by carl ashmore
Then blinding light stung her eyes.
Chapter 8
The Lost Scroll
Sweat glazing her brow, Becky stared at the bleached-white Time Room wall, her heart thumping so loudly she felt certain everyone could hear.
Uncle Percy flung open the driver’s door and leapt out. He raised his car keys to his mouth and spoke into the tiny microphone embedded within. ‘Barbie, could you join me in the Time Room, please?’ Before he had time to open the Cadillac’s rear doors, a flickering orb of light appeared to his right, growing in size, and, with a pop, Barbie materialized.
‘At your service, sir.’
‘Thank you, dear,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I was hoping you might do me a favour. Mary Cassidy has been hurt. I don’t think it’s serious, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Can you inform Doctor Aziz she will be with him in a moment or two; his time-pad coordinates are programmed into your data bank.’
‘Of course, sir.’ And in a blinding flash, Barbie disappeared.
Still disorientated, Becky exited the car, quickly followed by Joe, who looked both relieved and shaken in equal measure.
‘How the hell did Drake get a Megalodon to attack us?’ Joe asked Uncle Percy, who had moved to a workstation and was typing something quickly onto its keyboard.
Becky felt she knew the answer. With a shudder, she recalled the robot budgie that attacked her in the summer. ‘It was a Cyrobot, wasn’t it?’
‘It seems that way,’ Uncle Percy replied.
‘But it was as big as a plane,’ Joe blustered. ‘How could he make a Cyrobot out of something that big?’
‘Because he tried,’ Uncle Percy replied simply, returning to the car and offering his hand to the woman. ‘Let me help you out, Mary.’
‘Thank you, Percy,’ Mary said with a wince, her unsteady fingers finding the locket around her neck. ‘And thank you, Becky, I owe you my life.’
‘That’s okay,’ Becky replied softly.
‘Could you pass me a chair, please, Joe,’ Uncle Percy asked.
Joe grabbed a chair and set it behind the woman, who promptly sat down.
Uncle Percy dropped to his knees and examined Mary’s wound. ‘This looks bad, Mary, but Doctor Aziz will have you patched up in no time. Besides –’
The woman cast him a guilty look, the heavy bags beneath her eyes distended and swollen. ‘It was me, Percy.’
‘What was you, my dear?’
‘I’m the traitor...’ Mary’s lips quivered wildly as she struggled to shape each word. ‘You must have realised Drake had help tonight.’
‘I did wonder who placed the Hologram receiver in such a prime location; who gave him the coordinates to the party so he could place the Megalodon in that time-line. But don’t worry about – ’
‘I’m not worried,’ Mary interrupted. ‘He gave me no choice.’ Her body quivered. ‘He came to my house in the middle of the night … He dragged my beautiful Rufus from his bed. He put a bread knife to his throat and insisted I help him or he would skin Rufus alive. I know Rufus is only a dog, Percy, but he’s all I’ve got. He’s my baby. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, but I had no choice...’ She deflated like a punctured balloon as if the admission had drained her of every last bit of strength.
Uncle Percy cast her a sympathetic look. ‘Of course you didn’t.’
‘If anyone died tonight it’s because of me,’ Mary said. She looked at Becky. ‘You see, you should have left me there. I deserved it.’
Uncle Percy cupped her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. ‘My dear, dear woman. You did what any parent would have done. You protected your loved one. And, as far as I can see, every traveller and guest escaped without injury tonight, so you can’t afford to beat yourself up over what’s happened. Now, did he ask you to do anything else?’
‘No.’
‘Then all we have lost is a jolly good party.’
‘B-but I’m so scared, Percy,’ Mary stammered. ‘Emerson Drake is a maniac. And you heard him tonight, he’s waged war on the entire community.’
‘Then we’ll wage it back,’ Uncle Percy said firmly. ‘I understand you’re scared, and I’m sure you’re not the only one tonight. But I’m going to do something about it. I don’t know what yet, but if Emerson wants war, then that’s exactly what he’ll get…’
Becky and Joe traded stunned glances. They had never heard Uncle Percy sound quite so combative.
