The Midas Legacy

by Andy McDermott

  But it had not been his only record.

  Further discoveries had led the IHA’s archaeologists to believe that Talonor – a military leader as well as an adventurer – had compiled a second volume, the so-called Secret Codex. Rather than an account intended to impress the citizens of Atlantis with epic exploits in far-off lands, this was for the empire’s rulers alone, written with a potential conqueror’s eye: the strengths and weaknesses of the peoples Talonor had encountered, their riches and resources that could be plundered.

  And it seemed that it had now been found.

  Eddie moved closer. ‘He’s a bit smug.’ The lean-faced man had a definite smirking curl to his lips.

  ‘Well, when you’re one of the greatest explorers in all recorded history, you’re allowed to be pretty pleased with yourself,’ Nina told him. ‘The book – it looks like he’s holding it, rather than it being a part of the statue?’

  Eddie’s gloved hand appeared on the monitor, brushing silt off the golden fingers. ‘Yeah, it’s a separate thing. You want me to pick it up?’

  ‘No!’ both Nina and Blumberg cried simultaneously, Cellini joining in the chorus from the ocean floor. ‘We need to photograph and catalogue everything first,’ she went on. ‘I know it’s been a while, but you remember the drill, surely?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d forgotten the boring parts,’ he replied.

  ‘None of this is boring!’

  ‘Different strokes, love.’ Cellini’s camera on another screen revealed that the Yorkshireman’s smirk was as wide as Talonor’s; he was trying to wind her up. ‘I’ll have a poke around while Nerio’s taking pictures, then. Don’t worry, I don’t literally mean poke.’

  Blumberg gave Nina a disapproving look. ‘He does know what he’s doing, trust me,’ she said. ‘After I beat it into him.’ A faint mocking snort came from the seabed.

  Cellini took a camera from his case and started to photograph the chamber. Blumberg switched the main screen to show the view from his shoulder cam as he worked. ‘This is amazing,’ said Nina, her knowledge of the ancient Atlantean language letting her pick out some of the words on the walls. They appeared to describe the lands the explorer had visited. The map was almost certainly a chart of his travels, then. ‘Talonor’s secret records chamber, still preserved after all this time.’

  ‘It’s incredible that anything survived at all,’ said Blumberg. ‘First Atlantis sinks, then a ship demolishes the temple . . .’

  She ignored the hint of blame aimed at her for the latter. ‘But there it is. Thank you for letting me be a part of this, Lester.’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, somewhat dismissively. ‘Although there was only one route to follow down there, so we didn’t actually need a guide at all.’

  Now she made her annoyance plain on her face, but before she could come up with a spiky rejoinder, another low rumble echoed over the loudspeakers. ‘What was that?’

  Eddie felt it directly. ‘The room just shook.’ The floor had quivered beneath his feet, enough to unsteady him.

  Cellini looked about in alarm. ‘Earthquake?’

  ‘No, mate,’ said Matt. ‘I’ve got readings from the seismic relays around the site. That was local, just in the temple.’

  ‘If something was dislodged by the explosion, the change in the current might be affecting it,’ suggested Blumberg.

  ‘Oh, great, so it’s going to fall down on us?’ Eddie started for the tunnel. ‘Come on, Nerio, time to go.’

  ‘In a minute,’ said the Italian. ‘I have to photograph this first.’ He approached the statue.

  ‘What is it with archaeologists?’ Eddie asked the universe in general. ‘Look, if that big statue outside drops by even a couple of inches, we’re not getting out of here! Forget taking pictures – just take the real thing.’ He reached past Cellini and tugged the volume from Talonor’s golden hands. It was heavy, its pages thin sheets of inscribed metal.

  ‘Eddie!’ Nina protested. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘It’s going to be taken out of here anyway, innit? I’m just saving some time—’

  Another rumble, louder than before – and the whole chamber shuddered. Dust and silt dropped from between the ceiling’s stone slabs, forming ghostly stalactites in the water.

  ‘That was not me,’ Eddie said firmly, glaring at the statue. ‘That was a coincidence, not a booby trap!’

  Cellini gave him a worried look. ‘You are right. We should go!’

