The Atlantis Keystone

by Caroline Väljemark

  “This message concerns you, or more specifically your friend Erik.” Emma’s heart jumped at the mention of Erik. She had no idea what could have happened to him, whether he was alive, injured or where he was. She could see Laura’s eyes light up. The ambassador continued: “The good news is that he’s alive. He was found injured but has been taken to hospital and is being treated for a concussion. The note does not give any details of the severity of the injury. When things have calmed down, perhaps tomorrow, you can go to the hospital to find out more.”

  It had been a long day. Both Emma and Laura were exhausted. They had been offered a room at the Embassy, an offer which they gladly accepted even though they still had their hotel room from a couple of days ago in another part of Beirut. The beds turned out to be uncomfortable but they were both grateful for the hospitality. It was simply not yet safe for westerners to wander the streets. Despite this, they were the only night-guests at the Embassy. The violence around the central district of Beirut had continued and they had not had another update. The Embassy had released a recommendation to all British nationals to leave Beirut. Emma had discussed this with Laura and they had agreed that they would both remain in the city until Erik was well enough to travel. At that point they didn’t have an idea of how long that was likely to take.

  As soon as Emma’s head hit the pillow, her thoughts went to Paul. She did not have a clue where he could have escaped to. Having heard the whole story she suspected that the most likely answer was that he had left the country. Thinking back, Emma had slowly started to realise how strange Paul’s behaviour had been, in particular after Erik’s phone call with the news of the capture of the Torpa burglar earlier that day. The way he had led them straight into the danger zone was a bit peculiar but he may genuinely have been unaware of what was going on and where the riots were likely to take place. They had all been in the dark at that point and it was not unreasonable to believe that Paul had also been so. Emma pictured him, crossing the Mediterranean Sea, being chased by Swedish police officers. Europol may even have become involved to aid a European-wide search. She had no idea where he was likely to go; the UK was not an option. She speculated that he may have gone back to Crete or Athens but immediately dismissed that possibility on the basis that it would be too obvious if he knew that they were on to him. She simply could not believe he had done it; it made no sense and was very unlike him… A few minutes later, Emma fell asleep.

  SEVENTEEN

  What do you mean ‘he has not yet woken up’?” Laura was close to tears again. “Are you saying that he’s in a coma?”

  “All I’m saying is that it could be another day or so until he recovers enough to gain consciousness. We see no reason why he won’t make a full recovery. It should be fairly rapid once he wakes up but that could take a little while”. The words from the doctor, in flawless English, were comforting.

  “Thank you. That’s a relief.” Maybe because of the anticipation of their hospital visit, the relief upon finding out that Erik would recover fully or simply the stress of the previous day, Laura broke down in violent tears as soon as they left the hospital building.

  “I… am… sorry, I just need a minute”, she said between snivels. Emma put her arm around her and led her to the hospital entrance stairs where they sat down. As an extra precaution, they both wore headscarves, both fairly modern looking. Emma’s was white with gold stripes and Laura’s a light green. The British Embassy clerk had bought them especially, a gesture which they had both been touched by. The street in front of them had a steady stream of traffic and the pavement was full of people of all ages. As they sat there on the stairs, protecting their identity for fear of attack, Emma realised how much she missed England, Paul, and their innocent existence in Oxford. She would have done anything to go back in time to before all this had happened. Maybe she should not have gone looking for the tablet. Perhaps that had been the first step in a series of events culminating in a chain reaction forcing Paul to commit a crime. No, she could not blame herself for what he had done. At that moment Emma suddenly came to a realisation, one which she should have reached much sooner.

  “What’s the matter”, Laura asked, “You stirred”.

  “Nothing, just hungry I guess. My stomach’s growling.” She had never been very close to Laura and it didn’t seem right to discuss Paul with her but her genuine look of concern, mixed with her teary eyes made Emma change her mind. She continued: “In fact, I just realised that ever since August last year, for nearly six months, Paul may have known what was in that chest; the Torpa chest which we glimpsed through a camera inside the space in the wall before the break-in! If our theory was right, he could have had the entire Torpa tablet, the other half of the keystone, for the last six months! He could have been working away at deciphering Linear A without telling me! He used me and kept me in the dark about any discovery that he might have made! He lied to my face! He knew how important the deciphering of Linear A was to me, yet he kept it to himself! For all I know, he might even have cracked the code by now! He committed a crime and for what? We would have got that wall opened eventually, I’m sure!” Now it was Emma’s turn to be tearful, although she felt silly crying and tried her best to stay calm. She stood up and started walking. Laura followed.

  “I believe he used us all,” Laura said looking absent-mindedly in the other direction.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that, thinking about it, he may have used me and Erik too. Why did he even ask me to choose Atlantis as the topic of my dissertation? Why did he ask me to come to Crete? The tablet clearly conveys some interesting messages. If Paul actually does possess the Torpa tablet, he would not only have had access to the keystone to decipher Linear A. He would also have been able to read the text of the other side of the tablet! He would have known what the tablet said in its entirety.”

