Текст книги "Deep Fathom"
Автор книги: James Rollins
Жанр:
Триллеры
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 27 страниц)
“Now you!” Karen urged.
“Not yet.” Miyuki disappeared again.
What was she doing?
Miyuki’s legs reappeared. Karen reached up and guided her friend’s ankles. “Okay. You’re clear.”
Miyuki let go, landing almost on top of Karen, who held her friend steady. “Good job.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Miyuki muttered, clutching her satchel of equipment tight to her chest. She caught Karen’s glance. “I wasn’t leaving Gabriel behind.”
Karen grinned, despite the situation. She bent and collected her pistol. It seemed each of them had their own security blanket. Holstering the gun, she tossed the strap over her shoulder. “C’mon.”
She hopped off the altar, and Miyuki followed. As soon as the petite woman left the stone table, they heard gears grinding overhead. The altar stone and its platform thrust back up, rose on a basalt pillar and jammed back into place.
“Pressure sensitive,” Karen said with awe at the keen counterbalance system. It astounded her that the mechanism functioned after being immersed for centuries in the salty sea.
Gloom settled over them. Distantly, the drip of water echoed up from the neighboring stairwell. Miyuki took a flashlight from her bag, clicked it on and shone it forward. She wore a determined expression. “You go first.”
Karen nodded, and led the way. The stair was narrow, but the ceiling high enough to walk upright. Within the passage, the echoing drip of water grew louder. Karen splayed out her light, ran a finger along the damp wall. “The stone blocks are fitted perfectly. I can barely feel the seams.”
Miyuki made a noncommittal noise. She kept glancing back over her shoulder as they moved slowly down the stairs. “Do you think they’ll follow?”
Karen directed her light forward again. “I…I don’t know. But if they do, let’s be as far away from here as possible.”
Miyuki was silent for several steps. Her breathing, though, was strained and tight. She finally asked the question uppermost in Karen’s mind. “Where do you think this leads?”
“I’d guess some royal burial chamber. But I’m not sure. This passage is pretty steep. We must be close to the base of the pyramid by now.”
Proving her theory true, the stairs ended at a tunnel. The next passage led in a straight line away from there. A long way. Karen’s light failed to find an end. She assumed the tunnel led beyond the pyramid itself.
Frowning, she moved down to the last step. Ahead, the tunnel lay partially flooded. At least a foot of water covered the floor. Within the beam of her light, Karen watched trickles of water drip and flow from cracks in the ceiling. “We must be underneath the pyramid…underneath the sea itself,” she muttered. “Look at the walls here. They’re not carved stone blocks, but solid rock. It must have taken decades to tunnel out this passage.”
Miyuki leaned beside her. “Maybe not. It might just be a lava tube. Japan is riddled with them.”
“Hmm…maybe.”
Miyuki stared over at the dripping water. “I don’t know about this. Can’t we just wait—”
A ringing sound cut her off, echoing down the stairs to them. Metal on rock. The two women’s eyes met.
“They’re trying to dig themselves inside,” Karen said.
Miyuki pushed Karen toward the watery passage. “Get going!”
Karen splashed into the water and gasped as the cold clamped around her ankles. The tang of salt was sharp in the stagnant air. Miyuki followed, holding her equipment bag tight. They continued down the long tunnel, their splashes echoing up and down the passage. The noise made them both edgy.
Karen ran her fingers along the wall here, too. It was still smooth, almost glassy. Too smooth to have been carved by crude tools. It seemed a natural passage, as Miyuki had suggested. She tapped the wall with a knuckle.
“Don’t do that!” Miyuki yelled at her.
The shout startled Karen. She dropped her hand.
“Do you want to drown us?” Miyuki said.
“This passage has been down here for ages.”
“Still, don’t knock on the walls. After the quakes and uplift, you don’t know how fragile it might be.”