  Both men launched themselves at the exit, using their suit thrusters to power down the passage before stopping at its end. Eddie squatted to check their escape route. It was still clear. ‘Okay, you go first,’ he told Cellini.

  The Italian shook his head. ‘No, you first! We have to get the Secret Codex out of here.’

  ‘Your life’s worth more than some book. And so’s mine, for that matter!’ But Eddie could tell the young man was not going to change his mind. He had seen the same attitude often enough in his wife. ‘Oh, for— All right!’ He threw the Codex as hard as he could into the low crawlspace. It spun through the water, skidding to a halt about ten feet in. ‘I’ll push it through ahead of me. As for you, you’d better be right behind!’

  He dropped to his belly and pulsed the thrusters to move himself into the passage. Cellini took hold of his feet to push him onwards. When he reached the Codex, he shoved it along the narrow tunnel. A faint drumming reached him through the water. He put his fingertips to the ceiling. The statue was trembling.

  Above him, he saw scrapes in the gold where the deep suits had ground against it. He rolled slightly to give himself as much clearance as possible. ‘Nerio, I’m almost at the tight bit. Let me line up before you push me through.’

  The Italian released his ankles. Eddie shuffled across to bring himself into what he hoped was the right alignment. ‘Okay, now!’

  Cellini pushed him again. The scrapes passed above his head . . . then the suit jarred against the ceiling, stopping him dead.

  ‘Push harder!’ he barked, trying to hold back his rising panic – not simply because he was caught, but also because now that he was in direct contact with the statue, the shudder was being transmitted into the hard body of his suit. It was an irregular pulsing thump, like a door banging in the wind, only something much bigger and heavier.

  Whatever it was, it was getting worse.

  He scrabbled at the floor with both hands as Cellini strained to force him through. His fingers brushed the Codex. He angrily pushed it away, wriggling and twisting as the ominous drumbeat grew louder—

  A rasp – and suddenly he was free. Cellini released his legs. He kicked, the fins driving him forward. Another shove of the Codex, then he fired the thrusters to bring himself to the base of the stairs. ‘I’m out!’ he said, turning to look back into the cramped passage.

  ‘What about the Codex?’ asked Cellini.

  ‘The stupid thing’s here, don’t worry. Hurry up, your turn!’

  He aimed his light down the tunnel. Cellini was edging towards the lowest point beneath the statue. ‘A bit to the right,’ Eddie told him. ‘That’s it. Keep on coming, you can do it . . .’

  The young man reached the clench point, his suit knocking against the ceiling. ‘I can’t fit!’

  ‘Yeah, you can,’ Eddie replied, trying to sound reassuring. ‘Just roll a bit and you’ll be able to get your air tanks through. Trust me,’ he added with a smile.

  Cellini nervously followed the instructions. ‘That’s it!’ said Eddie. ‘Come through, now!’

  The Italian advanced. This time, the suit’s carapace slipped beneath the obstruction, grinding against it as he squirmed forward—

  Another deep rumble echoed through the water. The floor jolted – and displaced silt erupted through the passage as the great statue shifted.

  Eddie fe
lt as if he was inside Big Ben when the bell struck noon, a colossal metallic boom pounding him. Ears throbbing, he tried to hold himself in position. His vision was reduced almost to nothing by the swirling cloud. ‘Nerio! Nerio, are you okay?’

  No answer.

  The reason wafted past him a moment later, a tiny point of blue light in the murk – the broken end of the Italian’s fibre-optic cable.

  ‘Eddie!’ said Blumberg. ‘We’ve lost contact with Nerio! What’s happening?’

  ‘His comm line’s snapped,’ Eddie replied. ‘The statue moved.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ said Nina. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, but Nerio was right under it, and I can’t see anything!’ He groped until his fingers found the metal ceiling. There was still a gap underneath it, but how far had it dropped? An inch would trap Cellini – and anything more would crush his suit. At this depth, even the smallest breach would instantly kill its wearer.

  Blumberg spoke again, but Eddie shouted him down. ‘Quiet, quiet! Everyone shut up – I need to listen.’ He waited for the radio chatter to cease, then called out Cellini’s name.

