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Authors: Carl Ashmore

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BOOK: Time Hunters and the Spear of Fate, The
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Chapter 9

At Last Atlantis

 

 

Time seemed to stop.

Becky gaped at Joe. She could tell
from his expression he was thinking the same as her. Of all the unexplained
mysteries in history, Atlantis was perhaps the most enigmatic, the most
beguiling of them all.

‘So Atlantis did exist?’ Joe asked.

Uncle Percy nodded. ‘It seems so.’

‘Then what’re we waiting for?’ Joe
asked, his eyeballs threatening to pop from his head. ‘Let’s jump back in the
time machine and go and see it.’

‘It’s not as simple as that, Joe,’
Uncle Percy chuckled.  ‘The Atlantic Ocean is forty one million square miles
and covers approximately twenty percent of the earth’s surface. I wouldn’t have
a clue where to start looking for it.’

‘But you’re sure it existed?’ Becky
asked.

‘Imran Musa was convinced of it,’
Uncle Percy said simply. ‘And he convinced me. You see, although the Omega
Effect, for some reason, prevented Imran from ever seeing the Sonchis Scroll
for himself, he did interview Larac at some length. With a transcript of this
interview, I began some investigations of my own.’

‘What did you find out?’ Becky asked.

Uncle Percy’s face ignited like a
child’s. ‘Enough to make me believe in the existence of Atlantis.’

‘And what does the Spear have to do
with all of this?’ Joe asked.

‘According to Larac’s interpretation
of The Sonchis Scroll,’ Uncle Percy replied, ‘the Spear of Fate lay at the very
heart of everything. Not only did the Atlanteans worship it as a deific symbol,
but they believed it acted as a kind of battery that fed the island itself.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Becky said.

‘Larac said the Spear’s energy gave
Atlantis its own bionetwork, its own ecosystem, its own unique, indigenous
wildlife and vegetation. It also claimed that Atlanteans were …’ He hesitated.
‘Different from normal humans, stronger, brighter …’ His face darkened. ‘A
master race, if you will. In short, The Sonchis Scroll said the Spear of Fate
made Atlantis like nowhere else on Earth…’

Becky made an almost undetectable
squeak as she tried to process Uncle Percy’s words.

Joe, on the other hand, didn’t look convinced
at all. ‘It all sounds a bit Wacko Jacko to me.’

Uncle Percy looked baffled. ‘And by
that you mean?’

‘Spuzzified, nutso, out there with
the fishes.’

Becky could see Uncle Percy hadn’t a
clue what Joe was getting at. ‘Farfetched,’ she clarified.

Uncle Percy smiled, but his face
didn’t radiate happiness. If anything, he looked sadder than ever.  ‘If
you’d have said all this to me six months ago, I would’ve agreed
wholeheartedly. Now, I don’t know what to think...’

‘So what did happen to Atlantis?’ Joe
asked.

‘Who knows for certain,’ Uncle Percy
replied. ‘But the Scroll claimed the Spear was stolen and smuggled away from
the island, its absence causing a cataclysmic event which resulted in the
island being destroyed forever.’

‘So what happened to the Spear? Joe
asked impatiently.

‘Again, no one knows for sure. There
have been rumours of a magical Spear appearing at various junctures in history,
but it’s all just conjecture. Certainly, my investigations found nothing that
could turn these ‘
rumours
’ into any tangible reality. Very soon, I
realised I’d hit something of a brick wall. It was only when I visited Miriam
Potts this afternoon that things began to piece themselves together.’

‘Why?’ Becky asked. ‘What things?’

‘I need to go to GITT HQ to check everyone’s
returned safely, but meet me in one hour in Bowen Library and I’ll show you
something that makes Miriam Potts just about the bravest person I’ve ever met.’

‘Why? What did she do?’ Becky asked.

Uncle Percy’s face fell into shadow
from the strip light above.  ‘You’ll see…’ He appeared to choose his next
words very carefully. ‘However, there’s something I need you to do for me -
whatever happens, you mustn’t let Maria know you’re going to the library, not
at this time of night. As a matter of fact, it would be better if you don’t
mention the library at all this Christmas. The last thing I want is her
snooping around in there, and now she and Barbie are such good chums, I would
be careful what you say to her, too.’

‘Why?’ Becky asked, confused.

‘Because I’m storing certain items
in there that would make Maria very upset. Very upset, indeed.’

He paused for a moment.

‘Let’s be honest, if she knew what
I’d got in there the shock would probably kill her…’

*

Goose bumps the size of eggs dotted
Becky’s body, as she and Joe walked soundlessly along the path to the Hall,
snow crunching beneath their feet. All around was oil-black now, but for the
kitchen light, which glowed a deep, welcoming orange.

‘Crazy night, eh?’ Joe said.

But Becky didn’t hear him. Her mind
was spinning in all directions. Images of the last hour whizzed in and out of
her head like bees in a hive: the revulsion she felt at seeing Drake’s
Hologram; the Megalodon attack; the Spear of Fate; and the astonishing
revelation about Atlantis.

It was all too much to take in.

There was no sign of Maria or Jacob
as they passed through the kitchen and into the passageway that led to the
Entrance Hall.