“All right,” Karen said, “I’ll leave it alone.” She turned her attention to the passage ahead, which seemed to widen. She increased her pace. Could it be the end? She prayed for another exit. The ringing strike of metal on stone still echoed periodically behind them. Their pursuers were not giving up.
Splashing in water up to her knees now, Karen hurried forward, then stopped. She looked around, mouth gaping open. The passage continued, but here the tunnel ballooned out. The ceiling became a dome overhead, as glassy and smooth as the passage itself. If this was a lava tube, a bubble must have formed at this spot.
Karen wagged her flashlight around. Overhead, embedded bits of glittering quartz dotted the roof. At first she thought it was a random pattern, then she turned in a circle, neck craned back. “It’s a starscape. See, there’s the Orion constellation.”
Miyuki looked less impressed. She glanced over her shoulder as another echoing strike sounded behind them. “We should keep going.”
Karen lowered her light. She knew Miyuki was right, but her legs would not move. Nothing like this had ever been discovered among the islands of the South Pacific. Who had built this? Her light, now pointing forward, settled on a waist-high section of the wall. A sharp glint attracted her attention. She narrowed her eyes. A small niche had been dug out of the smooth wall. A cubbyhole. Something inside reflected back her light. Karen approached it.
Miyuki started to speak, but Karen stopped her with an upraised hand. She bent to peer into the tiny alcove. Resting inside was a palm-size crystal star. Five points glittered brightly under her penlight. It was as if a rainbow had exploded inside. As she shifted her light, she noticed deep scratches on the nearby wall and took a step back. She had almost missed it at first. She cast her light along the curved wall.
“My God!”
Meticulously carved into the stone were lines of small symbols. Three rows of them. Clearly some form of archaic language.
Bending closer, she touched the first symbol with a finger. The wall etchings were precise, carved deep, as if written with a diamond-pointed tool. But for all the precision, the symbols themselves were crude. Rough hieroglyphics. Pictures of animals and men in distorted shapes and postures. Strange icons and repeated symbols.
Karen tilted her head, moving the light. The rows continued, waist-high around the bubble in the tunnel.
She turned to Miyuki, her breath rushed. “I need a picture of this.”
“What?” Her friend looked at her as if she were crazy.
Karen straightened, reaching for Miyuki’s bag. “Video record it. Save it. I can’t risk this being lost.”
Miyuki scowled. “What are you thinking? We need to get out here.”
“The looters might destroy this. Or the whole area might sink again.”
“I’m more worried about it sinking with us in it.”
Karen pleaded with her eyes.
Finally, Miyuki sighed and passed the satchel to Karen, who held it as Miyuki shuffled through it for her tiny digital camera. Freeing it, she passed Karen her own larger flashlight. “I’ll need plenty of light. Follow as I record.” Miyuki returned to the wall, camera raised. She slowly edged around the chamber, tracing the wrap of ancient writing until she made a complete circuit.
Karen realized something as they worked. “It’s not three rows,” she mumbled. “It’s one continuous line – starting at the crystal star and wrapping around and around the room, like the groove in a vinyl record.”
“Or a curled snake,” Miyuki said, lowering the camera as she finished recording. She started to put it away. “Satisfied?”
Karen passed Miyuki the large flashlight. “Could you get a couple shots of the star map on the ceiling?”
Miyuki frowned but took the flashlight.
Snugging the equipment satchel over her shoulder, Karen turned away. “I’m going to take the crystal artifact with me. We can’t let the looters get it.” She crossed to the cubbyhole and reached inside, grabbed the star and tried to pick it up, but failed. She gave it a cautious tug, but it didn’t budge. “Goddamn. It’s cemented in place.”
Finished with the recording, Miyuki joined Karen. “Then leave it.” She peered down the tunnel. The sound of digging had stopped a few minutes ago. “I don’t like this quiet. Maybe they got through.”
Karen scrunched up her brow. She didn’t want to leave the crystal star behind. “Shine your light in here so I can see what I’m doing.”
