“Meaning?”
“Those are empty folders, still yet to be filled with the writings of Atlantis,” Sam said while he studied the entry to the last circle. “It says that Atlantis is due to be activated again…”
“Activated again?” Tom looked surprised. “How do you know how to read ancient Atlantis texts?”
“Because this is the same language the Master Builders used.”
“Can you read what else it says?”
“Unless the proper code is input once more — and then it has some sort of date, but I can’t work it out. I can read the numbers but I have no idea about their calendar to make any sense of it.”
“Code to Atlantis? Input into what? Did these people have computers or something?”
“I have no idea,” Sam replied shaking his head. “Now I really wish Billie were here.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing when Atlantis becomes activated?” Tom suggested.
“Hang on a second. Over here.” Next to the strange symbol, Sam saw something that translated to: Activation Dates for Atlantis. There were five dates: 120040, 40200; 18007; 1000 and 23. “Look the periods between the dates are getting smaller each time.” Four of the dates had been scratched with stone, as though someone was writing them off a list of things to do. But one was still yet to happen.
“Yes, but what do they mean?”
“Beats me. I’m just translating.”
“18,000 — Could we be talking somewhere around 18,000 years ago?”
“No. I don’t even know if these are dates. Even if I were sure they were dates, it wouldn’t help us because it’s highly unlikely the Atlanteans used a measurement of time that exactly matches ours. And even then, if they did, we still don’t know that their math matches ours.”
“I thought math was supposed to be the one universal constant?”
“In principle it is. But there are a number of ways of doing things, and just because we liked the concept of base ten, doesn’t mean that other cultures did too. For example, the Mayans used base twelve, while numerous tribes around the world used base eight because they counted the spaces between their fingers to make the number eight, instead of the fingers.”
“So, you’re telling me we just have some random numbers that could mean anything, but most likely represent some time or event in the past?”
“That’s pretty much the gist of it.” Sam looked helpful and then said, “Or even the future.”
Tom stared at the ceiling again, without any recognition in any of it. “I just got an idea,” he said, handing Sam a piece of paper. “Write those numbers down for me. And the number at the end of the final circle. I’ll put them into your tablet while you decipher the rest. Maybe it can make the translation somehow, or at least make the reference to significant events in history?”
Sam handed him the numbers and Tom carefully typed them into the tablet and then ran a search for any similarities, order, or obvious codes. When that came up with nothing, he then ran the dates by significant archeological events.
Again, it came up with nothing.
It was a long shot, he knew. After all, the numbers were unlikely to relate to any dates based on current calendar dating systems. Then he realized how he could combine the tests to achieve a possible answer.
He assigned a random number against each date and then compared the difference between each of them with any known archeological events recorded. Big events, was what he was after, specifically. This time, the computer gave him a simple list.
He had no way of telling the time between each event on its own, but now he could compare them all and the computer could determine a probable dating of the numbers they had found.
Tom stared at the simple answers.
His face turned pale, and his hands sweaty.
“What is it?”
“The numbers 18007 appears to match up with the date Atlantis sunk and more importantly, the end of the last Ice Age. Prior to that, the Atlantean year 40200 relates to the approximate start of the Ice Age. And 120040, seems pretty close to when the dinosaurs disappeared. Each time it was activated, an Ice Age either started or ceased. Either way, it didn’t work out so crash hot for the planet’s inhabitants.”
“You mean, this thing’s wiping the slate clean? It’s removing all creatures who have not succeeded in evolving to the next level?”
“That’s what it looks like to me, and it gets worse.”
“Really. How much worse can it get?”
Tom sighed. “So I put that final date into the computer…”
“And?”
“It says we have three weeks until it’s activated again.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sam looked around the rest of the vast room in frustration.
“None of this helps us find Atlantis so we can rescue Billie.”
“Don’t forget working out how to stop Atlantis from activating and killing us all!” Tom reminded him.
“Yeah, there’s that too.”
“Okay, so let’s break this down. Billie tells me that this isn’t the first time you investigated the Master Builders. So, what’s your process?”
Sam began to list them. “Okay, I need to scan as many of these images onto the computer as we can and let the computer identify any references to the location of Atlantis. They only recently left, which means they found what they were looking for. So they either got really lucky, or it’s obvious.”
“Okay, I’ll get started.”
Within ten minutes Tom called out to him.
“Look at that!”
The ceiling was destroyed. Someone had intentionally blown up that section of the roof. Around a dozen circular ‘files” were lost.
“There must have been something important there, which whoever has Billie doesn’t want us to find out.”
“Now what the hell do we do?”
“We need to keep looking. Billie’s smarter than the two of us put together. She knows that this is the only lead we have on Atlantis, so she wouldn’t risk losing us by leaving without some way of letting us follow.”
It was more than two hours before they found the next clue.
Sam stared at the ceiling. His neck was starting to ache from the hours of looking upwards. Inside an area of blank circles, a new text had been written. Instead of being chiseled into the ceiling like the others, it was written with a cheap fluorescent permanent marker.
It was written in the language of the Master Builders.
Dear Sam,
You will find answers at these coordinates. There is another temple of Atlantis.
I will try to stall them as long as I can.
At the end of the note, she had left a set of GPS coordinates.
“Okay, it’s time to go,” Sam said.
“Where?”
Sam put the coordinates into his computer and replied, “Siberia.”
“What’s in Siberia?”
“According to Billie, Atlantis.”
“It’s in Siberia. How did Billie work that out from the notes we found in the sunken pyramid in the Gulf of Mexico?”
“How the hell should I know? But she’s left the GPS coordinates, so we better head off so we can beat them to it.”
Sam turned to head for the entrance of the cavern, but something stopped him. He looked at the pile of orichalcum. A fortune left in the ancient library. It would be worthless in a few weeks if he couldn’t solve the puzzle.
Below them, the ground shook with the vibrations of a sound coming from outside.
“Can you hear that?” Sam asked.
“Sounds like the roar of thunder.”
Sam looked to the edge of the opening, where the Sherpas had started to scatter.
“Do you think it’s an avalanche?” Tom suggested.
Sam listened more intensely to the sound for a moment. “That’s crazy. It doesn’t sound anything like an avalanche. Those are clearly helicopter rotors. Given our high altitude, I’d say they come from a pair of B3 Eurocopters.”