  All he could hear was the background hiss of his suit’s air supply. ‘Nerio!’ he yelled again. ‘Can you hear me?’

  Still nothing, then . . .

  ‘Eddie!’ The voice was faint, reaching him through two thick acrylic bubbles and several feet of silt-choked water, but the Italian was alive. ‘Help!’

  ‘I can hear him!’ Eddie reported. ‘I’m going back into the tunnel.’

  ‘You might get stuck too,’ said Nina in alarm.

  Blumberg joined in with a warning of his own. ‘Eddie, if the statue shifts again, you could both be killed!’

  ‘I can’t leave him behind,’ Eddie said firmly. He pulled himself back into the cramped tunnel. ‘Nerio, I’m coming! Keep talking, let me know where you are!’

  Cellini’s voice grew louder. ‘I’m here, I’m here! My radio is out!’

  ‘I know, your line snapped. Stretch your hands out. I can’t be far from you.’

  Eddie looked ahead. The water was still an opaque soup . . . then it started to swirl. ‘I’m almost there,’ he said. ‘Keep waving!’

  Something flicked through the gloom, stirring up suspended silt. A moment later it moved back: Cellini’s gloved hand. Eddie grabbed it. ‘Mi hai trovato!’ gasped the Italian.

  ‘Still got to get you out of there,’ Eddie cautioned. ‘I’m going to try to pull you. Are your thrusters working?’

  ‘Yes, but they did not help.’

  ‘We’ll have to use brute force and ignorance, then. Usually works!’ He gripped Cellini’s wrist, using his other hand to take his own suit’s control stalk. ‘Okay, you ready? Start ’em up!’

  Both sets of thrusters whined to full power. Eddie backed up, but halted again almost immediately as his arm reached full stretch, straining to pull the Italian. ‘Are you moving?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Cellini replied. ‘I . . . I hear the suit rubbing on the statue, but – no, no!’ Excitement filled his voice. ‘I can see the floor, I moved!’

  ‘That’s great!’ Eddie growled, tugging at him. ‘Keep it up—’

  Another rumble shook the temple – and a sharp crack came from his suit’s fibreglass back as the statue pressed down hard upon it.

  He froze in fear, but no explosive inrush of water hit him. The section of casing covering the air tanks was cosmetic streamlining rather than structural. It had split under the weight, but the pressurised body had not been damaged.

  Yet. If the statue dropped any lower, it would crush the shell like an egg—

  An idea came to him. He twisted to test it, and found that even though the suit was still graunching against both floor and ceiling, he had slightly more freedom of movement. ‘Nerio!’ he yelled. ‘Back up, as far as you can! You need to hit the ceiling harder!’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Blumberg demanded.

  Cellini was equally bewildered. ‘But the suit will break!’

  ‘I know, I know – but if the back breaks, it doesn’t matter! It’s just a cover! If you flatten it, you’ll be able to fit through.’

  ‘Eddie, that’s crazy,’ said Blumberg, but the Englishman ignored him – and to his relief, so did Cellini. The Italian withdrew, Eddie letting himself be pulled deeper into the tunnel until he jammed against the statue.

  ‘All right,’ he called. ‘Are you set?’

  ‘Yes!’ came the reply.

  Eddie restarted his thrusters at full power. ‘Now!’

  He lunged backwards, pulling Cellini with him – and the younger man slammed against his confines. There was a sharp snap of splintering fibreglass. ‘Keep going, keep going!’ Eddie shouted. He pulled Cellini’s arm. ‘You’re moving!’

  Another crack – and Cellini broke free, rushing forward with such force that he almost collided head-on with Eddie. The Englishman shoved himself backwards, swinging around as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The water was less murky here, letting him see the archaeologist’s smile of relief as he emerged. His suit’s back had been flattened, spears of broken casing jutting out like porcupine quills. But the tanks inside were still intact. ‘You saved me! Thank you, thank you!’ He moved as if to embrace the Englishman.

  ‘We’re not out of here yet,’ Eddie reminded him. ‘Get to the top, fast!’

  ‘But the Codex—’

  ‘I’ll get it!’

  ‘And I lost the camera—’

  ‘Just go! God, bloody archaeologists!’

