The Eternal Chamber

by Tom Hunter

  “What could be better than that map?” Basile demanded. “You told me you’d never seen anything like it before, that you could spend years studying it and still never unlock all of its secrets.”

  “A cave,” announced Samuel smugly. If he was expecting Basile to be impressed, he was sadly disappointed.

  “A cave?” echoed the Frenchman. “We’ve been in countless caves! What’s another one to add to the list? What was inside that makes you so happy? Please tell me that it’s at least the tomb of an unknown Pharoah or it contains evidence of Atlantis. Perhaps you found the Holy Grail? Please, Samuel. Enlighten me. What makes this cave so special?”

  “I have no idea what’s inside,” Samuel confessed. “I didn’t go in.”

  “Gah!” Basile threw up his hands in disgust. “Your whole trip was a waste of time and resources when I could have used you back here. If you’d stayed at camp instead of going on a wild duck chase, we’d still have the map.”

  “Wild goose chase,” Samuel corrected. “And I didn’t go in because I wanted you to be with me when I explored it for the first time. This isn’t just any ordinary cave. It’s protected by seriously advanced technology. You’d never find it if you didn’t know it was there. The ancients should never have been able to develop anything like the camouflage technology on the site. This is a unique discovery.”

  “What do you mean?” Basile frowned.

  “Here. Look at this.” Samuel pulled out the holorecorder. “You can see how it looks like there’s nothing there, when suddenly…”

  “Zut alors!” gasped Basile when the cave suddenly materialized.

  “We were lucky we didn’t crash the helicopter,” Samuel said. “The first time we saw the cave was when we nearly crashed into the rock above the entrance. Josh was bringing us in to land, and it suddenly appeared out of nowhere. It’s only thanks to his flying skills we were able to avoid it, but in the confusion, we lost the map.”

  “I see,” nodded Basile.

  “Watch this part.” Samuel played the footage of the door. “That wasn’t there when I first went into the cave. I had to perform a little ritual to make it appear. I didn’t film that part in case the recording fell into the wrong hands. Given the technology that’s protecting the cave, I’d put money on it containing something hugely important. I don’t want anyone else knowing how to unlock the doors until the Ministry has claimed it.”

  “You could be right,” Basile agreed. “Come on. Let’s go back to my tent so we can review your tape in greater detail before we contact the Ministry. An engineer’s perspective might help identify what mechanisms are at play so you can determine whether it really is ancient technology or a terrible modern joke.”

  Nine

  After the helicopter had touched down at the dig site, Waleed made straight for Samuel and hurried out to make the most of the opportunity to attempt to pump information out of the American about why he’d been away from the camp for so long. When Basile interrupted them, at first, Waleed thought this would improve his chances of learning more. After all, he’d spent weeks cultivating his image as a harmless porter in the hope that he’d be able to more easily eavesdrop on important conversations.

  It was obvious that this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

  The archaeologist had dismissed him, barely looking at the porter when he told him to leave. Still, Waleed knew to keep up appearances, pressing his hands together and bowing his head a little to hide his disappointment, before turning and going back to the camp. He couldn’t help but notice the irony that only that day he’d been advising Basile on being more like the American and the second he returned, Samuel was treating him as just another lackey.

  Make the most of it, my American friend, Waleed thought to himself. Your time will come soon enough.

  As he met a group of workers heading to a different part of the camp, Waleed used them as cover to duck away and sneak back to where Samuel and Basile were talking. Hiding behind some crates, he could just about make out their conversation.

  “This isn’t just any ordinary cave,” Samuel was telling his friend. “It’s protected by advanced technology. The ancients should never have been able to build anything like it. This is a unique discovery.”

  Waleed knew the cautious American well enough by now to know that he didn’t get excited for no reason. If Samuel thought this cave was special, then it was definitely worth finding out more.

  Risking peeping out from behind the crate, Waleed watched as Samuel switched on the holorecorder. Although he was too far away to see the details of what was playing, the look of astonishment on Basile’s face was unmistakable.

  “Well, well, well.” Waleed muttered. “Looks like all my hard work has finally paid off.”

  Deciding that he’d seen enough and not wanting to risk discovery, Waleed crept away from the two men, his crouched posture lengthening into a cocky strut when he thought he’d gone far enough to avoid suspicion.

  You’re going to have to get used to having a shadow, Samuel, thought Waleed. After what he’d just seen, he was going to stick close by the man’s side. A new expedition was going to need crew and Waleed intended to be first in line to volunteer.

  His mind wandering off into fantasies of breaking into the cave and pocketing enough treasure to make him wealthy for the rest of his life, Waleed almost didn’t notice the man hiding in the shadows of one of the equipment tents. He’d reached a part of the camp that stored tools that were no longer in regular use, so whoever it was, they were clearly hoping to avoid the rest of the team.

  Privacy is a privilege you cannot afford, my friend, Waleed grinned to himself as he snuck into the tent. It always amused him how tent walls gave the illusion of privacy, fooling people into thinking they could talk without fear of being overheard when, of course, canvas offered no real soundproofing. Waleed had learned many a useful tidbit from hanging around tents.