Miyuki moved closer and shone her light into the cubby. Again the rainbow brilliance sparked sharply. “It’s beautiful,” she conceded in a hushed voice.
Again Karen palmed the star and tugged hard. This time it popped free easily. Caught off guard, she stumbled back, bumping into Miyuki. Her friend’s flashlight went flying and splashed into the water.
Miyuki bent to retrieve it. “I hope you’re done,” she said, fishing through the seawater. “Lucky the flashlight’s waterproof.”
Karen held the star against her belly. It was like cradling a bowling ball. She had to hold it with both hands. The star hadn’t been cemented into the niche, she simply hadn’t expected it to be so heavy. “This thing weighs a ton,” she said. She lifted the star and dropped it into a side pocket of the equipment bag. The bag now pulled hard on her shoulder. “Okay. Let’s keep going.”
“We should hurry. I don’t like how quiet—”
The explosion caught them by surprise. The two women were thrown to their knees as the tunnel shook. The ringing blast deafened them.
Karen twisted around, keeping her bag above the water. She fumbled for her pistol. Miyuki pointed her light back down the tunnel. Smoke billowed toward them from the far end.
“Dynamite,” Karen said. “They must have lost their patience with a pickax.”
As the ringing faded, a low groan filled the tunnel. The drip of water became a deep gurgle. A few meters away a spout of water erupted, spraying a thick stream of seawater. Closer, a crack opened overhead, weeping water over them.
“It’s breaking apart!” Miyuki yelled in terror.
Up and down the passage, more and more spouts opened. Falling rocks splashed.
“Run!” Karen shouted. Already the water rose from knees to thighs.
Karen led the way down the next tunnel, Miyuki struggling behind her, fighting through the deepening water. “Where are we going?”
Karen had no answer. First fire – now water. If not for her numbing fear, she would have appreciated the irony. But not now. Ahead, the dark passage stretched beyond the reach of their lights…quickly filling with frigid seawater.
8
Endgame
July 26, 5:45 P.M.
Northwest of Enewak Atoll, Central Pacific
In his usual red trunks and white cotton robe, Jack relaxed in a lounge chair on the bow deck of his ship. His hair was still wet from the long shower, but the late afternoon remained warm. It felt good to soak in the last rays of the setting sun. His dog, Elvis, lay sprawled beside the lounge.
Across the deck, the sleek contours of the Nautilus 2000reflected the light off its titanium surface. Robert worked under the dry-docked submersible, inspecting every square inch, while Lisa sat inside, doing the same. So far the sub seemed to have withstood the extreme pressures without a problem. The only concern: the radio glitch. Lisa had been troubleshooting the computer and com systems, trying to trace the gremlin in the works, but so far without success.
“How’s your jaw?”
Jack turned his attention back to his companion. Admiral Mark Houston relaxed on a neighboring lounge. He puffed on a thick cigar, one of Jack’s prized stock. With his other hand, the admiral scratched Elvis behind an ear, earning a slow thump of a tail.
“I’ve had worse.” Jack rubbed his jaw. It still ached dully.
Houston held out his cigar, inspecting it with pleasure. “Cuban tobacco…I’m breaking so many laws…”
“But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”
He replaced the cigar, inhaling deeply. “Oh, yeah.” His eyes narrowed with appreciation as he exhaled.
Except for the admiral and his two personal aides, Jack had the Deep Fathomback to himself, at least for now. With the two black boxes wrapped and under armed guard, David Spangler and the other government investigators had left immediately for the USS Gibraltar. The admiral had remained behind. He would be alerted as soon as any word came through on the flight data and cockpit recorders. Until then, everyone was holding their breath.
“So I take it,” Houston said, “that your reunion with Commander Spangler didn’t resolve anything.”
“What did you expect?” Jack slumped in his lounge chair. First the Gibraltar, then Admiral Houston, now David Spangler. All together again. He had run from his past for over a decade, and ended up right where he started. He sighed. “Nothing changes. Even before the shuttle accident, David hated me. He resented that I took his place on the shuttle.”
