The Hunt For Atlantis

going to do?”

“I’m going to have a look around. If there are any entrances that might potentially lead into caves, they shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Laura arched an eyebrow, a flash of amusement in her intense green eyes. “Anything to get out of pitching the tents, huh?”

“Hey, that’s what we’re paying them for!” He turned to the man sitting alone on a rock nearby. “What about you, Jack? Coming?”

The third American member of the group peered up at them from inside the hood of his parka. “Give me a chance to get my breath back, Henry! I think I’ll wait here, get some coffee once the water’s boiled.”

“Can’t shake your caffeine habit even in Tibet, huh?” Husband and wife mockingly rolled their eyes at each other as they walked up the slope, leaving Jack on his own. “All those years he keeps telling us we’re mad for searching for Atlantis, then we finally come up with a solid lead and suddenly he practically begs to come along… and when we’re right on the doorstep, he decides to take a coffee break!” said Henry.

After a few minutes Henry paused, staring at the rock face. “Something?” Laura asked.

“These strata…” he said, pointing. Countless eons before, the immense forces causing the Himalayas to rise up where the Indian and Asian tectonic plates collided had also warped the rocks themselves, twisting the layers so they ran almost vertically instead of horizontally.

“What about them?”

“If you moved these stones,” Henry said, pointing to a pile of rubble, “I think you’d have an entrance.”

Laura saw a slice of absolute darkness within the folded strata. “Big enough to get into?”

“Let’s find out!” He pulled at the topmost rock. Snow and loose pebbles dropped from it as he threw it aside. The dark hole beyond grew deeper. “Give me a hand.”

“Oh, so you’ll pay the locals to put up tents, but when it comes to moving heavy rocks, you drag in your wife…”

“There must have been a landslip. This is just the top of the entrance.” He pulled more stones aside, Laura helping. “Use your flashlight, see if you can see how far back it goes.”

Laura took off her pack and pulled out a Maglite, shining it into the hole. “I can’t see the back.” She paused, then shouted, “Echo!” A faint reflection of her voice came from within the dark chamber. Henry raised an eyebrow. “Heh. Sorry.”

“It’s big in there, anyway,” he said. “Nearly as big as your mouth.” Laura gently slapped the back of his head. “I think if we move this rock here, we might be able to squeeze in.”

“You mean I might be able to squeeze in.”

“Well of course! Ladies first.”

“Stupid chivalry,” Laura complained jokingly. They both gripped the offending rock, then braced their feet and pulled. For a moment nothing happened, then with a grinding rasp it burst free. The opening was now about three feet high and just over a foot at its widest, tapering to nothing at the top.

“Think you’ll fit?” Henry asked.

Laura reached through the hole with one arm and felt around inside. “It widens out. I should be okay once I get through.” She leaned closer and aimed the flashlight downwards. “You were right about the landslip. It’s quite steep.”

“I’ll rope you up,” said Henry, removing his own pack. “Any problems, I can pull you back out.”

After the rope was attached to Laura’s climbing harness, she tied her hair into a ponytail and inched through the opening, feet first. Once inside, she cautiously stood, feeling the loose surface shift beneath her feet.

“What do you see?” asked Henry.

“Just rocks so far.” Her eyes adjusting to the gloom, Laura switched on the Maglite again. “There’s a flatter floor at the bottom. Looks like…” She raised the light again. The beam fell on rock walls-then nothing but blackness. “There’s a passageway back here, quite wide, and I’ve got no idea how far back it goes. A long way.” Excitement rose in her voice. “I think it’s man-made!”

“Can you get down?”

“I’ll try.” She took an experimental step, both hands raised for balance. Small pieces of debris skittered down the pile. “It’s kind of loose, I might have to-”

With a crunch, a large stone broke loose beneath her right foot. Caught by surprise, she fell on her back and slid helplessly down the slope. The flashlight clattered away ahead of her.

“Laura! Laura!”

“I’m okay! I just slipped.” She got to her feet. Her thick clothes had saved her from a bruising experience.

“Do you want me to pull you back up?”

“No, I’m fine. Might as well look around now that I’m down here.” She bent to pick up the tough metal flashlight…

And realized she was not alone.

For a moment she froze, more in shock than in fear. Then curiosity took over, and she warily swept the beam over her surroundings.

“Honey?” she called up to Henry.

“Yeah?”

“You remember that secret Nazi expedition that went to Tibet and nobody ever heard from them again?”

“Gee, you know, I forgot all about it,” he shouted back with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Why?”

Triumph filled Laura’s voice. “I think I just found them.”

There were five bodies in the cave. It quickly became clear they hadn’t been killed by the rock fall that had blocked the entrance; from the almost mummified appearance of the corpses, the most likely cause of death was exposure, the cold of the Himalayas preserving and desiccating the victims. While the other expedition members investigated the rest of the cave, the Wildes turned their attention to its occupants.

“The weather must have deteriorated,” mused Henry, squatting to examine the bodies in the glow of a lantern, “so they came in here for shelter… and never came out.”

“Freezing to death, not the way I want to go,” Laura grimaced.

One of the Tibetan guides, Sonam, called to them from down the passageway. “Professor Wilde! There’s something here!”

Leaving the bodies, Henry and Laura went deeper into the cavern. As Laura had thought, the passage was clearly artificial, carved out of the rock. Some thirty feet ahead, the lights of the other expedition members illuminated what lay at the end.

It was a temple-or a tomb.

Jack was already examining what appeared to be an altar at the center of the rectangular chamber. “This isn’t Tibetan,” he announced as the Wildes entered. “These inscriptions… they’re Glozel, or a variation.”

“Glozel?” said Henry, surprise and delight mingling in his voice. “I always said that was a strong contender to be the Atlantean language!”

“It’s a long way from home,” Laura noted.

She shone her flashlight over the walls. Carved columns ran from floor to ceiling, the style angular, almost aggressive in its clean functionality. The Nazis would be right at home, she thought. Albert Speer could have devised the architecture.

Between the columns were bas-reliefs, representations of human figures. Henry moved closer to the largest one. While the design of the relief was unfamiliar, as forcefully stylized as the rest of the chamber, he knew instantly whom it was meant to be.

“Poseidon…” he whispered.

Laura joined him. “My God, it is Poseidon.” The image of the god differed from the traditional Greek interpretation, but there was no mistaking the trident held in his right hand.

“Well,” said Jack, “Mr. Frost will certainly be pleased that the expedition was a success…”