‘Almost done,’ Wizard answered. ‘We’ve got her weight down by a third, and all eight external retrograde thrusters have been attached and are testing well. As for the Mark 3s, they fit the 747’s existing engines beautifully—the balance on the Boeing is really quite exceptional, great for VTOL, if you have the fuel. Sky Monster and I will be doing some testing this Saturday, so wear your earplugs.’
‘Will do. Keep me informed.’
Lily didn’t know what they were talking about.
Oh, and Lily’s interest in ballet continued.
She put on many shows—shows that took place on a little stage with drawable curtains. Each performance was greeted with great applause by the whole team.
At one such show, Lily announced with a flourish that she would attempt to hold a difficult tip-toe pose for a whole minute. She made it to 45 seconds, and was bitterly disappointed.
Everyone applauded anyway.
As families do.
THE BLACK PRIEST OF KABUL
AIRSPACE ABOVE THE ATLANTIC OCEAN
17 MARCH, 2006
3 DAYS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF TARTARUS
Twelve hours after its brazen assault on Guantanamo Bay, after lying low in a remote Jamaican Air Force hangar outside Kingston— where it had picked up Wizard, Lily and Horus—the Halicarnassus, now refuelled and replenished, soared once again over the Atlantic, heading back toward Europe and Africa, back into the fray.
Once again, everyone sat in the main cabin, arrayed in a wide circle.
The focal point of the circle: Mullah Mustapha Zaeed, the Black Priest of Kabul.
Immediately after their escape from Guantanamo Bay, West had grabbed an AXS-9 digital spectrum analyser—a wand-like device used to sweep a room for bugs—and waved it over Zaeed’s body.
Sure enough, at the terrorist’s neck, the wand had gone berserk, beeping wildly, indicating that there was indeed a GPS locater microchip buried under Zaeed’s skin.
Surgery wasn’t necessary. West was able to neutralise the chip with an electromagnetic pulse from a disabling gun, turning the locater chip into a dead piece of plastic.
And so now Zaeed was here, in the main cabin—and while everyone gazed warily at the terrorist, he just stared straight at Lily.
He eyed her the way a hyena eyes an injured baby deer—with hunger, desire, and a kind of stunned disbelief that such a delightful meal could be right here in front of him.
His general appearance was frightening—despite the fact that he had been bathed and was now dressed in clean clothes.
With his shaved head, sharp stubble-covered chin, hollow eyes and wiry physique, he seemed more ghost than man, a walking skeleton. Three years of solitary confinement at Camp Delta will do that to you.
And in the clear light of the cabin, a peculiar feature became apparent: half of Zaeed’s left ear, the whole bottom half, the entire lobe, had been cut off.
The spell broke, and he scanned West’s multinational team.
‘Mmm. How interesting, how very interesting,’ he said. ‘The mice are roaring. Taking on the two lions of the world: Europe and America.’
He looked at Wizard. ‘I see Canada. And Ireland,’ he nodded at Zoe. ‘Fellow scholars of the ancient texts.’
His voice went low as he saw Stretch: ‘And I see Israel. Why Katsa Cohen, the master sniper, nice to see you again. The last time we met was in Kandahar, at 2,000 yards. And it was a rare miss on your part.’
Stretch scowled, showing his extreme distaste for Mustapha Zaeed.
Zaeed pointed at his half-ear. ‘You were a few inches wide.’
‘I won’t be next time,’ Stretch growled.
‘Now, now, Katsa. I am your guest, and a valuable one at that. After all the trouble you went to to get me, Jew’—Zaeed’s eyes turned to ice—‘you should be more courteous.’
He spun, aiming his wild eyes at Pooh Bear.
‘Ah, a good Muslim. You are Sheik Anzar Abbas’s son, are you not? The great Captain Rashid Abbas, commander of the elite UAE First Commando Regiment. . . ’
‘I fear I am not,’ Pooh Bear replied. ‘Rashid Abbas is my brother. I am Zahir Abbas, a humble sergeant and the Sheik’s second son.’
‘The Sheik is a noble servant of Allah,’ Zaeed bowed respectfully. ‘I honour you as his kin.’
Finally, Zaeed rounded on West, who sat with Horus on his shoulder.
‘And you. John West Jr. Captain John West Jr of the Australian SAS. The Huntsman. A name that floats around the Middle East like a wraith. Your feats have become the stuff of legend: your escape from Basra angered Hussein for years, you know. Till the day he was captured, he wanted that plane back. But then you vanished for a very long time. Disappeared off the face of the Earth. Most unusual—’
‘Enough,’ West said. ‘The Wonders: Zeus and Artemis. Where are they?’
