George looked at the pile of rubble, and instead of replying started to move some of the smaller stones and fragments of breezeblock from the entrance of the Library. It looked a hopeless task.
“George,” Zahra was about to tell him as much, but she was interrupted by a burst of Arabic from Tariq.
Then Tariq was at George’s side, helping him lift a beam that had once been part of the tiled roof. Leena and Manu also joined in, and before long the four of them were fervently clearing rubble in search of survivors.
Zahra took up Tariq’s place guarding the American, who looked on, unmoved.
Chapter 70
Mallus ordered the display off, and the satellite image of Tell el-Amarna vanished. A virtual aquarium appeared in its place, making it look like his office was underwater in some tropical paradise; colourful corals and exotic fish shimmered perfectly under the sunlight that shone down from the virtual surface above.
He gave another command and the cityscape that had soothed his thoughts before Patterson and his men had launched their assault returned.
The assault had failed.
A plane soared silently through the evening sky. He’d seen it all before. He almost whispered at the screen and it switched off completely, blending seamlessly into the wall.
The assault has failed, he thought to himself.
He had no need to launch Plan B, as it was already in motion. On the contrary, while one word from him would call off the vans, no such communication was needed to carry on as planned. Such an act would potentially leave a trail back to him, and for Plan B to work, what was about to happen had to look like it came from outside the United States of America.
“Has it ever really been Plan B?” he mumbled to himself as he shuffled in his seat nervously. He didn’t think so. Deep down inside, he had wanted to see Plan B in action and now, while it was being carried out, he felt a surge of excitement. Another, conflicting part of his mind cried megalomaniac, which he chose to ignore. “This was always meant to be,” he soothed himself. “The Book of Xynutians showed me the way, it’s no coincidence that it fell into my lap!” he started to raise his voice. “What would be the point of me having all of this if it didn’t have a purpose?”
He stood up and started pacing around his desk. The search for answers to the ancient riddles and a possible way of avoiding the wrath of Aniquilus had certainly been fascinating, but ultimately it had done little more than confirm what he already knew.
“I am Aniquilus,” his face lit up as he said the words out loud for the first time, as if some internal flood barrier had finally been breached. Years of pent up emotion started to pour out. “I am Aniquilus,” he laughed. “I am Aniquilus,” he roared, sweeping his arms over his desk sending paper and pen and telephone flying. “And I will rain down fire on this world!”
He barked orders at the computer and the screen lit up, filling with video feeds and streams of text.
For him, secretly having complete control of the country’s defence satellites had more than one advantage. Not only could you spy on whatever you wanted to, such as a covert operation in Egypt, you could also make the Department of Defence see things that simply weren’t there, like unauthorised fighter jets entering US airspace, or a build-up of foreign troops on a disputed border.
You could even make it look like three nuclear Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles had launched from deep inside Asia towards densely populated targets within the United States of America.
And while the powers that be scrambled to verify and counter the imaginary attack, three very real unmarked utility vans with nuclear bombs inside them would arrive unchallenged in Los Angeles, Chicago and New York.
And so the Apocalypse would begin.
He rounded the desk and made for the door. As he slammed it behind him the lights automatically shut off, and the screen went dark.
Chapter 71
“Wait, no!” Gail exclaimed as Ben approached one of the ancient wooden shelves inside the Library, intent on upending it to examine what lay beneath.
He paused briefly, the time to turn and offer a brief apology; it was more for Gail than for the archaeological world as a whole. Taking hold of the middle shelf, he tentatively rocked it from side to side, to get a feel for its weight and structural integrity. After thousands of years, it was surprisingly solid, offering little give.
Applying more force, he managed to obtain a groan from the thick timber. He stepped back and took in the room as a whole, before turning to the rest of the group.
“What do you think? If we lean on it together it will budge quite easily.”
“And then topple into all the other shelves like dominos!” Gail cried. “Thousands of years perfectly preserved, then destroyed in seconds by us. We have to look for another way.”
“And die in here, for the sake of a few bookcases?” Ben said. “I understand how hard this must be for you, Gail, but if there’s another way out of this place, we have to find it very soon.”
Patterson approached the shelves and gave them a quick nudge. “Bear in mind that even if we do find another way out, the air inside whatever tunnel or room we uncover may be toxic,” he shook his head soberly. “It’ll quickly mix with the little air we have left, and we may simply pass out and die within a few minutes.”
There was a long silence as they digested what he had said. There was no denying the fact that air trapped for thousands of years wasn’t going to be fresh, and there was a strong chance that it would be quite toxic. The air inside the Library was finite, and wouldn’t last them for long if the area it had to fill suddenly became a lot larger.
Eventually it was Walker who broke the silence.
“Not wanting to use up any of your precious air by talking,” he began patronisingly. “But tipping the bookcases over will make a lot of mess, and it won’t uncover your hidden door.”
They turned to him in surprise.
“Oh, and how would you know?” Patterson said sarcastically.
Walker got to his feet, waving away their protests and Ben’s raised gun barrel with the back of his hand. He sauntered over to the circular entrance to the Library.
“You made me climb through a tunnel carved into solid rock to get in here,” he began. “The Ancient Egyptians make that?” Gail shook her head. “No, I guessed not. You lot cut your way in because you couldn’t find the door in the first place. Did you find any bodies in here?” Gail didn’t need to shake her head, she could already see where he was going with his argument. “Not even a dead fly. So the entrance to this damn place remains to be found. But it ain’t just the entrance is it? It’s the exit too.” He turned on his heel and waved his arms around him. “Millions of years ago –”
“Thousands,” Gail cut in.
“Whatever! It don’t matter if it was yesterday, personally, I don’t give a damn. Thousands of years ago some guy closed the door on this place for the last time. Are you suggesting,” he pointed at Ben, “that when he closed it, he somehow managed to build a bookshelf on top of it?” he flapped his arms and jutted his jaw out at him. “And you can stop pointing my own gun at me for a start. You think I’m gonna try and stop you escaping from here? This is my funeral too.”
Ben looked back at him, but was reluctant to lower the pistol. Somehow, he didn’t believe Walker was harmless at all, even if they were in the same boat.
“He’s right, of course,” Gail said matter-of-factly. “If there’s a door, it won’t be under the shelves. They were stacked with parchments and scrolls when we came in here. Even if they did somehow slide into place when the Egyptians left, it would have been difficult not to drop something on the floor.”
“So where is it then?” Ben said desperately. “There’s nothing else in here! No gaps or grooves in the wall we can prise open, the only other feature in the whole place is the plinth.”