“What the hell’s that?”
“Orichalcum is a kind of fabled metal, described in a number of very old writings, most notably, the Critias Dialogue recorded by Plato. Orichalcum was considered second only to gold in value, and only ever found and mined in Atlantis. A vibrant orange in color, it was thought to be an alloy, containing a unique combination of gold, copper, zinc, iron and lead, with gold the highest percentage.”
She saw the pupils in Tom’s beautiful hazel eyes swell.
Few, she noticed, were immune to the allure of Atlantis. “If it was an alloy, can’t people simply mimic it?”
“No. What made Orichalcum so unique was that it wasn’t a manmade alloy, at all. Instead, it was a naturally occurring ore, which was mined. Despite knowing the mix, the alloy can’t seem to be reproduced, artificially. One theory is that volcanic activity molded the combination of raw materials into the unique alloy. This, in turn, has led many archeologists to search for Atlantis where ancient volcanoes are now submerged. But there has never been any real proof that it or Atlantis even existed – until now.”
*
Tom stared at her perfect face.
It was only for a couple seconds, but maybe, just too long. Billie, he decided, had the rare combination of an almost demure smile, perfect teeth, and brown captivating eyes. Right now, those eyes sparkled with excitement, making her even more attractive, if that were possible.
How such a face could harbor an intelligent mind yet explode with such offensive language simply baffled him. Nonetheless, he would have paid a very high price to kiss those lips again.
“Do you understand what this means?” Billie asked, stepping back. Tom reluctantly let go of her firm back.
“Hmm…That you’ll forgive Sam for dragging you away from Antarctica?”
“Yes. Wait, no. I’m still pissed as all hell about that. This means we just discovered something that’s been lost for more than two thousand years!”
Tom noted that she made no reference to the kiss. It was an accident, brought on by her excitement, and nothing more. Trying to focus on their discovery instead, he said, “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“We still have no idea where that looking glass has been taking us.”
She stopped looking, and looked back at him. “You’re right. But there must be some way to find out. I mean, it isn’t electronic. It’s just some form of translucent crystal. Atlantis must be close.”
“Are you sure?”
For the first time since he met her, Billie looked uncomfortable, as though there were a crack in her certainty. “Yes, of course. Why?”
“Because you told me that the map below showed images from Siberia through to Africa. Which means, apart from now seeing the image of that ruined city, we’re no closer to discovering it than the rest of the world in the past two thousand years.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said.
“How so?”
“Because we know that it’s real.”
*
The two spent the rest of the day exploring the thirteen ancient visions through the looking glass. Billie thought she must understand what Alice felt like when fell down the rabbit hole. Her entire world had changed in the space of a few hours. She had just about given up finding any more leads on the Master Builders, and was ready to return to the surface, when the discovery of the looking glass occurred.
It wasn’t until well past midnight that she finally went to bed. Unable to sleep, her mind kept returning to the events of the day.
The discovery would change everything.
She had hoped it would be there too, but despite looking throughout the entire map, there was no evidence of what she’d really been looking for.
The Lost City in the Clouds
Billie had been looking for it since she was just six years old. Ever since her grandfather first introduced her to the myth, but like him, she knew that it was real. One day she’d find it, but this tomb wasn’t going to provide that answer.
She put the thoughts out of her mind. So much had happened, and there was so much more that needed to be done.
And there was the kiss, too.
That, she thought, was a surprise. It was an accident, of course – she’d never mix business and pleasure. But it was unexpectedly nice, too.
In the sleeping bag a few feet away, Tom, despite lying down only minutes before, appeared to be sound asleep.
Figures…
She watched him for a while. She’d never seen someone sleep so soundly. She recalled his face after she’d kissed him. He almost looked hurt that she hadn’t mentioned anything about it afterwards, and then, like a gentleman, he carried on with the pretense that nothing had happened.
And nothing would happen…
It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She’d accepted long ago that the hunt for the Lost City in the Clouds had taken its toll on her social life. But that was expected for any woman trying to achieve something in the male dominated world of archeology.
She closed her eyes, and imagined herself kissing his boyish lips.
It was unexpectedly pleasant…
It would be nice to accidentally do it again…
What made the matter worse was her knowledge that she was the one who held the power in the relationship. Tom had already given away his hand – he wanted her, that was plain as day, in his pained face. The pained face that I caused him… But she did have the ability to change that. She could have anything she wanted.
And why shouldn’t I?
When she couldn’t find an answer to that question, Billie slid out of her sleeping bag. Being naturally warm blooded, she slept in nothing more than her underwear. Next to her were her cargo shorts, white shirt, and handgun. Her first instinct was to get dressed, but the sight of her weapon stopped her. She still hadn’t told him about it. Carefully, she concealed the weapon with her shirt, leaving all three on the ground, and walked towards Tom.
“You awake Tom?”
He made no response.
She stood up, and approached him, still uncertain what she wanted. It wasn’t until she saw his innocent, sleeping, face that she decided what she really wanted.
