The Eternal Chamber

by Tom Hunter

  “None of which are worth considering,” the Director told him. “Whatever unfortunate end your colleague has suffered is none of our concern. His demise means there’s one less problem for us to deal with. Still, it is clear that he wasn’t working alone. Gord–assign a small detail to secure the cave entrance should we need to make a quick exit. Then take the rest of the men and come with us into the cave.”

  Gord shouted instructions to his men as Samuel closed the crate over Nafty’s body.

  “Rest in peace,” he murmured. “I might not have known you well, and maybe you were a Bruard traitor, but nobody deserves to die alone in the desert.”

  “This is a bad sign.” Basile shuddered. “I think we should leave. Whatever is in that cave, it’s not worth dying for.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Samuel reassured him. “We have a brutish-looking security force on our side.

  “You two!” Gord barked. “Stop wasting time and get your butts into the cave. Your friend isn’t going anywhere now.”

  Basile and Samuel exchanged a look, as they took out headlamps and put them on. They then took out their Maglites, switching them on as they walked into the cave, staying on high alert for Nafty’s killer.

  Thirty-Two

  Gord took point, leading the expedition into the dark mouth of the cave, the cooler air enveloping the men. Samuel followed close behind him, with soldiers alternating between the Director and Basile to make sure that the unarmed men would be protected in the event of an ambush.

  Samuel’s heart was pounding so hard that he was sure that the others could hear it. Seeing Nafty’s body had really brought the danger home.

  “Is that it?” Gord came to a halt in front of a blank wall. “We came all this way for this? There’s nothing here.”

  “That’s the beauty of this place.” In a rare show of emotion, the Director smiled, running his hand over the smooth, blank surface of the wall in front of them. “There’s plenty here for those with eyes to see. McCarthy, open the door.”

  “Sure, but have you seen those footprints?” He indicated at the ground in front of the wall. “I don’t think those are from when Josh, Nafty and I were here. They look recent. Either someone is in the cave with the door shut or they’re nearby hiding in some unnoticed nook. Either way, we should proceed with caution.”

  Gord stepped towards Samuel, looming over him.

  Although the American didn’t like to show he felt intimidated, he got the hint. “I suggest that you get your men to set up a defensive perimeter, just in case,” Samuel said.

  Gord nodded, snapping his fingers to direct the soldiers as Samuel set out the bowl and offering he’d brought for the ritual. When everyone was in place, he closed his eyes, taking a moment to center himself. Although he knew that the doors weren’t really going to be opened by Roman and Egyptian goddesses, Samuel always liked to show appropriate respect when he worked on a site. It felt like the right thing to do.

  “Magna matres, aperi ostium mihi.” Samuel lifted up the bowl, repeating the gestures he’d made the first time he’d performed the ritual.

  “Ego sum non mortuus est.” Carefully, he placed the bowl in the groove carved into the middle of the floor.

  “Testor ego tueri arcana.”

  Samuel sat back, waiting for the click that would signal the triggering of the door mechanism. When it came, the bowl started to move, its smooth progress giving the illusion that it was moving of its own accord.

  Just as before, when the bowl reached the stone it disappeared. The whole cave started to shake with a threatening rumble. Small stone chips clattered to the floor.

  “Earthquake!” cried Gord. “Everybody out!”

  “Wait!” Samuel barked, waving his arms around to get the others’ attention before they evacuated. “It’s fine. Look!”

  Jaws dropped as the cave settled down and double doors materialized behind Samuel. Seshat smiled benignly on one side, while Moneta looked over them on the other.

  As they watched, the doors silently swung open a crack, the goddesses stepping aside to grant access to the inner chamber.

  “Remarkable,” breathed the Director. “I’ve never seen anything like this. How could something this incredible possibly have remained hidden for centuries?”

  “This entire site has been built for deception,” Samuel pointed out. “Given how well it’s been concealed, it’s likely its existence was a closely kept secret right from the moment of construction. It was not unknown for slaves to be executed after building secret chambers to ensure that nobody spoke of their existence.

