Chapter 7 -10

CHAPTER 7

The mineshaft was at ten thousand feet when the crew hit water. All work was halted.”  Matt Garrett, the chief in charge of drilling sat in the FOU across from Spencer explaining the situation. 

Spencer got up and ran his hands through his hair. He’d been only half listening, letting his mind replay his time with Roula. “So, we finally hit that underground river, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling you.” Matt watched him through squinting eyes. “We have water everywhere. I’ve halted all excavation until we resolve this.  Any suggestions?”

He sat at the computer station and turned on the screen. “According to our sonar mappings and the latest electromagnetic readings.” He tapped in a few codes and the screen shifted to a full view of the site. “This underground river makes a sharp right turn approximately three hundred feet down stream. See it here?” he said pointing at a snakelike image on the screen. “We will need to re-route the underground channel diagonally and block the flow at our mine shaft location.”

“Sounds good. I’ll have the crew start drilling a channel to intercept the river down stream.”

“Be careful, underground rivers have very high turbulence.  The constriction

of the rocks could create high pressure surges that can be pretty damned dangerous.”

“Don’t worry boss, we’ll take all the right precautions.”

The next morning Spencer watched his crew make a horizontal bore that was to re-route the raging river away from the mine area so that excavation could resume to lower levels. By noon the rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten all day. He gave Matt a few instructions and then walked back to the FOU.

“Steve,” Spencer said to the monitor.  “We have a serious delay caused by the underground river I told you about. I checked it out myself. The current is raging in some spots. It could be dangerous for the crew.”

“Shit,” Steve hung his head for a moment. He looked up, worry lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, you look worried. What’s up?”

Steve stared through the screen for a moment and then seemed to make up his mind. “There are some powerful people watching this project. They’re getting antsy.” He shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to reporting a delay to the higher ups.”

“I told you it might happen—”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” He smiled, but even through the screen his face appeared drawn and anemic.

“I have a plan that should have us back on track in a few weeks. The only possible delay is if we encounter hard material while drilling.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We are going to re-route the river.”

Steve rubbed his smooth cheek. “What are we talking about for the size of the bypass?”

“To make this work, based on hydraulics calculations, we need a tunnel with a cross sectional area of two-hundred twenty-five square feet, that makes about a fifteen by fifteen foot opening.”

“Must be quite a river.”

“It is.  I mapped the river down stream and it makes a sharp right turn at about three hundred feet.  With luck we could have this river re-routed in a week.”

“Let’s hope we’re lucky,” Steve said. 

“I’ll keep you up to date on our progress. We could encounter problems, so let’s stay in close communication.”

“Let’s hook up the satellite feed so we can monitor your actions . . . uh . . . progress full time.”

Steve provided the satellite system so Spencer could mount cameras underground and the actual live work would be beamed directly to CIA headquarters. So far, Spencer had only used the set up a few times to show Washington and Calpetro the site. It was too soon for full time live hook up. It was supposed to be reserved for later when they closed in on the objective. Steve’s slip about monitoring his actions had his nerves on edge. They didn’t trust him. What would it hurt to cooperate at this point? “No problem. I’ll set up the live feed so you guys can keep abreast of the situation as it unfolds.” He leaned forward and offered Steve what he hoped was his most earnest look. “Thanks, Steve, I can use all the help I can get on this one.”

Steve flicked off the monitor and rolled his chair backwards toward his workstation. He lifted a handful of pages from the printer. It was Spencer’s schematic of the tunnel. The new section of mine was to begin above the river and then slant down in front of it.  The final connection would have to be the last operation after they reached the other end.  Spencer had worked out a plan where a series of vertical holes would be drilled from above the slanted tunnel toward the raging river.  The diversion of the water  to the new tunnel would be painfully slow.  The final phase would require blocking the river’s present course so that the drilling of the main shaft could resume while the water rushed down the new path. 

Steve stayed glued to his monitor while everyone around him worked on special contingencies should the tunnel give way to rushing water.  At a pace that felt like that of a slug, the men and machinery created a new tunnel.

Extra bright lights were used for the cameras. For hours each day he stared at the screen until his eyes burned so much that an occasional hot tear ran down his face. If anyone could accomplish this task, Spencer was the one to do it. He’d come to trust Spencer over the months they had worked together. The man was young, but he was damn talented and key to the success of the operation. Tom Detton was right to leave Calpetro’s staff in charge of the field details and Steve had, on occasion, told Spencer so.  There would be time enough for him to take over the operation and remove all civilians, Spencer included. It wouldn’t be long now until the most important find in centuries was in his hands.

            Spencer had only been asleep for three hours when his cell phone rang. He sat up with a start and reached toward the incessant noise on his nightstand only to knock the telephone to the floor. “What now?” he grumbled. He  switched on the light and grabbled the telephone from the floor. “Hello?”

“Mr. Spencer, is that you?”

“Matt?” Yes, you woke me up.” That should have been obvious. “What’s going on?”

“Please come down right away.  There’s something we need to show you.”

Spencer looked at his clock on the dresser. It was 3:25 am. “This can’t wait ‘til morning?”

“No sir, I think you should come now.”

“I’ll be right there.” He flipped the phone shut, not even bothering to say goodbye.  It had taken him until midnight to update his report to the CIA on his plans for the river divergence. With squinting eyes, he walked to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.  He slipped on a pair of khaki shorts and pulled a white t-shirt over his head. When he arrived at the tunnel, Matt was waiting for him at the entrance.

“This had better be important,” he said. “ I just went to sleep. Did we hit water?”

“Come with me,” Matt turned and headed into the mine.  You need to see this . . . or better yet, hear it.”

At the end of the tunnel the lights for the cameras were blinding. Spencer stopped and waited for his eyes to adjust. The ground rumbled beneath his feet and a muddled roar filled his ears.

“It’s the river.” Spencer shouted.

“It sure is!”

“Then all we have to do is drill down to the water.”

Matt’s face fell into a deep frown. “If we open this up, won’t the water fill the tunnel and trap all of us in it?”  Matt was visibly shaken.

“No.  The water is flowing below and away from us.  Opening up the tunnel by drilling a large cavity on the floor will only expose the water.  We should be okay, all we’ll see is rushing water going by.”

Matt tucked his thumbs into his belt loop and gazed around the tunnel. “Are you sure?”

Matt’s concern was justified. It was only right for him to fear for his crew. Several of the men had already complained of the potential danger. Spencer clapped Matt on the back. “I understand why you’re worried,” he said. “Down here, nothing is a hundred percent certain. It’s a dangerous mission.  I’ll talk with Steve before we proceed. Once he’s aware of the situation we’ll get moving.” Spencer turned to the camera and asked for Steve Sullivan.  The small monitor that was propped on the side of the scaffolds lit up. There was some commotion on the screen, as if people were scuffling about, and then an agent, who looked about seventeen, came into view.

“Steve’s out for a few hours,” the young man said in a sharp tone. 

“Fine, ask him to call me when he gets back.” Spencer walked away before the rude agent could respond. He didn’t have time for bad-mannered boys. Steve’s absence was actually a relief. It would give him a little time to think. “Let’s take a forty-five minute break.  Get some fresh air everyone.  I’ll see you back here at 5:30 sharp.”

The crew seemed happy for the break from the tension. The men could be heard muttering their concerns as they made their way out of the tunnel.  Spencer turned to Matt, whose face had turned ashen. “Jesus, it’s so much louder when no one else is down here. Sounds like a torrent.”

  “It probably is,” Spencer said.

“I have to admit, this project is starting to get to me,” Matt turned his worried eyes on Spencer. “I’m not a brave guy when it comes to taking chances like this.”

“No one is going to take any chances, Matt.  We mapped this underground river in advance.  We knew it was here and are prepared to handle the situation scientifically and safely.” Spencer spoke in the most reassuring voice he could muster. “The trick is to get the water to go where we want it to go instead of where it wants to go.”

“Okay, so how do we do it?”

“I think we should drill a small exploratory hole to the water level, send a probe down with a camera, and take a peak at the river from that view.” I’ll need to ask Steve for a special camera.” He turned his back on the dark eye of the camera. “I’m sure he can get it,” he added dryly.

Matt nodded. “Let’s take some precautions, though. I think we should have a tap ready to screw the opening shut should water suddenly rush up the probe opening.”

“Great idea. We’ll install a small vent hole in the middle to determine the water pressure.

“Okay.” Matt shivered despite the heat. “Let’s get out of here for now.” 

By the time the pair reached the surface, Matt’s face had returned to its normal ruddy shade and the worry lines from his brow had vanished. Spencer understood. He also felt relieved whenever he reached the surface. 

The morning light was glowing over the eastern horizon and Spencer stopped and stared. The Egyptian desert may be one of the harshest places on earth, but it was also one of the most breathtaking.

Matt took a few steps toward his jeep and then stopped and turned back to Spencer. “I really need some time off . . . I know this isn’t a good time but—” 

“No, no, you’re right. You deserve a little time away from this place.  I need to go over everything with Steve anyway, and that special camera will take a while to get here. Would two days do it?”

Matt grinned. “Thanks, Spencer. See you in a couple of days. Page me if you need me sooner.”

“You got it.”

Spencer walked back to the FOU. He dropped into the ergonomic chair and flipped on the monitor. The top of Steve’s blonde head filled the big screen.

“Hi, Steve,” Spencer said.

Steve looked up, his face as cheerful as ever. He was wearing a polo shirt and looked well rested and relaxed. At least someone was getting a little shut-eye.

“We’re at water level,” Spencer said. His voice sounded tired and gravelly even to him. Who cared? He was too tired to hide his exhaustion.

 “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I need a camera to get a look at the river.”

Steve grinned. “I have the perfect device. The camera is mounted on a small flexible wire with a built in high intensity light. The entire device is less than the circumference of your thumb.  The camera has the capability of remote operation so you can pivot its position up to three hundred sixty degrees.”

“When can I have it?”  Spencer asked, his voice now anxious.

“I’ll ship it immediately.  It should be in your hands by six tomorrow your time.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Hey Spencer, make sure that we are linked at all times.  I want to see this myself.”

“Of course.” He flipped the monitor’s off switch and the screen went dark. “Asshole,” he muttered. 

The constant surveillance of the CIA was beginning to get under his skin. He had heard too many CIA horror stories, enough that their involvement kept his stomach in knots. Antonio was even more distrustful of the CIA.  He had warned Spencer that they couldn’t be trusted. Antonio had said that the CIA was just a form of legitimate Mafia. “Those idiots have absolute power over secret operations,” Antonio had said. “They decide what information is withheld from the public and private sectors. All of this power is justified in the interest of “ national security.” Antonio had spat out the last sentence. “With those two words, all actions taken by the CIA are justifiable, including murder.”

