The Atlantis Scrolls

Chapter 38

The stout sixty-something Otto Schmidt sat down at an antique bureau upstairs in the drawing room to examine the writings on the scrolls. Sam and Purdue engaged in a game of darts, challenging Alexandr to throw with his right arm, since the left-handed Russian was injured in his left shoulder. Always being up for a dare, the crazy Russian showed them up really well, even attempting a round with his sore arm.

Nina joined Otto a few minutes later. She was fascinated by his ability to read two of the three languages they found on the scrolls. He briefly told her about his studies and his affinity for languages and cultures, something that also intrigued Nina, before she decided on history as a specialty. Although she got on in Latin, the Austrian could also read Hebrew and Greek, which was a godsend. The last thing Nina wanted to do was risk their lives again by using some stranger to work with her relics. She was still convinced that the neo-Nazis who tried to kill them on the way to Wewelsburg were sent by the graphologist Rachel Clarke and she was grateful that they had someone within their company who could help with the legible parts of the obscure languages.

The thought of Rachel Clarke made Nina uneasy. If she was the one behind the bloody vehicle pursuit that day, she would know by now that her lackeys had been killed. The idea of her being in the next town over unsettled Nina even more. If she had to find out where they were, just north of Halkirk, they would have more trouble than they needed.

“According to the Hebrew sections here,” Otto pointed out to Nina, “and here, there is tell that Atlantis is… not was… is a vast land under the rule of ten kings.” He lit a cigarette and breathed in the billowing smoke from his filter before continuing. “From the tense in which they write, this might well have been written at the time Atlantis is reputed to have existed. Over here it mentions the location of the continent, by which on current maps its shores would have bordered, uh, let’s see… from Mexico and the Amazon River in South America,” he groaned through another exhale, his eyes focused on the antique Hebrew scripture, “all along the west coast of Europe and northern Africa.” He raised an eyebrow, looking impressed.

Nina had a similar expression. “That is where the Atlantic Ocean gets its name, I suppose. Jesus, it’s so big, how could everyone miss it all this time?” she jested, but her thoughts were sincere.

“It would seem so,” Otto agreed. “But, my dear Dr. Gould, you have to remember that it’s not about the circumference or the size, but the depths at which this land lies below the surface.”

“I suppose. But you’d think with the technology they have to breach space, they’d think to produce technology to dive to immense depths,” she scoffed.

“Preaching to the choir, lady,” Otto smiled. “I’ve been saying that for years.”

“What script is this one?” she asked him, gently unrolling another scroll that contained several entries mentioning Atlantis or some derivative thereof.

“This is Greek. Let me see,” he said, focusing on every word his scanning index finger traced. “Typical why the damn Nazi’ would have wanted to find Atlantis…”

“Why?”

“This text speaks of Sun worship being the religion of Atlanteans. Sun worship… sound familiar to you?”

“Oh, God, yes,” she sighed.

“This was probably written by an Athenian. They were at war with Atlanteans, refusing to give up their land to the conquests of Atlantis, and Athenians kicked their asses. Here, this part notes that the continent lay ‘West of the Pillars of Herakles,’” he added, crushing the butt of his smoke in the ashtray.

“And that would be?” Nina asked. “Wait, Pillars of Herakles was Gibraltar. The Strait of Gibraltar!”

“Oh, all right. I thought it would be in the Mediterranean somewhere. Close,” he replied, caressing the yellow parchment and nodding contemplatively. He was in awe of the antiquity he was privileged to learn from. “This is Egyptian papyrus, as you probably know,” Otto told Nina in a dreamy voice, like an old grandfather telling a child a fairy tale. Nina enjoyed his wisdom and his respect for history. “The oldest civilization stemming directly from the super-advanced Atlanteans was settled in Egypt. Now, if I were a lyrical and romantic soul,” he winked at Nina, “I would love to think this very scroll was written on by an actual Atlantean descendant.”

His plump face was full of wonder and Nina was no less in awe of the notion. The two shared a moment of silent bliss about the idea before both erupting in a chuckle.

“Now all we have to do is chart the geographical position and see if we can make history,” Purdue smiled. He stood watching them with a glass of single malt in his hand, listening to the resolute information from the Atlantis Scrolls that Himmler eventually had Werner killed for in 1946.

Maisy served a light dinner by request of the guests. While everyone sat down for a hearty meal by the hearth, Purdue disappeared for a while. Sam wondered what Purdue was hiding this time, leaving almost directly after the housekeeper disappeared out the back door.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Alexandr was telling Nina and Otto horror stories about his late twenties in Siberia and they looked completely fascinated by his stories.

Swallowing down his last bit of whisky, Sam slipped out to follow in Purdue’s steps to see what he was up to. Sam was fed-up with Purdue’s secrets, but what he saw when he followed him and Maisy to the guest house boiled his blood. It was time for Sam to put an end to Purdue’s reckless wagers, using Nina and Sam as pawns every time. From his pocket Sam drew out his cell phone and he set out doing what he did best — photographing deals.

When he got enough evidence he ran back up to the house. Sam now had some secrets of his own and, being sick of getting thrust in the middle of similarly wicked factions every time, he decided it was time for the tables to turn.