Familiar Mirage. Caroline BurnesЧитать онлайн книгу.
before she realized that, somehow, the marker was gone.
Borrowing John’s light, she searched the area until she found the alley. Once there, she led her crew to the doorway with the carved cat. Watching John’s face, she knew that her intuition was right on. His face registered the same excitement she felt, and he was already preparing the video camera.
Slowly, in the beam of two lights, the small crew entered the dark hallway, swimming carefully until they were suddenly in an open room that brought all of them to a stop.
“Holy Christmas,” Beth mouthed around her regulator as she stared at the incredible statues that lined two sides of the chamber. This place had to be a temple.
John pointed to a limestone altar at the front of the room. Behind it stood another statue—that of an incredibly beautiful woman. In the center of her forehead was a third eye.
“Con,” Beth mouthed.
“Con,” John said, removing his mouthpiece and mouthing the word so that air bubbles burst from his mouth and sped toward the surface.
“We’ve found her,” Beth said, even though she knew no one could possibly understand what she was saying.
OMAR HUNG BACK, the light in his hand, as he watched the divers enter the alley. Even though he’d gone back and cut the balloon marker free, Beth had been able to find the alley with little trouble. Now they were undoubtedly in the temple of Con.
Omar had never seen the temple, but he was aware that it existed. Until the scientists had found Herakleion on the bottom of the sea, the secret of Con’s temple had seemed safe for eternity.
Now, though, the trail to the lost City of Con was at stake. And Omar’s sacred vow was in danger of being broken.
He waited until the last of the research crew had disappeared in the watery temple before he swam down to join them. Whatever he did, he could not let Beth or any of the crew members suspect he was trying to hamper their efforts.
Slipping through the dark hallway, he stopped at the entrance to the temple sanctuary. For centuries this temple had been buried safely beneath the sea. He knew all about it from the stories that had been handed down to him through the ages. He knew that Beth had made an important discovery in her quest.
He swam slowly to the front of the chamber, stopping at the altar to look up into the face of a statue that could easily have been modeled after his mother. Con. The goddess who had unlocked the secrets of the third eye, the woman to whom he could directly trace his blood.
He stared at the statue, comparing it to the ones in the secret city. Very slowly he drifted to the statue and touched the cheek of the goddess. He’d never doubted the legends of his people, but now he had looked upon the goddess and her temple. He would have much to tell his followers when he returned to the desert.
Several of the scientists had gathered along one wall. He watched them, suddenly aware that Beth wasn’t in their number. He turned, searching the darkened chamber until he found her suspended in the water and staring at him.
He swallowed. Beth was perceptive. He’d given himself away by the way he touched the statue. For a second he thought of going to her, but then he swam over to see what had caught the interest of the other scientists.
The hieroglyphics on the wall were beautifully wrought, and Omar felt a stab of worry. They could easily be directions to the City of Con. He watched as John Gilmore began the process of filming the entire wall. John moved slowly over the symbols, giving the camera plenty of time to record. Carefully he began to work his way around the temple.
The other scientists fanned out, each one working on a statue or some aspect of the temple. Omar knew they had to work fast. They had only so much oxygen left in their tanks. Against all odds, Beth had come to Herakleion and discovered the secret that had been buried in the watery grave for more than two thousand years.
Omar knew that he was going to have to figure out a way to re-bury that secret, if he intended to keep his lost city safe from the prying eyes of the world.
OKAY MISS EXPLORER has been down there long enough. Omar has been back for another light, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the lady scientist. I’m beginning to get a little nervous.
Now my sassy, red-haired friend, Mauve, is squealing with delight. She’s got a death grip on one of those machines, and she’s jumping up and down with excitement. The skipper is looking at her like she’s crazy.
I think it’s safe to assume that Beth has hit pay dirt. She must have found the temple she was looking for. I’m delighted for her. Now maybe we can get off this creaking, lurching boat and get back to dry land.
Someone is transmitting images from the bottom to the equipment Mauve is operating. Now I can just slip up here and see what all the excitement is about. At first glance it looks like that old Lloyd Bridges show, Seahunt. Lots of watery images and… What’s that white thing? Looks like a woman.
A woman with an eye smack in the middle of her forehead.
Con.
So Beth has found her. This is exciting. Now here comes a bunch of images of what looks like drawings intended to say something. I’m no Egyptologist, but I’d call those things hieroglyphics. Someone is going to have a lot of fun trying to figure out what they say.
Hmm, there’s the image of Con with a white crown holding a handful of some wheatlike grain. And it would seem it’s Con again, but this time her crown is red. And she’s riding a bull. I don’t have a clue what it means, but I like a woman who can ride bulls.
It must have taken whoever carved these things in stone half a lifetime to do it. They’re very complex. I just wonder if anyone can really decipher what they mean.
I remember what Beth said earlier about doubt. She’s right. Doubt is the thing that can kill genius. Beth will eventually decipher the hieroglyphics, and when she does, we’re on our way into the desert.
We have two days for her to work on this. Now we’ll see exactly how good John Gilmore is at his work.
Look, the camera is on Omar. He’s staring at the hieroglyphics as if he could burn them into his memory—or else burn them off the stone wall. There’s something about our desert guide that bears watching. Close watching. And I’m just the cat for the job.
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