  Making himself comfortable, he heard the sound of radio equipment tuning in to the right frequency.

  Stranger and stranger.

  The site had its own radio equipment for crew to use when the satellite phones failed. Why, then, was this man using his own?

  “Hallo? Hallo? Can you hear me? Over.”

  Waleed was sure he recognized the voice. Cautiously, he lifted up the bottom of the tent wall to confirm his suspicions.

  Waleed dropped the canvas as soon as he saw who was on the other side. Nafty, the third member of Samuel’s team, was trying to contact someone and one thing was for certain: it wasn’t the Ministry.

  The radio whined, as Nafty adjusted the dials to tune into the right frequency.

  “Hallo? Mr. Nam-Gi? Are you there?

  “Yes. What is it?” A bored voice finally replied.

  “This is Agent 4962, sir, Nafty, speaking to you from the Ministry dig site you sent me to observe.”

  “Whatever it is, this better be important,” snapped Mr. Nam-Gi. “Or is this another one of your flights of fancy? You have been warned about wasting my time.”

  “No, no, sir.” Nafty was quick to reassure his superior. “I promise you that this is of utmost importance. I believe that I have found what the Bruard have been looking for.”

  Waleed’s eyes widened in shock. The Bruard? Nafty had always seemed a little shifty, but he’d never have guessed that he was a spy for the dynasty that had ambitions of world domination. This conversation could prove to be priceless to the right buyer.

  Waleed edged closer, not wanting to miss any detail, until he was practically sitting back to back with the traitor.

  “Oh really?” Mr. Nam-Gi seemed less than impressed. “And what exactly might that be?”

  “A hidden cave,” Nafty replied.

  “I take it this cave is filled with valuable relics?”

  Nafty paused. “I’m not sure about that,” he finally admitted.

  “Then why are you wasting my time?” raged Mr. Nam-Gi.

  “Because this isn’t any
ordinary cave.” Nafty spoke quickly, needing to tell Mr. Nam-Gi everything before he cut communications. “It was hidden by a cloaking device that was far too sophisticated for an ancient civilization to have built. Its very existence suggests that there is something special about this location. There is no other explanation unless…”

  “Unless this is the site we have been looking for,” Mr. Nam-Gi concluded. “What else?”

  “The cloaking device was so effective that we had no idea there was a cave there until our pilot almost flew into it. Once we were on the ground, we determined that it hid the cave from all angles like a bubble until you got right next to it, which begs the question of how the ancients knew that people might be able to approach from the air. Inside, there was a mysterious doorway that could only be opened with a strange ritual.”

  “And what was past this doorway?”

  “I have no idea. I did my best to persuade McCarthy to go further in, but the American pigdog insisted on returning for Ministry support first.”

  “I see.” There was a pause. “Then it was at least worth hearing from you, Nafty. I’m sending out another agent to relieve you of your duties. Until they arrive, stay where you are and maintain observation. You’ll receive your due payment when they reach you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Having heard enough, Waleed slipped away. Nafty was an agent of the Bruard? Being discovered eavesdropping by him was not a chance worth taking.

  As he left the tent, Waleed stumbled over one of the ropes securing it down. Muffling a curse, he abandoned his usual caution and ran to get away before Nafty could investigate the noise.

  “This is not worth it. Not any more,” Waleed muttered to himself. “With the bounty on my head, the last thing I need is to stick around and wait for the Bruard to storm in. It’s time to put my escape plan into practice.”

  Hurrying into the tent he shared with three other workers, he was relieved to see that none of them were there. Having to conceal a body before he left would have been most inconvenient.

  Pulling out his backpack from under the bed, he rummaged around for the secret pocket he’d had sewn into the inner lining. Finally locating his gun, he smiled as he caressed the barrel, admiring the way the light reflected from the metal.

  “Hello, old friend.”

  Waleed checked that it was still fully loaded before tucking it into his pants. All that was left to do now was help himself to some of the precious artifacts from the camp before heading to Cairo. It was time to start afresh somewhere new.

  Ten

  Samuel strode confidently through the clutter strewn around his tent, seeming not to notice the clothes, documents and equipment strewn about the floor. As the chief of the expedition, his tent was larger than most, with space for a number of tables so that he could work in peace and quiet without needing to clear away one artifact before moving on to another, as well as room to store his most precious equipment and notes.

  Basile followed him, immediately tripping over a device resembling a motorcycle engine, sporting curved colored tubes on the side.

  “Shouldn’t that be somewhere safe?” he remarked.

  “That thing?” shrugged Samuel. “I don’t really know why I brought it, to be honest. It analyses dirt samples, but I haven’t needed to use it on this dig. Just put it over there.”

  He waved vaguely in the direction of a jumble of clothes and notebooks.

  “Do you really have to live like this?” asked Basile, ignoring Samuel’s instructions. “How can you find anything in this mess?”

  “I know where everything is if I need it,” Samuel shrugged. “And since it’s my stuff, that’s all that matters. Anyway, this camp is temporary and I can count on two hands the number of days I’ve spent here since the dig started. I’ve got more important things to do with my time than stress about housework.”

  “You should be setting an example,” advised Basile. “Leaders should look and live like leaders.”