‘However,’ Uncle Percy continued, ‘in the meantime, I’d like to move you and Rufus from your home to a somewhat safer location, at least for the time being. Somewhere Emerson can’t find you. Would you let me do that?’
Mary nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly.
‘Good,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But for now, you should see Doctor Aziz. I’ll make all the necessary arrangements while you recover.’ He stood and walked over to a drawer, which he opened, pulling out what looked like a wristwatch with a strangely large dial speckled with tiny buttons.
Becky recognised it at once as a short-range portravella.
Uncle Percy secured it to Mary’s wrist. ‘Now I’d like you to stay with Doctor Aziz until I come and get you. Then we’ll collect Rufus and I’ll take you somewhere you don’t have to worry about Emerson Drake. Does that sound okay?’
‘Thank you, Percy,’ Mary said in a small voice. ‘It’s much better than I deserve.’
‘Nonsense. Now let’s just get that leg fixed.’ Uncle Percy smiled warmly at her. ‘And I won’t be telling a soul about any of what you’ve told me. We’re going to keep it our little secret, okay?’ He leaned over and input six digits on the portravella.
Overcome with emotion, Mary looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, her mouth curved into a half-smile and she watched silently as her hand was encased in a silvery light, which proceeded to spiral up her arm and over her body. With a pop, she disappeared.
Uncle Percy looked at Becky and his face creased into a mask of anger and bitterness. ‘Drake’s gone too far this time.’
Becky nodded. ‘D’you think he’ll carry out his threat and target the travellers?’
‘He’s certainly merciless enough to do it,’ Uncle Percy replied coolly. ‘But Emerson never makes a move without a reason, and what would it benefit him? No, I just think he wants the community to think he’ll target them - he wants to spawn a climate of fear. As Aristotle once said “Men are swayed more by fear than by reverence.”’
‘Well, I’m not frightened,’ Joe said resolutely.
‘Me neither,’ Becky agreed, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt.
Uncle Percy smiled. ‘Good.’
‘And what about the Spear of Fate?’ Joe said eagerly. ‘Are we going after it?’
Looking troubled, Uncle Percy gave a sigh that appeared to start at his toes and work its way up through his mouth. ‘I think that -’
Joe cut him down. ‘We have to get it before he does,’ he insisted. ‘That’s how to really hurt Drake.’
Becky fanned her hand dismissively. ‘Joe, this is the first we’ve heard of it. We wouldn’t even know where to start.’
Uncle Percy hesitated. ‘That’s not strictly true,’ he said, rather sheepishly. ‘I’ve known about the Spear for a month now…’
*
Becky looked shocked. ‘What? Why haven’t you told us about this before?’
‘We’re a part of this too, you know,’ Joe snapped.
‘I know, I know,’ Uncle Percy replied apologetically. ‘And I fully intended to, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone or via email. It seemed much better to wait and do it in person.’
‘And when were you planning on doing that?’ Becky snapped. ‘Just as we were tucking into our Christmas Dinner?’
‘I wanted to get the party out of the way first.’
‘Yeah, well Drake saw to that, so come on … what do you know about the Spear?’
Uncle Percy exhaled slowly. ‘In late November,
I was visited by Imran Musa, a Libyan traveller. He had an interesting theory about another potential Eden Relic, something he referred to as ‘The Spear of Fate.’ Now, Imran is a keen theologian, and is one of the world’s foremost experts on the Dead Sea Scrolls. Have you heard of them?’
‘No,’ Becky and Joe said simultaneously.
‘The Dead Sea Scrolls are amongst the most important archeological discoveries ever made. In 1946, a Bedouin shepherd found seven scrolls in a cave in Qumran. The surrounding caves were later searched and over eight hundred documents were found, dating from 200BC to around 70AD and written in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.’
‘What kind of documents?’ Becky asked.
‘Primarily religious, but a huge number also chronicled the social, judicial and political life of the time.’
‘And what’s that got to do with the Spear of Fate?’ Joe asked eagerly.
