The Eternal Chamber

by Tom Hunter

  Shafira squirmed uncomfortably, but Haisam only tightened his grip on her, wanting to be sure that she understood the import of what he was telling her.

  “Am I clear?”

  “Of course, Sir.” Shafira nodded soberly. “I won’t tell a soul until you give me the all clear to mention it.”

  “Excellent, excellent. I’d hate to think that I couldn’t trust you.”

  At last, Haisam released her shoulders. “I’ll expect the report on my desk tonight.”

  He turned and left her cubicle. Shafira shook her head, rolling her shoulders to release the sensation of the Director’s hands on her. She reached out to take a large swig of coffee, but discovered that her mug was empty.

  There’s no way I’m going to be able to survive this without more caffeine, Shafira thought, getting up to fetch a refill. Heading towards the kitchen area, she saw the Director at the basin where they got the water for the coffeemaker. Deciding to ask whether he wanted the reports bound or loose, as she drew nearer, she could see that he was frantically scrubbing at his hands, muttering angrily to himself. Unlike his earlier calm demeanor, he didn’t look the slightest bit approachable.

  I’ll get that coffee later, she decided, tiptoeing back to her desk to start the mammoth task of collating the requested reports.

  Five

  “Okay, let me just start recording…” Samuel adjusted the settings on his holorecorder so he could capture every moment of their initial investigation. “And… action!”

  Josh rolled his eyes and shook his head as Samuel slowly turned in a circle, taking a sweeping shot of the desert to show that there was no sign of any cave formation.

  “We’re at an unspecified location that was marked out on an ancient map as being a site of special archaeological interest,” he explained for the benefit of anyone who’d watch the film. “Unfortunately, the map was lost during a dramatic landing, caused by the sudden appearance of a cave that went something like this.”

  He moved forward, keeping the camera facing the spot where the cave would suddenly materialize once they got past the camo-cloak. He kept the view panoramic to capture every aspect of its unexpected appearance.

  “As you can see,” Samuel continued when he’d entered the camouflage field, “there’s a very significant rock formation here, which includes a cave network. We have not yet had a chance to examine this, so this film will document our first approach to this incredible new discovery.”

  He kept the camera steady as he slowly moved towards the main entrance, Josh and Nafty following close behind, wanting to learn more about their discovery.

  “The cave is unremarkable in appearance,” Samuel noted, “and… wait a minute.”

  He zoomed the camera in to focus on some marks on either side of the cave mouth. Having filmed them in close-up, he stepped forward to take a better look. He ran his hand over them, turning excitedly to his companions.

  “These etchings are Roman!” Samuel gasped. He peered closer, trying to make out the words. “We’re going to have to get an expert to examine these. They’re too worn away for me to translate them reliably without someone who can make an educated attempt at filling in the blanks. But this is a definite sign that we’re on the right track–and that whatever it is we’re going to find inside a cave that someone took the trouble to hide like this could well rewrite history. Come on!”

  He went to enter the cave, but Josh held him back.

  “I think we should leave,” he advised. “I agree that there’s something weird going on here, but I’m not convinced that it’s got anything to do with ancient Romans. Think about it, man. There’s no way that the Romans could have mastered camo tech to this level of sophistication. For all we know, they came here, defaced the caves, and left without burying any artifacts. That inscription could be the only Roman thing about this place. Smugglers or drug dealers could be responsible for setting up that cloaking shield. I’m not going in there without a weapon, not when we don’t know who’s waiting inside.”

  “Look at the sand.” Samuel gestured to the ground. “Do you see any footprints or vehicle tracks?”

  “They’d have been blown away in one gust of wind,” Josh countered.

  “Come on, Josh,” sighed Samuel. “Nobody’s been here for a long time. I promise you that there’s no-one lurking in the cave. And since someone couldn’t fly a helicopter straight, we lost the map. We might not be able to find this spot again if we leave now. I have to know if it’s worth the trouble of sending out a full team to investigate before we go back to camp.”

  “I thought you said you’d memorized the map?” Josh pointed out.

  Samuel blushed, scuffing at the sand to mask his discomfort.

  “Listen to your friend,” urged Nafty. “He’s right. What if there are smugglers inside? You saved my life once already today. Don’t make me any more in your debt.”

  “If there are any smugglers, I’ll take the bullet for you both,” Samuel promised. “But I’m telling you that there’s no one inside that cave. We’d see the signs if there were. Besides, the distance from the shield to the cave is so small, only the smallest of groups would be able to get in unseen. We can take down a handful of men between us. I’ve seen you in action, remember Josh?”

  “Bar brawls don’t count,” muttered the pilot.

  “This is the find of the century,” Samuel said. “We’re the first people to see this for who knows how long. Even if it is ‘just’ a smuggler’s den, the only people who could have set it up would be the Bruard.”

  Nafty frowned. “What makes you say that?” he said sharply.

  “Well, it’s just that you always read about the dangers of Bruard super-science,” Samuel pointed out. “I never paid much attention before, figured it was just the media exaggerating again. Given how sophisticated that cloaking device is, they’re the most obvious candidates for setting it up. And if they are behind it, then that means that the other stories about them are likely to be true too.”