Of course the CIA would never call it murder. To them it would simply be the elimination of a problem, a nuisance. Damn, this job had turned him into one distrustful individual.  He rocked back and folded his hands across his chest. He thought about all the people involved in the project. Who could he trust? Certainly not Tom Detton or Steve Sullivan. Confiding anything to the Department of Antiquity would be certain disaster. And what about the other players? Matt Garrett and Jeff Miller had proven indispensable to the project and had become welcome friends. But how would they react if an alien ship were ensconced within the cave? Or what if it’s something more dangerous and sinister? What about Antonio Casenza, or even McPearson for that matter? How will they respond to whatever is in that cave? Would greed or the desire for self-importance cloud their judgment?

And what of Roula?

He sighed as an image of her beautiful face and smoky eyes filled his mind.  Would his feelings for her get in the way if there was, in fact, a threat to national security? 

The truth was, he could trust only himself.  He had already told Paul Seiber too much, but he could control that. In the future, he would share only the minimum information required.  He would formulate an alternate plan, strictly for his protection. He turned on the computer and downloaded his e-mail. The cryptic message from Paul was there—his secret apartment was ready. Paul had taken care of all the details and everything was in place as planned.  This gave Spencer great comfort. If things got sticky, he would have a secret place where he could escape. He would expand his plan to formulate a full disappearance if necessary. 

A day and half later they were ready to deal with the river.

“Matt, I hope you relaxed the last couple of days because we’re going to get a good look at that rushing water today.”

“I’m ready.  Did you get the camera?”

“Came in two hours ago.  Let’s go check it out.”

A crewmember walked over from the field shop carrying a steel pipe with a threaded cap. Spencer examined the pipe and fittings. “Looks like exactly what I specified,” he said to the man with a smile.

A crew of a half dozen men followed Spencer and Matt into the tunnel. “Let’s drill right there,” Spencer said, pointing to an X he had marked in the soft rock base. They could have drilled just about anywhere. Marking the X had been his way of creating an air of confidence—an emotion he didn’t really feel.

The drill advanced slowly as the threaded pipe plunged farther and farther in.  Suddenly, water rushed out from the vent hole.

 Spencer stood to the side with Matt who held the camera cradled in his arm like a baby. A man moved closer to get a look. “Let’s stay clear of the drilling machine,” Spencer said. 

With a loud swoosh water spouted from the vent hole and hit the top of the gigantic tunnel. “Stop!” Spencer yelled.

“I told you I didn’t like this idea, Spencer,” Matt yelped. “Do you think the pipe will hold?”

Spencer ignored him.

“Pull back three inches at a time.” Spencer yelled to the drill operator while watching the vent hole at the top of the pipe. “Three more inches, very slowly now.”

“Spencer, what are you doing?  If you pull the pipe out we’ll be deluged.”  Matt edged away, his face white with fear. “You two,” he said to two men who were standing back watching. “Get out of here.”

 “No one needs to go anywhere,” Spencer said. “The drilling machine advanced a little too far and hit water, that’s all.  If we back out the pipe slowly and stop at the roof of the river, the water should stop.”

The pair looked at each other with wide eyes but didn’t move.

 “Two more inches.” The waterspout sputtered and dropped a few feet. “There, see? It’s stopping.”

The men backed the drill out a few more inches and the spout diminished to a gurgling bubble.

“How’d you know that would work?” Matt asked.

Spencer shrugged. “We didn’t know when the machine penetrated the rock because the thread advances evenly even after the bottom is out. Backing out let the water  flow freely again.” He pointed to the camera in Matt’s hands. “That probe camera will tell us how much room we have.”

“Congratulations, Spencer,” Steve’s voice echoed through the tunnel. “It looks like you’ll be able to divert this water without a problem. Good job.”

Spencer turned and looked at the small monitor propped in the tunnel. He’d almost forgotten that Big Brother was watching. “Let’s see,” he said, an edge of irritation in his voice.

Spencer installed the small camera down the center of the pipe. As it reached bottom, he adjusted the remote control until it was turned ninety degrees. A crisp picture of rushing water appeared on the screen. Spencer turned the camera toward the ceiling.

“Steve, can you see that?”

“Yes, clearly. It looks like you have room to open your tunnel right above this cavity without any danger of water flooding the tunnel.”

“I agree. Quite a gadget, this camera.” Spencer counted the graduated markings on the pipe. “I read about nine inches of space. What do you figure the horizontal distance to be, Steve?”

“The camera has built in sonar. Just rotate it to the horizontal position and activate the SR button. It should give you a reading in feet on the small instrument screen.”

Spencer manipulated the camera according to Steve’s instructions. “Yep,” he said with a smile. “We’re in business.” He glanced up at Matt who was shaking his head and smiling, a look of relief apparent on his face. Matt seemed incapable of hiding his emotions. He should never become a poker player.  “I want a hole here that’s sixteen feet in diameter.” He turned to the crewmen, “And don’t take your eyes off that water. It can still be unpredictable. I don’t want anyone hurt.”

“Great job, Spencer,” Steve said.

Spencer waved in the general direction of the monitor without looking up. “Matt, let’s go work on the other end.” He lowered his voice. “That’s a bit trickier.”

Spencer had worked out the design weeks earlier.  They would drill down from the slanted tunnel side to the water below and then build a concrete wall in front of the opening, sealing the new tunnel to the ceiling.  The concrete wall would prevent the water from flowing into the tunnel area just above the underground river near the mineshaft. Spencer had ordered twelve steel plates. When these were all in place, the last step would be to create concrete forms and slide them in pre-drilled slots down to the bottom of the river.  Each plate was massive, and when placed in the slot, would restrict the flow of water downstream and re-direct the water in the man-made tunnel. 

One by one, all twelve plates were placed in position. Water rushed into the sealed opening behind the concrete barrier, into the newly built tunnel, and down the sixteen-foot diameter opening at the other end.  All that was left now was to pour a new concrete wall.  Matt’s face once again reflected relief when the concrete had set and the water flow stopped completely.  They had done it.  Spencer celebrated the occasion by buying the entire crew a round of beer.  Now the real work could continue.  It had taken them exactly nine days to divert the underground river. 

Back in the FOU the light on his e-mail icon blinked in the darkness. A message from Antonio was waiting. Antonio Casenza warned Spencer of an inspection from the Department of Antiquity. They had heard the news about the underground river and wanted all work stopped until their field team assessed the situation.  Spencer had briefly met some of the inspectors during the opening ceremonies.  Surprisingly, the government of Egypt had kept out of the picture since then.  Spencer had heard stories of projects being held up for months, but in this case it hadn’t happened.  At least, not yet.  Would this be the beginning?  He picked up the phone and dialed Antonio’s private line. “I just read your e-mail Antonio.  I’ve already finished the water diversion, now what?”

“You’re finished already? They’ve sure got you hopping in that mine hole!”

“Tell me about it.” Spencer said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“I just received word of the inspection. They usually give me more warning.”

“How do I handle it?”

“Just show them the work and tell them as little as possible, just that the diversion was minimal, created no disruption to the ecological balance, and nothing was found that would pertain to the realm of antiquity.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. What else could you do?  You worked efficiently and the problem was resolved without consequence. That’s the truth and it’s all you need to tell them.”

Early the next morning Spencer stood at the tunnel entrance surrounded by four Egyptian inspectors from the Department of Antiquity. Three of the men seemed nervous. Their black eyes darted about the site, taking in the men and equipment. They looked like hungry pigeons waiting for breadcrumbs. The fourth man was an altogether different sort. He was a barrel-chested man with a thick mustache and course black hair. Fifty pounds lighter and he’d have been a dead ringer for Omar Sharif. His hands were large and his fingers were puffed up like sausages. He held an ornate cane in his right hand, which he seemed to use more as a prop than for support.

“My name is Mohammad Aiel Abdul,” the man said. “I am the chief inspector for the Department of Antiquity.”

The Egyptian’s words came out in short puffs. He either had trouble pronouncing the English words or he was too fat to breathe properly, Spencer couldn’t tell which.

“We received notice from Mr. Casenza that an underground river has flooded your mine shaft,” Abdul said. “As you may know, we are here for an inspection. You must cease all work until further notice from us.”

He may call himself the chief inspector for the Department of Antiquity, but Spencer knew better. The man’s real job was to spy on unauthorized excavation sites.  His task was to recover precious artifacts from these sites and turn them over to the department.  This trick gave the Egyptian museums an abundance of artifacts at no cost, and provided additional revenue from the heavy fines imposed on the culprits.

“Mr. Abdul, I’m afraid Mr. Casenza was in error.  The river never flooded the mine.  It simply prevented us from proceeding with the work.  It was a minor problem and it has already been resolved.  I’ll be glad to show you.” 

Why had Antonio told the Egyptians about the river?  He would need to have a talk with Antonio later.

The elevator gave a slight jolt as it reached the ten thousand foot level. The three inspectors, who had been silent so far, clung to the bars as if they were plummeting to the ground. Spencer’s lips twitched into a smile. He stopped the elevator and signaled the group to exit. The three men took in their surroundings and then looked up, their mouths agape, and their hardhats sliding back on their heads. He really couldn’t blame the young inspectors for their nervousness. They had surely never been this far underground before.  

Spencer escorted the group along the mammoth tunnel above the river to the newly built concrete barriers. Abdul’s pace was slow and when he walked his body swung from side to side. He favored his left side. He was probably only fifty, but he acted much older. 

“Now, here below our feet, at approximately one and a half meters, rushes an underground river,” Spencer said, sounding like a tour guide. “Its path intersected our mine shaft and so it became necessary for us to divert the water around our shaft and reconnect the river downstream. This is exactly what has been done.”

“Do you mean to tell me Mr. Spencer, that you have diverted water without our permission?”

“Well, yes.  I wasn’t aware that dealing with this type of common problem during deep underground excavations required your approval. We found no sign of ancient ruins, and I assure you no artifact was affected by this water redirection. We simply dug a new tunnel diagonal to the river and intersected the water downstream.  We then sealed off this tunnel here,” he pointed to the concrete wall, “so that when the water rushed in, it flowed down the tunnel and into the existing river at the other end.  We then blocked the river right here below your feet and the flow was diverted.”

“Mr. Spencer,” Abdul sputtered. “I’m sure you are a very clever man, but our department has not been given the opportunity to provide input.  The government of Egypt needs to make a determination regarding this water.  As you know, water is very scarce in the Sahara, this new source might be important to the welfare of Egypt.  We will need samples to analyze.”