  Cellini’s thrusters surged and propelled him up the staircase. Eddie was about to follow, but decided – with aggrieved reluctance – that a promise was a promise. He flailed his fins until one touched something straight-edged on the floor. He grabbed the heavy book, then started after the Italian at full speed—

  A rushing current swept past him as a stone slab fell into the space where he had just been.

  His arm grazed a wall as he was thrown off course. He corrected, looking ahead to see Cellini passing over the rubble pile. The Englishman followed, manoeuvring the bulky Codex ahead of him.

  The first barricade lay above, Cellini squeezing into the opening above the broken slab. The Italian’s damaged suit bashed against the ceiling in his haste, clipping shards off the casing. He backed up to try again. More loud booms came from below. Eddie looked back.

  A roiling wall of silt was surging up the tunnel. After ten years, the overturned statue had finally hit the floor, forcing the water beneath it out along its only escape route – straight at the two fleeing men. ‘Go, go!’ he yelled, shoving Cellini on before powering through the narrow space after him.

  A dull whump as the shock wave hit the barrier, dislodging the broken block – followed by louder crunches as the ceiling gave way and fell into the tunnel.

  Cellini was a human torpedo just ahead of Eddie, the turbulence from his thrusters buffeting the Yorkshireman. Lights rose ahead, the altar room coming into view—

  They burst into open water as the churning wave hit and sent them both tumbling. The Codex slipped from Eddie’s hands. Blinded by the silt, all he could do was let himself be carried along and hope he wasn’t on a collision course with the surrounding masonry.

  He gradually slowed and kicked upright, restarting the propellers to rise out of the swollen mass of sediment. The circle of lights returned to view, now broken where some had been knocked over.

  ‘Eddie!’ A voice in his ear: Matt. ‘Can you hear me?’

  ‘Yeah, I can,’ he replied, recovering his breath. The submersible was some way above him, directing its lights downwards. ‘Can you see Nerio?’

  A tense pause, then: ‘I got him! Lower than you, off to your left.’

  Eddie caught sight of the other diver’s lights. ‘He looks o
kay.’

  ‘Thank God!’ exclaimed Nina. ‘What about you?’

  ‘My suit’ll need some filler to patch up the dents, but I’m all right.’

  She let out a relieved sigh. ‘Okay. I feel kinda bad asking this, but . . . what about the Secret Codex?’

  ‘I dropped it, but it’s around here somewhere. When the water clears, we should be able to find it. Although,’ he continued with a sudden weariness, ‘to be honest, I’d rather get back up top. And Nerio probably would too.’ He looked towards his companion – only to see him descending back to the altar room. ‘Oh, you’re kidding me! He’s already gone to look for it. You archaeologists really are all as bad as each other!’

  ‘We can’t stop being who we are,’ Nina said, amused. ‘But you’re right, you should get topside. And back home! Macy missed you this morning.’

  ‘Let’s not tell her about the whole “Daddy almost died” part of the day, shall we?’

  ‘Yeah, probably best.’

  Matt cut into the conversation. ‘Hey, Eddie. Looks like Nerio found that book.’

  Eddie saw the Italian ascending with the Codex. ‘Great, we got the list of all the places where Talonor dug latrines. Now can we go? That’s more than enough archaeology for me.’

  Nina smiled at her husband’s complaints. ‘I’d be perfectly happy to keep going, but . . .’ She checked her watch, eyes widening. ‘Oh crap! It can’t be that late already!’

  ‘You haven’t missed picking Macy up from nursery, have you?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘No, but I need to get moving soon. Like, now.’

  ‘Okay, then I’ll talk to you when I’m at the airport. Which’ll be a while, seeing as I’ve got to get up to the ship and then take a chopper back to Portugal first.’

  ‘I’ll wait up. All right, I have to go. Love you.’

  ‘Love you,’ Eddie replied.

  She smiled again, then took off her headset microphone.

  ‘Well, thanks for coming in, Nina,’ said Blumberg.

  ‘No problem at all, Lester. If you need me for anything else, I’m more than happy to help. Although Eddie might be a bit reluctant! But if you want me to assist with the translation of the Secret Codex, I—’