  “That’s sorted then.” Josh folded his arms. “There’s no way you’re getting me in there, not if there’s a bunch of Bruard thugs lying in wait.”

  “There aren’t any Bruard thugs in the cave.” Samuel made one final attempt to persuade Josh and Nafty to come exploring with him, but it was clear he was wasting his time.

  “All right,” he sighed. “How’s this for a compromise? The pair of you keep watch and shout if you see anyone coming. I want to take a brief peek inside before we leave. It would be stupid to have come all this way and go through everything we’ve suffered just to turn back now.”

  “All right. If you must. But be quick,” warned Josh. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Don’t worry, I will be. Promise.” Samuel pulled out a Maglite, switching it on and clipping it to his shirt pocket. Taking out a small notebook, he turned and headed into the cave mouth.

  Out of the glaring sun, the temperature quickly dropped and Samuel felt his skin break out in goosebumps, although whether it was a result of the cold or his nerves showing, he couldn’t tell.

  The cave proved to be smaller than expected, the roughhewn corridor coming to a sudden stop at an unnaturally smooth, flat, stone wall. Samuel shone his Maglite across the wall, looking for any sign of a hidden door. Nothing.

  “Hmm.” He frowned and tutted, thinking back to what his research had told him about the cave site. When he’d uncovered the map, there’d been other documents accompanying it filled with strange riddles and verses. Perhaps the answer to the way forward lay among them.

  Flicking back through his notebook, he found the page where he’d jotted down his rough translations. Among descriptions of strange rituals, there was one comment that stood out as being relevant. He read it aloud, translating it as he went.

  Spelunca est unus solus frustra custos inter dunes. Priusquam iter unius calculo sisteretur praesidio. Et fac orationem magna mater est quod confirmat inter vivos adhuc stare et Phelethi legiones ex p
arte vias ejus ad te. The cave stands alone, a solitary sentinel amidst the empty dunes. Journey forward until your path is stopped by the stone guard. Offer a prayer to the Great Mothers that confirms you still stand among the living and the guard shall part ways for thee.

  He looked up at the wall. “This must be the stone guard.” He flung his arms out dramatically. “All right, Great Mothers. I’m still alive! I et adhuc tota!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Open sesame, Great Mothers?” Samuel chuckled to himself.

  “Maybe it’s not a literal prayer,” he mused, turning his attention to the other cave walls. Sweeping the Maglite beam around the chamber, he felt about the cave surface, patting down the stone walls looking for a hidden latch, or at least a clue to the next step.

  “A-ha!” In the middle of the cavern, he found a shallow dip in the ground that was too smooth to be natural. Falling to his hands and knees, he brushed away the sand surrounding it. At last, his fingers felt something. Bringing the light closer, he could make out more letters.

  “M… A… G… Magna Matres–the Great Mothers!” Underneath the words were two arrows, one pointing towards the groove, the other indicating the blank wall.

  Hands shaking, Samuel fumbled through his notebook again, his jottings finally starting to make sense. If he’d correctly interpreted the comments scribbled on the map, a bowl was to be placed in the sacred space and then filled with a blood offering while a ritual prayer was recited.

  “What a shame I left my bowl and sacrificial goat at home today,” Samuel muttered, his mind racing to come up with suitable alternatives.

  Scrambling to his feet, he hurried out to where Josh and Nafty were waiting impatiently.

  “Great. We can go now, yes?” asked Nafty.

  “No.” Samuel shook his head. “Josh, do you have anything to eat in the helicopter?”

  “Really?” Josh rolled his eyes. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, Nafty and I are getting burned to a crisp by the sun and all you can think about is your stomach?”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for the Great Mothers!” Samuel raced over to the helicopter and started to rummage around, looking for something that could serve as a bowl.

  “Can you not destroy my craft?” sighed Josh. “Just because you like living in a pigsty doesn’t mean that I’m happy dealing with your mess. Get out of the way. Tell me what you want and I’ll find it for you.”

  Soon Samuel was back in the cave carrying a small plastic bowl filled with beef jerky. Kneeling down next to the groove, he placed his notebook on the ground opened to the page where he’d written the translation of the ritual. Clearing his throat, he began to perform the sacred ceremony.

  “Magna matres, aperi ostium mihi. Great Mothers, open your doors for me.” He held the bowl up high, as if showing it to the goddesses.

  “Ego sum non mortuus est. I am not dead.” He placed the bowl in the groove, hoping that it would be heavy enough to register.

  “Testor ego tueri arcana. I call to witness, I shall protect the secret sources.” He sat back on his knees, looking around expectantly. At first, nothing happened, but then he heard an almost imperceptible click! The bowl started to move towards the blank wall, pulled along by some unseen mechanism.

  As it hit the stone, it disappeared, but Samuel had no time to wonder what had happened to it. The entire cave started to shake, a loud rumbling noise sounding as if it were about to collapse.

  Jumping up, Samuel was about to run outside when the noise stopped and the wall in front of him shimmered, suddenly transforming. Whatever cloaking device had been in place had been deactivated by the ritual.