Spencer gave a surreptitious glance in the direction of the CIA cameras. The camera lights had been shut off and the cameras themselves were now hidden by dark shadows. Steve had ordered that Spencer take every precaution to make sure the inspectors knew nothing of the CIA’s involvement. Even though Steve couldn’t see what was happening, he was surely listening.

“Of course, we will provide whatever you need. I can save you some time, though.  Calpetro did an extensive analysis last week. This water is highly toxic, non-potable, and very hot—about ninety-three degrees.  I can have the results for you when we get back in my office.”  Spencer used his most polite voice. He wanted to prevent any further delays and this was certainly an unnecessary one.

“Mr. Spencer, we will take your results and check them against our own. Now, please send in a crew to extract five gallons of water.”

Spencer radioed Matt and asked him to drill a small hole into the new concrete wall to siphon out five gallons. Ten minutes later the inspectors left carrying jugs filled with the noxious water.  Mohamed Aiel Abdul returned to the site two days later. He paced furiously back and forth in Spencer’s office, his cane prodding at various objects as if to let something out from underneath.

“Mr. Spencer, your weekly reports to our department have been very lacking.  I received the one pertaining to the underground river just yesterday.” Mohamed’s voice was rising with every word. “May I remind you that as part of our contractual agreement you are to provide us with complete and detailed reports on a weekly basis,”  he shouted. “If not for Mr. Casenza’s efforts, this project would be shut down indefinitely.”

“Mr. Abdul, need I remind you what is at stake here for your country?” He moved close to Abdul and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We are doing our best to keep this project’s true objective a secret.  Egypt will realize a tremendous profit in gold if we succeed.”

Abdul grunted.

“ In the meantime, I promise you I will be more diligent in the future with my reports.”

Abdul signaled for his assistant to hand him the water report. “Mr. Spencer, we concur with your findings. The water is toxic.  Our department, however, is very concerned with this project and has placed it under my direct supervision.  I can tell you that periodic inspections will take place in the future.”

“That will be just fine, Mr. Abdul. Now do we have your permission to proceed with the mine shaft?”

Abdul handed a signed release to Spencer and left.  There was no doubt that from now on the Department of Antiquity would be watching with greater intensity. The real reason for all this digging was still hidden at the bottom of the mine. Who knew what he’d find there? Now he had to worry about the CIA and Abdul. The trick would be to stay one step ahead of these treacherous people.

 “Antonio, I could kill you!” Spencer yelled into the receiver.

“Oh, so you met Mr. Abdul.  I did you a big favor Spencer, believe me.  I know that character well and if he had found out about the water from an outside source, you would be drinking at the local hang out for months.”

“Why?”

“Well, let’s just say that the prick would shut the project down cold.”

“He says he’s going to inspect us regularly now. Should I worry?”

“Not at this point. Abdul’s an ornery old bastard, but he’s manageable.”

“I guess you don’t like him much?’

“Let’s say I detest him, but I can get around him. He’s like a pesky insect that I have learned to live with.”

“Thanks for the advice.  I called to yell at you and I end up thanking you. I keep forgetting that nothing gets by a Casenza.”

Spencer contacted Steve and filled him in on the details of Abdul’s inspection. As expected, Steve had heard almost everything. Steve promised to do a little background check on the chief inspector. “Everybody’s got a little dirty laundry lying around,” Steve said. “And Abdul strikes me as the kind of guy who’s got dirtier laundry than most.”

  Spencer disconnected with Steve and called into his voicemail. Roula had left two messages and she sounded anxious. Now that the digging was back on course, he’d be able to dedicate more time to his favorite person.  He dialed her number.

“Ralph,” Roula sighed, her voice rich with concern.  “I heard about the underground river. I was worried.” 

“Oh? Don’t worry. It’s all over. We diverted the water and things are back to normal . . . How did you hear about it?”

“I, uh . . . oh, I overheard one of the worker mentioning it to his friend; he didn’t know I was nearby and heard him.”
            “Really?”

 I’ve missed you, Ralph.” Her voice had turned husky. “I have some free time tomorrow, want me to come over?”

“I’d love that.  I’ve missed you, too.  Why don’t you come by around nine in the morning and I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You’ve got a date,” she said. “See you then.”

Roula arrived the next morning looking even lovelier than he remembered. How she managed to look so cool and comfortable in 102-degree heat was beyond him. They sat huddled at the small table in the FOU eating pancakes and eggs. “You’re a good cook,” she said. “These pancakes are fantastic.”

“I can cook a pretty mean breakfast, but that’s about it,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Didn’t you wonder why I didn’t invite you for dinner?”

“No,” she nudged him fondly, “I thought you were just anxious to see me.”

They nibbled on the pancakes and eggs and Roula told him all about her  latest hieroglyphic translation project. “It’s one of the most challenging I’ve ever encountered,” she said.

He took her slender hand in his. “Sounds fascinating,” he said, and he meant it. Besides her physical beauty, Roula’s intelligence and her passion for her work were what had drawn him to her in the first place.

She dropped her fork onto her plate. “Full,” she said, patting her flat stomach. “So now that the danger’s past, can I see the underground river?”

“Well, you could, except that I had it sealed off.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh,” she said.

“But if you like, I can show you the tunnel that we dug to get above the water.”

Her eyes lit up. “Cool. I’ve never been so deep in the earth. There’s something . . . exhilarating . . . about it.”

He laughed. “Not for me. I’ve been down there nearly every day for months now. It’s not really my idea of fun.”

Her bottom lip poked out forming the most enchanting pout he’d ever seen.

“But I suppose it is cooler down there,” he said, his throat suddenly tight.

She ran her tongue along her lips seductively. “Cool is good.”

“Yeah,” he said, “very good.”

CHAPTER 8

The crew had been working around the clock and all the heavy equipment was already well below the tunnel.  Roula and Spencer found it deserted and very dark.  The only light was coming from the main shaft some thirty feet behind them. “We pump air down the auxiliary shaft and the convection system cools the entire shaft,” he said.  

“That’s interesting.” She took his hand and drew him toward her.

Her eyes were like black opals bathed in moonlight. The warmth of her body sent a ripple of heat through his body. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the concrete barrier. “Put your ear against the cement,” he said.

“Oh my god, I hear it . . . I can hear the water rushing by. It sounds like the roar of the ocean in a shell. This is so impressive. I’m proud to know you.  You’re not only a geologist and an Archeologist, but also an engineer.”

“I had a lot of help.”

She turned to face him and pulled his arms around her. She closed her eyes, leaned in, and pressed a tender kiss against his lips. The warmth of her touch combined with the cool darkness of the tunnel enflamed him. He pulled her tighter and kissed her deeply. She seemed to melt into his arms and for a moment nothing in the world existed but the two of them. They were wrapped in their own little cocoon eleven thousand feet below ground.  He had dreamed of kissing her, but he hadn’t expected her passion to flair here, now, in a cold, dark tunnel. 

They rode back to the surface without speaking a single word, as if by mutual understanding their time together in the tunnel had been sacred.

Time at the dig passed too slowly when Roula wasn’t around.  He’d spend every minute with her if he could, but his demanding schedule allowed for only short dates a few times a week. Every time he saw her, his heart skipped a beat. Whenever they had to part, his chest constricted. Life before Roula seemed dim and empty. 

The dig was progressing quickly, even with the daily crises and problems to resolve. With a twenty-four crew there were no slowdowns. The crew was now at nearly seventeen thousand feet and had reached a thick layer of old lava rock.  Sonar revealed a huge cavity directly below them.  The crew was jubilant. The bottom was near.  Mr. Abdul kept his promise and his inspectors had become regular visitors. They would come at least once a week, spending most of their time above ground making sure that the soil excavated from the shaft was properly disposed of.  To them the dirt coming out was more important than examining what was at the bottom of the mine, or so they said. Considering their reaction to being so far underground, a more likely explanation was that they didn’t want to take their chances on a second trip into the darkness of the inner earth. Besides, what could possibly be disturbed seventeen thousand feet below the surface?

The CIA had kept a close watch on Spencer’s progress and insisted on daily monitoring of the excavation via satellite.  Their constant presence in the mine was an annoyance he’d rather be without. For now, though, he had to be as cooperative as possible. Attention to the proper arrangement of the cameras had become a hassle that he and the crew resented. Too often a crewmember would accidentally trip the wires and the connection would be lost, leaving the agents in Washington in the dark. Despite the inconvenience, Spencer enjoyed those moments.  It felt good to occasionally have a little power over the watchful eye of the CIA. There were enough hints of their true intentions that he had come to mistrust their every move.  He had formulated an alternate plan to deal with a hostile CIA once he reached the bottom of the mine. Whatever was down there needed protecting. Would he share the find with Roula? He wanted to, but every time he’d start to tell her about the unusual substance they’d found, something stopped him. Roula still had an air of mystery about her and he couldn’t quite shake the doubts he had about her. It was true; Roula had become his passion. She was a wonderful diversion from the daily stresses of the mammoth project that had taken over his life.  She often insisted on meeting him while he was working at the site, which made concentrating on his work a real challenge.  She was surprisingly fascinated by the complexity of the project—always asking questions and wanting to know the details of various operations. 

“Spencer do you have a minute?” Matt Garrett stood in the doorway of the FOU, a ball cap clenched in his rough hands.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I’m not sure how to tell you this . . .” Matt gestured to the chair across from Spencer.

“Sure, sit down.”

Matt edged his way into the seat and looked around the interior of the FOU. “This thing is so cool,” he said.

Matt had been inside the FOU at least a hundred times. He was stalling.

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on,” Spencer said.

 “Uh, okay. Well, you see . . .”

Spencer leaned forward and perched his elbows on his knees. “Go on.”

“Yesterday, while you were, you know, meeting with the Egyptian inspectors at the cement site, I saw Roula at the bottom of the shaft on one of the scaffolds.”

“Oh, I know, she’s fascinated with this site.”

“Well, sir, there’s more.  I saw her messing with the up-link cable.  She didn’t know I was watching.”

“What are you talking about?” Spencer asked, his defenses up.

“Look, you’re the boss, and I know you really care about this woman. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation . . . I just think it might be better for everyone if she didn’t have access to the shaft without an escort.  I mean, not only are we working on a classified project, but it could be dangerous for her.” 

Matt’s attempt at avoiding offending Spencer only succeeded in getting his hackles up. He broke into a sweat, his neck burned, and his mouth had gone dry. He brushed aside his own doubts about Roula. “I’m sure she wasn’t doing anything inappropriate.”

 “Oh, I’m sure,” Matt agreed. “It was just a small incident that I thought you’d want to address before something . . . unpleasant happened.”

“I’ll talk to her.  Thanks for coming to me.

Matt stood, placed the rumpled ball cap on his head, and jumped out of the FOU, ignoring the steps.  “See ya later.”

