The TMS stopped just short of the bed of the river, so that no additional silt was stirred up by the ROV’s propellers.
“Well, that’s something at least,” Billie said. “Can you turn the main LEDs on?”
“As you wish,” Edward replied and flicked the powerful lights on.
The place was completely lacking in environmental light, and reminded Billie of the time not so long ago when Sam Reilly had dragged her from her research in the Antarctic to help his friend, Tom Bower, explore a Mayan Pyramid nearly half a mile under the ocean.
Surreal in its isolation, the place where the ROV now explored was more distant than nearly every other place on earth. At first it appeared devoid of all marine life, but when Edward displayed the view of the downward camera, the riverbed seemed to be swarming with giant fresh water-crayfish. Although what they were eating to sustain themselves, she had no idea.
“Any sign of our temple yet?” she asked.
“Not yet. I’m just waiting for the sonar to come into view.” Edward grinned. “There she is!”
Zanzibe sat still and watched the computer screen. Although he said nothing, his face depicted bewilderment and awe at the first sight of his God’s true temple, a sight which no one had seen for nearly eleven thousand years.
The ROV began moving toward the temple. Its powerful electric motor propelled it at a speed upwards of 30 knots. The TMS was attached to the rear deck of the Andre Sephora via a full umbilical system, and then the TMS ran a separate tether to the ROV, making it much more versatile, while providing it with infinite power to exhaust.
The real dome cover of the temple of Poseidon came into view, and for a moment, Billie found herself holding her breath. Like the replica which the pygmies had constructed many years ago, the dome of this one was covered in orichalcum, and stood at the center of several deep indentations, each one progressively getting deeper.
Somewhere inside there would be an open doorway to the answers they needed. She forced herself to breathe out and consciously remember to breathe in. Looking around the room, she noticed that the temple had a similar effect on everyone else in the room.
Only Edward, who was so focused on the need of their mission, appeared immune to its glory. “Okay, Zanzibe, do you have any suggestions where our door is going to be?”
“I’ve never seen it, but if it’s anything like ours, then the door should be down there, at the end.”
The ROV moved quickly toward the end of the deepest moat, where the large stone opening stood without its door.
Edward looked at Zanzibe. “Thanks.”
There it moved through the first tunnel and into the challenge of strength. With the mechanisms of each of the challenges long since corroded or rotted away, Edward was able easily navigate through to the next room. The memory of trying to beat the challenges the pygmies had set out in their replica appeared fresh in his mind as he navigated the ROV through the temple’s entrance. Its eerie light scattered in the dark rooms, and Billie watched as Edward’s hands began to shake at the recent memory they stirred.
Propelling itself over the chasm that had long ago lost its bridge and then finally past the pendulum of sacrifice, the ROV quickly made its way toward the temple of Poseidon. Billie placed her hand on Edward’s shoulder. She didn’t say anything. Nor did she have to. They were both there. The sight instantly brought back the memory of him preparing to sacrifice his life for hers. In the end, the test had been merely to see if one person would willingly sacrifice themselves so the other person could live, and consequently, he had not been killed in the process. It was still one hell of an offering.
The ROV turned the last corner and entered the ancient temple dedicated to Poseidon — the God of the Sea.
And there it stopped.
“What the hell happened?” Billie asked.
Edward reversed and then plugged in a separate controller. “I was worried this might be the case.”
“What is it?”
“The dome’s dry. Don’t you remember in the pygmy replica, the temple of Poseidon remained dry?”
“Of course, why didn’t we think of that? I don’t suppose your ROV has a pair of wheels?”
Edward grinned. “No, but it’s got a killer set of tank tracks!”
A new sound could be heard coming from the ROV’s audio — it was the grating noise of its tank tracks turning. A moment later, the ROV punched through the water and entered the dry world of Poseidon’s temple.
It was larger than what the pygmies had recreated. Nearly twice as long and more than that high. As the ROV shined its exterior lights on the temple, the gold reflected everywhere.
“My God, there’s enough gold there to make St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican appear poor,” Edward said in awe.
Spotting the golden statue of Poseidon himself, still standing on top of his chariot and drawn by the massive six winged horse, Edward drove the ROV toward what they had come for. Edward then changed the view to one of the cameras mounted above and designed to look up.
The entire roof was covered in intricately carved ivory, depicting a battle of the Gods so great it would have terrified the strongest of mere mortals. Protected by eleven thousand years of isolation within the vault, the carvings appeared perfectly intact. They were curiously wrought with gold, silver and orichalcum. Next to the monstrous horse’s head, which nearly struck the ceiling, was a placard made of pure orichalcum.
Edward pressed the zoom button, and it came into focus.
“There it is gentlemen — and my dear Dr. Swan — the code to Atlantis.”
Chapter Seventy-One
After making several copies, Billie superimposed it on the second half of the code to Atlantis, completing the image.
“This is it! We have it. This is the missing link for the code to Atlantis!”
Edward embraced her. “I knew you were the right person for the job Dr. Swan! Thank you!”
Jason, the skipper, burst through the door. “We’ve got company.”
Billie and Edward moved to the window. Grabbing a pair of binoculars, Billie zoomed in on the boats moving toward them. There were two of them. Both inflatable military watercraft — most likely Zodiacs — and closing in on a quarter of a mile up river.
Aboard were several men carrying AK47s.
Edward swore. “It’s probably someone from any number of Congo’s rebel armies.” Placing his binoculars back on their holder, he said, “Jason, get us out of here. The Andre Sephora will outrun these petty war criminals.”
“I’m already on it,” Jason replied, kicking the sports craft’s engine into gear.
Edward looked at Mark. “Ready the team. Make certain they’re ready to repel boarders if they do reach us.”
“Understood,” Mark replied, leaving the room.
Billie felt reassured as the Rolls Royce water jets kicked into life and the Andre Sephora stood up on her bow wave. It would be impossible for the rebels to keep up with them once they reached their cruising speed.
“I told you we’d be all right,” Edward said.
Billie went to acknowledge him, but right then, the engines cut out and the Andre Sephora sunk its bow back into the river.
Chapter Seventy-Two
A helicopter flew toward them from the opposite direction. It was covered in military camouflage, but showed no sign of country of origin. Edward was reassured by the knowledge that none of the rebels in the area possessed such machinery.