The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2) (12 page)

Billie’s fingers, unable to reach the top of the enormous
sarcophagus, slipped as she tried to climb up its sharp walls.

Tom shuffled down, and asked, “Want a lift?”

“Yeah,” she replied, wishing she didn’t need his help.

“Not a problem,” Tom said, lifting her onto his shoulders.

His hand, she noticed, slipped, catching her butt for
support – remaining there a moment longer than it should have. And then he quickly
removed it before she said anything. Billie reached further, and caught the top
of the stone block, allowing her to climb up.

For a second, she wondered if Tom had meant to place his
hand there. The minor indiscretion was soon lost in her desire to see the
looking glass.  

She stepped up onto her tippy toes, so that she could place
her eye right up to the optical lens. On the other side, Billie could see a
room. It was similar to the one that she was already in, and at its center,
another sarcophagus – only this one didn’t appear Mayan at all.

Forgetting about Tom’s actions, she said, “Do you think that
whoever’s been watching us is in the room directly above us?”

“No, I think they’re farther away than that,” Tom replied.

“Farther away? What are you talking about? Now that I’m up
here, I can see that this thing is only a few inches long, and clearly shows
the room above.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve already done the basic
arithmetic, and a few feet above us is the entrance to the pyramid. There’s no
way there’s another room. Besides, didn’t you notice that wherever that looking
glass seems to end up, it too, looks down upon a room, not up?”

“You’re right,” she said, chiding herself for letting her
nerves affect her usual circumspection. “Before, when I was climbing, you said
that I did something to change the image here, is that right?”

“Yes, I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, the
ball went from a dark, impenetrable blue, to this clear, window into what
appears to me to be another tomb.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Okay, help me down, I’m going
to retrace my steps and see if I can change it again.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, without wiping the grin off his
face.

Ordinarily, she would have sworn at him for his behavior,
but she was too enamored with their discovery to even think about him. He had
an attractive face, and was mostly harmless.

She climbed down and then up the base of the sarcophagus a
number of times. “Any changes?”

“Nothing,” he replied.

“There must have been something,” she said, and then saw it.
Along the base of the cradle for the missing scepter, stood a small wheel, with
a number of jagged edges, giving it the appearance of the cog on a bicycle. She
counted the edges. There were thirteen in total. She gave it the slightest of
turns, and the largest of the twelve stone spikes now pointed in another
direction. “Anything?”

“Yes, what the hell did you do?”

“Not much. I just rotated this stone dial. Why, what do you
see?”

“It appears to be a giant cave. There are markings on the
walls, but nothing that means anything to me.”

“Interesting,” she said, turning the dial again, “and now?”

“Another tomb.”

 “The first one we saw?”

“No, this one seems smaller. And the markings are
different.” 

Suddenly, she no longer saw the wall of the sarcophagus as a
number of indiscriminate pictographs, from seemingly random places and cultures
throughout history. Now, it appeared as though it were a map, with the power to
see different parts of the world.

She quickly examined the other images on the wall. There was
a
petroglyph of the Congo River, the pyramid of Giza, and a Siberian
rune with an inscription.

Rotating the stone again, she asked, “What do you see?”

“Another room. Only this one is definitely bigger. It
appears to be the final resting chamber of three separate kings.”

Her eyes then spotted a pair of Atlantean rings and bar.

She turned the dial again so that the stone spike and the
image perfectly aligned. “What about now?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Tom said.

“Try me.”

“It appears to be the remains of a ruined city... and the
city is submerged. The water is clear, and appears shallow, the sunlight from
above sprinkling through, as though from the ripples of the waves on the
surface. There are structures in the distance and they’re covered in –” 

“An orange metallic material,” Billie finished the sentence
for him.

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“Because I just pointed the dial towards Atlantis.”

*

Billie took a step back and then ran at the
sarcophagus. With two nimble paces, she was standing on top of it and said, “I
have to see it!”

“See what?” Tom asked.

“Atlantis!” she screamed.

“I thought you weren’t interested in
Atlantis?”

“No, I said that I wasn’t searching for it,
which is very different than not wanting to see it when it literally appears
before you.”

She moved closer towards Tom, trying to get
as close to the looking glass as possible. On the tips of her toes, her hand
gripped his for balance. She felt his other arm instinctively wrap behind her. 

Closing her left eye so that she could
focus on the looking glass, she saw the little blue light. At first it was opaque,
but then her eyes began to make sense of the turbid vision on the other side.

A ruined city appeared.

