“Amazing that it would survive so close to the water,” Sam said.
“We’ve found fragments of the foundation that are still above mean high-tide levels.”
They peered into the active test pit, where one of the students pointed out a small flat section of marble tiling.
“Looks like you’ve reached the basement,” Sophie remarked.
“Yes, I’m afraid there may not be much left to excavate.”
“What’s the diver up to?”
“He’s a marine engineer helping reconstruct the layout of the original port facilities. He seems to think there may be a subterranean chamber to our customs house and is poking around for an underwater access.”
Sophie walked over to the edge of the embankment and stared down at the diver. He was working in ten feet of water almost directly beneath her, manhandling a water jet against the hard-packed bottom. Without noticing the audience above him, the diver broke off his probing and began to ascend. He held the nozzle of the water jet upright, which sprayed a fountain of water skyward when he broke the surface. Standing right in its path, Sophie was doused with a blasting spray of salt water before she could jump out of the way.
“You damn fool!” she cursed, wiping the salt water out of her eyes with her dripping sleeves.
Realizing what he had done, the diver quickly spun the nozzle seaward, then swam to the edge of the embankment and shut off the compressor. Turning to his victim, he gazed at the wet clothes clinging tightly to her body, then spat out his regulator.
“Behold, a goddess from the sea?” he said with a wide smile.
Sophie shook her head and turned her back on him, growing angrier at the sight of Sam laughing out loud. Haasis suppressed his own mirth and came to her rescue.
“Sophie, there’s a towel in my tent. Come, let’s get you dried off.”
The diver popped his regulator back into his mouth and disappeared under the surface as Sophie followed Haasis up the trail. They reached the professor’s tent, where she rubbed her hair and clothes dry as best she could. The warm breeze would dry her clothes quickly, but she shivered at the sudden evaporative cooling effect on her damp skin.
“May I see the artifacts you have excavated?” she asked.
“Certainly. They’re right next door.”
The professor led her to a large peaked tent that was open at one end. Inside were the artifacts recovered from the warehouse site, mostly potsherds and tile fragments, strewn about a long linen-covered table. The student Stephanie was busy with a camera and notebook, carefully numbering and recording each piece before storing them in thin plastic boxes. Haasis ignored the artifacts and led Sophie to a small table at the back of the tent. A single sealed box was on the table, which Haasis handled cautiously as he removed the lid.
“I wish we had found more,” he said wistfully, standing aside to let Sophie peer into the box.
Inside was an elongated patch of brown material, pressed between two plates of glass. Sophie immediately recognized it as papyrus, a common writing surface in the Middle East up to the end of the first millennium. The sample was worn and frayed, yet clean rows of handwritten symbols were plainly visible down most of the document’s length.
“It appears to be a port facility record of some sort. I can make out references to a large quantity of grain and a herd of livestock being off-loaded at the wharf,” Haasis said. “We’ll learn more after laboratory analysis, but I think it might be a customs bill for a merchant vessel delivering goods from Alexandria.”
“It’s a splendid find,” Sophie complimented. “With luck, it will enhance the information gathered from the warehouse site.”
Haasis laughed. “My luck, it will prove entirely contradictory.”
They both turned as a tall figure entered the tent carrying a large plastic bin. Sophie saw it was the diver, still clad in a wet suit, his loose dark hair streaked with water. Still angered over her dousing, she began to make a caustic remark but felt her voice wither when she was met by a bright smile and a pair of deep green eyes that bored right through her.
“Dirk, there you are,” Haasis said. “May I introduce the lovely but damp Sophie Elkin of the Israel Antiquities Authority. Sophie, this is Dirk Pitt, Jr., on loan from the U.S. National Underwater and Marine Agency.”
The son and namesake of the agency head, Dirk walked over and set down the bin. Still flashing a disarming smile, he warmly shook hands with Sophie. She didn’t offer a protest when he was slow to release his grip.
“My apologies for the shower, I didn’t realize you were standing there.”
“No trouble, I’m nearly dry now.” She was inwardly startled at how her anger had suddenly been displaced by an odd tingle. She absently patted her hair to prove her point.
“I hope you’ll allow me the honor of buying you dinner tonight to make amends.”
Dirk’s forward proposal caught her off guard, and she stumbled to answer, muttering something unintelligible. Somewhere a voice inside screamed at her for losing her normally unflappable manner. Haasis thankfully intervened to save the awkward moment.
“Dirk, what’s in the box?” he asked, eyeing it curiously.
“Just a few goodies from the subterranean chamber.”
Haasis’s mouth dropped. “It truly exists?”
Dirk nodded.
“What chamber?” Sophie asked.
“While I was surveying the remains of the inshore breakwater, I found a small underwater opening near Keith’s test pits. I could only squeeze my arm in, but I could feel my hand break the water’s surface. That’s why I was using the water jet, to blast a larger hole through the mud and concretions.”
“How large is the cavity?” Haasis asked excitedly.
“It’s not much bigger than a crawl space, about six feet deep. But most of it is above water. I’ll go out on a limb and speculate that it was part of a cellar used for storage or records archives.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Sophie inquired.
Dirk dried off the plastic bin he had carried in and carefully pulled off the watertight lid. Inside were several ceramic boxes, rectangular in shape and colored a reddish orange. He pulled one out and handed it to Sophie.
“Hopefully you can decipher its contents,” he said. “They didn’t teach me ancient texts in marine engineering school.”
Sophie set the box on a table and gently pried off the lid. Inside were a half dozen tightly wound rolls of material.
“They’re papyrus rolls,” she said in a shocked voice.
Haasis could no longer contain himself, slipping on a pair of white gloves and squeezing in alongside Sophie.
“Let me take a look,” he said, pulling one of the rolls out and slowly unrolling it across the tabletop. An odd but orderly script filled the page, handwritten with a bold stroke.
“It appears to be Coptic Greek,” Sophie said, looking over the professor’s shoulder. An ancient text developed in Egypt using the Greek alphabet, Coptic script was a common written language in the eastern Mediterranean during the time of Roman rule.
“Indeed,” he confirmed. “It appears to be an annual record from the harbormaster, for port fees and dockage. These are the names of vessels, with their lading,” he said, running a gloved finger down a pair of columns.
“Isn’t that a reference to the Emperor?” Sophie asked, pointing to a block at the top.
“Yes,” Haasis replied, trying to interpret the heading. “It’s titled a report of Caesarea port fees, or something to that effect. Written on behalf of Emperor Marcus Maxentius.”
“If my memory serves, Maxentius was a contemporary of Constantine.”
“Maxentius ruled in the west and Constantine in the east, before the latter consolidated power.”
“So this must date to the early fourth century.”
Haasis nodded with a glimmer in his eye, then looked at the other scrolls. “These may offer us an amazing glimpse into life in Judaea under Roman rule.”
“Ought to provide fodder for a good thesis or two from your students,” Dirk said, as he emptied the bin of three additional ceramic boxes. Tucking the empty bin under his arm, he turned and headed out of the tent.
“Dirk, you just uncovered a magnificent historical find,” Haasis said with wonder. “Where on earth are you
