front of her.

  “I see,” Schuvalt said. “You must have been the British lover we were looking for in Surat. I have to admit she does have her charms. Not as many as she did ten or fifteen years ago but she’s pretty enough. I can’t imagine why no one wanted to marry her.” Out of the corner of his eye George saw Alice move like she was going to take a step around him and he put his arm out to keep her back. “Ah, yes. It’s becoming clearer.”

  “Leave her out of it,” George said, tightening his grip on the trishula. He hadn’t realized it but he was holding in front of them like a shield.

  “Impossible. You see, there are really only two things I want out of this,” Schuvalt said, using his gun to point first at the trishula, then at Alice.
“I want to take the trishula out of here and leave her behind.”

  “Not a chance.” George glanced back at Phillip and Nadir to make sure they were safe. Kiran was standing in front of them with the gun but didn’t seem to be paying too close of attention. Not that it mattered. They had both been shocked into submission. “On either count.”

  “Don’t be difficult,” Schuvalt said, his expression clearly saying he hoped they would. “No one else knows we’re down here. You can either hand me the trishula or I can kill you and take it off your dead body. It doesn’t matter to me which. As she said, you’ve already done the hard part.”

  “It’s me you want,” Alice said, stepping out a little ways. George wanted to grab her and shove her back behind him where she was safe but he had a feeling she would just come out again. She was proving far more tenacious than he’d ever dreamed. “Let the others go.”

  “No.” Schuvalt began walking across the floor to them and it was hard to tell whether Alice wanted to hide from him or claw his eyes out. Either thing was dangerous and George wished she would just let him protect her. “I’m afraid the odds are against you and your friends,” said the Nazi. “Perhaps if you explained it to them in a simpler tongue?”

  “Leave them alone,” Alice said, her voice shaking. “I’m the one you want, just let them go.”

  “No, I don’t think I will. Maybe if you gave me a kiss I could be swayed a little. I did so enjoy your kisses.” He reached out to Alice, only to have his hand knocked away by George.

  “Don’t touch her.”

  “Such a gentleman. It’s a shame you didn’t let her die out there,” Schuvalt said with a shrug. “Now you’ll have to watch me make sure she’s dead this time, and I have a feeling that drowning might have been quite a bit more peaceful.”

  “This is insane,” Nadir said, finding his voice again. “Surely we can discuss this?” George wasn’t sure if he was talking to Kiran or Schuvalt but at that point it didn’t much matter. There was no arguing with this man, no making him see reason. He was right. No one knew they were underground but the people in the inner sanctum, and even if he’d wanted to hand over the trishula he knew that they would all die anyway. The only way they were going to get out of this alive was disarming Schuvalt and he didn’t have the first idea how to do it.

  “There’s nothing left to discuss.” Schuvalt grabbed Alice’s arm and jerked her toward him. “Except maybe that kiss.”

  The trishula clattered to the floor as George threw it aside and punched the Nazi as hard as he could in the stomach. The gun fell out of his hand as he doubled over and Alice stepped back, just as George had hoped she would when he let go. Schuvalt looked up, eyes watering, and George took the opportunity to punch him in the face. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground and he lay unmoving on the stone.

  Alice moved toward the trishula while George turned to find that Kiran had fled the temple but left both Phillip and Nadir safely tied by the urn. He had the feeling that if they didn’t catch up with Kiran they would never find him again but at the moment he was past caring. They’d found what they were looking for. All he wanted was to take Alice and go home.

  If it hadn’t been for the stone that made every whisper sound like a shout, George might not have heard the click. He whipped around just in time to see Schuvalt’s finger on the trigger and grabbed Alice around the waist, pulling her out of the bullet’s path as the gun fired and giving him access to the one thing he knew would finish it for good.

  “George!”

  “You’re not getting the trishula,” George said, his service revolver pointed at Schuvalt’s head. “And you’re damn sure not getting Alice.” It was the first time since he left the military that he’d taken out the gun with the intent of using it and a memory of dirt and blood came with it. He could hear shouting behind him but he didn’t know if it was coming from his companions or all in his head. The latter possibility made him pause but every muscle in his body remained taut. Give me a reason, he thought, his jaw clenched. Any reason.

  “No matter how light the touch, the fist clenched behind the back is still a fist,” Schuvalt said, blood smeared around the corner of his mouth. “You will regret her, and soon.”

  “The only thing I regret,” George said, suddenly relaxed, “Is not being there to kill you the first time you shot her.”

  “You won’t do it,” Schuvalt said. “Not in front of the woman you love.” George paused for a moment, just long enough for the Nazi to raise the gun again and fire another shot. His bullet flew so close to George’s face that he could feel the air on his ear and Alice screamed. Knowing that if he gave Schuvalt a chance to shoot again, someone was going to die, George steadied his hand.