It was submerged by water, and appeared
close to the surface, as though it had remained hidden all these years in no
more than thirty or forty feet. Glimmerings of light from the ripples of the
ocean above could still be seen. And on the walls of the remaining structures,
an orange metal.    

“
My God – it is Atlantis!
” Billie
said, and then, kissed him on his lips.

“What was that?” he replied, an attractive smile, bordering
on absent confusion, radiating fondly.

She was still holding on to him and noticeably let go before
explaining, “See this orange material?”

“Yes… it looks kind of like bronze and copper.”

“Only it’s not. It’s Orichalcum!”

“What the hell’s that?”

“Orichalcum is a kind of fabled metal, described in a number
of very old writings, most notably, the Critias Dialogue recorded by Plato. Orichalcum
was considered second only to gold in value, and only ever found and mined in
Atlantis. A vibrant orange in color, it was thought to be an alloy, containing
a unique combination of gold, copper, zinc, iron and lead, with gold the
highest percentage.”

She saw the pupils in Tom’s beautiful hazel eyes swell.

Few, she noticed, were immune to the allure of Atlantis. “If
it was an alloy, can’t people simply mimic it?”

“No. What made Orichalcum so unique was that it wasn’t a
manmade alloy, at all. Instead, it was a naturally occurring ore, which was
mined. Despite knowing the mix, the alloy can’t seem to be reproduced,
artificially. One theory is that volcanic activity molded the combination of
raw materials into the unique alloy. This, in turn, has led many archeologists
to search for Atlantis where ancient volcanoes are now submerged. But there has
never been any real proof that it or Atlantis even existed – until now.”

*

Tom stared at her perfect face.

It was only for a couple seconds, but maybe, just too long.
Billie, he decided, had the rare combination of an almost demure smile, perfect
teeth, and brown captivating eyes. Right now, those eyes sparkled with
excitement, making her even more attractive, if that were possible.

How such a face could harbor an intelligent mind yet explode
with such offensive language simply baffled him. Nonetheless, he would have paid
a very high price to kiss those lips again.  

“Do you understand what this means?” Billie asked, stepping
back. Tom reluctantly let go of her firm back.

“Hmm…That you’ll forgive Sam for dragging you away from
Antarctica?”

“Yes. Wait, no. I’m still pissed as all hell about that.
This means we just discovered something that’s been lost for more than two
thousand years!”

Tom noted that she made no reference to the kiss. It was an
accident, brought on by her excitement, and nothing more. Trying to focus on
their discovery instead, he said, “There’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“We still have no idea where that looking glass has been
taking us.”

She stopped looking, and looked back at him. “You’re right.
But there must be some way to find out. I mean, it isn’t electronic. It’s just
some form of translucent crystal. Atlantis must be close.”

“Are you sure?”

For the first time since he met her, Billie looked
uncomfortable, as though there were a crack in her certainty. “Yes, of course.
Why?”

“Because you told me that the map below showed images from
Siberia through to Africa. Which means, apart from now seeing the image of that
ruined city, we’re no closer to discovering it than the rest of the world in
the past two thousand years.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said.

“How so?”

“Because we know that it’s real.”

*

The two spent the rest of the day exploring the thirteen
ancient visions through the looking glass. Billie thought she must understand
what Alice felt like when fell down the rabbit hole. Her entire world had
changed in the space of a few hours. She had just about given up finding any
more leads on the Master Builders, and was ready to return to the surface, when
the discovery of the looking glass occurred.

It wasn’t until well past midnight that she finally went to
bed. Unable to sleep, her mind kept returning to the events of the day.

The discovery would change everything.

She had hoped it would be there too, but despite looking
throughout the entire map, there was no evidence of what she’d really been
looking for.  

The Lost City in the Clouds

Billie had been looking for it since she was just six years
old. Ever since her grandfather first introduced her to the myth, but like him,
she knew that it was real. One day she’d find it, but this tomb wasn’t going to
provide that answer.

She put the thoughts out of her mind.  So much had happened,
and there was so much more that needed to be done.

And there was the kiss, too.

That, she thought, was a surprise. It was an accident, of
course – she’d never mix business and pleasure. But it was unexpectedly nice,
too.

In the sleeping bag a few feet away, Tom, despite lying down
only minutes before, appeared to be sound asleep.

Figures…

She watched him for a while. She’d never seen someone sleep
so soundly.  She recalled his face after she’d kissed him. He almost looked
hurt that she hadn’t mentioned anything about it afterwards, and then, like a
gentleman, he carried on with the pretense that nothing had happened.