  “However, there’s so much about it that intrigues me. Here. Look at the condition of the door. There is a veneer of dust covering it, which would suggest years of disuse. Yet, the joints are still in pristine condition. It is possible that someone has been maintaining it all this time. It’s a conundrum.”

  “I didn’t think the Romans put doors on tombs,” Basile remarked.

  “Although it might be unusual, it’s not unheard of,” Samuel corrected. “For example, an ancient temple was unearthed in Pompeii that was still under construction when Vesuvius blew and buried the city under layers of ash. There was a marble door there that was carved to resemble typical wooden Roman doors and it’s possible that there were plans to add statues such as these at a later date. It needs more study, but so far, there is plenty of evidence to suggest that this could be of Roman provenance.”

  “It’s just a door,” huffed Director Haisam. “Do we really need to waste all this time debating it when there are more exciting things waiting for us in the inner sanctum?”

  “I understand that it might seem like we’re wasting time, but archaeology is a slow and delicate process,” Samuel explained. “The more information we can have before we enter the cave system, the better prepared we’ll be for whatever lies within. Remember, when the door closes, all this carving disappears and it becomes a blank wall again. Unlike the camouflage that hides the cave entrance until you get close, the wall takes that technology a step further. It is only when you perform the ritual that the true nature of the doors is revealed. Otherwise, they’re invisible.”

  “Very impressive.” The Director shook his head in disbelief.

  “But Samuel, surely you can’t seriously be considering the notion that these are genuinely ancient doors?” burst in Basile. “This kind of camouflage technology wasn’t around during Roman times. There’s just no way that this can be an ancient tomb.”

  “Normally I’d agree with you,” Samuel told him. “I’d doubt it myself if it wasn’t for one thing: the map. We know that the document was Roman. I tested it myself. The composition and grain of the parchment were undeniably Roman. And it was the map that gave me the directions to find this place and had the details of the ritual required to open the door. How do you explain that if this door isn’t ancient?”

  “I can’t,” Basile conceded. “So I guess we have to go further in to solve the mystery. Did your map tell you whether the opening ritual works from the other side of the door? I’d hate for us to be trapped inside and starve to death.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that, gentlemen,” The Director reassured them. “That’s why we’ll have men outside. They can always blow the wall to let us out if we need.”

  Samuel glared at him. “You can’t be serious? These doors have stood here for centuries. You’re a Director of the Ministry. You can’t be thinking about destroying something so valuable unless it’s an absolute last resort.”

  “Of course not.” The Director waved away Samuel’s protests. “It was just a little Ministry joke. Your precious doors are perfectly safe.”

  Samuel clenched his jaw, biting back the retort he would have made if Haisam wasn’t his superior.

  “You!” The Director pointed at one of the soldiers. “Open the doors properly so we can see what’s inside. It’s time we discovered what’s really going on here.”

  “Sir.” The soldier saluted and
jumped forward to push on the doors. He managed to get them halfway open before they stuck on something. Sticking his head through the gap, he was the first to see what the doors had been hiding.

  A second later came the shout: “Hostiles!”

  THUNK!

  The man slowly fell back, an arrow protruding from his chest.

  “What do we do?” cried Samuel as he and Basile threw themselves to the ground. The Director ignored them, gesturing to the soldiers to get them into position.

  “You and you, provide cover,” he ordered. “You and you, push forward. Whoever is inside, we need to flush them out into the open. Now, attack!”

  Director Haisam pulled a gun out from a hidden holster, ignoring Samuel and Basile as the two men army-crawled along the ground to take shelter behind a boulder.

  “What the hell is going on?” whispered Basile, as he and Samuel watched the Director rush out of the cave to fetch reinforcements, acting for all the world as if he’d had specialist military training. “I thought he was a Ministry official, not a soldier.”