Before she knew it, Becky was lying
on her bed, clutching her pillow to her chest and thinking about what Miriam
Potts might have done to earn such a commendation from Uncle Percy.

It was 9.30 when she and Joe
gathered at the library door. As always, the door to Bowen Hall library was
locked.

As a far-off clock sounded the half
hour, Becky heard a
snapping
sound from the other side of the door,
which she recognised as a portravella. A moment later, a key turned in the
lock, and the door opened to reveal Uncle Percy, a relieved smile on his face.

‘You’ll be pleased to know everyone is
safe, and we’ve suffered no significant casualties – well, apart from
Ermintrude Abbot’s glass eye which popped into a bowl of punch in the uproar,
but she’s got plenty of others. Apparently, it happens all the time.’ Ushering
Becky and Joe into the room, he swiftly locked the door again, before
unclipping the portravella from his wrist and sliding it into his pocket.

Entering the library, Becky was
surprised by the state it was in. She expected it to be coated in dust and
smell of old socks, but this looked like a bombsite. At least a dozen
whiteboards were scattered haphazardly across the vast floor, each one covered
with writing, complex mathematical equations, Egyptian hieroglyphics, and other
strange symbols she didn’t recognize; most notably, one board seemed to be
taken up with multiple versions of the same pictogram: a giant wheel with a
jet-black sun in its center. The central circular table was buckling under the
weight of a tower of leather-bound books, old and new, and every inch of floor
space was covered in flattened parchments and sandstone tablets with unusual
markings etched into them.

‘Nice to see you’re keeping the
place clean,’ Becky quipped.

Uncle Percy nodded absentmindedly as
he pulled up three chairs and set them at the table. ‘As you can see I’ve been
rather busy.’

‘Is this all to do with the Spear of
Fate?’ Joe asked, scanning the room.

‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Ever
since Imran told me about the Sonchis Scroll, I’ve been researching prominent
spears and staves in history, legend and mythology. It turns out there are more
examples that you’d think: Shiva’s Trishula; The staff of Moses; Aaron’s Rod;
The Holy Lance; even Satan himself is often depicted with a pitchfork. Anyway,
my investigations have taken me to numerous timelines, countries and cultures,
from Ancient Sumer, to the Neo-Babylonian empire, the Great library of
Alexandria and, finally, even a short but fruitful visit to the Hofburg museum
in Vienna in 1926.’

‘And what did you find out?’ Becky
asked keenly.

‘Well, quite a bit,’ Uncle Percy
said. ‘And very little …’ He gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘The most intriguing
legend is that it ended up in Egypt many thousands of years ago, hidden in an
underground temple.’

Becky felt the hair stand on the
back of her neck.

‘An underground temple?’ Joe gasped.

‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But the
trail for any lost temple went cold pretty quickly.’

‘So how does Miriam Potts fit into
all of this?’ Becky asked.

Uncle Percy shuffled uncomfortably
on his chair. ‘Well,
as it turns out,
certain other parties throughout history must’ve heard of The Spear of
Fate and were keen to find it, too. Miriam travelled back in time and, at great
personal risk, managed to retrieve some communiqué that has proved most helpful
for our search. In fact, it brings a few strands of this story together, along
with some personal elements I shall explain later.’

‘What type of communiqué?’ Becky
asked.

‘She managed to acquire a letter. A
very important letter.’

‘Who from?’ Joe asked.

Uncle Percy stood up, approached one
of the bookshelves and pulled out a book. He tapped the cover three times and
the book’s title illuminated red. At once, a bookshelf groaned open to reveal a
wall safe. He walked over to it and typed nine numbers onto a keypad. With a
click, the safe door opened and he pulled out a large envelope. Returning to
the table, he opened the envelope and extracted a sheet of dark cream paper.
‘This is one of the things in this room I’d hate for Maria to discover. It’s
written in German but I think the letterhead says it all.’

He passed the letter to Becky.

The moment she took hold of it,
Becky felt dread sweep through her. She couldn’t read German but it didn’t
matter - the emblem on the top left and the name beneath was enough to tell her
all she needed to know. The emblem was a black eagle, its wings outstretched,
its head turned sharply to the right. It was holding an oak wreath with an
instantly recognizable symbol in the middle: a swastika. However, it was the
name embossed in gold and written in uppercase letters that sent shockwaves
through her.

 

ADOLF HITLER

 

Chapter 10

Tibet or not Tibet

 

 

‘And here’s the translation,’ Uncle
Percy said, producing a second sheet of paper and passing it over. Joe moved to
Becky’s left and together they began to read.

 

 
                          
Berlin. 13
th
January 1939
    ADOLF HITLER

 

Reichsführer-SS
Heinrich Himmler

 

I have just received your
distressing news and am most upset by the recent theft of the Gadeirus Tablet. How
could this have been allowed to happen? Need I repeat the Reich has committed
substantial sums to finance your SS Ahnenerbe unit, not to mention this latest
expedition to Tibet? As far as I’m concerned, if the Gadeirus Tablet is lost
forever this has been a futile affair, for which I demand accountability. I was
given your assurance that Erik Müller was the man for the Tibetan venture. If
so, how can he have been so fatuous as to be deceived by this traitor, Werner
Von Hammelburg? Or is it your judgment that is in question?