A girlish grin crossed her face as she realized what it was.
“That Motherfucker!” she swore loudly, forgetting what she was about to do.
Tom sat up instantly, looking as though he was ready to kill any intruder. “What?”
“Up there on the wall!”
He jumped up, grabbing the hammer next to him as a though it were a deadly weapon – and in his, it probably would be.
“I don’t see anything. What is it?” he whispered.
“It’s right there… the Mahogany Ship!”
Chapter Thirteen
At the entrance to the mine shaft, Sam looked at Frank’s serious face and said, “What if we were wrong about the coin having to come from further upstream?”
“No, that can’t be right. The coin didn’t travel on its own. The river would have been required to move it to where you found it. Therefore, the coin must have entered the river upstream, and then flowed over the centuries until it became imbedded in the soft, limestone sediment.”
“You’re right about the coin having come from further upstream, but what if the Mahogany ship continued sailing downstream, taking with it whatever treasures she was carrying?”
“Shit, you’re right!” Frank replied. “Why didn’t we think of that? Of course, the water level has been changing heights over the centuries. If the Mahogany ship somehow entered the water system, it’s conceivable that it then sailed silently further downstream, until it reached a point where its size precluded it from further movement.”
“It’s hard to imagine a ship of that size moving through a cave system at all, but the tunnel would be large enough.”
“Would it?” Frank asked.
“I’m sure it would.”
Frank open
ed the computer documents containing known measurements of each of the tunnels. Pointing to the only exit tunnel, he said, “No, it’s only forty feet high. There’s no way anything as large as what the Mahogany Ship was described as could possibly get through there.”
“Unless its masts were destroyed?”
“Even then, would the thought of a forty-foot ship sound like the description that the survivors of the Emily Rose gave of the Mahogany Ship?”
“No, but would you trust the description of a bunch of starving survivors to provide an accurate account of the ship?”
Raising his left eyebrow, Frank countered, “I would have been surprised if they all gave the same inaccurate one.”
Sam paused his speech for just over a moment. He knew he had the right answer, but just didn’t quite know how to prove it.
His eyes then lit up.
“No, I know what happened. It’s so obvious – I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier. Come on, we have work to do.”
*
An hour later, Sam and Frank were standing at the diving platform inside the Mahogany Cavern. Their equipment checked and then rechecked, they were about to put Sam’s theory to the test.
Opening his dive tank to full, Sam said, “A similar thing happened with the Magdalena – a lost airship from World War II, filled with Jewish treasure. The silt had built up over the years until she was sitting high and dry.”
“But the tunnel’s still below the waterline,” Frank replied.
“Yes, but I realized what the movement of silt could do in 75 years, then in the 200 years since the Mahogany Ship was last seen above ground, the size of that tunnel could have changed extensively.”
“You seem pretty certain of yourself.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make sense of all of this. It’s the only explanation.”
Sam then placed the mask over his face, and pin dived into the water below. The two Seadoos were tied up, just below the work platform. He waited for Frank to follow and start the little electric motor on the Seadoo, and then took off in the direction of the flowing water.
It only took a couple minutes to reach the entrance to the downstream tunnel. For the first time since he arrived, Sam noticed that it appeared to form an incomplete semicircle, imagining just how large it could be if that circle had been allowed to be completed.
He drove his Seadoo to the base of the tunnel’s entrance. The sand was deep. It would take weeks to dig it out to know for sure, but it certainly looked like the depth of the tunnel could be doubled if the sand were removed.
“How far have you traveled down this tunnel?” Sam asked.
“We haven’t. We all thought that the Mahogany Ship could have never gotten this far.”
“All right, here’s to hoping that she lies on the other end of this tunnel.”
Sam then drove his machine into the tunnel, his powerful LED headlight shining on the long passage ahead. The flow of the water was stronger, having been fed by the other five upstream channels. He was glad that he was using his motorized Seadoo and doubted very much that he could swim against the current if he had to. In the back of his mind, something told him that he should have run a safety line, but he was too eager to know the truth.
Nearly an hour later, Frank drove towards him, “Sam, how much further do you want to go?”
“Until we reach the Mahogany Ship,” Sam replied.
“Are you sure? We haven’t set up for a prolonged dive.”
“Yes.”
Sam continued, at full speed.
Frank asked, “Don’t you want to stop and search the areas that we’ve already covered?”
“No. If it’s here, we’ll see her.”
Sam looked down at the energy marker on his Seadoo. It was reading orange. He had plenty of power left. A little more than half what he started the day with, but the return trip, against the current, was going to exhaust a lot more power.
He continued, driven on by the mad desire to find the fabled ship.
Frank tapped on his dashboard and said, “Sam, this is it. We have to turn around, or you and I are going to have a pretty bad day, and one hell of a swim back.”
Sam looked at his own power monitor. It had moved further towards the left than he’d expected. Maybe, he’d travelled further than he thought. He would have to turn around.