  “What makes you think that he would’ve wanted us to think about the story of the tablet?” Emma was confused.

  “You probably don’t know this, and I certainly didn’t realise it until now but Paul seems to have left certain hints for us to follow. It is possible that the tablet revealed something of great interest. Because he had committed a crime to get the tablet in his possession he could of course not reveal the message to anyone. That would basically have incriminated him. Instead, he may have decided to use his students, and Erik as it turned out, to somehow work it out or to conduct research for him.” At that stage Laura had dried her tears and was almost back to her normal self. Emma had done the same but she had exchanged her sadness for anger – at Paul. They were walking slowly down a busy street without paying attention to where they were going.

  “What sort of hints?”

  “For starters, he left a message in a book and basically displayed it to Erik. It talked about a treasure in Athens. In Athens Erik realised that the treasure which Paul had referred to was actually the Mycenaean Gold collection at the Archaeological Museum in Athens. In the last few weeks, he has also been talking about the links between the Minoans and the Egyptians. You then found the name ‘Tetisheri’, the name of an Egyptian queen, on a Linear A item. At the same time, I was obviously working on my dissertation, reading up on Atlantis. My visit to Santorini, which revealed ancient remains from the period just before the Thera eruption, also helped to familiarise myself with the era when the tablet was likely to have been inscribed, all in line with what Paul had intended. He then made sure that Erik and I were talking and putting our theories together. I have to say, I think he succeeded in his plan – I think I have worked out what Paul wanted us to realise!”

  “What are you saying? Have you come up with some sort of theory, something which you think the tablet may have revealed to Paul? Something about Atlantis?”

  “Yes, I believe so”. Laura said it with a smile. “But I won’t tell you the whole story until Erik is conscious. He deserves to hear it first.”

  For a moment they both seemed to forget that they were openly
walking down a street in Beirut only a day after the violent demonstrations directed specifically at Westerners had ripped apart the city. The sun was shining and the streets were bustling with life, the buildings around them were modern and plenty of contemporary shops were open for business. Emma was surprised at the number of business people walking the streets. This was a modern city; not the war-ridden bullet infested place she had seen on television during the many gruelling years of civil war. Sure, there were still many traces of violence scattered around and the signs from the day before were still in full view but for the first time Emma looked at the city with optimism. She hoped that it had a brighter future ahead. She recalled the years of pointless fighting in the nineteen seventies and eighties and the perennial return of violence thereafter. What had it really been about, she asked herself.

  They decided to have some lunch in a random modern and friendly looking café. They had only just ordered when something happened outside. The bang was so loud that the windows appeared to shake and a few moments later they heard people screaming and many rushed past them in panic. An older woman was half limping, half crawling by. Her skirt had blood stains and although she didn’t appear injured herself, the limping presumably pre-existing, someone else clearly had been, and badly at that.

  “Oh my god, what’s happening? That’s it, I’m getting out of here,” Laura said.

  “No wait, it’s dangerous, we should stay here. It’s probably another car-bomb. It’s safer than walking around for the time being.”

  “I know, I don’t dispute that. I meant I’m getting out of Beirut, as quickly as I possibly can. I simply can’t stand it anymore. I don’t fancy coming back to England in a coffin, thank you very much! I know we should wait for Erik to wake up but I’m sure he would prefer to see me alive rather than dead! This is not a good place for us Emma!”

  Emma knew she was right. She knew they should follow the recommendations of the UK Government and leave Beirut, leave the risk zone, leave Erik but Emma hesitated for two reasons. She was aware that it was completely irrational but she was still half expecting Paul to come back and proclaim his innocence – and she wanted to be there if he did. She also wanted to be there for Erik when he woke up. She was his friend and he had risked his life for her…

  EIGHTEEN

  The small heart-shaped figures were dancing on his right arm, tickling him. They started to annoy him but he tolerated them as they were smiling happily at him as they were doing their routine. When they started to move towards his face, he had had enough and with a stern voice he ordered them to leave. He tried to shake them off but to Erik’s alarm he could not move his arm. At that moment he realised that he also was not able to move his legs. In fact, he could not move at all. He could hear his own pathetic scream the second he regained consciousness. It was echoing around the room, bouncing up and down the walls, hitting the numerous bystanders surrounding him.

  “He is waking up”, were the first words he could hear. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see only two vexed looking individuals next to his bed. There was light coming from the two windows on the opposite side. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness he observed Emma. A nurse adjusted something on his arm. He was lying on a bed in a fairly large room with a number of other occupied beds surrounding them, one with an old strange looking man screaming something apparently abusive in Arabic. It was immediately clear to him that they were still in Beirut. This gave him a strange feeling of relief as he saw that as a sign that he had not been unconscious for too long. The nightmare of the moments before the attack came back to him the second he glanced over at the screaming man. He was wondering what he was screaming about.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” His voice was weak and sounded pitiable.