“It wasn’t your decision. It was NASA’s jurisdiction.”
“Yeah, tell that to Spangler. We had a major blowout the night before the launch. I was almost scrubbed.”
“I remember. He found out you were dating his sister during the year you spent at NASA training.” Houston pointed his cigar at Jack’s swollen lip. “And it seems that old grudge is still strong.”
Jack shook his head. “He lost his sister. Who can blame him?”
“You should. We’ve lost other shuttles. Everyone knows the risks.” The admiral sucked on his cigar. “Besides, there’s something I just don’t like about our Mr. Spangler. I never did. There’s always been a lot of hatred buried beneath that cold surface. I’m not surprised he’s fallen into the employ of Nicolas Ruzickov at the CIA. Those two sharks deserve each other.”
Jack was surprised at the admiral’s words. His face showed it.
Houston’s voice grew stern. “Just watch yourself around him, Jack.” He pointed his cigar at Jack’s swollen eye. “Don’t allow your guilt to weaken your guard. Not around him.”
Jack remembered the keen hatred in David’s eyes: This isn’t over, Kirkland. Perhaps he had better take his former commander’s advice and steer clear of the man, he thought. Jack closed his eyes and leaned back. “If only I had spotted the glitch a few seconds earlier…or held her hand tighter.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Jack. But, you know what, sometimes shit happens. You can’t see every bullet aimed at your head. Life just isn’t that fair.”
“When did you become such a philosopher?”
Houston tapped his cigar. “Age grants you a certain wisdom.”
From across the deck Lisa called to him, perched at the sub’s hatch. “Jack, come see this.”
Groaning, Jack pushed himself up. “What?”
Lisa just waved to him.
“All right. Hang on.” He got off his lounger, and the admiral sat up straighter, preparing to follow. “Relax,” Jack said. “I’ll be right back.”
Elvis rolled to his chest, starting to push to his legs.
Jack held out a hand, stopping the dog. “You, too. Stay.” The German shepherd sank back to the deck with a clearly irritated huff.
Houston patted Elvis’s side. “We old men will keep each other company.”
Jack rolled his eyes, then crossed the deck. He climbed down the stepladder to join Lisa. She lowered herself into the sub’s seat, and Jack leaned over her. “What’s up?”
“Look at the Nautilus’s internal clock.” She pointed to the clock’s red digital numbers. The seconds scrolled normally. “Now look at my wristwatch.”
Jack studied the Swatch on her wrist, then looked back at the digital clock. It was off by a little over five minutes. “So it’s slow by a few minutes.”
“Before the dive, I synchronized the clock myself when I calibrated the Bio-Sensor program. It was exact to the hundredth of a second.”
“I still don’t understand the significance.”
“I compared the time gap with the Bio-Sensor log. The difference in clocks exactly matches the length of time you were off-line.”
Jack crinkled his brow. “So the glitch must have affected the clock, too. Must be a short in one of the batteries.”
“No, the batteries checked out fine,” she mumbled, and looked up at him. “When you were off-line, did you see the clock stop?”
Jack shook his head, frown lines creasing the corners of his lips. “No. In fact, I remember checking. The clock was running normally the whole time.”
Lisa wiggled up off the seat. “It doesn’t make any sense. The diagnostics of the systems are perfect. Jack, is there anything you’re not telling me?”
He glanced over his shoulder. The admiral was lost in his appreciation of his cigar. Jack lowered his voice. During the postdive briefing, Jack had glossed over the details of the strange crystal pillar. No one seemed interested anyway. “That pillar I discovered down there…”
“Yeah. The one on the disk you gave Charlie.”
Jack bit his lip. He didn’t want to sound crazy. He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. The pillar was giving off some strange vibrations or harmonics. It screwed with my compass. I could even feel it on my skin, an itchy tingle like ants crawling all over.”