‘Oh, yes, I am sorry. The Wonders. And Tartarus approaches, too. Mmmm. Forgive me, Captain West, but I haven’t yet grasped the basis of your belief that I will even want to help you in this cause.’
‘The United States of America already has three pieces of the Capstone,’ West said simply. ‘They are well-equipped and well-informed, and well on their way to securing the entire Capstone. How’s that?’
‘Good enough,’ Zaeed said. ‘Who leads the US force? Marshall Judah?’
‘Yes.’
‘A formidable foe. Clever and cunning. And murderous. Although did you know he has a curious weakness?’
‘What?’
‘A fear of heights. But I digress. Brief me on your progress so far. You are using the Callimachus Text, I presume. Which means you found the Colossus first? Was it the rightmost pendant?’
‘Yes . . . it was,’ West said, surprised.
‘Mmmm. And then came the Pieces from the Pharos and the Mausoleum, no?’
‘How did you know they’d be found in that order?’
Zaeed sighed dramatically. ‘This is elementary. The Callimachus Text is written in the Word of Thoth—a most ancient and complicated language. The language itself contains within it seven levels of increasing complexity, dialects, if you will. Your young reader here’—he indicated Lily—‘can only read one entry at a time, can’t she? This is because each entry in the Callimachus Text is written in an increasingly difficult dialect of the Word of Thoth. The Colossus entry is written in “Thoth I”, the easiest dialect of the Word of Thoth. The Pharos Piece is in “Thoth II”, slightly harder. The Oracle will ultimately be able to read all seven dialects, but not instantly.’
‘You can read the Word of Thoth?’ Wizard asked, incredulous.
‘I can decipher its first four dialects, yes.’
‘But how?’
‘I taught myself,’ Zaeed said. ‘With discipline and patience. Oh, I forget, in the decadent West, discipline and patience are no longer talents that warrant respect.’
‘How did you know the Mausoleum Piece would be entombed with the Pharos Piece?’ Zoe asked.
‘I have spent the last 30 years acquiring every scroll, carving and document relating to the Benben that I could find. Some are famous, like the Callimachus Text, of which I possess a 9th-century copy, others less so—written by humble men who merely wanted to record the marvellous deeds they had done, like constructing great roofs over entire ocean inlets, or carrying marble pillars into the hearts of dormant volcanoes. My collection is vast.’
‘The Callimachus Text is unhelpful on the Zeus and Artemis Pieces,’ West said. ‘Zeus is lost. And we believe Artemis is somewhere in St Peter’s Basilica, but we don’t know exactly where. Do you know where they are?’
Zaeed’s eyes narrowed. ‘The passage of time and many wars have scattered these two Pieces, but yes, I believe I do know their resting places.’
Pooh Bear leaned forward. ‘If you know so much, why have you yourself not gone in search of these Pieces before?’
‘I would have if only I had been able, my Muslim friend,’ Zaeed said smoothly. ‘But I fear I was n
ot as nimble then as I am now.’ As he said this, Zaeed rolled up his right pants-leg, to reveal hideous scarring and fire-melted skin on his lower leg.
‘A Soviet fragmentation grenade in Afghanistan in 1987. For many years, I was unable to even walk on it. And a man with limited movement is useless in trap-laden quarries and inlets. While I retrained my withered muscles throughout the’90s, building them up again, I researched all I could about the Capstone. I was actually grooming a team of mujahideen in Afghanistan at the time of the attacks on New York and Washington DC to hunt for the Pieces. But then the September 11 attacks happened and Afghanistan was plunged into chaos. And I was captured by the Americans. But now my leg is strong.’
‘The Zeus and Artemis Pieces,’ West repeated. ‘Where are they?’
Zaeed grinned a sly smile. ‘Interestingly, these two Pieces that defy your search are neither hidden nor concealed. Both exist in plain sight—if only one knows where to look. The Artemis Piece, yes, it is indeed in St Peter’s in Rome, in no less than the most holy place of the Cult of Amun-Ra. As for the Zeus Piece. . . ’
Zaeed leaned back in his chair, recited the appropriate verse from memory:
‘No thunderbolts did he wield, no wrath did he bear,
No victory did he achieve.
Indeed, it was only the Victory in his right hand that made him great,
Oh, winged woman, whither didst thou fly?’
Zaeed looked at West. ‘It was only the Victory in his right hand that made him great.’