“Okay, you turn around. I just want to see what’s beyond this bend.”
Frank shook his head. “No, we go together or not at all.”
“Suit yourself, Frank. We go together then.”
“And then, no matter what, we turn around?”
“Agreed,” Sam replied.
The dark tunnel appeared to narrow again, giving Sam the worry that he’d been wrong again. No ship could have travelled through such a narrow section. The speed of the current increased again, and the height of the tunnel dropped so much that he had to lean forward to stop his head hitting the ceiling.
As the pull from the powerful current gripped him, Sam realized his mistake. He was never going to make it back against this sort of river flow. Then he came around the corner, and forgot about all his concerns.
In front of him, were the remains of the Mahogany Ship.
*
Sam could only see part of the bow of the ship, but even that much of it indicated how enormous the grand vessel once was. The stern and main compartments were entirely buried in sand and river silt. Instantly, he realized the reason for the narrowing of the tunnel – the Mahogany Ship had become lodged ahead, and over the last two centuries, become filled with sand and rocks, until the tunnel became nearly completely blocked.
The bow itself was raised above the waterline.
“My God, we found it!” Frank said.
“Of course we did.”
“I never doubted you, mate.”
“Come on, Frank, now that we’re here, we may as well explore it,” Sam said, dragging his Seadoo up on the submerged sandy beach.
Frank nodded his head and followed.
Just before the waterline Sam saw the damage. The gash in the massive hull appeared unnatural. As though a single rock had torn through her hull at that precise location, leaving the rest of the beautiful ship unscathed. Sam gave it minimal thought before proceeding to enter through it.
“Are you certain it’s the Mahogany Ship?” Frank asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Sam swam through the dark hull, and past the old ladders, until he reached a cabin above the waterline. Carefully bracing himself on the inner deck, Sam expected its timbers to crumble beneath his weight, but the rare, blackened wood remained strong as steel.
He was certain that it wasn’t mahogany, but that didn’t matter. Nothing in the notes from the survivors of the Emily Rose, ever determined that it was indeed made out of mahogany, only that it was a blackened wood, unfamiliar to them all.
Against his better judgement, Sam climbed the ladder and stood on top of the now dry inside cabin. It was dark, and the wood seemed unnaturally sound. He removed his facemask and breathed the stale air.
Frank looked at him, waited another minute, before shrugging his shoulders and removing his facemask too. “This ship is hundreds of years old. You sure it’s going to take our weight?”
“No clue, but she seems pretty strong to me.” Pointing his flashlight to the walkway leading towards the aft of the ship, Sam said, “Shall we?”
“All right, but if this thing starts to break apart, I’m going to be out of here before you can stop me.”
“Agreed.”
Sam walked confidently over the sturdy floorboards. He’d already guessed why they were in such a good condition, but all the same, he knew he should have been more circumspect about exploring the ancient wreck. They looked down several openings in the walkway. Each appeared empty, all evidence of the original occupants of the vessel now gone.
“Seems deserted,” Frank said.
“What di
d you expect, treasure?”
“Well, yes, actually. We did start this hunt with a gold coin. I kind of expected more of the stuff.”
Sam laughed. “Everyone assumes that sunken ships carry gold. In my experience, they normally carry rotten wood, and a myriad of sea life. Here of course, being fresh water, and in an area devoid of light, the ship is just an old ship, and nothing more. I hope Mr. Rodriguez isn’t too unhappy with his investment.”
“He’s a big boy. He’ll just be glad that we found her, but he’s keen to prove that she was Spanish, and would have been bloody heartbroken if you’d found something that suggested she was not.” Frank then looked a solid door at the end of the internal companionway. “What about that?”
“The door?”
The door looked more like something out of Fort Knox than a door on a ship. “Whoever built that wanted to keep something out.”
“Or something in?” Sam suggested.
Frank’s arms shook suddenly, like a cold shiver. The suggestion appeared to have triggered a nerve, Sam noticed. Then, shrugging the thought off, Frank said, “Nah, something like that there… was designed to keep something precious in. I’ve worked with enough gold in my time to know when I’m close to something of value.”
“We’ll see.”
Sam pushed on the door, but it wasn’t going to move. He kicked at it and received the same response.
There was a large keyhole, made of iron, in the middle of the door. The iron had well and truly rusted, leaving more of a hole than lock, which was large enough that he could see through to the contents of the other side of the door.
In an instant, he saw it.
“Holy shit. That’s a lot of gold.”
*
Sam paused, studying how the door connected to its frame. Despite the keyhole, the whole thing appeared to be completely molded to the frame surrounding it, as though a team of carpenters were required to open it.
And perhaps there once were?
“You want a hand with that door?” Frank asked.
“Sure, what’ve you got in mind? I don’t think even the two of us would have any hope in knocking it down.”
Bringing out a diamond tipped angle grinder, Frank replied, “This.”
The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2) Page 12