Lisa furrowed her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I didn’t want to prejudice your examination of the Nautilus.If there was any other explanation, I wanted you to find it.”
Lisa’s cheeks grew red. “Jesus Christ, you know me better than that. Either way, I would have been just as thorough.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Lisa scooted out of the sub. Jack helped her onto the ladder. Her eyes flicked toward the admiral, then back to Jack. “Charlie is still holed up with George, studying that secret disk of yours. I’m going to find out if they’ve learned anything.” She shoved past. “You really should have told me, Jack.”
“What do you think it means?”
Lisa shrugged. “Beats me, but it’s worth checking out.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Robert, the marine biologist, crawled from under the sub’s tail. “All the seals check out fine, Jack. If you want to take her for another dive, you should have no problems.”
Jack nodded, distracted. “Robert, could you keep the admiral company for a few minutes? I have some brandy in the cupboard under the microwave.”
“Yeah, I know where it’s at. But what’s up?”
“We’ll fill you in with the details as soon as we have any,” Lisa answered, casting an angry look at Jack. She moved off.
Jack called across the deck to Admiral Houston. “I’ll be right back!”
He was answered with a nod and a dismissive wave.
Jack followed Lisa to the lower deck hatch. She descended the steep stair ahead of him, back stiff. This first of the lower levels contained Robert’s wet lab, the ship’s library, and Charlie’s tiny work station. Below were the crew’s cabins.
Lisa led the way through the wet lab to Charlie’s smaller compartment. She knocked on the steel door.
“Who is it?” Charlie called out to them.
“Lisa and Jack! Open up!”
After a short pause, Jack heard the locks unlatch and the door creak open slightly. Charlie peered out at them. “Just making sure you’re alone.” He sounded excited. The geologist pulled the door the rest of the way open. “C’mon inside…you have to see this.”
“You found something?” Jack asked as he and Lisa entered.
“Oh, yeah, mon, you could say that.”
The geology lab was no bigger than a single car garage, but every square inch was utilized. Equipment and tools were stacked neatly on shelves and counters: rock saws, drills, sieves, scales, magnetometers, even a complete ASC Core Analysis System. Jack was ignorant of most of the equipment’s use. This was Charlie’s domain.
With a dual doctorate in geology and geophysics, the Jamaican geologist could have taught at any university. But instead he ended up on Jack’s boat, doing his own research. “I didn’t earn my degrees to hole up in no classroom,” he had explained seven years ago, eyes bright with excitement. “Not when there is so much to explore out here. The deep ocean seabed, Jack! That’s where the Earth’s history and future are written. Down there! It’s waiting for someone to read it. And that someone is me!”
As Jack entered the lab now, he saw the same excitement in Charlie’s eyes. The geologist waved them over to his worktable. A television and video recorder had been set atop it.
Crouched before it was the ship’s historian. The professor leaned only a few inches from the video screen, squinting through his bifocals. George scribbled on a pad. “Amazing…simply amazing,” he mumbled as he worked.
Jack and Lisa moved to either side of him, trying to get a better look at the monitor. “What did you find?” Jack asked.
George finally seemed to realize their presence. He turned, his eyes wide. “You have to go down there again!” he said in a rush, clutching Jack’s sleeve.
“What? Why?”
“We should start at the beginning,” Charlie interrupted. He pointed the remote, and the video image reversed. On the screen, Jack watched the view of the crystal spire vanish into the ocean gloom. Once he’d rewound it far enough, Charlie stopped the DVD and allowed it to play forward. The obelisk slowly reappeared as Charlie spoke. “You were right, Jack. The crystalline substance appears natural. I’ve analyzed the video closely, and from the fracturing of the planes and uniformity of light refraction, it must be a spike of pure crystal.”
“But what type? Quartz?”
Charlie tilted his head, watching the video. “No. That’s just it. I don’t know. At least not yet. But I’d sell the Fathomfor a sliver of it.”
“So you think it’s something new?”
