The Genesis Plague (2010) by Michael Byrnes Read Free Book Online Page B

passed the coiled cable to Jam and joined them.
    ‘What do you make of that?’
    Hazo’s brow rumpled. After ten seconds, he shook his head. ‘I don’t know this … ah … but this rosette here?’ He pointed to a bracelet on the woman’s wrist. ‘This means she is like a god, or how you say … ?’ He fished for the word.
    ‘Divine?’ Jason surmised.
    ‘Yes, divinity. This says divinity.’
    ‘So she’s a goddess. Some kind of religious image.’
    ‘I think so. But not Christian. And Muslims would never allow these pictures. Very blasphemous.’
    Pointing to the swirls on the image, Jason asked, ‘Is this supposed to be a river?’
    ‘Um, yes. I’d agree with that.’
    ‘And what’s this in her hands?’
    Hazo shook his head. ‘A large fruit … um, no … maybe a container. These lines …’ Hazo said, tilting his head sideways to ascertain a meaning. ‘Maybe a light?’
    ‘Or something radiating from it.’
    Meat gave Jason a surprised look. ‘What, like magic?’
    He shrugged. ‘All right, let’s document everything. Meat, take some still shots, then keep the camera moving along this wall.’
    ‘Got it,’ Meat said.
    For the next ten minutes, Camel worked more cable through the pipe to push the camera deeper and deeper into the passage. The images on the left wall had become progressively disturbing. The swirls rose with each ‘frame’, and Hazo’s early guess that this portrayed rising flood waters proved correct, when later images showed bodies and animals being swept ‘downstream’ in elongated swirls.
    Most disturbing, however, was how the story’s depiction of the woman progressed. Her devotees from frame one had obviously had a change of heart, because the final frames showed men binding her, then leading her away with spears to the mountains. The final frame depicted the woman’s gruesome beheading.
    ‘She must’ve gotten too lippy with them,’ Meat joked as he saved the image as a pix file.
    Jason shook his head. ‘Not funny.’
    At the end of the storyboard, the wall was covered top to bottom in wedge-shaped hashes laid out in neat rows. Jason asked Hazo to take a gander at what it might mean.
    This time Hazo was quick to respond: ‘That looks like a very ancient alphabet. Maybe from Sumer.’
    ‘Sumer?’ Meat asked.
    ‘The southern region of ancient Iraq,’ Jason told him.
    ‘Yes,’ Hazo concurred. ‘Sumerian.’
    ‘So what is this place?’ Meat asked. ‘One of Saddam’s old bunkers? He liked all this ancient stuff, right? Thought he was the reincarnation of a Babylonian king or something …’
    ‘Correct,’ Hazo said. ‘King Nebuchadnezzar.’
    Jason shook his head. ‘We’ve seen plenty of bunkers. Nothing like this.’ He rubbed his neck while glancing over at what remained of the optical cable. ‘Let’s push the camera in as far as we can. See if we can spot anything else.’
    With the camera reoriented straight, the hewn passage walls abruptly transitioned to rough, uncut stone. Three metres deeper, the camera approached a split.
    ‘Which way?’ Meat asked Jason.
    ‘Left.’
    ‘Keep it moving … steady push,’ Meat called up to Camel. Working the joystick, he commanded the flex cable to bend along the turn.
    ‘How far in do you think we are right now?’ Jason asked.
    Meat looked over at what little flex cable remained. ‘Eighteen, twenty metres maybe.’
    The light stripped the shadows off the tunnel’s crenulated outcroppings.
    ‘Wait …’ Meat said to Jason, pressing an index finger against the headphone speaker. ‘I hear something.’ He punched a button on the keyboard and the audio feed played over the unit’s built-in speakers. Sliding the headphones off, he raised the volume some more and listened intently. Jason and Hazo crowded in beside him.
    First came the distinct chatter of voices, the dialect unmistakably Arabic. Two, maybe three different men, Jason guessed. The exchange was forceful, argumentative. To him, this was an