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“The water,” Xavier said, looking from it to his father, “does it flow into the Nile?”

“Some of it,” his father said. “Some to a big aqueduct. I believe it is also channelled off to other areas.”

“Channelled off?” Xavier said.

“This is like an ancient plumbing system,” Phoebe called over from a section of wall with small tunnels carved into it. “This isn’t just a naturally occurring water supply. It’s been fashioned to provide water elsewhere.”

Dr. Dark nodded.

“I followed them,” he said. “All those tunnels that they made. See?”

He led them over to where Phoebe stood. The arched tunnels, next to each other, were almost big enough to stand up in—and were clearly man-made. The water running into them was ankle-deep and clear.

“See?”

He shone his flashlight at one particular tunnel, staring at it. At first there didn’t seem to be anything special about it until they looked at a marking above the arch. It was an engraving, thirteen in Roman numerals.

Dr. Dark went into the tunnel.

“The Roman Empire conquered Ancient Egypt,” Phoebe said, following in a crouch behind Xavier who was behind his father. The others walked in single file through the tunnel. “They must have built these tunnels to carry the water, just like the aqueducts they built in all their territories.”

“The Romans just fixed it up,” Dr. Dark said over his shoulder. “It’s older than Rome.”

Xavier knew not to question his father’s knowledge—he must have looked at the construction and made his assessment based on that. He knew Ancient Egypt better than most.

“How far are we going?” Xavier asked after they’d travelled for twenty minutes through the single, straight tunnel, not a maze in sight.

“Just up here,” Dr. Dark said. “A little further.”

SAM

Sam’s arms screamed in agony as he clung to the axe. He tried to pull himself up further, but his arms were too stiff from the cold. Gingerly, he prised one hand from the axe, using the free hand to cling to the ground that was now a wall of ice.

I can’t hold on much longer. How can I climb up?

There was a thunderous crack below him and suddenly the wall of ice started tipping back, righting itself horizontal once more.

The ice must have split in half!

With renewed strength, Sam crouched in, ready to sprint. As soon as the ground came back to a lower angle, he sprang forward, flinging himself over to reach safer ground. Just before him, he saw the edge of the broken land, the chasm widening as the ice pulled away from the mainland.

Sam threw himself across, not daring to glance down, and tumbled head over heels as he cleared the gap and landed on solid earth. But he did not stop there, picking himself up to run at a quick jog, putting distance between him and the falling ice sheet.

Man!

Finally he risked stopping, doubling over with his hands on his knees, sucking in breath as his heart rate struggled to slow. He looked out to the sea behind him, already swallowing up the broken ice.

“Wrong … place … to make camp.”

Sam straightened up to get his bearings, catching sight of the mountains to the east. He took a deep breath and set off, running into the ever-increasing wind.

Sam was starting to really worry.

He only had one ration pack left. He remembered the survival briefing from Jabari on the flight there.

I’d need like a lot, a million calories to survive in the elements. A billion calories if I was doing physical work, like traversing the frozen ground
.

His stomach rumbled. He packed up the little chemical heater that had thawed out a thermos of water, to which he’d added coffee and sweetened milk, had a gulp, leaving it about half full, then tucked the warm flask under his snowsuit at the front to keep his chest warm. He packed away his equipment and strapped the pack on tight over his shoulders.

Then there was the weather. But it was clear now and the wind had died down.

Too quiet
.

Sunlight hit the mountains and fingers of clouds stretched over them, as though reaching for him. The sun was low to the west. It would still be hours before it set. And it was only gone for a few hours at the most at this time of year.

“C’mon, Sam, you can make it another hour,” he said, goading himself on as he trudged, his boots biting into the ice, the sun warming his face. “Another hour, you’ll find … something. I hope.”

The hour to make camp never came.

Sam stopped to listen.

There was a noise, in the distance.

He turned around and around, looking for its source.

Am I really hearing that?

Sounds like a … machine? A truck?

The wind had picked up. It brought more clouds with it, and worse, the ice crystals from the frozen ground blasted against his face. He had the Stealth Suit inside his snowsuit and had it formed as a full-face balaclava, his goggles protecting his eyes. But the ice still stung. And the wind still blew, stronger than ever, so that for every five steps forward he felt he was being swept a step back. His legs burned and his stomach grumbled.