The tall Jamaican nodded. “Nowhere on this planet is there an environment like the one down there.” Charlie tapped at the screen. The sub slowly circled the spire, showing the brilliant shaft from every angle. The video image was crisp and detailed. Flawless. There was no sign of the interference that was described topside. “At these extreme pressures of seawater and salinity, who knows how crystals might grow?”
Jack sat on one of the stools. He leaned closer to the screen. “So what you’re saying is that we’re the first people ever to see such a crystal creation?”
Charlie laughed, drawing Jack’s eye away from the screen. “No. I’m not saying that, mon…I’m not saying that at all.” Charlie manipulated the remote’s shuttle, slowing the recording.
Jack watched the spire slow its spin as the submersible finished its circuit. Charlie stopped the video just as the sub’s xenon headlamps began to swing away. Jack remembered this was the moment when he had turned back to continue his search for the black boxes. He had been looking elsewhere and missed what his camera picked up next.
With the light cast at an angle across the nearest plane of the obelisk, slight imperfections could be seen marring its crystalline surface.
“What is that?”
“Proof that we’re not the first to discover this crystal.” Charlie played with the remote and zoomed in on the imperfections. The image swelled on the monitor. The imperfections grew into rows of tiny markings, too regular and precise to be natural. Jack leaned in closer. Though the enlarged video image was fuzzy, there was no mistaking what he was seeing.
George spoke it aloud, voice hushed with awe. “It’s writing. Some type of ancient inscription.”
“But at those depths?” Jack stared in disbelief. Etched deep into the crystal were blocks and rows of tiny iconlike images: animals, trees, distorted figures, geometric shapes.
Jack could not dismiss what he was seeing. Each symbol was carved into the smooth surface, then filled with a shiny metallic compound. It was no optical illusion.
It was ancient writing…on a spire two thousand feet underwater.
Off the coast of Yonaguni Island, Okinawa Prefecture
Karen held her penlight above her head as she fought the growing depth of the water. She slogged forward, the water now past her waist. She shrugged the equipment bag higher on her shoulder, trying her best to keep it dry, but the heavy weight kept pulling toward the rising seawater. When would this passage end? How long was it? Up and down the passage the echo of pouring water filled the tunnel.
Behind her, she could hear Miyuki struggling. The Japanese professor was smaller than her, the water up to Miyuki’s breasts. She half swam to keep up.
At last Karen saw her penlight illuminate another wall ahead, something different than this endless passage. “I think we’ve reached the end.”
She moved faster. The tunnel ended at a staircase, its steps climbing up. It reminded her of the staircase that had led them down here. She reached the first step, almost trip-ping over it since it was under the black water. Catching herself on the smooth wall, Karen stumbled up the steps and dragged herself out of the flooding passage.
She turned to help Miyuki, and both women climbed several steps until exhaustion dragged them down. They sat on the dry stairs, panting, shivering.
Karen pointed to the walls on either side. “Stone blocks,” she said. Here the walls and ceiling were no longer bare rock, but stacked and carefully fitted basalt slabs and blocks. “We’re above the lava tube.”
“So we won’t drown?” Miyuki looked pale, her ebony hair wet and clinging to her face.
“Not if we climb high enough. Get above sea level.”
Miyuki stared up the staircase. “But where are we?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say these steps lead into the heart of the second Dragon, the twin pyramid to the one we entered.” At least, she hoped so. But it made some sort of symmetrical sense. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the passage had been heading in the direction of the other pyramid. The lava tube must connect the two structures.
“Will there be a way out?”
Karen nodded. “I’m sure there is.” She left unspoken her own fear. What if they couldn’t find it?
“Then let’s go,” Miyuki said, shoving herself to her feet. She reached toward Karen. “I’ll carry the bag from here.”
Karen pushed the strap off, only too glad to shed the burden, and passed the bag to Miyuki, who almost dropped it.