“Uh, Matt? Wait a second,” Spencer said.

Matt poked his head back in the doorway.

“What was Roula doing with the up-link cable?”

“I looked at the connections after she left. Couldn’t see anything wrong with it. I have no idea.”

Spencer smiled and nodded. “I’ll talk to her. Thanks again.”

“Sure thing.”

Spencer’s stomach tightened into a knot.  What had Roula been up to? What was this obsession she had with the project? She was a hieroglyphics expert. Why would an oil dig, even one this extensive, hold any fascination for her? He picked up his cell phone and dialed her number.

“Hi there. I have some free time today. Can I take you to lunch?” Spencer asked, trying to be nonchalant.

“Lunch would be great. I came by yesterday, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, yeah, well I was on a supply run for part of the day. Pick you up at twelve.”

He took her to their favorite Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Cairo. He held out her chair for her and she slid into the seat gracefully. She looked lovely in a ruffled blue tank top that showed off the mounds of her full breasts. Damn, why’d the woman have to be such a mystery?

“So I finished deciphering the—”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you came by the site yesterday, Roula?” 

She sat back in her chair and raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? I just told you on the phone—”

“I know, it’s just that I like being with you and would have enjoyed seeing you yesterday.”

She leaned forward and placed her chin in her hand. “So what’s the problem? You barely said a word on the drive here, and now you’re acting as if I’ve done something wrong. I don’t get it.” 

“There’s nothing to get,” he said with a shrug. “I just wanted to see you.”

Roula sat back and crossed her arms, her brown eyes boring into his. A confrontation with Roula was the last thing he wanted, but he had to find out what she had been doing in the mine.  “Matt saw you at the bottom of the shaft . . . he was concerned for your safety, that’s all.”

“If he saw me alone and was so concerned, why didn’t he say something?”

“He said that he tried to catch up with you, but you had already headed back up the elevator.”

“I see.”

The waiter arrived to take their order. “We haven’t had time to look at the menu yet,” Roula said, never taking her eyes off Spencer. The waiter nodded politely and walked away.

“I was surprised to see a TV monitor at the bottom of the mine,” Roula said. What’s it for?”

“Oh, nothing really.”  Spencer ran his fingers through his hair and gazed around the restaurant. When he looked back at Roula her eyes were wide and her jaw was slack. How had she so deftly turned the tables on him? “Calpetro owns a satellite link in this region so headquarters can monitor our progress.  They are actually very helpful when we encounter drilling or excavation problems.  They just jump right in and help resolve the situation.” When had he become such a smooth liar?

Roula said nothing, but her gaze was relentless, although those lovely liquid brown irises had softened a little.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “Since my bosses can see what goes on at the bottom of the mine, let me escort you next time. It could mean my job.”

She smiled and reached her hands across the table. “Of course.  I just went down looking for you.  The TV was a surprise that made me stop and look.”

“I guess I forgot to mention it to you.  It’s really no big deal.” He looked down at his menu. “So what do you think you’re going to order?” He wanted off the subject and quick.

At the office Steve had left him an urgent e-mail.  Spencer punched in his password and the screen came alive.

“Hi Steve.  Here I am.”

“Spencer, thanks for the quick reply.  We have a situation that needs your immediate attention.  Our computer model of the soil strata and the electromagnetic instrumentation at the bottom of the mineshaft are suggesting a large void at approximately eighteen thousand feet.

“That means we’re getting near the bottom.”

“The problem is your last core sample. It’s almost entirely dense lava rock. Our model suggests a thickness in the range of eight hundred to eleven hundred feet.”

“Wow, what do you want me to do?”  He had known about the lava since earlier that morning when the crew had reached that level. He had learned, though, that it was easier to let Steve do the talking. The more Steve thought he was in control the better.

“This morning Mr. Detton gave us a directive that must be followed to the letter.  He wants the mine off limits to all non-essential personnel.  That means no visitors and no one without our authorization gets down that mine.  Is this clear?”

“Of course,” Spencer said, biting back what he really wanted to say. “What about the inspectors, what do I tell them?” 

“You’ll need to create a diversion. We want no one down there. What do you anticipate in terms of the time needed to penetrate the lava rock?”  Steve asked, his voice anxious.

“If your calculations are correct on the thickness, I’ll be able to give you an estimate once we reach the lava layer and determine the rate of excavation. Right now, it’s impossible to guess.”  He knew exactly how long it would take, but he needed to buy time for himself before the entire CIA team converged on the project. 

Antonio Casenza was always well dressed no matter what the occasion or the weather.  Antonio was also always pleased to see Spencer.

“Spencer, my boy,” Antonio said, always the charmer, “Nice of you to visit, come in.” He led Spencer through his plush living room and out onto the patio. He nodded to the maid, who bent down and flipped a switch. There was a sputter and then a cool mist filled the air. Antonio signaled for Spencer to have a seat. The maid disappeared into the house.

“Thanks. Antonio. Thanks for seeing me. I need to discuss something rather, uh, delicate with you.”  Spencer swallowed hard. He trusted Antonio, but still hesitated to tell him too much. “We’ve reached the lava layer. That means we’re nearly at the depth level where we first detected the strange material.”

“Great job.” So what’s the problem?”

“Steve just called and he has orders to seal up the area tighter than a drum.  Frankly, the CIA worries me. I know that once we reach the area in question, we’ll no longer be needed. They’ll take full control of the project and we’ll never know what’s down there. You yourself told me not to trust them. What do we do?”

Antonio lit a long, thin cigarette and blew a puff of smoke into the mist.  “We buy time. How long did you tell Steve it would take to reach bottom?”

“I didn’t. I told him that we haven’t yet reached the lava layer and that I had no way of telling how fast we could excavate through it. It was a lie, we reached the area this morning.”

Antonio tapped his cigarette on the ashtray. “Hmm,” he said. “What do you think it will take to get through?”

“Not much. Based on my calculations, we’ll be there in less than three days. The lava is much softer at lower levels. I’ve kept the core samples here so Steve has no idea yet.”

“You’re a rascal, Spencer.  I’m glad to hear that you aren’t trusting them.”

“You told me not to, remember?”

“Of course.” Antonio gave Spencer an approving smile.  “You do know that this could get us in very serious trouble,” he added.

“Yeah, I know, but I think the alternative is a lot more dangerous.”

Antonio nodded in agreement. “I admire your courage, Spencer,” he said.

Coming from a man who seemed to know no fear, that was quite a compliment.

“We should be able to stall the CIA at least two weeks,” Spencer said, sounding more confident than he felt. He had spent hours going over the latest lava samples, but there were dozens of ways things could go terribly wrong.

“Good.” Antonio crushed out his cigarette. “Let’s find out what’s really down there and evaluate the situation then. This could all be for nothing.” 

Or the archeological find of the century.

The maid returned with a tray and two glasses of iced tea. Antonio thanked her with a kind smile. Spencer had been only a child when he lost his father. Over the last few months Antonio had unexpectedly become a sort of father figure to him.

“How are you going to handle the live feed?”  Antonio asked.

“We’ve had glitches before.  I’ll simply shut it down at the appropriate time.”

“You’ll have to be careful with that. Don’t give them any reason to get suspicious.”

“I’m sure I’ll come up with something. I’ve got Steve thinking he’s in full control. He trusts me.”

“I have great confidence in you, Spencer.  I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

Spencer sipped his tea and gazed out at the desert through the mist. The misters were a shameful waste of water, but he had to admit it made the desert heat bearable. “What should I tell McPearson?  He has standing plane reservations.  He wants to be here the minute we reach the area containing the alien material”

“I say treat him the same as the CIA. If you don’t, someone will get suspicious.  Time is our best ally right now, let’s take advantage of it.”

Four days later Spencer swung open the door of the FOU. Matt was sitting in the recliner, his face flushed and beaming. “Good morning, Mr. Spencer,” he said with a big grin. 

“You got through, didn’t you? You hit the void?”  Spencer’s heart started racing.

“We did boss, less than an hour ago.”  Matt was clearly excited to be the one to break the news. After all, they had been waiting for this day through sixteen months of non-stop grueling work.

“Who else knows about this?”

“You and me and the first shift crew.  They’re still waiting at the bottom for instructions from you.”

“Great. Let’s get down there and survey the area first. No word of this to anyone Matt, clear?” Spencer took Matt by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Are we clear?” He had only a small space of time before word would leak out to the CIA. It was time to put his plan in motion.

“Hey Spencer, I’m on your side, remember?”  Matt had expressed his fondness toward Spencer before. He would have done anything for him. And both men were suspicious of the CIA and the Egyptian Department of Antiquity.

Spencer kept stride with Matt until an unsettling thought hit him. His stomach tightened. Had Washington seen the crew reach the void? He stopped and grabbed Matt by the arm. “Matt, is the feed on?” 

“No, I cut the it two hours ago,” Matt smiled. “When the first equipment broke through the lava rock, I pulled the plug.”  Matt said, hesitation in his voice.

“You did the right thing.”

Matt placed his hands on his hips, took a deep breath, and looked off in the distance.

“You look worried,” Spencer said. “What’s bothering you?”

“Well, when I disconnected the main feed at the bottom of the shaft something strange happened.”

“What?”

“I was trying to cut the feed so that it would look like an accident, but I noticed a strange loop in the wires.  I followed the lead from the monitor . . .”

“And?”

 “I think it’s not ours.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I think we’ve got someone out there watching every move we make, and I don’t mean the CIA.”

“Shit.” Spencer took a few long strides toward the mine. “We’ve got to get down there.”

Matt rushed ahead and stepped in front of him. He looked Spencer in the eye. “I know how much you care for Roula, but I saw her at that very spot, you know, the day she wandered down the mine alone.”  Matt stepped back.  He’d said what he had to say.

“Come on, you think Roula’s a spy?”

“All I’m telling you is what I saw.”

“I already asked Roula about it. She said she was just looking for me and happened upon the monitor. She was just trying to figure out what it was for.”

Matt continued to gaze at Spencer, doubt reflected in his eyes. “Maybe it’s all a coincidence . . . But it must have occurred to you, too.”

“Well, it did. But like I said—” 

“Okay, forget it.” Matt stepped out of Spencer’s path. “The only sure thing is that someone is spying on us and we had better find out who it is.”

“Abdul would be my first guess.” Spencer’s face flushed with anger. “Sneaky old bastard.”

            As they approached the mine, Matt signaled to the two men at the entry to open the gate. “We’d better hurry,” Spencer called. He was the first in the elevator and he had a video camera ready.  “Actually, Matt,” he said, “this can work to our advantage. We’ll tell the CIA about the breach. They’ll insist that we keep the feed off.  This will give us precious time to examine the cavity.” 

