Judgment (2 page)

“No thanks. You’re the ‘expert.’” To get his dig on Benjamin, Cameron made the quotes around “expert” audible. Then he inched backward to the T junction and let his father pass.
 

“Right or straight ahead?” Benjamin asked a few minutes later.
 

The map showed no junction.
 

“Straight … straight ahead,” Cameron stammered.
 

“Are you sure?”
 

“Yes, I’m sure.”
 

Benjamin bit his lip, lowered the lantern, turned, and faced his son.
 

“Tell me if you don’t know, Cam. I don’t want to get lost down here.”
 

“I know! I said straight!”
 

Benjamin looked like he might persist but then just sighed and turned.
 

Cameron followed, holding the map with both hands, shining his headlamp down while trying to resist the headache that came with the bouncing glow. He was pretty sure this was correct. Almost entirely. Yusef hadn’t marked the right-branching passage they’d just passed, probably because he was giving them a way to reach the chamber directly without all the alternative approaches. You don’t tell someone every street they’ll cross on the way to the post office; you just tell them to cross the big intersection with the Kmart on the corner before turning.
 

Benjamin’s voice came back at Cameron from over forward-facing shoulders. Sound was odd in here. The rock funneled voices toward the speaker’s head, leaving a scant fraction of normal volume to echo backward.
 

“How do you think these passages were carved, Cameron? Hard to imagine humans doing this by hand, right?”
 

Cameron pretended not to hear.
 

“Cam?”
 

“It should be just up here, Dad.”
 

“Did you hear what I said about the—”

“Yes.”
 

“So how do you think they were carved?”

Cameron sighed loudly enough to be obvious.
 

Benjamin turned his head. “So you don’t know that, either.”
 

Either
. So clearly Benjamin didn’t trust his map reading even after the assurances.

“I know it, Dad.”
 

“So why don’t you just tell me?”
 

“Because you know I know.”
 

“How do I know you know if you won’t answer the question?”
 

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve told me, like, a hundred times?”
 

“I guess it wasn’t often enough,” Benjamin said with false regret.
 

“Or maybe it’s because when most kids were getting bedtime stories, I was learning about the tools and excavation methods of ancient people. Maybe I don’t want to answer your question because I’ve already answered it a thousand times, like every day of my life is some stupid quiz.”

“That’s
so
not how it was, and you know it.”
 

“Really? What did we talk about at breakfast?”
 

Benjamin said nothing.

“It’s really too bad we split up at lunch so I could get the map from Yusef. If we’d eaten together, I’d probably be able to pass this test.” He snapped in the reverberating stone hallway.
“Damn.”
 

“Forgive me for educating you. Most sixteen-year-olds don’t get opportunities like this to—”
 

Cameron rolled his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
 

“Cameron!”
 

“Really,
Dad? I’m old enough to fly around the world with you and break into deathtraps by your side but not old enough to swear? I thought the aliens taught us language? Shouldn’t I glory in its many colorful aspects?”
 

Benjamin didn’t reply. He seemed to be pouting, but that was fine with Cameron. It was bad enough that his father’s obsession had been forced upon him as if it were
Cameron’s
passion, too. Worse that the same obsession had driven his mother from their marriage. The constant lectures about aliens and conspiracy theories had replaced board games and tossing a ball in the yard. Benjamin hadn’t made it to a single one of Cameron’s band recitals in middle school — but Cameron had definitely made it to Machu Picchu and to meet the hunched-over shaman who couldn’t wait to talk about little green men. If Benjamin wanted to feel butt-hurt over Cameron’s jabs about their shared past, so be it. Someone needed to knock the man down a few pegs every once in a while — to remind him that archaeology and aliens didn’t single-mindedly interest everyone the way they interested him.
 

But Cameron was vindicated a few minutes later. As assured, the narrow hallway yawned into a wide chamber in the ancient structure’s central base — a place that was supposed to be caved in but turned out fine, just like Yusef promised.
 

Benjamin went ahead, spreading out, still conspicuously silent. His headlamp played along the walls, in many small cubbies like ancient shelves. Cameron watched him circulate, shining the lantern on everything. Finally Benjamin stooped to pick something up — a small item, the size of a coin. He looked up, and Cameron waited for his thanks and congratulations, waited for his father to tell him he wasn’t an idiot after all.

“This isn’t the right chamber,” Benjamin said.

“What? Of course it is!”
 

“No, it’s not.” Benjamin shook his head. “See that?”
 

Cameron followed his father’s gesture and found a pencil-thin spear of sunlight shining through the rock above.

“Anything seem wrong with that light to you?”
 

Cameron didn’t want to answer. The question was obviously loaded.
 

“Does that look like a northern-facing shaft?” Benjamin asked, still pointing. “You know … for the
Sun
Chamber?”

“Um … ”
 

“Hell, Cam. Of course it’s not.”

“But it’s the chamber on the map!”

“It’s just a room.” Benjamin swore under his breath. It wasn’t easy to move around undetected. If the Mullah caught wind that outsiders were snooping, there’d be hell to pay. Lucky that this was a minor outpost so their presence would be light — not much, globally speaking, to see here.

“Look at the ornamentation, Dad!” Cameron pointed around the chamber. There were symbols everywhere and a round object made of stone or ceramic lying flat, not entirely visible, on a raised podium. “It’s obviously
something
. Yusef must’ve—”

Benjamin reached for the napkin. Cameron, more out of reflex than sense, tried to snatch it away. Benjamin caught a pinch, and the napkin tore neatly in two.
 

“Great. Just great.” Benjamin held out his hand, and Cameron dutifully handed over the napkin’s second half. His mood had gone from triumphant to chastised in thirty short seconds.