But the noise …

Sam crouched into a ball, his back to the wind, and listened.

Is it just the wind?

The sky darkened.

WHOOSH!

A shape blasted overhead—large and warm.

Sam stood and waved. It was a jet. It passed over him, without ever seeing him. But as he watched, he tripped and fell. His head smashed into the ground as the plane passed out of sight.

SAM’S NIGHTMARE

“You won’t burn me,” I say.

“No?”

“You’ve taken so many shots and done nothing but singe my Stealth Suit. You wouldn’t kill me.”

“No, I wouldn’t. But you’re afraid of fire. And you
should
be.”

“But you won’t kill me.”

“No. But there are things worse than death.”

“Who were you?” I ask. “Before you put that suit on—who were you?”

“Sam, you’re about to learn why thirteen is an unlucky number—”

SAM

Sam’s watch alarm bleeped and he came to with a start.

Oh no!

He looked at the little screen.

00:00:00

Countdown over.

But no storm
.

Maybe they were wrong about the weather?
Maybe it passed around us, or dissipated?

He looked around. The day seemed fine. Clear skies as far as he could see in all directions.

The mountains to the east … are disappearing!

What the …?

A wall of white was moving across the mountains and rushing over the ice. It was like all the snow in the world was being drawn into that storm.

Sam jumped up and ran.

The Chilean station, that’s the closest. Find it, Sam, find it!

ALEX

Alex looked down from the top of the pyramid.

It’s not often you get to climb one of these. OK, well, unless you’re Sam or Xavier
.

No guards to tell me off here, though
.

The solid chamber around them was easily the size of the biggest sporting stadium he’d ever seen.

A pyramid built inside a mountain … but where’s my Gear? In my dream it was like I had already found it
.

Have I changed too much of the lead-up so that meeting Sam like that will never happen?

“It’s through here!” Ahmed called.

Alex followed the bright lights to where Hans stood with Dr. Kader.

At the opening to the pyramid, Alex paused. Hans and Ahmed looked at him.

“What is it?” Hans asked.

“This—this place,” Alex said, looking around him at the door. “It’s familiar. It’s the dream that I just told you about. This is it.”

“Good!” Hans said. “Now, the Gear—do you remember where the Gear is?”

He closed his eyes, concentrating … standing right there was the strangest kind of déjà vu and Alex could feel the recollection of his dream flickering tantalizingly just out of reach of his mind.

“Anything?” Ahmed said.

“Shhh,” Alex said, not opening his eyes. “I need to let my mind drift back to that part of the dream.”

“Take all the time you need,” Hans said. “I’ve waited this long, I can wait a few minutes longer.”

Yeah, but you’re going to be waiting longer than that
.

No way I’m just handing my Gear over to you. No matter how much fun we’ve had on your boat
.

Alex sat down, leaning against the cool stones of the pyramid, trying to let his mind flow naturally.

If I force it, I won’t see it
.

He could hear Ahmed shifting from foot to foot but Hans was silent …
like a snake
.

What happens when I find it?

Stop it, Alex! Concentrate on the Gear first
.

He refocused his mind, picturing himself holding a Gear … minutes ticked by.

“It was hidden behind a wall,” Alex said suddenly, leaping up and startling both Ahmed and Hans.

They walked down the stairs and then down the pyramid corridor to a sheer rock wall at the very back. “It’s there, I think. No, I’m sure,” Alex said. “But we’ll need to dig it out.”

“Good enough for me,” Hans replied. “And I have men for that.” As they came back outside the pyramid, Hans snapped his fingers and his men came running.

“Are these … hieroglyphics?” Alex asked, pointing to carvings as they walked around the cavern, waiting for Hans’ men to break through the wall. “Even within the room here, not just the pyramid?”

“Yes,” Ahmed said. “A different form of them.”

“Egyptian, though?”

“Some similarities, but no, not Egyptian. These are earlier.”

“Earlier …” Alex’s awe at the sight was interrupted by the sound of a rumbling explosion. He turned back to the pyramid in time to see Hans’ men standing next to a cloud of dust.

“They’re through!” Hans said, clapping his hands together.

“Yes,” Ahmed said. “Though I’m not sure that they
should
go through.”

“Why?” Alex asked.

Ahmed looked at Alex. “Some doors are meant to remain closed.”