And nothing would happen…

It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. She’d
accepted long ago that the hunt for the
Lost City in the Clouds
had
taken its toll on her social life. But that was expected for any woman trying
to achieve something in the male dominated world of archeology.

She closed her eyes, and imagined herself kissing his boyish
lips.

It was unexpectedly pleasant…

It would be nice to accidentally do it again…

What made the matter worse was her knowledge that she was
the one who held the power in the relationship. Tom had already given away his
hand – he wanted her, that was plain as day, in his pained face.
The pained
face that I caused him…
But she did have the ability to change that. She could
have anything she wanted.

And why shouldn’t I?

When she couldn’t find an answer to that question, Billie
slid out of her sleeping bag. Being naturally warm blooded, she slept in
nothing more than her underwear. Next to her were her cargo shorts, white
shirt, and handgun. Her first instinct was to get dressed, but the sight of her
weapon stopped her. She still hadn’t told him about it. Carefully, she
concealed the weapon with her shirt, leaving all three on the ground, and
walked towards Tom.

“You awake Tom?”

He made no response.

She stood up, and approached him, still uncertain what she
wanted. It wasn’t until she saw his innocent, sleeping, face that she decided
what she really wanted.

A girlish grin crossed her face as she realized what it was.

“That Motherfucker!” she swore loudly, forgetting what she
was about to do.

Tom sat up instantly, looking as though he was ready to kill
any intruder. “What?”

“Up there on the wall!”

He jumped up, grabbing the hammer next to him as a though it
were a deadly weapon – and in his, it probably would be.

“I don’t see anything. What is it?” he whispered.

“It’s right there… the Mahogany Ship!”

At the entrance to the mine shaft, Sam looked at Frank’s
serious face and said, “What if we were wrong about the coin having to come
from further upstream?”

“No, that can’t be right. The coin didn’t travel on its own.
The river would have been required to move it to where you found it. Therefore,
the coin must have entered the river upstream, and then flowed over the
centuries until it became imbedded in the soft, limestone sediment.”

“You’re right about the coin having come from further
upstream, but what if the Mahogany ship continued sailing downstream, taking
with it whatever treasures she was carrying?”

“Shit, you’re right!” Frank replied. “Why didn’t we think of
that? Of course, the water level has been changing heights over the centuries.
If the Mahogany ship somehow entered the water system, it’s conceivable that it
then sailed silently further downstream, until it reached a point where its
size precluded it from further movement.”

“It’s hard to imagine a ship of that size moving through a
cave system at all, but the tunnel would be large enough.”

“Would it?” Frank asked.

“I’m sure it would.”

Frank opened the computer documents containing known
measurements of each of the tunnels. Pointing to the only exit tunnel, he said,
“No, it’s only forty feet high. There’s no way anything as large as what the Mahogany
Ship was described as could possibly get through there.”

“Unless its masts were destroyed?”

“Even then, would the thought of a forty-foot ship sound
like the description that the survivors of the Emily Rose gave of the Mahogany
Ship?”

“No, but would you trust the description of a bunch of
starving survivors to provide an accurate account of the ship?”

Raising his left eyebrow, Frank countered, “I would have been
surprised if they all gave the same inaccurate one.”

Sam paused his speech for just over a moment. He knew he had
the right answer, but just didn’t quite know how to prove it.

His eyes then lit up.

“No, I know what happened. It’s so obvious – I can’t believe
we didn’t think of it earlier. Come on, we have work to do.”

*

An hour later, Sam and Frank were standing at the diving
platform inside the Mahogany Cavern. Their equipment checked and then
rechecked, they were about to put Sam’s theory to the test.

Opening his dive tank to full, Sam said, “A similar thing
happened with the Magdalena – a lost airship from World War II, filled with
Jewish treasure. The silt had built up over the years until she was sitting
high and dry.”

“But the tunnel’s still below the waterline,” Frank replied.

“Yes, but I realized what the movement of silt could do in
75 years, then in the 200 years since the Mahogany Ship was last seen above
ground, the size of that tunnel could have changed extensively.”

“You seem pretty certain of yourself.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make sense of all of
this. It’s the only explanation.”

Sam then placed the mask over his face, and pin dived into
the water below. The two Seadoos were tied up, just below the work platform. He
waited for Frank to follow and start the little electric motor on the Seadoo,
and then took off in the direction of the flowing water.