  “I really don’t think that the state of my tent has anything to do with how I run this expedition,” laughed Samuel. “Who cares? I mean, really, who cares?”

  “The Ministry might if they came by,” Basile pointed out. “You know that they like to carry out surprise inspections every now and then. You’ll want to present yourself properly for them to take you seriously.”

  “You let me worry about the Ministry while you keep your focus on taking care of the workers’ safety,” Samuel told him. “Now are we going to spend all night debating the merits of dusting or do you want to take a closer look at the footage of the cave? I know which I think is more exciting.”

  He swept his hand across a table, pushing all the documents and detritus to one side so that he could set the holorecorder down. Basile tutted and shook his head, but pulled over a stool and sat down so that Samuel could play the video again.

  Adjusting the settings on the device, Samuel sat back as the holorecorder projected a 3D recreation of the cave. The two men watched, Basile’s brow furrowed in deep concentration, as the video showed the unexpected emergence of the cave and the sudden difference between the blank wall and the double doors.

  “That is absolutely fascinating,” breathed Basile, after he’d viewed the film for the third time. “And you say that those carvings are of an Egyptian and a Roman goddess?”

  “That’s right,” Samuel confirmed. “That’s Seshat, while her companion is Moneta. It’s an interesting combination and not one I ever recall seeing anywhere else. Seshat has authority over accounting and astrology while Moneta is a lesser known goddess who is associated with memory. Moneta is also syncretized with the Greek mother of the muses, Mnemosyne, so there’s a slight crossover with Greek culture as well.”

  “I wonder what the significance is of the two of them being placed side by side like that?” mused Basile. “I’ve seen enough in my time to know that ancient carvings like this were never created randomly. There’s always a reason for the choice of images.”

  “Obviously, any theory at the moment will be pure conjecture,” Samuel replied. “However, my initial observations would suggest that the chamber was built either at the beginning of the Roman conquest of Egypt or not long after they’d taken control of the area. As I’m sure you know, the Romans were very respectful when it came to local religions. Their attitude was that if you had a goddess with similar attributes to one of their goddesses, then clearly they were the same person under a different name. Probably one of the most famous examples is that of the temple of Sulis Minerva in Bath, England. There you have the Celtic goddess Sulis conflated with the Roman goddess Minerva to create a deity that spoke to both peoples.”

  “So Seshat and Moneta are the same goddess here?” asked Basile. “But I thought they had different powers?”

  “Exactly,” Samuel snapped his fingers and pointed at Basile. “Which is one of the reasons why I think we’re seeing something truly unique. I don’t think this image is meant to suggest that they are the same goddess so much as whatever is contained within comes under both their auspices. I believe that the fact that the goddesses of memory and accounting are posed together like this is a clue to the purpose of the chamber. I know that it might sound a bit out there, but I think there might be some kind of mechanism inside that records dreams.”

  “Mon dieu!” exclaimed Basile. “You cannot be serious? How could an ancient civilization be capable of recording dreams?”

  “I have no idea, but I can’t wait to find out,” beamed Samuel.

  “I don’t understand how you were able to restrain yourself from going inside,” said Basile. “If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back. I’d be in those caves right now, drooling over all the artifacts and thinking about how my name was going to go down in history for the discovery.”

  “I told you. I promised you that I wouldn’t go in without you and I keep my word.”

  Basile fixed Samuel with a look.

  “All right, all right,” S
amuel chuckled. “That is part of the reason, but not all of it. I still haven’t ruled out the possibility that this is an elaborate, modern fraud. The map might be ancient but that doesn’t mean the contents of the cave are. I’d like to carbon date the doors before proceeding and I didn’t have the right equipment with me to do it. Plus, of course, I didn’t want to risk triggering any traps that might still be in operation. With you by my side, I can send you in first to fall into any pits.”

  He nudged his friend, grinning, but Basile didn’t see the joke.

  “Do you really think there’ll be traps there?” Basile frowned.

  “I always expect traps on these types of digs,” Samuel informed him. “You just never know. Whether we’re dealing with an ancient or modern technology, they’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep the cave hidden all this time. I don’t think they’re going to rely solely on camouflage to protect their secrets, do you?”

  “You’re probably right,” Basile agreed. “That cloaking field is the part I can’t get my head around. I can’t imagine how the Romans could have created something like that. It goes against everything we know about them. My gut tells me that it’s modern, but then why go to all the trouble of carving those goddesses and making them look as though they’re centuries old? Surely that would make people want to explore further? If they wanted people to stay away, why not just put up some good old fashioned keep out signs or booby trap the doors? Abandon hope all ye who enter here!”

  “It’s a real mystery, isn’t it?” Samuel smiled at his friend and Basile grinned back, the pair of them enjoying the buzz of knowing that they were at the start of another new adventure together.

  “Of course,” Samuel continued, “it could just be a former smuggler’s den. It may be that they installed all the cloaking devices and one of them had a penchant for ancient art so decided to decorate the doors to throw would-be thieves off the scent. Or the doors are ancient, but whatever they were protecting has long since gone. We’ll know more once I’ve had a chance to carry out some preliminary carbon dating.”