  With Alice, Phillip, and Nadir shouting in his ears, George pulled the trigger and could almost feel the goddess smiling.

  Twenty-Three

  No one spoke.

  Time seemed to have stretched out for Phillip somehow. He had seen George and Schuvalt fighting but it had been as if they were in a film that had been slowed down. He assumed that they had been moving quickly but to his eyes every motion lasted for minutes. The Nazi grabbing Alice. George punching the Nazi. The trishula hitting the ground. It all moved slower and slower until the moment George’s gun pointed at the Nazi’s head. The thing looked old enough that Phillip doubted it would actually go off but he had shouted with the others anyway, trying to distract the doctor. He might have been cold and sometimes rude, but he’d never thought in a million years he could be a killer.

  Then the Nazi’s second shot rang out and the world sped up again just long enough for George to shoot the man before he could fire again. His body felt frozen, suspended in water, and Phillip supposed as he saw Alice run over and grab George’s arm that it must be what the doctor would refer to as shock.

  “George!” She was shouting at him as if she was trying to wake him up and Phillip wouldn’t have been surprised if he had actually been asleep when he fired. Alice hadn’t been the only one having strange dreams, after all. George said something back to her that Phillip couldn’t hear and she reached up and put both of her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze . “Look at me. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” George said, more clearly this time. “He’s not the first person I’ve killed.”

  Phillip wasn’t sure whether this was a relief to him or not but for the moment it seemed that the two of them were too busy to worry about him and Nadir, and his arms were getting tired from being tied up. He had tried to break free several times while Alice and Schuvalt were speaking but only succeeded in giving his wrists rope burn, so he was relieved when Alice came over to them and knelt down to set them free.

  “Are you hurt?” Her face was worried and kind, and Phillip thought that if the Nazi was right and Alice had been prettier when she was younger he might not have been able to look at her at all.

  “I’m all right,” Phillip said. “Do you think we’ll be able to catch up with him?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking over her shoulder at George. He was standing over the dead Nazi and staring at him blankly. “I’m just ready to get out of here. If we don’t catch him we can report him to the government when we get back to a radio.” She found the knot hidden in the rope and tugged at it, trying to loosen it. The rope was thick and her fingers small, though, and she frowned. “George,” she called. “George!” The doctor turned to them with his gun still in his hand and Phillip found himself really wishing he would put it down. Alice pointed at the rope. “I can’t get this undone, come help me.”

  “Right,” George said. He joined her at the urn and, to Phillip’s relief, put the gun back in the pocket of the jacket that Alice was still wearing. If there was one person in the room that wouldn’t go near it, it was her. George still seemed a little dazed but he went to work on the rope. Unfortunately he didn’t have much more luck than Alice and shook his head. “He must have had some sort o
f brute strength that he wasn’t letting on about,” he said. “We’re going to have to cut it.”

  “Do you still have your penknife?” Alice looked at Phillip hopefully and he nodded.

  “Sure. It’s in my pocket.”

  “Wonderful,” George said. He reached over and stuck his hand into Phillip’s pocket while the younger man stifled a sigh. If someone was going to be digging in his pocket he would have much rather wished it was Alice. George took out the penknife and started sawing through the rope.

  In spite of the beating it had taken earlier, the edge of the knife was still sharp and it quickly cut them free. Nadir and Phillip stood up and stretched, then waited while George checked the welts on Phillip’s wrists.

  “Alice,” he said, his voice regaining its usual curtness, “Let me see your bag.” She handed it to him and he took out some disinfectant and wet squares of gauze, which he used to clean Phillip’s wounds. It burned but he managed not to wince. “That should be sufficient until we get back above ground. I don’t think it will require any sort of bandaging.”

  “Thanks,” Phillip said with a nod, then looked at Nadir. “Now what?”

  “Now what?” Nadir looked over at the trishula, still laying on the ground. Phillip could see that he was avoiding looking at the body nearby. “I suppose we can take it.”

  Please reconsider, a voice that was none of theirs said. This temple was created to be a true place of rest. When it was built it was never dreamed that anyone would actually be able to enter. You are special, yes, and very brave. But I will ask you again to reconsider and leave my trishula be.

  The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, yet they all looked around as if they would be able to find the source. When they couldn’t, they simply looked at one another in amazement.

  I had hoped that my dreams would stop you, the voice continued in their silence. More superstitious beings had been dissuaded by them, yet you continued on. It is admirable and I am quite pleased in a way, though whether it was bravery or stubbornness I do not know. Know this, though. If you take my trishula out of here it may set in motion the destruction of the world. Museums will burn and blood will be spilled that makes what you have done in this temple as insignificant as a raindrop hitting an ocean. I have seen these things and more, and would protect you from them. You may leave here safely and return to the surface but my trishula is better off remaining in my hand.