‘Well, by 1956, the Qumran caves were thought to be exhausted,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘However, what few people are aware of is that in 1957 another scroll was found in a cave about a mile away … a scroll later named The Sonchis Scroll. A scholar named Joseph Larac interpreted it and was astonished to find it was very different from the others. He was about to share his findings with the world when the scroll vanished.’
‘What happened to it?’ Joe asked.
‘No one knows for sure,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Larac was convinced it was stolen to be sold on the black market. Whatever happened to it, it’s certainly not been seen since.’
Becky was fascinated now. ‘You said the Sonchis Scroll was different from the others. How?’
‘Because it read more like a history book. A history book that recounted the birth of the Egyptian civilisation.’ The hint of a smile rounded his mouth. ‘And the demise of another many years before … a great civilisation … a civilisation unlike any the world had ever seen.’
‘What civilisation?’ Becky asked. ‘Have we heard of it?’
‘Almost certainly,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘You see, that same civilisation allegedly flourished on an island somewhere in the Atlantic - a culture that, according to the Sonchis Scroll, was more advanced than any that had gone before, and held the Spear of Fate as its most treasured possession.’
‘So what’s it called?’ Becky asked keenly.
Uncle Percy’s eyes glittered like opals. ‘Let’s just say the civilization in question was purportedly consumed by the ocean many years before recorded time, never to surface again – a civilisation that has forever been embedded into our collective imaginations as a place of mystery and wonder.’
Becky thought for a second. And then she remembered Drake’s words at the party as he overlooked the ocean bed: “A relic with a riveting history, and one quite in keeping ironically with our present locale….”
She took a long, juddering breath. ‘You’re talking about Atlantis,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re saying the Spear of Fate has something to do with Atlantis.’
‘I most certainly am…’
Chapter 9
At Last Atlantis
Time seemed to stop.
Becky gaped at Joe. She could tell from his expression he was thinking the same as her. Of all the unexplained mysteries in history, Atlantis was perhaps the most enigmatic, the most beguiling of them all.
‘So Atlantis did exist?’ Joe asked.
Uncle Percy nodded. ‘It seems so.’
‘Then what’re we waiting for?’ Joe asked, his eyeballs threatening to pop from his head. ‘Let’s jump back in the time machine and go and see it.’
‘It’s not as simple as that, Joe,’ Uncle Percy chuckled. ‘The Atlantic Ocean is forty one million square miles and covers approximately twenty percent of the earth’s surface. I wouldn’t have a clue where to start looking for it.’
‘But you’re sure it existed?’ Becky asked.
‘Imran Musa was convinced of it,’ Uncle Percy said simply. ‘And he convinced me. You see, although the Omega Effect, for some reason, prevented Imran from ever seeing the Sonchis Scroll for himself, he did interview Larac at some length. With a transcript of this interview, I began some investigations of my own.’
‘What did you find out?’ Becky asked.
Uncle Percy’s face ignited like a child’s. ‘Enough to make me believe in the existence of Atlantis.’
‘And what does the Spear have to do with all of this?’ Joe asked.
‘According to Larac’s interpretation of The Sonchis Scroll,’ Uncle Percy replied, ‘the Spear of Fate lay at the very heart of everything. Not only did the Atlanteans worship it as a deific symbol, but they believed it acted as a kind of battery that fed the island itself.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Becky said.
‘Larac said the Spear’s energy gave Atlantis its own bionetwork, its own ecosystem, its own unique, indigenous wildlife and vegetation. It also claimed that Atlanteans were …’ He hesitated. ‘Different from normal humans, stronger, brighter …’ His face darkened. ‘A master race, if you will. In short, The Sonchis Scroll said the Spear of Fate made Atlantis like nowhere else on Earth…’
Becky made an almost undetectable squeak as she tried to process Uncle Percy’s words.
Joe, on the other hand, didn’t look convinced at all. ‘It all sounds a bit Wacko Jacko to me.’
Uncle Percy looked baffled. ‘And by that you mean?’
‘Spuzzified, nutso, out there with the fishes.’