  “Three days.” Emma said it so matter-of-factly he was almost insulted. He had not expected kisses but at least a hug, or a smile. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re alright. We’ve been worried sick”, she said smiling mildly. That was more like it he thought. She sat down on his bed.

  “Where are Laura and Paul?” He had suddenly noted their absence and instantly thought the worst.

  “Well, Laura flew home two days ago…” She fell silent. “There was a car bomb and…” she hesitated.

  “It’s ok, I understand. And Paul?”

  “Well…” She mumbled something in Arabic and signalled at the nurse to leave them. She leaned closer to him. “You were right.”

  “What about?”

  “About Paul, he’s wanted by the police for the Torpa break-in. The person he apparently hired to do it has finally talked.”

  There was silence between them. Erik felt a mixture of satisfaction and regret. He had known Paul was up to something but he knew how much this would be hurting Emma.

  “So, are you happy?” Emma asked a little sharply. “You got me. You were right. Paul was a thug after all.” She was suddenly getting upset with him. Erik found this a little annoying. It wasn’t his fault that Paul had done what he’d done!

  “I’m not in some sort of competition with you Emma. Yes, I may have been right about Paul but then…” No, he wasn’t going to say it. He had considered telling her that he had only noticed Paul’s strange behaviour because he was blinded by jealousy and that he had feelings for her but he decided against it. It wasn’t the time or the place.

  “Yes?”

  “..But then I had a lot of spare time to sit around and watch you all on Crete.” He looked into her eyes for a few moments and her facial expression softened. Tears started forming in the corner of her green eye.

  “Thank you for saving my life Erik. I must seem so ungrateful, sitting here berating you after you’ve been through so much.”

  “I would willingly have thrown myself in front of those thugs to save you if I had had to.”

  “Well, that’s basically what you did. If you hadn’t given me your scarf I would never have been able to walk across that square and I would probably not have been sitting here now. I would have been where you are, in a hospital bed, possibly dead.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. After that they fell silent. Emma looked into his eyes. She hesitated and then leaned over almost as if to kiss him again. At that moment her mobile, which she had finally managed to charge while at the embassy, started ringing.

  “It’s probably my mum again, pestering me with requests to fly home.” She struggled to find it for what felt like an eternity to Erik’s sore head. “Hello… Oh my god, where are you? … “

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  Emma was shocked to hear Paul’s crackly voice.

  “… You have to h.. lp me! I’ve been framed. You have to f..d the person… did this to ..e! I will send you …thing in the post.”

  “I will. I believe….” The phone at the other end died. Emma was confused. She knew that his behaviour had been very strange in the last couple of days but if he had been framed… it would mean that Paul may be an innocent victim. She wasn’t sure.

  “What did he say? Where is he?” Erik had understood who it was.

  “The line was very bad but I think I could make it all out. That he phoned from a pay-phone somewhere was obvious. His location wasn’t clear. He didn’t say where he was. He says he’s been framed and that he wants us to find the person who did it…” Emma deliberately looked at him as if to say ‘So you may not have been right about him after all!’

  “You believe him? You believe that he’s innocent?” Erik asked in surprise.

  “Of course I do!” she said sounding more convinced than she was. “He wants us to find the person who hired someone to break into your dear old Torpa.” The tone of her voice made Erik sure she had used the Swedish name of the house just to annoy him. “The person who indirectly caused the death of your grandmother and framed Paul, tarnishing his reputation as a respected and highly regarded professor! We need to clear his name, Erik. You need to help me!”

  “And if I don’t want to? Maybe
I believe it was him?”

  “Well, do you? Do you think he would waste our time, asking us to look for his enemy for no reason, knowing that he did it, that there is no other perpetrator?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised….” He looked away.

  Emma interrupted him and changed her tone of voice to something which she knew resembled begging. She felt in her heart that if Paul was innocent they would need to act swiftly. She had no intention of not helping Paul now – and she needed Erik on her side. “Erik, you’re my friend and I know I’ve used up all the favours I deserve from you but I need you and I would value your help in this. In fact, I could simply not do it without you. Please.”

  “Why on earth does Paul think that you and I could do this? Why does he put his life in our hands? We don’t know anything about his situation. In fact, if he has known anything about this before, he has certainly done a good job keeping us in the dark about it!”

  “I know Paul. He was probably just as surprised as you or I when he found out that he was wanted by the police. Conducting a break in would simply not occur to him. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone else he can trust. Or maybe he really thinks that we are best placed to solve this, given that we are the ones who know all about the background to the sad state of affairs, about the break-in, the tablet and everything else. You have to see that we are the obvious people for him to call! Who else could he call? His ageing mother? His suspicious university colleagues?”

  “The police!” Erik almost shouted and a couple of people in the hospital room turned their heads.

  “I’m sure he’s going to the police as well but what if they don’t believe him?” said Emma quietly. All evidence points to him. The burglar has even named him as the person who arranged the break-in. How can he argue with that without proof to the contrary?”