“You weren’t kidding that it’s heavy,” she said, straining to heft it to her own shoulder.
“Nope. It’s that crystal artifact. It must weigh close to ten kilos.”
“But it was so small.”
Karen shrugged and stood up. “Just one more mystery about this place.” Sighing, she led the way up, praying that the final mystery would not escape her: the way out of this death trap.
The climb up the steep stairs was a cruel torture for their aching limbs. It felt like they were climbing a ladder. But they plodded onward, silent, too tired to talk. At least the exertion served to warm their cold bodies. But soon even the warmth became a burden. With each step the temperature seemed to rise in the narrow stairway. By the time they neared the top of the stairs, it was stifling. It seemed to Karen that her damp clothes were steaming.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and entered the next chamber. “Finally,” she moaned as she shuffled into the room. Miyuki followed her, wheezing. Karen raised her small flashlight.
The bare walls of the inner chamber offered no clue to an exit. Stacked stones and a slab roof surrounded them. Both women gazed around. There were no adornments, no writing.
Karen moved along the margins of the walls. “Turn off your light,” she ordered Miyuki. Karen flicked her penlight off, too.
Darkness plunged around them. The echo of splashing water from the passage below seemed to swell. With eyes wide, Karen looked for a chink in the solid walls and ceiling. Some evidence of an exit. By now she assumed the sun would be sliding toward the western horizon.
She mopped at her brow. It was so warm in there. Not a bit of air moved. With one hand on a wall, she edged around the room, searching for a telltale glow, some sign of an exit. But the darkness seemed complete.
“Are you finding anything?” Miyuki asked, hopeful.
Karen had opened her mouth to answer when her hand touched a stone warmer than the others. She paused, placing one palm on one stone and the other on its neighbor. There was a clear difference in temperature.
“I think I may have a clue here.” She fingered the edges of the warmer stone. It was difficult in the dark. The blocks had been fitted snugly. She discovered the edges, but as she stared, found no sign of sunlight creeping through. She frowned. There had to be a reason for the warmer stone.
Karen thumbed on her penlight, and Miyuki moved to her side, resting her bag on the stone floor. She rubbed at her shoulder. “What did you find?”
Karen shoved hard on the stone. It didn’t move. She backed up a step, head tilted, studying the stone block. It was featureless, about half a meter square. “This is warmer than the others, suggesting it must be more directly exposed to the sun.”
“Is it a way out?” Miyuki turned on her own flashlight.
“I hope so. I just don’t know how to open it.” Karen closed her eyes. Think, goddamn it!She pictured the second Dragon in her mind. It was identical to the first, except for the collapsed temple. This second pyramid’s summit had been bare. No clue.
“What are you thinking?” Miyuki asked.
Karen opened her eyes. “I’m not sure. In the other pyramid, the temple’s altar was the access point. The sculptured snake head was the key.”
“Yeah?”
“Think symmetry. Think larger. In the ruins of Chichen Itza on the Yucatan peninsula, the main pyramid casts a snake shadow during the equinoxes, a winding shadowy body that connects to a carved stone snake head at its base.”
“I don’t understand.”
Karen kept talking, intuiting that she was close to an answer. “The serpent’s head was the entry point. This connected to a long lava tube…perhaps representing a snake’s body.”
Miyuki nodded. “If you’re right, then we’re in the snake’s tail.”
“We were swallowed by a snake, traveled through its belly, and now must complete the digestive process.”
“In other words, we must find this snake’s butt.”
Karen laughed at the dead seriousness with which Miyuki had spoken these last words. “Yep.” Karen turned. The opening to the stairwell lay directly opposite her. She twisted around. The warm stone was in direct line with the opening. A straight line. She placed a hand on the stone. “This is the tip of the tail. The end of the snake.”
“Right. You said that. It’s the way out.”
“No! We aren’t paying attention to anatomy. A snake’s butt isn’t in the tip of its tail. It’s on its underside!” Karen pointed to the floor. “Its belly!”