  “I have no idea,” Samuel replied. “If we survive this, he’s going to have some explaining to do.”

  Thirty-Three

  The large cavern was dimly lit by the quivering flicker of torches. Shots echoed, bullets pinging from the walls, as Haisam’s henchmen and the soldiers attempted to take out the hidden assailants concealed inside the cave. Samuel risked peering out over the top of the boulder he and Basile were using for shelter.

  “What can you see?” hissed Basile, tugging at Samuel’s shirt to get him back under cover as a bullet ricocheted inches away from his foot.

  “Looks like there’s a huge room behind the doors,” Samuel told him. “There appear to be rows of sarcophagi lining the walls, which will help us date the chamber–assuming we survive this.”

  One of the soldiers fell to the ground next to them, clutching at the arrow in his shoulder. Samuel reached out and dragged him to the safety of the boulder.

  “I have to help them,” Samuel said, as the soldier groaned in agony. “They’re being slaughtered.”

  “You can’t,” Basile gasped. “Those men are professional soldiers. If they can’t defeat whoever’s inside, we don’t stand a chance. We need to stay out of the way and let the professionals do their job.”

  “Aargh!” Another soldier fell to the ground, a victim of the deadly archers, leaving just two soldiers to defend the archaeologist and engineer.

  “Sorry, Basile. It’s just not in me to sit back and not do something to help.”

  Keeping a careful watch out to gauge timing, Samuel dashed out from behind the rock and over to the doors. Sitting with his back against the door, he dug his heels into the ground, pushing with all his might to open them fully so the soldiers had more room to maneuver.

  The doors fully open, the two remaining soldiers were able to run through together, taking cover behind stone pillars. A few seconds later, buzzsaw-like sounds came from their small, automatic weapons, as they sprayed tiny caliber rounds towards the archers. Samuel raced after them, hiding in a corner while the soldiers attempted to secure the area.

  “This is madness,” Basile muttered, shaking his head as he watched his friend taking up position in the heart of the melee. “All right, Samuel. I’m coming for you!”

  Crawling out to the dead soldier still lying in the doorway, he pried the gun from his hand. Aiming in the general direction of the doors, Basile closed his eyes and pulled the large pistol’s trigger.

  “Hey!” Samuel yelled back at him. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing! You almost took my head off! Do you want to do those archers’ job for them?”

  “Sorry!” Basile called back. This time, when he fired the gun, he aimed at the ceiling, hoping that the extra shots would scatter their attackers. Lying on the ground, he got his first good look at who was firing the arrows. He couldn’t count how many of them there were, and it was impossible to identify who was attacking them thanks to the large gas mask-like contraptions covering their faces, which were hooked up to water sacks on their backs.

  “Samuel!” He called out. “Do you see the masks?”

  “Yes!” came the reply. “I recognize them. They’re called Dervish pumps. They’re great for supplying water when you’re journeying across the desert, but they’ve got one fatal flaw. Which gives me an idea…”

  “Samuel!” warned Basile. “Stay where you are! Don’t do anything stupid!”

  His warning was useless as he watched Samuel throw himself around the stone pillar he was using for shelter, edging closer to the archers who were too distracted by the firefight to notice his approach.

  “Américain stupide!” Basile exclaimed, doing his best to provide cover for his friend as, somehow, he managed to get within reach of one of their attackers. “Stupid American! Look out behind you!”

  Samuel whirled round to see a masked man rushing towards him, dagger in hand. There was nothing he could do but throw his hands up in front of his face, closing his eyes so that he wouldn’t see the inevitable fatal thrust.

  “Die, scum!” The Director came running into the chamber, leading the rest of the soldiers as they fired indiscriminately into the tomb. The knife-wielding attacker’s back was shredded by a hail of steel, and he crumpled to the floor with a cry of agony.

