implications.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m kidding. How’s the picture coming through?”
“Darker than expected. I can hardly see.”
“Can’t you do something?”
“To view a finished tape, yes, but not while monitoring.”
“Oh,” Benson Hazelhurst said.
Before her, the red level indicator on her sound meter dipped and darted with the sounds of her father chuckling. All her machines, in fact, were working, but Melissa nonetheless sat amidst them feeling helpless. The workmen continued to stand guard on the ground above, all too happy to remain as far away from the find as possible. Only the two Kamir trusted the most and Kamir himself were down here with her, on the chance that the winch needed to be operated manually.
“How far down am I?” her father wanted to know.
A counter with an LED readout rigged to the winch was there to tell her. “Fifteen feet. My screen is just about black. What do you see?”
“Dead space. Wide open. Nothing to the sides or below I can make anything out of, except for the fact …”
Melissa’s heart skipped a beat. “What was that? You broke up.”
“No, I just stopped talking.” Her father’s rapid breathing filled her ears. This was taking far too great a strain on him. “Wanted to make sure of myself before I spoke. I’m sure now. This cavern is perfectly rectangular, as I suspected. Twenty feet by fifteen would be a fair estimation. The wall I’m up against has a hewn feel to it. Aren’t you getting any of this?”
Melissa slid closer to the screen and squinted. “Not enough,” she replied. “Did you say hewn?”
Again his rapid breathing preceded his sharp retort. “Where’s your textbook knowledge, Daughter? This must be some sort of overchamber carved out by those who years ago sought the same thing we do. We’re not the first ones who have been here.”
“Your theories …”
“Fits right into them. The actual doorway was discovered and barricaded thousands of years ago.”
There was a brief thud over the monitoring equipment as he at last struck bottom. Melissa caught a brief glimpse of the floor as her father gazed down at it, before his helmet-mounted camera came up again.
“Strange,” he said.
“What?” Melissa followed into her headpiece.
“I’m inspecting the walls. God, I wish you could see this more clearly. Everything’s been filed too clean, too neat. The walls are perfectly symmetrical, right down to the grooves.”
“Impossible!”
“Unless we’ve got our dating wrong.”
Melissa swallowed hard. “Any sign of Winchester’s killers?”
“Nothing. Wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“Think, Daughter. We know they didn’t leave the site in their vehicle, which means they could only have ventured down here. But since there’s no trace of them …”
“They must have found the passage to the next level down,” Melissa completed.
“No wonder you were the finest student I ever had.”
“I thought Winchester was.”
Benson Hazelhurst’s reply was to begin a careful, systematic check of the walls and floors in search of the entrance to the next level. Melissa followed his progress as best she could, finding herself increasingly anxious over the lack of a decent picture. Next time, she would have to come up with a way to create a wider beam of focused light. …
“Wait a minute,” Melissa heard her father say, “I found something.”
“What?”
“Piece of clothing. From a jacket, I think. Or a vest like mine.”
“One of Winchester’s killers?”
“I’m in the far southwest corner. Walls feel the same as they did on the other side.”
“Yes. That much I can see. If you could just—”
The picture blurred, faded, sharpened briefly again.
“I’m going at them with my file. The finish isn’t as gritty or chalky, and it feels damper. I’m going to try something.”
“What, Father? What are you going to try?”
“Hush, Daughter. I’m not so old that I can’t exert a little
“Sorry.”
“I’m kidding. How’s the picture coming through?”
“Darker than expected. I can hardly see.”
“Can’t you do something?”
“To view a finished tape, yes, but not while monitoring.”
“Oh,” Benson Hazelhurst said.
Before her, the red level indicator on her sound meter dipped and darted with the sounds of her father chuckling. All her machines, in fact, were working, but Melissa nonetheless sat amidst them feeling helpless. The workmen continued to stand guard on the ground above, all too happy to remain as far away from the find as possible. Only the two Kamir trusted the most and Kamir himself were down here with her, on the chance that the winch needed to be operated manually.
“How far down am I?” her father wanted to know.
A counter with an LED readout rigged to the winch was there to tell her. “Fifteen feet. My screen is just about black. What do you see?”
“Dead space. Wide open. Nothing to the sides or below I can make anything out of, except for the fact …”
Melissa’s heart skipped a beat. “What was that? You broke up.”
“No, I just stopped talking.” Her father’s rapid breathing filled her ears. This was taking far too great a strain on him. “Wanted to make sure of myself before I spoke. I’m sure now. This cavern is perfectly rectangular, as I suspected. Twenty feet by fifteen would be a fair estimation. The wall I’m up against has a hewn feel to it. Aren’t you getting any of this?”
Melissa slid closer to the screen and squinted. “Not enough,” she replied. “Did you say hewn?”
Again his rapid breathing preceded his sharp retort. “Where’s your textbook knowledge, Daughter? This must be some sort of overchamber carved out by those who years ago sought the same thing we do. We’re not the first ones who have been here.”
“Your theories …”
“Fits right into them. The actual doorway was discovered and barricaded thousands of years ago.”
There was a brief thud over the monitoring equipment as he at last struck bottom. Melissa caught a brief glimpse of the floor as her father gazed down at it, before his helmet-mounted camera came up again.
“Strange,” he said.
“What?” Melissa followed into her headpiece.
“I’m inspecting the walls. God, I wish you could see this more clearly. Everything’s been filed too clean, too neat. The walls are perfectly symmetrical, right down to the grooves.”
“Impossible!”
“Unless we’ve got our dating wrong.”
Melissa swallowed hard. “Any sign of Winchester’s killers?”
“Nothing. Wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“Think, Daughter. We know they didn’t leave the site in their vehicle, which means they could only have ventured down here. But since there’s no trace of them …”
“They must have found the passage to the next level down,” Melissa completed.
“No wonder you were the finest student I ever had.”
“I thought Winchester was.”
Benson Hazelhurst’s reply was to begin a careful, systematic check of the walls and floors in search of the entrance to the next level. Melissa followed his progress as best she could, finding herself increasingly anxious over the lack of a decent picture. Next time, she would have to come up with a way to create a wider beam of focused light. …
“Wait a minute,” Melissa heard her father say, “I found something.”
“What?”
“Piece of clothing. From a jacket, I think. Or a vest like mine.”
“One of Winchester’s killers?”
“I’m in the far southwest corner. Walls feel the same as they did on the other side.”
“Yes. That much I can see. If you could just—”
The picture blurred, faded, sharpened briefly again.
“I’m going at them with my file. The finish isn’t as gritty or chalky, and it feels damper. I’m going to try something.”
“What, Father? What are you going to try?”
“Hush, Daughter. I’m not so old that I can’t exert a little
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