It only took a couple minutes to reach the entrance to the
downstream tunnel. For the first time since he arrived, Sam noticed that it
appeared to form an incomplete semicircle, imagining just how large it could be
if that circle had been allowed to be completed.

He drove his Seadoo to the base of the tunnel’s entrance. The
sand was deep. It would take weeks to dig it out to know for sure, but it
certainly looked like the depth of the tunnel could be doubled if the sand were
removed.

“How far have you traveled down this tunnel?” Sam asked.

“We haven’t. We all thought that the Mahogany Ship could
have never gotten this far.”

“All right, here’s to hoping that she lies on the other end
of this tunnel.”

Sam then drove his machine into the tunnel, his powerful LED
headlight shining on the long passage ahead. The flow of the water was
stronger, having been fed by the other five upstream channels. He was glad that
he was using his motorized Seadoo and doubted very much that he could swim
against the current if he had to. In the back of his mind, something told him
that he should have run a safety line, but he was too eager to know the truth.

Nearly an hour later, Frank drove towards him, “Sam, how
much further do you want to go?”

“Until we reach the Mahogany Ship,” Sam replied.

“Are you sure? We haven’t set up for a prolonged dive.”

“Yes.”

Sam continued, at full speed.

Frank asked, “Don’t you want to stop and search the areas
that we’ve already covered?”

“No. If it’s here, we’ll see her.”

Sam looked down at the energy marker on his Seadoo. It was
reading orange. He had plenty of power left. A little more than half what he
started the day with, but the return trip, against the current, was going to
exhaust a lot more power.

He continued, driven on by the mad desire to find the fabled
ship.

Frank tapped on his dashboard and said, “Sam, this is it. We
have to turn around, or you and I are going to have a pretty bad day, and one
hell of a swim back.”

Sam looked at his own power monitor. It had moved further
towards the left than he’d expected.
Maybe, he’d travelled further than he
thought.
He would have to turn around.

“Okay, you turn around. I just want to see what’s beyond
this bend.”

Frank shook his head. “No, we go together or not at all.”

“Suit yourself, Frank. We go together then.”

“And then, no matter what, we turn around?”

“Agreed,” Sam replied.

The dark tunnel appeared to narrow again, giving Sam the
worry that he’d been wrong again. No ship could have travelled through such a
narrow section. The speed of the current increased again, and the height of the
tunnel dropped so much that he had to lean forward to stop his head hitting the
ceiling.

As the pull from the powerful current gripped him, Sam
realized his mistake. He was never going to make it back against this sort of
river flow. Then he came around the corner, and forgot about all his concerns.

In front of him, were the remains of the Mahogany Ship.

*

Sam could only see part of the bow of the ship, but even
that much of it indicated how enormous the grand vessel once was. The stern and
main compartments were entirely buried in sand and river silt. Instantly, he
realized the reason for the narrowing of the tunnel – the Mahogany Ship had
become lodged ahead, and over the last two centuries, become filled with sand and
rocks, until the tunnel became nearly completely blocked.

The bow itself was raised above the waterline.

“My God, we found it!” Frank said.

“Of course we did.”

“I never doubted you, mate.”

“Come on, Frank, now that we’re here, we may as well explore
it,” Sam said, dragging his Seadoo up on the submerged sandy beach.

Frank nodded his head and followed.

Just before the waterline Sam saw the damage. The gash in
the massive hull appeared unnatural. As though a single rock had torn through
her hull at that precise location, leaving the rest of the beautiful ship
unscathed. Sam gave it minimal thought before proceeding to enter through it.

“Are you certain it’s the Mahogany Ship?” Frank asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Sam swam through the dark hull, and past the old ladders,
until he reached a cabin above the waterline. Carefully bracing himself on the
inner deck, Sam expected its timbers to crumble beneath his weight, but the
rare, blackened wood remained strong as steel.

He was certain that it wasn’t mahogany, but that didn’t
matter. Nothing in the notes from the survivors of the Emily Rose, ever
determined that it was indeed made out of mahogany, only that it was a
blackened wood, unfamiliar to them all.

Against his better judgement, Sam climbed the ladder and
stood on top of the now dry inside cabin. It was dark, and the wood seemed
unnaturally sound. He removed his facemask and breathed the stale air.

Frank looked at him, waited another minute, before shrugging
his shoulders and removing his facemask too. “This ship is hundreds of years
old. You sure it’s going to take our weight?”

“No clue, but she seems pretty strong to me.” Pointing his
flashlight to the walkway leading towards the aft of the ship, Sam said, “Shall
we?”

