The Anomaly(37)

“Don’t be a twat, Nolan. They have to get us out.”

“Of course. But it’s going to be twenty-four hours, minimum, thirty-six—possibly more. And never mind the food or batteries. We can live without those. It won’t be fun, but we can do it. It’s dehydration that will mess us up. How much water do you have left?”

He made a face. “Half a bottle.”

“I’m about the same. I thought we would be out of here soon. And we’re physically depleted already from making two big climbs, one of them with the sun on our backs.”

“You’re making me feel very thirsty, Nolan.”

“This would be my point. Don’t suppose you snuck a bottle of vodka into your backpack?”

“I wish.”

For a moment we watched the others, who stood in a little pool of light in the center of the room. Even from here you could see how little water there was in the pile they’d made. “We may have no choice but to sit it out,” I said. “But we’ve got to take a look down these side passages, just in case.”

“Looking for what? Another shaft?”

“That, or could be one of the passages winds back out toward the canyon wall. Or something. We’re going to have a lot of time to kill, Ken. Be dumb not to check if there’s another way out. And keeping busy is probably a good idea.”

“How are we for cigarettes? And yeah, that’s a hint.”

I lit one for each of us. “Well under a pack.”

“Christ. Run out of those and we’re really going to see a downturn in the situation. People could get hurt. By me.”

He thought for a moment.

“You’re right,” he said. “Let’s go have a look around.”





From the files of Nolan Moore:





THE HIDDEN CHAMBER UNDER THE GREAT PYRAMID OF CHEOPS





Chapter

22



After long and thoughtful consideration, Molly declined the opportunity to come looking down pitch-dark passages with us. I think her exact words were “No.”

Pierre managed to say he wanted to remain in the big room without looking like he was doing so for her sake, continuing a long run of failing to be annoying in a way that meant I was close to having to recategorize him as “actually not annoying after all.” Gemma wanted to come with us. We each took a mouthful of water, left the other two holding position in the middle of the room and—pretty much at random—headed toward the passage at the ten o’clock position in the room.

“So what did Kincaid say about these passages?” Ken said.

“A bunch of stuff,” I said. “But to be honest, he lost all credibility for me the moment he failed to mention the great big rolling stone ball. We’re better off investigating using our own eyes than relying on made-up shit.”

“So how do we know there’s not more of those things up these passages?” Gemma asked, looking dubiously into the darkness beyond the doorway.

“We don’t. But in everything we’ve seen so far there’s been an elegance of design. Simplicity. That ball has already blocked the main way out of here. Why duplicate, when it means thousands more man-hours’ work?”

“That’s very now-centric,” she said. “These guys didn’t think like the Apple design department. Why build the pyramids that high, when half as high would do? Because they could. Because Pharaoh told them to. Because they felt like it.”

This was sufficiently in line with things I’d thought while climbing the shaft that I couldn’t come up with a reply.

“She’s right,” Ken agreed. “Plus, if you’re saying this is the only entrance they had to block, you’re also saying there’s no other way out. So why risk it?”

“Whose side are you on?”

“The side of not getting killed. For future reference, that’s the side I’m always on.”

“Me too,” I said. “And look. Feather’s not a bad climber. Better than me, definitely. But not like Pierre or Molly. If she hurries or loses her hold and slips and falls down that shaft, then we’re here forever. And we won’t even know it’s happened until we’ve already run out of water. Yes, going up this passage is a risk. But so is not going up it.”

I was holding the light. I stepped right up to the entrance to the passage. “We’ll do it this way. I’ll go in. You stay back. Nothing happens, you follow.”

“Nolan, you tosser—we don’t want you killed, either.”

“I’m immortal,” I said. “Didn’t I mention that?”

And I stepped into the passage.



Nothing happened.

I stood very still for a moment, then moved back into the main room, and out of the way. We all listened carefully for grinding or rolling sounds. There were none.

“One step doesn’t prove anything,” Ken said.

“I know.” I’d also known what taking that single step would do, however—halve the tension by breaking down a mental barrier. “But that’s how we’ll do it. In sections. Walk a little way up, using the light to check the floor for anything that looks weird. Then a little farther. And so on.”