  Taking advantage of the sudden surprise attack, Samuel hurled himself back at the archer he had been targeting. The man dropped his bow as Samuel managed to get in a couple of jabs to the kidney with his right fist. However, once he recovered, it was quickly clear that Samuel was outclassed. Basile could only watch helplessly as the archer punched the archaeologist in the face, sending him stumbling towards the soldiers and directly into the line of fire. Undeterred, Samuel nimbly regained his footing and launched himself back at the man, grabbing him round the waist in a tackle, and pinning him against the wall. Samuel ground his forearm against his victim’s throat.

  Reaching round to the back at the mask, Samuel grabbed at the failsafe valve that controlled the flow of water into his mask. Giving it a firm twist, the valve broke off in his hand.

  “Bleurch!” gargled the archer, grabbing at his mask to pull it off as it filled with water. Samuel ducked out of the way, pressing himself up against the wall as the man stumbled into the path of one of the soldiers.

  “Take him prisoner!” Samuel called. “We can question hi… Nooooo!”

  He cried out in horror as the soldier callously placed his gun against the head of the archer and pulled the trigger.

  “Director Haisam!” Samuel yelled. “Call off the attack! We’ve won! We’ve won!”

  The Director either didn’t hear him or ignored his pleas, as he steadied himself in the middle of the room, aiming at the remaining men who were retreating into a corridor opposite the entrance that lead deeper into the cave network. Another man fell to the ground, one of Haisam’s bullets hitting him square in the back.

  “Enough!” shouted Samuel, waving his arms about to attract the Director’s attention. “This fight is over! Let the rest go.”

  The Director snarled, steadying his gun for another shot, before pausing and then lowering his weapon. “Cease fire!” he called out. Immediately the soldiers stopped shooting.

  Samuel stepped forward, gazing around the chamber in dismay. “In my entire archaeological career, I have never started an excavation with a shootout,” he raged at the Director.

  “So you’re lucky that my men were here to save you,” replied Haisam, coolly. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m welcome?” Samuel shook his head in disbelief. “Look at the damage you’ve done! Those sarcophagi are centuries old and you’ve caused irreparable harm with your trigger-happy ways. There isn’t a single one that you haven’t damaged.”

  “They shot first,” Haisam shrugged. “What would you have preferred us to do? Let them slaughter us all? Ask politely if they would be so kind as to please stop killing us?” He sniffed in disgust
. “Whilst I appreciate your concerns, my duty is to my men and my country first and foremost. It is clear that this is the tip of the iceberg. I do not believe that this chamber contains the most valuable relics to be found on this site. Mourn the loss of a few items if you must, but my focus is on the true treasure concealed somewhere in the catacombs.”

  “Until we’ve uncovered everything, we have no idea what the ‘true treasure’ is,” Samuel argued. “Your men were out of control. They killed indiscriminately. We could have learned so much from questioning our attackers, but they’re dead, butchered at the hands of your men.”

  “They are soldiers,” Haisam shrugged. “It’s what soldiers do.”

  Samuel opened his mouth to point out that Haisam was an administrator, yet had been equally violent, but something told him that now was not the time.

  “Now if your delicate American sensibilities can cope with the notion of doing the job you are paid to do, I suggest that we press on with our search,” said the Director. “I do not believe that we will have any more trouble from our enemies. They’ve seen what we will do to anyone who dares to attack us. Nevertheless, I will send a couple of men on ahead to secure the area.”

  He gestured to a couple of the soldiers, who started down the corridor, after the archers.

  Samuel stared at the Director, debating his next move.

  “Do we have a problem, McCarthy?” said Haisam, narrowing his eyes slightly.

  “I don’t know. Do we?” countered Samuel. “Basile and I are here to do a job as you so rightly point out, but we can’t do it while your men slaughter everyone in sight. I need your word that you’ll show restraint if we encounter anyone else.”

  “All I can say is that I will not kill anyone I do not have to,” the Director promised. “But you need to remember that my soldiers are here for your safety. Unless you would like to return home with an arrow in your chest? They shot first, remember?”