West followed his line of reasoning. ‘The Statue of Zeus at Olympia was said to hold in his right hand a smaller statue of “Winged Victory”: the Greek goddess Nike, a woman with wings coming out of her back, like an angel or the figurehead on the prow of a ship. And since the figure of Zeus was so immense, its statue of Winged Victory was said to be life-sized.’
Zaeed said, ‘Correct. And if it was Victory who made him great, we must look not for Zeus’s Victory. Thus the verse asks: whither did she fly?
‘Now, as I’m sure you know, many life-sized statues of Winged Victory have been found around the ancient Greek world. But after a comprehensive study of the works of Pheidias, the sculptor of the statue of Zeus, I have found only one statue of Victory that possesses the features of his superior level of artistry: fine lines, perfect form, and the rare ability to reproduce the appearance of wet garments in marble.
‘The specimen I have found is the greatest surviving example of Greek sculpture in the world today, yet ironically, Western scholars still assign its construction to an unknown artist. It was found in 1863 by a French archaeologist, Charles Champoiseau—’
‘Oh, no way. . . ’ Wizard gasped in understanding. ‘It’s not . . .’
Zaeed nodded. ‘The very same. Champoiseau found it on the Greek island of Samothrace, and thus the statue now bears that island’s name: the Winged Victory of Samothrace.
‘It was taken back to France, where its genius was quickly appreciated, whence it was taken to the Louvre. There it has sat to this very day in pride of place on a great landing at the top of the Daru Staircase, underneath a high domed ceiling in the Denon Wing of the Louvre in Paris.’
The Halicarnassus sped towards Europe.
It was decided that the team would split into two.
West would lead one sub-team to Paris to go after the Zeus Piece, while Wizard would lead a smaller team to Rome, to chase the Artemis Piece. As for Zaeed, he would stay with Sky Monster on the Halicarnassus, bound and secured.
Everyone scattered around the plane, some to rest, others to research, others to just prepare for the missions ahead.
It happened that Pooh Bear found himself preparing his guns near Mustapha Zaeed, still handcuffed to his chair.
‘Hello, my brother,’ Zaeed whispered. ‘May Allah bless and keep you.’
‘And you,’ Pooh Bear replied, more out of religious habit than because he meant it.
‘Your father, the sheik, is a great man,’ Zaeed said. ‘And a fine Muslim.’
‘What do you want?’
‘The presence of the Jew concerns me,’ Zaeed said simply, nodding at Stretch over on the far side of the main cabin. ‘I can understand your father aligning himself with these Westerners for convenience, but I cannot believe he would ally himself with the Jewish State.’
Pooh Bear said, ‘The Israelis were not invited to join this mission. They discovered us somehow—and threatened to reveal our mission unless we allowed them to join it.’
‘Is that so? How typical,’ Zaeed hissed. ‘Then I am doubly glad that you are here, my friend. The second assembling of the Capstone will be one of the greatest moments in all of human history. Before the end, all will show their true colours. When the time comes, Allah’s brethren should stand together.’
Pooh Bear just kept his eyes downcast.
In West’s office in the rear of the plane, West, Wizard, Zoe and Big Ears were gazing at the brown leatherbound diary West had found inside Hamilcar’s Refuge: Hermann Hessler’s notebook detailing his search for the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World during World War II.
Translating it from the German, they found several references that they understood:
WORD OF THOTH—MULTIPLE DIALECTS OF INCREASING DIFFICULTY . . . NEED TO LOCATE THE ORACLE FOR PRECISE TRANSLATION. . .
CATHOLIC CHURCH = CULT OF AMUN-RA.
COLOSSUS: THIRD NECKPIECE.
MYSTERIOUS BUILDING EXPEDITION IN 85 BC.
• IMHOTEP VI + 10,000 WORKERS;
• ALL MARCHED WEST TO SECRET LOCATION ON COAST NEAR CARTHAGE;
• A WORKER’S PAPYRUS FOUND AT ROSETTA MENTIONS THE MAN’S PARTICIPATION IN AN EXTRAORDINARY CONSTRUCTION PROJECT: THE COVERING OF AN ENTIRE COASTAL INLET AND THE FABRICATION OF A SECTION OF COAST.
• THE MEN WHO PLACED TWO COVERED TREASURES IN THE INNERMOST HOLY CHAMBER WERE ALL EXECUTED.
• PHAROS AND MAUSOLEUM PIECES???
Accompanying these last entries was a teletyped order from Heinrich Himmler himself authorising Hessler to use a U-boat to trawl the entire North African coast of the Mediterranean for the false section of coastline.