“All right, but if this thing starts to break apart, I’m
going to be out of here before you can stop me.”

“Agreed.”

Sam walked confidently over the sturdy floorboards. He’d
already guessed why they were in such a good condition, but all the same, he knew
he should have been more circumspect about exploring the ancient wreck. They
looked down several openings in the walkway. Each appeared empty, all evidence
of the original occupants of the vessel now gone.

“Seems deserted,” Frank said.

“What did you expect, treasure?”

“Well, yes, actually. We did start this hunt with a gold coin.
I kind of expected more of the stuff.”

Sam laughed. “Everyone assumes that sunken ships carry gold.
In my experience, they normally carry rotten wood, and a myriad of sea life. 
Here of course, being fresh water, and in an area devoid of light, the ship is
just an old ship, and nothing more. I hope Mr. Rodriguez isn’t too unhappy with
his investment.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll just be glad that we found her, but
he’s keen to prove that she was Spanish, and would have been bloody heartbroken
if you’d found something that suggested she was not.” Frank then looked a solid
door at the end of the internal companionway. “What about that?”

“The door?”

The door looked more like something out of Fort Knox than a
door on a ship. “Whoever built that wanted to keep something out.”

“Or something in?” Sam suggested.

Frank’s arms shook suddenly, like a cold shiver. The
suggestion appeared to have triggered a nerve, Sam noticed. Then, shrugging the
thought off, Frank said, “Nah, something like that there… was designed to keep
something precious in. I’ve worked with enough gold in my time to know when I’m
close to something of value.”

“We’ll see.”

Sam pushed on the door, but it wasn’t going to move. He
kicked at it and received the same response.

There was a large keyhole, made of iron, in the middle of
the door. The iron had well and truly rusted, leaving more of a hole than lock,
which was large enough that he could see through to the contents of the other
side of the door.

In an instant, he saw it.

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of gold.”

*

Sam paused, studying how the door connected to its frame.
Despite the keyhole, the whole thing appeared to be completely molded to the
frame surrounding it, as though a team of carpenters were required to open it.

And perhaps there once were? 

“You want a hand with that door?” Frank asked.

“Sure, what’ve you got in mind? I don’t think even the two
of us would have any hope in knocking it down.”

Bringing out a diamond tipped angle grinder, Frank replied,
“This.”

“Wow. What were you expecting, bringing that?”

“You thought I’d be stupid enough to enter a submerged
shipwreck, without a means of cutting my way out if things went wrong? No way,
I look after myself.”

The story didn’t seem to match up, but Sam was glad not to
have to return to the dive platform in the Mahogany Cavern before being able to
access the locked room.

Minutes later, Frank had cut a hole in the door, large
enough for the two of them to shimmy through.

On the back wall of the ship’s vaulted room, Sam could see
the remains of a very old treasure chest, now broken open. And inside the
dilapidated chest, were at least two hundred gold coins.

Sam stepped forward and picked one up.

It was identical to the others he’d seen. The gold, having
lost none of its luster, sparkled as though it were only just minted yesterday.

“Frank, I think we just found the Mahogany Ship.”

“That we did, Sam.”

Sam carefully looked around the rest of the room. It was
almost completely empty, with the exception of the gold coins.

But is it here?
Sam thought, disappointed that he
hadn’t found it yet.

The two explored the room and where they could, accessed the
rest of the ship. Nothing indicated that it was even still there, but Sam knew
that it was early days yet. For the most part, he had at least found what he
and his father had searched for all those years ago.

After a number of hours of searching, it was time to return
to the Mahogany Cave. Sam was the first to look at the remaining power on his
Seadoo. It was low, but he might make it back. Then again, he might not.

“How much juice have you got in yours, Frank?”

“Enough, maybe. It will be close. I kind of wish we’d
brought a reserve power supply.”

“My fault. Okay, Frank, you take my battery pack. That way,
when yours becomes depleted you’ll have mine to fall back on.”

Frank looked at Sam’s battery monitor, already close to
empty. He was a bright man – Sam had no doubt that he could predict the outcome
of them both trying to return to the Mahogany Cave. “Okay, thanks Sam. We’ll
come back for you as soon as we can.”

“Not a problem. I’d like some time alone with this old lady,
anyway.”

Frank unclipped the power pack and put it in his pocket.
With a quick wave of his right arm, the man disappeared, leaving Sam alone, to
explore the cold, dark, confines of the ancient ship.

If it’s still here, I’ll find it.

*