Matt smiled. “You’re always a step ahead, boss.”

He didn’t feel a step ahead. In fact, his head was spinning. Was Roula up to something? And if so, what?

CHAPTER 9

At the bottom of the shaft Spencer congratulated the crew and gave them the rest of the day off.  He explained to them the importance of keeping everything quiet until he had a chance to survey the entire cavity.  Matt assured Spencer that the crew could be trusted.  Equipped with his video camera, Spencer led Matt deep into the mammoth cavity.

“Damn, this cave is huge,” Matt said. “What do you think happened here?” 

Spencer walked in a circle. The sheer magnitude of the cave was overwhelming. “This cavity was formed a long time ago by a huge volcanic eruption.” Spencer replied.  From the flow characteristics of the lava, the cavity was formed in a very short time, sealing everything in it.  This type of volcanic upheaval would have to date back hundreds of thousands of years.”

“There’s no oil here, Spencer.”

“I know.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “You mean—”

Spencer nodded. “What we saw on the aerial reconnaissance was the resonance of this huge cave.  There’s something more important than oil somewhere in this cave. We’re going to find the source of that alien material.”

            Matt’s face shone with anticipation. “The eruption would have closed off all life as it existed and preserved the site in its original state.”

“That’s right.” Spencer bent down and rubbed his hand across the smooth lava surface. “Do you realize that we’re the first humans to walk on this soil.” He stroked the ground as if it were a beloved pet. “It’s been undisturbed for hundreds of thousands of years.”  Spencer turned on the video camera to document this incredible moment in his life.  The cave seemed to extend for miles and the ceiling varied from twenty feet to several hundred feet in height.  The ground was hard and the lava rock was slick.  It made walking treacherous.  Spencer and Matt moved forward slowly, trying to locate the position of the exploratory drilling that had hit the alien material.  The mineshaft had been drilled approximately two hundred feet from the original drill site.  This was done as a precaution since no one knew what was at the bottom.  He didn’t want to take any chances while excavating the large mine shaft.  He adjusted the overhead lights to shine farther into the cave. A strange silvery object appeared in the distance.  Frantic, he hurried forward until he was about a hundred feet away.

He dropped to his knees, the video camera falling into his lap. “Jesus Christ . . .”

Matt came up behind him and stopped at his side. “What the hell . . .?

The two men stayed that way for a long moment, as if frozen in time. There were no words to describe what they were seeing.

“It sure as hell ain’t natural.” Matt said finally.

 Directly in front of them was a huge geometrical object partially buried in the lava rock.

“My God! It’s incredible,” Matt said. “But what the hell is it?”

The object in front of them was of enormous proportions.  It appeared to be perfectly geometrical and was in the shape of two pyramids joined together at their bases.

“They’re pyramids,” Matt said, stating the obvious. “They look like they were made by a . . . a . . .”

“Giant spider,” Spencer finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah, it’s like a gigantic pyramid made of spider webs.” Matt took the camera from Spencer’s unmoving hands and turned it on. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” he said, “but it sure as hell wasn’t this.”

The entire outer shape of the object was composed of stiff parallel wires approximately thirty inches apart with perfect connections at each intersection. The wires were of a strange metallic composition that resembled gold.  In the center of the two pyramids was a cigar shaped object. It was so smooth it shimmered, and it projected outward from where the wires formed the pyramids.  The connected pyramids spanned a distance of well over a hundred feet.  One of the pyramids was partially embedded in the hard lava floor with the cigar shape center lying horizontally within the web of wires.

“This is why we’re here.”  Spencer whispered, awestruck.  “This is the discovery that will change the world forever.” Spencer stood up and brushed the dust off his knees.  “Whatever this thing is, it has been here for a very long time.”  He took the camera from Matt and filmed his approach toward the object.  His mind wandered to a distant past left undiscovered until today. He approached the object with caution.

“This thing must be over a hundred feet tall!”  Matt exclaimed.  “I wonder how far it’s embedded in the lava.”  Matt had gone pale, a look of awe and astonishment on his face.

Spencer ignored Matt’s comments.  He had to make sure he documented the discovery in a scientifically acceptable form. The entire world needed to know about this, and they had to believe his findings. Nothing could be left to chance.  Even with scientific accuracy, it would be difficult to convince anyone that this wasn’t a scene right out of a science fiction novel. Even now, looking at it with his own eyes, could he really believe what he was seeing?

“Spencer, look at this!”  Matt called. He had walked behind the object and crawled through the wires. He stood at the base of the cigar shaped capsule. “It looks like some kind of entryway. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a way to get into this thing.”  Matt ran his hands across the smooth surface. “It’s a door, but there’s no lever or handle to get in.”

 Spencer carefully made his way over to Matt without stopping the camera. “Shine your light here,” he said, pointing at a panel.

            What is it?”  Matt asked.

 “Looks like some kind of writing . . . very strange . . . I’ve never seen it before.” 

Spencer looked over the camera. “It looks like hieroglyphics,” he said, “but damned if I can read it!”  Spencer sighed and looked through the video viewfinder as if it would somehow give him a clearer picture.

“Oh, yeah, I think it is hieroglyphics. I’ve seen that type of writing before,” Matt said.

The inner capsule was made of an unusual gold-green material.  The light from the video camera reflected off its shiny surface.

“Matt,” Spencer said, speaking as much for himself and the camera as for Matt.

“This object is perfectly preserved.  When the cavity formed, it must have happened in an instant, sealing everything inside.”

Matt let out a nervous laugh. “Do you think this is a spaceship from some other planet that crashed here?”

“Before we can make that determination, we’ll need to get inside.  I can’t see how this contraption could fly.”  Spencer sighed again, puzzled.

“For now we need to secure this area and create a diversion for the CIA and whoever else is spying on us.  Let’s get back and figure out a way to open the capsule’s door.”

“Right. What do we tell the crew?”

“Assemble only your most trusted men and let me talk to them.  We’ll have to tell them the truth.  It’s the only way they’ll help us.”

Spencer’s mind filled with an image of Roula.  He needed her more than ever now.  She was the only person he knew who had a shot at deciphering the writing near the door, but could she be their spy?  Why would she do such a thing? None of it made sense.

Spencer stopped just before they reached the entrance and turned to Matt. “We have to blow up the mine shaft.”

“What?” Matt stared at Spencer, his jaw slack. 

If the CIA found out what was down there, they’d remove him from the project in an instant and take over.  If that happened, the discovery would be lost to humanity forever. “This discovery is too big,” he said to Matt. “If word gets out, we’re history.”

 “If we blow up the shaft, how will we get back in?”

“I have a plan.  Let’s meet back here in two hours.  Remember, get only the most trusted men from the crew that was here when we broke through. Tell them to meet me at the mine shaft opening at one sharp.”

Roula Grazulis padded across the cool tile floor and opened the door. Ralph Spencer stood in her doorway, a deep frown on his face. A chill ran down her spine. “Spencer, what happened?  Is something wrong?” 

“Yes, something is very wrong.  Can I come in?”

Spencer’s voice was cold and his green eyes had an icy glaze. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t good. “Of course,” she said in a vain attempt at sounding breezy, “Come in.” She ran her fingers through her hair and then twisted it into a knot. It was a nervous habit she’d had since childhood and had never been able to break. There’d been a quaver in her voice? Had Spencer heard it? There was only one thing to do. She pulled him close and pressed her body into his. She tilted her head back and moved to kiss him. Spencer gently pushed her away and told her to sit down.  He sat across from her but said nothing. He seemed to be searching for the right words. Whatever he had to say, she had the feeling it was going to be painful.

“Roula, I want you to know that I have fallen in love with you.” 

A flood of relief washed over her. “Oh, Ralph—”

He held up his hand “And that’s why what I’m about to ask you is very hard for me.”   Roula reached out to take his hand and then stopped. Her own hands were trembling. It would do no good for him to see how nervous she was.

“We’ve discovered a breach of security in the mine. Someone is monitoring our satellite transmission.  Matt found evidence of a tap into our feed on one of the monitors.”

“Why would anyone do that? It’s just an oil dig, right?”

Spencer ignored her question. “The tap was on the line Matt saw you looking at.”

“Are you suggesting I tapped it?”  She jumped to her feet, strode across the room, running her fingers through her hair, and then walked back to where Spencer sat.

“Did you? “ Spencer asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I thought we’d already discussed this.” Roula stepped away from him and looked at the floor.  She opened and closed her mouth several times, but said nothing. What could she possibly say that would convince him of her innocence?

“Did you?”  Spencer repeated gently.

He stood and gently lifted her chin toward him. The gesture melted her heart. Her eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t me,” she said, “But I know who it was.”

Abdul?” Spencer asked.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Who else?”

“ Mr. Abdul came to my apartment and demanded that I place the tap. He somehow knew that we’d met and that I could gain your trust and get access to the mine. He must have had someone spying on us.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “That night at the bar . . . someone must have been watching.” She took a step back, crossed her arms, and shook her head as if trying to clear the thought from her head. “Abdul made it very apparent that if I didn’t cooperate, I would be on the next plane to New York and my work in Egypt would be over for good. That’s why I left for a while. By the time I got back, it seemed as though Abdul had forgotten about me.  I know I should have told you, but I was afraid of what Abdul might do.”
            “Well, if you didn’t set the feed, who did?

“He must have found someone else.”

Tears were flowing down her cheeks. She needed to pull it together. She needed Spencer to believe her. “The Department of Antiquity gave me a full scholarship for my PhD . . . I didn’t want to blow that, and I thought that if I told you . . . well, I thought Abdul might make good on his threat.” She searched Spencer’s eyes, but couldn’t get a read on his thoughts. The man could sure shut off his emotions when he wanted to. He had found something in that mine, and she would find out what it was. What more could she say to convince him? “ I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. It was selfish of me, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Well, my career . . . my life’s work . . . it was all on the line.”

“I understand,” Spencer wiped the tears from her cheeks.

 “I wanted to tell you so many times. I’m glad that it’s finally out. I am so sorry for hurting you, and for disappearing the way I did. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Roula, I need your help.”

“Anything.”

“You might not say that when you find out what I need. Are you willing to risk your job and your future to help me?”

 “Yes,” Roula said, looking fully into his eyes.  “I will do it for us . . . because I’ve fallen in love with you, too.” She leaned in to kiss him and this time he didn’t push her away. His lips pressed into hers and he wrapped her in his arms. Her body stopped trembling as she relaxed and allowed his body to melt against her.

He pulled away and groaned. “I so want this, but now is not the time,” he said. “I’ve got too much to tell you.” He took her hands and sat her down. “If this is going to work, you need to tell me all you know about the Department of Antiquity and what they know.” 