Becky could see Uncle Percy hadn’t a clue what Joe was getting at. ‘Farfetched,’ she clarified.
Uncle Percy smiled, but his face didn’t radiate happiness. If anything, he looked sadder than ever. ‘If you’d have said all this to me six months ago, I would’ve agreed wholeheartedly. Now, I don’t know what to think...’
‘So what did happen to Atlantis?’ Joe asked.
‘Who knows for certain,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But the Scroll claimed the Spear was stolen and smuggled away from the island, its absence causing a cataclysmic event which resulted in the island being destroyed forever.’
‘So what happened to the Spear? Joe asked impatiently.
‘Again, no one knows for sure. There have been rumours of a magical Spear appearing at various junctures in history, but it’s all just conjecture. Certainly, my investigations found nothing that could turn these ‘rumours’ into any tangible reality. Very soon, I realised I’d hit something of a brick wall. It was only when I visited Miriam Potts this afternoon that things began to piece themselves together.’
‘Why?’ Becky asked. ‘What things?’
‘I need to go to GITT HQ to check everyone’s returned safely, but meet me in one hour in Bowen Library and I’ll show you something that makes Miriam Potts just about the bravest person I’ve ever met.’
‘Why? What did she do?’ Becky asked.
Uncle Percy’s face fell into shadow from the strip light above. ‘You’ll see…’ He appeared to choose his next words very carefully. ‘However, there’s something I need you to do for me - whatever happens, you mustn’t let Maria know you’re going to the library, not at this time of night. As a matter of fact, it would be better if you don’t mention the library at all this Christmas. The last thing I want is her snooping around in there, and now she and Barbie are such good chums, I would be careful what you say to her, too.’
‘Why?’ Becky asked, confused.
‘Because I’m storing certain items in there that would make Maria very upset. Very upset, indeed.’
He paused for a moment.
‘Let’s be honest, if she knew what I’d got in there the shock would probably kill her…’
*
Goose bumps the size of eggs dotted Becky’s body, as she and Joe walked soundlessly along the path to the Hall, snow crunching beneath their feet. All around was oil-black now, but for the kitchen light, which glowed a deep, welcoming orange.
‘Crazy night, eh?’ Joe said.
But Becky didn’t hear him. Her mind was spinn
ing in all directions. Images of the last hour whizzed in and out of her head like bees in a hive: the revulsion she felt at seeing Drake’s Hologram; the Megalodon attack; the Spear of Fate; and the astonishing revelation about Atlantis.
It was all too much to take in.
There was no sign of Maria or Jacob as they passed through the kitchen and into the passageway that led to the Entrance Hall.
Before she knew it, Becky was lying on her bed, clutching her pillow to her chest and thinking about what Miriam Potts might have done to earn such a commendation from Uncle Percy.
It was 9.30 when she and Joe gathered at the library door. As always, the door to Bowen Hall library was locked.
As a far-off clock sounded the half hour, Becky heard a snapping sound from the other side of the door, which she recognised as a portravella. A moment later, a key turned in the lock, and the door opened to reveal Uncle Percy, a relieved smile on his face.
‘You’ll be pleased to know everyone is safe, and we’ve suffered no significant casualties – well, apart from Ermintrude Abbot’s glass eye which popped into a bowl of punch in the uproar, but she’s got plenty of others. Apparently, it happens all the time.’ Ushering Becky and Joe into the room, he swiftly locked the door again, before unclipping the portravella from his wrist and sliding it into his pocket.
Entering the library, Becky was surprised by the state it was in. She expected it to be coated in dust and smell of old socks, but this looked like a bombsite. At least a dozen whiteboards were scattered haphazardly across the vast floor, each one covered with writing, complex mathematical equations, Egyptian hieroglyphics, and other strange symbols she didn’t recognize; most notably, one board seemed to be taken up with multiple versions of the same pictogram: a giant wheel with a jet-black sun in its center. The central circular table was buckling under the weight of a tower of leather-bound books, old and new, and every inch of floor space was covered in flattened parchments and sandstone tablets with unusual markings etched into them.