Benjamin looked over the torn napkin. “Like I said. Not the Sun Chamber. This is either drawn wrong or you’re reading it wrong. Although how
that
could possibly happen with such excellent cartography, I can’t imagine.”
 

“Well, then let’s just figure out what
this
place is. You didn’t even know this chamber was here, did you? Lemons from lemonade, Dad.”
 

Benjamin was shaking his head. Pouting, Cameron thought. Now that they were here, they’d explore the chamber, all right, but not until his dad got his passive-aggressive digs in. The great Benjamin Bannister didn’t like arriving at sites unprepared — and whatever this strange ceremonial room was, it hadn’t been researched. It could be anything, and without knowing what he was looking for or at, he’d miss the obvious. But in Cameron’s mind, this was a case of getting
more
than they’d bargained for, not less. They’d check their current chamber out
then
find the Sun Chamber. Two chambers for the price of one.

Benjamin shook his head at the napkin halves, not dignifying Cameron’s words with a response, and resumed mumbling.
 

As his father turned and seemed to be fishing for his bearings, Cameron shone the lantern around, exploring. He approached the podium, glancing up to get a better look at the round object that was this room’s clear focal point, but footsteps on the stone behind him caught his attention before he could zero in.

“Cameron.”

Cameron turned. Benjamin came forward and slapped the coin thing he’d picked up earlier into his palm.
 

“What’s this?”
 

“A souvenir. So you’ll always remember your inability to admit when you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“We found a new chamber! What’s the problem?”
 

“And we’ll look it over. Then we’ll try to salvage the situation before the authorities or the Mullah knows we’re here. But dammit, Cam, if you’d just listened … ”
 

“Dad, I’m telling you—”

“What
?
What
are you telling me? That Yusef got it wrong, not you? Or that the tunnels and chambers have moved around since he drew you the map?”
 

Cameron shook his head. He wanted to be angry, but the obvious error had taken the wind from his sails.
 

“You’re just like your mother. Your ego is so fragile, you can’t ask for help. We paid Yusef well. I told you to make sure you got all we paid for. I trusted you with this
one thing,
Cam.”
 

But Cameron remembered the way the man had eyed him in the Nile Cafe. He’d seemed to resent speaking to the American kid — divulging secrets that, if Benjamin was correct, were known only to a tiny inside circle. Many palms had been greased and several connections uncovered to find the Sun Chamber, and yet
this
was what Yusef had ended up facing? Some stupid kid? Cameron had felt every ounce of the man’s irritation. And so, yes, to compensate, maybe he’d puffed his chest a bit more than he should have.
 

And maybe — just maybe — Cameron had said, “Yes,
of course
” when Yusef had snapped,
“You understand?”
a bit too readily, as if he’d had something to prove.
 

Benjamin put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder. The contact seemed to surprise them both. The hand dropped, and his voice was softer, lower, when he spoke again.

“I don’t expect you to know everything, Cameron. I just wish you’d admit when you
don’t
. Yusef explained it to you and not me, fine. But if you’d told me he’d been less than forthcoming, I’d at least have known what I was dealing with. If you’d said upfront that you weren’t entirely sure of the directions—”

“But I
was
sure! Yusef showed me what all of these—!”

“If you’d just told me you weren’t sure of the directions,” Benjamin patiently repeated, “I’d have taken the time to search for glyphs in the tunnels. We’d have taken longer, but we’d at least have found what we were looking for.” Another sigh then a lift in his voice. “Come on. Let’s look around, take some photos. Then we’ll just retrace our steps.”
 

As Benjamin began making his way around the room’s edge, Cameron looked at the small object his father had given him. It
was
a coin, apparently — about the size of a half dollar. It seemed to be made of an unknown brown metal, battered, with a square hole in its center. Cameron turned it over, wondering if his father expected him to theorize on the coin’s origin or maybe on its extraterrestrial forging methods.

It was moot. He turned back into the chamber and was about to put it back down when his father stopped him with a glance.

“Keep it. Only the Mullah come here, and if they cared about it, they’d have taken it already. Like I said, a souvenir.”

Cameron nodded then turned to the other side of the room and the raised platform that had seemed to be calling his name. He peered at his father, who was exploring a cubby. Then, without knowing why, he reached up and touched the round thing on its top. He felt a shock, like static, and practically jumped away.

Benjamin turned back, seeing him totter.

“Did you slip?”
 

“Just a little.”
 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m … ”
 

What was he, exactly? Despite the shock — despite the fact that ceramic objects weren’t supposed to
issue
shocks — Cameron wanted to climb back up and touch the thing again. He still couldn’t see it properly without climbing onto the platform, but he could glimpse its edge. It had almost seemed to respond, conforming to his finger like dipping it in gel, despite the thing’s obvious solidity.
 

“Cameron?”
 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Then he squinted back up at the thing, which he’d swear was now glowing in the gloom. But that couldn’t be, and if it was, his father would say something. “But I could’ve sworn that—”
 

Benjamin cut him off, holding up a finger. Listening. Then, with something urgent invading his manner, Benjamin looked down at the napkin, turning it in circles, trying to make magic by mating the halves.
 

“Which way is out, Cameron?”
 

Cameron pointed the way they’d come.
 

“A
different
way. On here. Is this an exit? Is it this symbol here?”
 

Cameron followed his father’s finger. “I … yes, that’s the way out.”
 

“You’re sure?”
 

This time, yes. Of course he was. He had to be, or else he was a total failure.
 

“Yeah. But Dad, what’s — ?”

A mumbling. A grumbling. Coming from all around them. And then above, around, rock walls seemed to shift like some bizarre Rubik’s Cube changing configurations.

And then there was shouting.
 

The sound of rushing feet.
 

“What’s — ?” Cameron blurted suddenly terrified.