Spencer held Roula’s hands as waves of relief washed over him. She hadn’t set the tap. She was innocent. And she had willingly revealed Abdul’s duplicity. Best of all, she had admitted that she loved him.  It was music to his ears.  He believed her.  But even if he hadn’t, he had little choice but to trust her.  He needed her to decipher those hieroglyphics.  They would be a great team together.  He pulled her to him and held her  close. They were secure, for now, in one another’s arms.

Roula was the first to break the embrace. She looked into his eyes with an earnestness he’d never seen before. “The department of Antiquity has suspected that something strange was happening with this project from the beginning, Abdul wanted me to find out what you were really up to.  They checked into your background and knew about your archeology degree.  Abdul believes that Calpetro has a secret plan involving an archeological discovery.  He wanted me to find out what that plan was . . . but I refused . . . Her voice trailed off and she appeared to be lost in thought. “They’re still in the dark about what you’re looking for and . . .” She paused. “So am I.” 

Roula had stopped trembling and her words seemed sincere.  He wanted to tell her everything, but he had to do it carefully. He was still in shock over what they’d found, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. “We have a contract with Egypt.  Calpetro told them that we might have found gold under the desert. We told them to keep this operation secret to avert a local gold rush. Since we are in a sensitive archeological region, a gold rush here could destroy any remaining archeological finds or even the well known existing sites.” 

“Wow, is that true? I was never told anything about that.” She seemed genuinely surprised by the news.

“Well, sort-of.” Spencer looked down.  The truth had to be explained to her.  He needed her to decipher the inscription on the door of the capsule. What was holding him back? He wanted desperately to trust her, but could he?

Spencer led her to the door. “Let’s take a walk.  What I’m about to tell you needs to be told where no one could possibly hear us.”

Her dark eyes grew wide, but she said nothing. He held her hand as they strolled into the streets of Cairo. They walked to one of their favorite spots in the park. He gave her a long, passionate kiss. “I can’t believe how hard I’ve fallen for you,” he said. “I love you, and I feel as if I’ve known you always.”

She laid her hand on his cheek and smiled. “I feel the same way, and I don’t care what Abdul does to me or my visa. All I care about is being with you.”  Roula kissed him, her eyes focused on his.

He needed her, and God knew he wanted her, but he had to be able to trust her.  His confusion was muddling his brain. Spencer took both her hands in his and kissed them. He took in a deep breath and then let the entire story pour out of him.

Roula’s stomach was doing summersaults. “Let me get this straight. You found a strange device at the bottom of the mine?”

“We don’t know what it is; it might be alien—”

“What else could it be?”

“We don’t know. Matt and I discovered a door, but we’ve been unable to open it.  The inscriptions on the door are some sort of hieroglyphics.”

“Who else knows about this?”  Roula’s voice was gruff and her hands trembled. She was excited and frightened all at the same time. And why shouldn’t she be? This was the find of the century and her chance to decipher what may very well be the oldest writing known to man. How could she possibly contain her enthusiasm?

“We pulled the feed as soon as we found the breach.  No one knows yet.  I’d like to keep it that way, at least until we figure out what we have.

“Oh, my God, the feed . . .” She looked down at the ground.  “You killed the entire feed?”

“Yes.”

 “Good . . . that’s good.”

“The CIA will be here in the blink of an eye,” Spencer said. “If they find out what’s really down there, it’ll be all over for us.  We’ll be debriefed.”

“Debriefed?” 

“Yes.  That means the CIA takes over, and we will be removed from the project.  To us and the rest of the world, this project will never have existed.”  Spencer spat the words as if they had tasted bitter to him.

“Our own government would do that?”

“That, and I’m afraid, possibly much more.  Antonio’s warned me that this is dangerous business, and I believe him.  Any non-cooperation would require our immediate  ousting from the project and possibly our . . . elimination.”

“Are you serious?  They would actually kill us?” 

“I don’t know that they’d kill us, but I do think they’d go to any length to keep this secret. At the very least, they’d destroy our reputations and our careers . . . you know, make us out to be fringe scientists so no one would believe us.”

Her stomach roiled at the thought. This was something right out of a spy novel. Surely the CIA wouldn’t destroy an innocent person’s career just because he knew about an archeological find. She sighed. “It wouldn’t be hard for them to do it, either. No one will believe any of this without hard evidence . . . I mean, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t heard it from you.”

“That’s right. So we can’t underestimate the CIA. Me, you, and anyone else who might get in their way.” He took her chin in his hand. “Anyone with knowledge about this discovery is at risk, and that’s why we need to move quickly. Are you still on board? Will you help me?”

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Anything,” she said with far more confidence than she felt. “Nothing could stop me.”

“This isn’t a game Roula.  It will be very dangerous.” A smile spread across his face, “But it’ll be a hell of an adventure too, huh?

His excitement was contagious. “Absolutely,” she said. “Together we can beat them.”

On the drive back to the mine, Roula was filled with excitement.

Roula walked alongside Spencer at they approached the dig site. The scene was so surreal, she was tempted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming all this. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined being part of such a crucial find.

Matt stood at the entrance to the mine surrounded by four of his most trusted men.  He greeted Spencer and then, spotting Roula behind him, looked at Spencer with a big question in his eyes. 

Spencer put his hand up. “Matt,” he said. “Roula’s here to help us. She told me that the Department of Antiquity was behind the breach—”

“Then what the hell is she doing here?  Have you lost your mind?”  Matt stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled from one foot to the other.

“She didn’t set the tap. She refused Abdul. Don’t worry, she’s with us a hundred percent.”  

“Matt, I—” Roula said.

Spencer turned to her, the look on his face making her stop cold. What did he think she was going to say? The trust and concern that she saw in his face was almost more than she could bear.

Spencer looked to the four men. “You’ve all seen Roula here before. She knows about the real project and she’s with us. She’ll be deciphering the hieroglyphics, which means we’ll get inside. You men have been hand picked to help us with this unprecedented discovery. All of you are aware of the utmost secrecy this project warrants. Our lives depend on it.  I must advise you of the danger we all face from this moment forward. If any one of you has concerns or doesn’t wish to continue, now is the time to tell me.”  Spencer paused and looked each man in the eye. No one said a word.

“Great,” Spencer said. “Let’s find out what that mysterious object is before it’s too late.” 

Spencer led the small group down the mineshaft. Matt placed two of the men as guards at the entrance of the shaft. The other two helped with the cameras and equipment Spencer had assembled. 

At the bottom, Roula felt her own jaw drop. The sheer magnitude of the object was beyond belief. “This is magnificent.”

Spencer pushed her lower jaw back into place. “It’s beyond that, it’s the discovery of the millennium. We need to get inside.”

The three of them worked their way between the golden wires. It was as if they were entering a giant three-dimensional web.  As she got closer to the door markings, her hands began to shake.

“Matt, put the lights here so Roula can see the markings.” Spencer stood back with his arms crossed.

Roula stepped closer to the door. Her heart slammed against her chest as she ran her hands along the markings.

“What do you make of it?”

“Incredible! Are you sure we’re not dreaming all this?”  Her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears as it echoed through the cave.

“I am afraid this is quite real,” Spencer said. “Now what do you make of these markings?”

“Hold on,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I need to examine them carefully.”  Roula sat on one of the wires and held a flashlight over the inscriptions. Matt was intent on filming the event as instructed by Spencer.

“Here, see this symbol?” She said.

“Yes.” Spencer waited, his eyes shining.

“This is a form of the earliest hieroglyphics known to man, except that here we have such a refined sophistication. I’ve never seen anything like it.  It incorporates some very complex sentence structures.  It will take some doing to decode this.”  She swallowed hard. This discovery was beyond even her considerable imagination.

“How long?” Spencer asked, his voice anxious.

“Since these inscriptions are on this door, it’s likely that they pertain to the door and its function.” Roula paused, intent on analyzing every symbol. 

Spencer alternated between hovering over her shoulder and pacing back and forth. She hadn’t answered his question, but she didn’t know what to tell him. Deciphering this kind of hieroglyphics would be a slow methodical process. That the decoding of the inscriptions would lead to the opening of the door was the only thing she was sure of. She looked closely at one of the inscriptions. “Of course,” she muttered.

Spencer stopped pacing and rushed over to her. Matt followed behind him.

“These are instructions for opening the door.”  Her fingers searched for something near the bottom of the door. “Here.” She looked up at Spencer and then Matt. “Stand back. The door is hermetically sealed. When it opens the air inside will rush out. It’ll be very old air and it could be contaminated.”  She had found a small button on the bottom of the door concealed by a sliding plate that matched perfectly with the outer surface.  She pressed in and the door moved upward with a smooth sliding hiss.  They all froze. She looked at the two men, both of whom appeared awestruck.  This was the biggest discovery in human history. Roula was deafened by the sound of her own heartbeat.

CHAPTER 10

Spencer asked Matt to keep on filming as he slowly stepped inside followed by Roula.  What awaited them had been kept secret from the world for millennia. Who knew what they would find? 

Inside the object everything gleamed like brand new, as if time had stood still,  everything preserved by the fast-setting volcanic void and the hermetically sealed door. Things were left exactly as they had been eons ago by whoever had constructed this mechanical marvel. 

Matt followed them through the door, the video camera clutched in his hands. “I want to get everything,” he said, his voice breathless, “This is for all future generations to see.”

 “Look here!”  Spencer ran his finger along a smooth wall where a row of evenly placed metal boxes stood, each one covered with hieroglyphics. 

“What are they?” Matt asked.

“I have no idea.” Roula said.

 “Here, let me zoom in on them,” Matt adjusted the camera’s lens.

   Roula picked up the first box from the shelf and squinted as she attempted to read the inscriptions. Spencer was surveying the rest of the room, looking for additional clues as to what this strange object might be. 

“Oh, my God!” Roula gasped, tears streaming down her face.

“What is it?” Spencer rushed to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“I know what this is,” she said. “It’s astonishing.” Her eyes, wide open, searched Spencer’s face. Her jaw moved, but no words followed.

“Is it a weapon?” Spencer asked, his voice somber.

“No, not at all.”  She turned to the camera and held up the box, pointing at the odd lettering.  “According to the inscriptions,” she continued in an authoritative voice, “these strange little boxes contain recordings from what must have been a very ancient civilization or some other civilization not from this earth.”  Roula was beaming, her confidence in the assertion she had just made written all over her face.

“This is incredible!” Matt shouted. 

Spencer turned to him and held a finger to his lips.  Matt’s face flushed and he looked back into the camera’s lens.

“Are you saying this is some kind of . . . some sort of . . .” He couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“Time capsule,” Roula said. “Some civilization, at some time, wanted future generations to know who they were.” She looked around the capsule. “This is their legacy.”