  Samuel was standing in front of a massive Roman-style double door twice his height and three times his width. On the left side was a carving of Seshat, the Egyptian Goddess of accounting and astrology, while on the right was Moneta, the Roman goddess of memory.

  For a moment, he stood there, paralyzed by this new apparition.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Samuel breathed when he finally found himself. He gazed up at the carvings, trying to take in every little detail despite the poor lighting.

  Pulling out a pair of gloves, he tugged them on, his hands fumbling as he continued to stare at the doors, unable to tear himself away. At last, he managed to get the gloves on to protect the doors as he reached out to touch the carvings. However, before his hand could connect with the doors, they swung open, moving as smoothly as if they’d been recently installed, revealing an inner chamber.

  Switching on the holorecorder, Samuel began to record.

  Six

  Three hundred miles away, the sweltering sun beat down on the archaeological team beavering away at unearthing a newly discovered burial site adjacent to Samuel’s original dig site. Makeshift shelters offered shade, but little respite from the heat as everyone rushed to get as much work done as possible before the temperatures became unbearable.

  One team focused on carefully cutting through hard-packed stone to reveal more of the burial site, while others carried out scrolls and maps from the already excavated chambers, packing them carefully in crates for the Ministry for more in-depth study by off-site experts.

  A man climbed up the ladder that led out of the burial site, his arms so full of documents he could barely move them to cling to the rungs. Using his chin to keep the top papers in place, he pulled himself out onto safe ground, but as he turned to move towards the crates, he stumbled, dropping one of the documents. Reaching out for it, he almost lost his grip on the rest of the scrolls, forcing him to clutch onto them. He could only watch in horror as the precious artifact tumbled towards the ground…

  …to be saved by Chief Engineer Basile Rossignol. Hurling himself towards the falling scroll, he fell to the ground, juggling the parchment as he attempted to stop it hitting the dirt, finally coming to a halt centimeters away from the edge of the pit, holding the document triumphantly aloft.

  “Voila!” he crowed, looking around to see if anyone had seen his brilliant save before clumsily pulling his tall frame back to a standing position when he realized that everyone was too focused on their work to notice. His bushy eyebrows made a V over his large nose, as he frowned.

  “I am so sorry, Monsieur Rossignol,” the man carrying the scrolls apologized, extending his hand to retrieve the scroll.

  “What were you thinking, trying to carry so much at once?” Basile scolded. “Don’t you know that it’s considered terrible bad luck for these scrolls to touch the ground? Not to mention the damage the sand could do to them when they’ve been preserved in an airtight chamber for centuries? We have no idea what secrets are inscribed on these parchments. Ancient knowledge could have been lost forever due to your clumsiness.”

  “I’m sorry,” the man repeated. “It’s just that it’s so hot. I thought that if I could get more scrolls that we could finish sooner. I really didn’t think I was carrying too much. Of course I would never have deliberately risked such a treasure.”

  “Hot?” Basile kept tight hold of the scroll he’d rescued as he walked next to the man to place it safely in storage in one of the crates. “This is nothing. Why, when I was on a dig in the Amazon, this is what we woke up to every morning and it only got worse as the day wore on. And it was a damn sight more humid, too. None of us complained. We just got on with the job.”

  “Still, Monsieur,” the man continued. “Don’t you think it would be a good idea if we took a break for a little while? I’d hate to see anyone else make a mistake like mine.”

  “Did someone say break?” Another worker’s ears picked up. “It’s about time. We’ve been at this for hours.”

  “No one’s having a break.” Basile held up his hands, as the men loading crates gathered round him.

  “Please, Monsieur,” begged another man. “We would all be faster if we had a moment to rest and refresh ourselves.”

  Basile shook his head. “All right,” he relented. “You can all take five. I’ll gather u
p another team to take up your slack. But when I say five minutes, I mean five minutes and no more. We’re on a tight deadline here, especially with having a new section to investigate.”

  “Thank you, Monsieur. Thank you, thank you.”

  The men scurried away to seek shade, as Basile checked his watch.

  “What are they complaining about?” he muttered to himself. “They’ve only been going for two and a half hours. In my day, we wouldn’t even have been thinking about taking a break until the sun was fully overhead. You’d think they’d be used to it, living ‘round here.”

  He wiped the sweat away from his forehead. It was hot, but Basile knew better than most the importance of getting the job done as quickly as possible. He’d been on too many digs that had seen precious artifacts destroyed, their secrets lost forever because someone had taken too long to retrieve them after they had been exposed to the moisture in the air after untold centuries locked away.

  Not for the first time, he wished that Samuel were here. Basile didn’t like being in charge of digs. That kind of responsibility was better left to the experts so he could focus on his own field of expertise: making sure that all the structures were safe so they didn’t lose anyone to a collapsing shaft or tunnel.

  Basile would never forget the time he was trapped underground on one of his first digs after the Chief Engineer on the excavation had failed to notice that an important support was cracking. The claustrophobic sensation of knowing that there were tons of dirt above his head, only held up by a few planks of wood that might fail at any moment, burying him alive, was something that still haunted his dreams. He’d sworn then and there that no one would ever go through what he had and so far, no one on any of his digs ever had.