There were also some hand-drawn hieroglyphics that Wizard translated aloud:
‘THE CHOICE OF MAN
ONLY ONE OF THE TWO RITUALS MAY BE CHOSEN.
ONE BEGETS PEACE,
THE OTHER POWER.
ON THE FINAL DAY,
A CHOICE MUST BE MADE,
A CHOICE MADE IN THE PRESENCE OF RA HIMSELF
THAT WILL DETERMINE THE VERY FATE OF MEN.’
Wizard leaned back. ‘It’s a reference to the two incantations— the rituals. But only one of them can be performed when the Capstone is placed atop the Great Pyramid.’
They found other references, however, that they did not understand. Like these rather ominous inscriptions:
1ST INSCRIPTION FROM THE TOMB OF IMHOTEP III:
WHAT AN INCREDIBLE STRUCTURE IT WAS,
CONSTRUCTED AS A MIRROR IMAGE,
WHERE BOTH ENTRANCE AND EXIT WERE ALIKE.
IT PAINED ME THAT MY TASK—WHAT WOULD BECOME MY LIFE’S
MASTERWORK—WAS TO CONCEAL SO MAGNIFICENT A STRUCTURE.
BUT I DID MY DUTY.
WE SEALED THE GREAT ARCHWAY WITH A LANDSLIDE.
AS INSTRUCTED, THE PRIESTS’ ENTRANCE REMAINS OPEN SO THEY
MAY TEND THE SHRINES INSIDE—THE PRIESTS HAVE BEEN
INFORMED OF THE ORDER OF THE SNARES.
2ND INSCRIPTION FROM THE TOMB OF IMHOTEP III:
ONLY THE BRAVEST OF SOULS
SHALL PASS THE WELLS OF THE WINGED LIONS.
BUT BEWARE THE PIT OF NINGIZZIDA,
TO THOSE WHO ENTER THE SERPENT-LORD’SPIT,
I OFFER NO ADVICE BUT THIS:
ABANDON ALL HOPE,
FOR THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM THERE.
WINGED LIONS. COMMON ASSYRIAN STATUE FOUND IN
PERSIA/MESOPOTAMIA.
NINGIZZIDA: ASSYRIAN GOD OF SERPENTS & SNAKES.
/> POSSIBLE REF TO THE HG OF BABYLON???
A few pages later there was a pair of scribbled pictures, simply titled ‘Safe Routes’:
After this there was another translation, which caused Wizard to say, ‘Ooh, it’s a reference to one of the rituals that must be performed on the final day.’
It read:
THE RITUAL OF POWER
AT THE HIGH ALTAR OF RA,
UNDER THE HEART OF THE SACRIFICIAL ONE
WHO LIES IN THE ARMS OF VENGEFUL ANUBIS,
POUR INTO THE DEATH GOD’S HEART
ONE DEBEN OF YOUR HOMELAND
UTTER THOSE ANCIENT EVIL WORDS
AND ALL EARTHLY POWER SHALL BE YOURS
FOR A THOUSAND YEARS.
‘“One deben of your homeland”?’ Big Ears frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Zoe began, ‘A deben was an ancient Egyptian unit of measurement: about 100 grams. I imagine it means—’
But suddenly Wizard jumped up and gasped, seeing the next entry. It read:
FROM THE SECRET GOSPEL OF ST MARK
AT DAWN ON THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT,
THAT FINAL HORRIBLE DAY,
AT THE ONLY TEMPLE THAT BEARS BOTH THEIR NAMES,
THREAD THE POWER OF RA THROUGH THE EYES OF
GREAT RAMESES’S TOWERING NEEDLES,
FROM THE SECOND OWL ON THE FIRST
TO THE THIRD ON THE SECOND . . .
. . . WHEREBY THE TOMB OF ISKENDER WILL BE REVEALED.
THERE YOU WILL FIND THE FIRST PIECE.
Beneath this entry, Hessler had scrawled:
THE TOMB OF ISKENDER—THE BURIAL PLACE OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT. ALEXANDER WAS BURIED WITH THE FIRST PIECE!
Wizard leaned back, his eyes wide.
‘The Secret Gospel of St Mark.’ Zoe exchanged a look with West. ‘The Heretical Gospel.’
‘Explain,’ Big Ears said.
West said, ‘It’s not widely known, but St Mark actually wrote two gospels while he was in Egypt. The first gospel is the one we all know, the one in the Bible. The second gospel, however, caused an incredible stir when he produced it, so much so that nearly every copy of it was burned by the early Christian movement. And Mark himself was almost stoned for it.’
Seven Ancient Wonders Page 19