Spencer stared at Roula. His doubt was likely written all over his face, but he couldn’t help it. What she was proposing seemed preposterous.

“Do you want to look inside?” she asked.

 He opened one of the boxes. Inside lay a small cylinder, perfectly smooth, approximately three inches in diameter and about one and a half inches thick. The cylinder seemed to be made of metal, perfectly solid and yet when looked at under the flashlight as transparent as glass.

“Spencer, these writings are suggesting some type of sequential order,” she whispered.

“You mean it’s some kind of databank?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Jesus, it is a time capsule.” He placed the cylinder back in the box that Roula still held. “Spencer’s mind was racing. The cylinders had to be historical recordings. But recordings of what? How were the cylinders activated and decoded? If so, what would they find? “Damn,” he said shaking his head. “This is a time capsule.” 

“Yes.” Roula laughed. “That’s what I told you.” Roula held up the cylinder and faced the camera. “I believe these cylinders are here to show us the culture and history of another society,” Roula spoke directly into the camera’s lens.  “These inscriptions,” she pointed to the box, “are surely pointing us in that direction.” She dropped her authoritative voice. “It could be anything,” she said, the words rushing out now. “It could come from this world, some ancient society, or from another, maybe from an advanced, planet.” 

Spencer walk toward the inner chamber of the capsule. “If these cylinders contain records of an advanced civilization, there must be some device here to play or scan these cylinders.  It could work something like a CD player of today.” 

“Matt, bring the camera around, I want to examine the inner core of this capsule.”

Spencer walked toward the center of the capsule where a very ornate door sealed the access to some inner chamber and Matt followed behind him.

“Roula,” he called, “can you read this?” Spencer was pointing along a wall full of unusual hieroglyphics.  Roula walked over to where Spencer stood, the box holding the cylinder still clutched in her hands. She passed the box to Spencer. “Be careful with it,” she said absently.

She ran her hand along the hieroglyphics. After a moment she pulled out a notebook and started scribbling a combination of symbols and words.

 Spencer stood behind her and Matt continued to film. The hieroglyphics here appeared far more complex than anything else Roula had encountered; even he could see that. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. He signaled to Matt to stop filming. Roula didn’t need any more pressure. She already seemed desperate to figure out the code needed to gain access. 

“No,” she finally answered, disappointment in her voice. “Matt, please film this entire wall very carefully. I’m going to work on this at home with the aid of my encryption program.”

“Hold on.” Matt was listening to his earpiece connection with the outside guards.

“Shit.  We need to get the hell out of here.  Abdul’s on his way here…he just called.”

“How much time do we have?”  Spencer drew in a deep calming breath.

“Less than an hour.  What do we do?” 

Spencer gazed at Matt’s questioning face. There was only one solution. “We’ll blast the mine shut.”

“What?” Matt said.

“Tell the crew to prepare the explosive.  I want to blow this tunnel in twenty minutes.  Help me load all these boxes in the elevator. Let’s move!”

The three of them stacked all of the boxes inside the elevator. Matt’s men had placed enough explosives at the very bottom of the shaft to block off at least the bottom fifty feet of it. Would it be enough?

The small group rode the elevator to the surface in silence.  The twenty-minute ride seemed like an eternity. Spencer ushered the group out of the elevator and directed them to the mine entrance. “Set it off now!” he yelled.

There was a muffled rumble deep inside the mine.  Spencer sighed in relief. “Matt, bring your crew here and please hurry.”

Once the five men were assembled, Spencer shoveled up a pile of dirt and threw it onto the men, several of whom gasped in surprise.

“What the hell is this?”  Matt said.

“This will make our accident seem more real.” Spencer said, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Thank God no one was hurt.”

The crew got in the spirit and started throwing handfuls of the dry desert sand at each other.

“Roula,” Spencer said, “You need to get out of here right away.” He pressed the small camera into her hand. “If Abdul sees you here, it could put you in grave danger.”

“I know.”

He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her honeysuckle-scented hair. God, he didn’t want to let her go. What the hell was he thinking dragging her into this mess? “It’ll be fine,” he whispered, knowing that it may not be fine at all. “Now go.” He released her and watched her run toward the gate. She stopped, turned, and waved. He’d never forget the lost look on her face at that moment. He nodded and waved back. He suddenly didn’t give a damn about the discovery that lay buried in the mine. He just wanted to go with her, for the two of them to be alone, in each other’s arms, maybe on some quiet island in the Caribbean. But that was impossible. There was no turning back.

“Let’s go,” he said to Matt. The two men jogged side by side toward the FOU. “Activate the alarm system as soon as you can,” Spencer said.

Matt nodded and took the key from Spencer’s hand. 

A long black sedan pulled up and a moment later and Abdul stepped out. He was surrounded by absolute chaos. Sirens screamed and men were running everywhere.

Perfect.

Spencer stepped out of the FOU and walked to meet him. “What’s going on? Abdul demanded.

“This is a very bad time, Mr. Abdul.  There’s been a serious accident inside the mine.  Over fifty feet of the shaft collapsed.”  Spencer spoke in a stern voice and let himself appear shaken, which wasn’t too hard to do given the circumstances.

“What do you mean?” Abdul’s eyes reflected his confusion. “Can’t you turn off that damned alarm?”

“We’ll try, sir.” Spencer answered. “Here’s what happened . . .” He headed for the mineshaft at a rapid pace. Abdul walked alongside him, waving his cane in the air and struggling to keep up.

“While excavating this afternoon,” Spencer said, “we hit an unstable strata and the shaft suddenly caved in.  There was no time to give notice and close off the mine.  We were lucky to get all the men to safety without any serious injuries.”

Abdul was huffing along beside him. Spencer pointed to the dirt-covered men who were standing near the opening eyeing Abdul suspiciously.

Abdul grabbed Spencer’s arm and stopped. “We need to perform our inspection.  I had planned on going to the bottom of the mine today.”

Spencer yanked his arm free and brushed at his sleeve as though Abdul had soiled it with his touch. “No disrespect, sir, but you’ll need to reschedule this inspection.  I have to determine the extent of the damage first and ensure that all safety precautions are in place.” He needed this disgusting man to go away at least for a few days.

“No.” Abdul huffed. “I must inspect the bottom of the mine now, Mr. Spencer. Let’s go!” Abdul stamped his foot and headed for the elevator.

            Spencer shrugged. He had not choice be to give Abdul what he wanted. He ushered the Egyptian past the dusty men and into the elevator. Thank God he’d had the men hide all the boxes containing the cylinders in an equipment crate. They started the long descent.  At about fifteen thousand feet the dust became so thick the men could barely breathe. He wasn’t about to stop, not until Abdul told him to turn back.

            Abdul started hacking. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it over his mouth. “I . . . can’t . . . breathe,” he said.

“For our own safety, we need to turn back,” Spencer said, “This is unsafe . . .” he coughed “without the proper equipment.” He pulled his t-shirt over his mouth and nose. “If we go any further,” he yelled, “we’ll run out of air.”

Abdul’s expression changed from anger to fear. His eyes were red and watering. What more did the man need to be convinced that indeed an accident had blocked the mine.

“Damn,” he said finally. “Okay, get me out of here.”

They rode the elevator back to the surface without speaking. By the time they arrived at the top, they were both coughing and tears were streaming from their eyes. Spencer pulled open the grate for the older man. “I will personally call you sir, the minute we have this shaft cleared and safe for your inspection.”

Abdul grunted and stormed out of the mine entrance waving his cane before him. He stopped just outside, leaned the cane against his leg, and wiped his face with the handkerchief. “How long?”

“About two weeks.”  Spencer used his most reassuring voice.

“You have four days.” 

Spencer sighed in relief as Abdul’s car passed the main gate and headed back to Cairo. He met Matt back at the FOU. “How long will it take to clear the mine shaft?”

Matt shrugged. “We’ll need to determine the extent of the damage caused by the blast. Since the outer walls are lined in concrete and the shaft is made of lava rock, I would say we could get to the bottom pretty quick.”

“How quick?” Spencer asked. He didn’t want to get impatient with Matt, but Abdul’s timeline had him on edge.

“I would guess forty-eight hours or less.”

“Dammit. That’ll give us almost no time to get back inside the capsule.” Spencer paced the narrow FOU.

“What about the man-lift?” Matt asked.

“The man-lift.” Spencer snapped his fingers. “Of course.”  We can get back down there as soon as Roula has deciphered the hieroglyphics that’ll let us into that inner chamber.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?”

“Knowing Roula, not long. She won’t sleep until she’s figured it out.”

Matt nodded but said nothing. Did he still mistrust Roula? Well, if he did, it didn’t matter. Roula was their only hope for getting inside that inner chamber.

 “I think we need to make a core shipment to the US today,” Spencer said.

“But shouldn’t we—” 

“We need to get a few of the cylinders to the US. We’ll ship them in an empty core sample. It’s doubtful customs will find them in there.”

“Great idea, boss.”

“Remember, not a word of this to anyone. This is between us. I think you know the consequences if word gets out.” 

“Don’t worry,” Matt said. “I still can’t believe what I saw down there today. You couldn’t drag me off this job.”

Spencer laughed “Yeah, I hear you. So, for safety’s sake, let’s ship that package.”

The two men stuffed the first four boxes inside an empty cardboard cylinder used for core samples. Spencer packed both ends of the cylinder with actual dirt samples for extra security.  Spencer wrote Paul’s address on the shipment and used the regular procedures for shipping core samples to Calpetro.  Back at the FOU, he sent an e-mail to Paul with coded instructions to personally take the shipment to Spencer’s new place near the San Jose airport.  He typed “ZEBRA@WORK” as his personal password onto his laptop and the screen came alive.  The CIA “OPERALI” was online.  He  sent an encrypted e-mail message to Steve.

We have had a breach of security. The Egyptian government is monitoring our satellite transmission. I ordered the feed cut until security is restored, please advise. 

We have also had a full collapse of the mineshaft near the bottom. The bottom fifty feet of the shaft is totally blocked by the collapse. Matt estimates four days to get back on schedule. It was a close call, but no one was injured. We estimate getting through the hard lava bed in ten days. The shaft walls gave way directly above the lava section. We believe that the collapse was caused by excessive vibration while excavating the strata containing the hard lava. Please do not use landlines or satellite link up for communication.  It’s too dangerous until we get to the bottom of that unauthorized feed.  I will keep you informed as needed. 

He signed off and leaned back in his chair. Would his warning keep the CIA off any live transmissions? Only time would tell. He’d have to move fast. They had to get inside that inner chamber before anyone else found out about the capsule.

Spencer tapped on Roula’s door then turned the knob. The door was unlocked. Roula was working intently at her computer. She was so intent on decoding the hieroglyphics, she hadn’t even heard him come in.

“You look exhausted.”  Spencer said.

“Tell me about it. I’ve been working on this since I left.”

He hadn’t even startled her. “Why was your door unlocked? What if—”

“He’s already been here,” she said.

“Abdul?”

“Of course.

 “I think he came straight here from the site,” Roula said, an indignant tone in her voice.

“What happened?”

“He wanted to know why the feed died.”

The muscles in Spencer’s shoulders tensed. “Why would he think you’d know that?”

She shrugged. “I guess because he knows I’m seeing you.”

“What did you say?”

She rolled back in her chair and looked into his eyes for a long moment. “I told him I didn’t know anything. That you had called and said there was an accident, but that was all I knew.”

“And . . .”

I suggested that the accident had probably cut the communications and that it would take some time to restore.”

“Did he buy it?”

“Well, apparently. He told me about going down the shaft with you, which I kind of figured cause he was covered in dust. He seems to believe that some sort of accident happened, so I think he bought it.”  Roula’s words were coming out in a rush.

Spencer stepped closer and took her hands. “What’s wrong then?” 

“I’m worried . . . about us . . . about everything. This thing is so big and so surreal. I keep thinking about your warning . . . the CIA, Abdul . . . If this gets out, we don’t have a chance in hell.” 

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. She held him close as if she were afraid he might somehow escape her. 

“We’ll just have to stay ahead of them.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes.   He needed to keep her calm, make her feel secure. “I have a plan, but first we need to get into the inner chamber.”

She released him and sat back down at the computer.  “I’m working on deciphering the inscriptions.”

He moved closer to the computer as Roula began typing.  Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “This program is the cutting edge of hieroglyphics translation,” she said.  “Now that I’ve inputted everything I was able to decipher, I can make an attempt at decoding the entire alphabet. It’s definitely ancient. Once we have the basic meaning for each symbol, the computer will scan the writing and automatically translate it.”  She spoke with confidence. This was her field of expertise and she seemed to be in her element.  She knew she was essential to the project and to Spencer’s success and it showed.

“How does it work?” Spencer was curious.

“This computer program is similar to high level encryption programs usually used to decode passwords or sophisticated security messages. The program works on probabilities. It experiments with millions of options for any given symbol and it matches them with known translations.  It’s sort of like finding out the combination of a bank safe, except harder.”  She laughed.

Spencer smiled at her little joke. They both needed some relief from the stress. “How long will it take to translate this footage?”  Spencer pointed at the monitor, which was showing Matt’s film of the inner chamber door.

“It should be done by morning.” She stood up and stretched. “I’ve been looking at this screen so long, I can hardly see straight.

He took her hand and led her to the sofa. “Here, sit,” he said.

He stood behind her and massaged her shoulders. Her muscles softened under his touch.

She closed her eyes. “Mmmm,” she purred, “That feels wonderful.”

“We should get some rest,” he said with a catch in his throat. He had no desire to return to his hotel, but they both needed a good night’s sleep. “We have a very busy day ahead.” 

She looked up, a mischievous smile on her face. Her hand reached for his. She rose and pulled him toward the bedroom. “You’re right, we need rest.” She giggled and her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. 

How could he resist?  He turned her around and walked her backwards pulling her tank top over her head. They fell together onto the bed. She ran her fingers over his bare chest. He kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with an urgency that nearly overwhelmed him. She slipped off her bra and pressed her bare breasts into his chest. He stopped kissing her for a moment and gazed into her heavy-lidded eyes. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he said. She smiled and, weaving her hands through his hair, pulled him to her and kissed him in a way he’d never been kissed before. He surrendered to her.

When Spencer awoke, daylight was just breaking. He watched Roula sleep for a few minutes and then forced himself out of bed. He staggered to the kitchen and started coffee brewing.  The screen saver was running on the computer, so he clicked the mouse to see if the program was still running. He gasped. On the screen was the full English translation to the inner chamber inscriptions. He read what he saw on the screen out loud. “Historic replicator - remove first -none -first - device left - right - right - left - up - left - pressure - one – none.  He stumbled to the bedroom and woke Roula. “The computer,” he said, “come and see.”

Roula slipped into a silk bathrobe, tied it around her narrow waist, and sat down at the computer.

“What does it mean?” Spencer asked.  The translation seemed to need another translation to understand it.

“This is fascinating.”  Roula’s face brightened.  “Replicator is a modern word.  It implies a device that will reproduce images or recreate past historic events.”  Roula frowned as she studied the rest of the translation.

“A time capsule would house historic accounts of the time.”  Spencer said, excitement in his voice. “This replicator could be the device that plays the cylindrical objects.”

“That’s likely,” Roula said.

 If they could just figure out how to make it work, what would they find? If the capsule actually contained recorded accounts of some alien world or ancient civilization, it could be anything. Roula’s hands hovered over the keyboard. Her hair was tousled, her brow was furrowed, and her lips were turned down in an enticing pout. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, but he’d have to think about those sexy, pouting lips later. “What does the rest mean?” He asked, turning his attention to the strange translation on the screen.

“I don’t know. I’ll need to think about it. All the visible inscriptions had been translated. The level of accuracy is above ninety-eight percent. I think the answer is inside the capsule itself.”

“Let’s get back down there right away,” he said. “I’ll inform Matt.”

 “Give me a minute to get dressed,” Roula slipped out of the robe on the way to the bedroom.

Following her gorgeous brown body was a temptation he could barely resist. Damn, but she was hot. He pulled his telephone out of his pocket and sent Matt a quick coded text message.

“Ralph?” Roula called from the bedroom. “How will we get down?  What about the blast?”

“The man-lift. It’s in perfect working order.”  He smiled, pretty sure of what was coming next.

“Wait a minute.” She peeked out the bedroom door, her eyes wide. “You mean I’ll have to hang on the side of a belt for the eighteen-thousand foot ride down?”

“It’s perfectly safe, honest, it’s a piece of cake . . . Just don’t let go.”  He chuckled.

She smiled, but her face had gone pale. “How did you keep Abdul away from the lift?”

“Abdul thinks the lift only goes to fifteen-thousand feet.  He was told that the balance of the lift was on backorder due to a shortage of parts. We actually built two lifts; the second lift that starts at fifteen thousand feet is only known by Matt, the crew, and me.  We built it as a secret escape and a separate access to the cavity.”

“Wow, I’m so impressed. You’ve really thought this out.” She came through the door dressed in khaki shorts, a green t-shirt and hiking boots. She looked sexier than ever.

“Let’s get down there and open that door,” she said with conviction. 

Matt had been pacing for more than twenty minutes. Where the hell were they? He was ready to get back in that mine and was prepared to do whatever Spencer asked him to do to keep this find a secret. He had come to care for and respect Ralph Spencer. In equal measure he hated the snooping CIA and that sleazy Abdul.  Spencer had asked him to assemble the rig to transport the needed equipment down the man-lift.  He had brought two video cameras and the necessary lights. 

When the couple arrived, Roula was carrying her laptop computer and extra flashlights. He was still suspicious that she’d been messing with the feed when he saw her in the tunnel, but Spencer trusted her, and they needed her skill with the hieroglyphics if they were ever going to get into the inner chamber.

Spencer instructed the crew to bring extra tools, shovels, and various types of excavating devices, including a limited use of explosive, which were to be used as a last resort to open the inner chamber door. They were only a contingency in case Roula couldn’t make sense of the translation.  The blast had closed off the entrance immediately adjacent to the main elevator.  They would have to dig out a small tunnel by hand to access the cavity area.  It would take a second blast to the tunnel when they left the capsule to reseal the area.  Spencer had told Matt to pack oxygen masks for the three of them and for the men who would stand guard at the bottom of the shaft. 

The man-lift hole was only thirty-six inches in diameter and was equipped with a continuous heavy plastic belt stretched parallel to one side of the hole.  The belt was approximately twenty inches wide and was supported by two parallel steel channels anchored on the side of the hole every ten feet.  Two steel wires secured the entire length of both ends of the belt.  A small steel grate platform protruded out from the belt every ten feet.  These platforms ran the entire length of the belt and were to be used in case of a quick evacuation.  Each platform had bar grips and an upper steel cage designed to lean against while in motion.  Personnel were trained to quickly jump on the rising platform without stopping the lift.  This was done during evacuation training and all employees were required to participate.

“I can’t jump on that thing while it’s moving.” Roula said, her eyes wide with fear.

“Sure you can, nothing to it.  Just watch the others and do the same thing.”

Matt nodded at Roula and smiled. “You can do it,” he reassured her. If Spencer had confidence in her, then so did he.  He signaled to his men to climb on.  He then loaded the equipment and turned on the lift.

“Wait, wait, let me on before you start this contraption.”  Roula said to Matt, a pleading look in her eyes.

“You need to learn how to jump on,” Matt said. “Sorry, but there’s no time to train you at the bottom and we need to be ready for all contingencies.”

Spencer took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You can do this.”

“Fine, but if I break my legs, you’ll both be to blame,” she said, looking from Spencer to Matt.

With all the equipment loaded and his trusted crew ahead of him, Matt jumped on the moving lift.

“Okay, Roula, hold onto the grab bar as it comes by and just climb on the platform.”  Spencer spoke patiently as though guiding a child. “Here comes the bar . . . now grab it, step on quick. I’m right behind on the next platform.”  Matt and the crew clapped when she maneuvered herself onto the lift. She smiled and waved. Spencer quickly jumped on the next platform above her.  The way down seemed to take forever.  The lift went considerably slower than the main elevator and they needed to switch lifts at fifteen thousand feet.

“Oh, my God, how do I get off when we reach bottom?” Roula sounded panicked. She seemed to be yelling to anyone who would listen.

“Keep your eyes on the bottom floor markings,” Matt called to her.

“You’ll be warned at fifty feet to look for the wall markings on the side of the lift,” Spencer said.  “They’re painted in bright red.  When you’re a couple of feet from the bottom, jump off the lift onto the yellow markings.  It’s really simple.  See now why we wanted you to jump on?”

“Okay, okay, I’m ready.” She seemed to have had enough of the lift and wanted off at any cost. 

Soon the team was at the bottom of the second lift.  Matt looked at his watch.  It had taken less than forty minutes.  The main opening to the cave was totally covered with dirt as expected.  He immediately put the entire team to work.  They needed to open a new passage in a very short time.  Roula sat alone against the wall, her computer in her lap.  She had a look of resolve on her face. She seemed determined to unravel the strange translation. 

It took the crew two hours to remove enough dirt for them to pass through and enter the cave.  Matt followed Spencer and Roula inside the time capsule for the second time. Strange how the place felt familiar now.