Either way, I want Von Hammelburg
found and I want him dealt with using the most severe means possible. I cannot
stress how much I wish the Gadeirus Tablet to be recovered. The future of the
Reich could well depend on Müller’s success on this matter.  If he is
unable or too inept to succeed, I shall be compelled to dispatch Otto Kruger to
Tibet. He is certainly a man that will get results.

ADOLF HITLER

 

Becky stared wide-eyed at Joe. She found
that her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and quickly put the letter down to
stop Joe noticing.

‘Otto Kruger!’ Joe blustered. ‘Don’t
tell me Emerson Drake is working with bloody Hitler?’

Uncle Percy shook his head. ‘I
wouldn’t put it past him, but I don’t think so. Remember, Kruger was Hitler’s
personal bodyguard for many years before he disappeared in 1940. This letter
was written a year before that. No, I believe Kruger’s presence in all of this
is purely coincidental.’

Becky’s gaze returned to the letter.
‘What’s the Gadeirus Tablet?’

‘I can’t be completely sure,’ Uncle
Percy replied. ‘But Imran Musa did say it was mentioned in the Sonchis Scroll.
He described it as a block of silver marble, about the size of a phone book,
which was inscribed with a coded message.’

Becky was getting excited now. ‘What
kind of message?’

‘A message that, once deciphered,
would lead to the location of the Spear of Fate.’

Joe gave an excited gasp. ‘Like one
of Israel Hands’ markers?’

‘I suppose,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Of
course, other than its inclusion in the Scroll I’ve not found any other
evidence that it actually existed.’

‘So what’s this about Tibet?’ Joe
asked. ‘What were the Nazis doing there?’

‘Well, the Nazis involvement in
Tibet is well documented,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘And the 1938 expedition, led by
respected zoologist Ernst Schäfer was a very public one indeed. In a nutshell,
many high-ranking Nazis believed the Aryan race to have its genesis in a lost
civilization, one thought to be closely associated with Tibet. I’m sure you can
guess which one.’

‘Atlantis?’ Becky submitted.

Uncle Percy nodded slowly. ‘Do you
remember I said that Atlanteans were thought to be super-human. It makes sense
that a group as supremely arrogant as the Nazis would believe themselves to be
related. Anyway, as far as the world was concerned, Schäfer’s expedition was a
scientific one; they were in Tibet to study the people,
climate,
geography, and culture. However, judging by the letter, it seems that Erik
Müller’s
mission
was something else entirely,
something much more disturbing.’

‘To find the Gadeirus Tablet,’ Becky
replied in a whisper.

‘Indeed,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘You
see, what is also public knowledge is that Hitler was obsessed with an ancient
relic called The Spear of Destiny – a powerful object that supposedly made its
possessor invincible. Now, many believed that spear to be a Christian relic
known as the Holy Lance, but judging by his interest in the Gadeirus Tablet,
perhaps they were mistaken. It certainly doesn’t take a great leap to think
that Hitler’s Spear and The Spear of Fate are one and the same, does it?’

All fell silent.

It took quite a few seconds before
Joe asked, ‘So who’s this Von Hamburger bloke?’

‘Werner Von Hammelburg was a very
courageous man,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘A member of an anti-Nazi resistance
group called the Red Orchestra, who managed to function within the SS as a
double agent. Somehow, he managed to get himself attached to the Tibetan
expedition.’

‘And he nicked the Gadeirus Tablet?’
Joe asked.

‘It appears so.’

‘Then we should call him Von
Hamburglar?’ Joe said, managing a grin.

‘Let’s not, shall we?’ Uncle Percy
replied. 

‘So what happened to it?’ Becky
asked.

‘It disappeared. Hammelburg
disappeared. And neither has been heard of since.’

‘So we’re stuffed then,’ Joe said
with a frown.

The hint of a smile rounded Uncle
Percy’s mouth. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘What do you mean?’ Joe asked.

Uncle Percy took to his feet and
began to pace the room. ‘Because we’ve got a head start,’ he said, eyes
shining. ‘We have information that no human from any time period knows.’

‘What do you mean?’ Becky asked
quickly.

‘Do you remember on our journey to
the Red Caves, you asked me about which mythological creatures existed and
which didn’t?’

Becky glanced at Joe, suddenly
intrigued.

‘Yes,’ they replied simultaneously.

‘Do you recall I mentioned
Gimbledok?’

Joe’s eyes enlarged. ‘The Yeti! The
one you nursed back to health from a snow leopard attack. The one who spoke in
some old language.’

‘Ancient Nepalese, yes. Well, it
just so happens that Nepal is a neighboring country to Tibet.’

Becky looked confused. ‘So?’

‘Do you remember I said that Yetis
liked to collect things?’

‘Yeah … so?’ Joe asked.

‘Did Gimbledok have the Gadeirus
Tablet?’ Becky asked excitedly.

‘Not to my knowledge,’ Uncle Percy
replied. ‘But he did show me a cap he’d acquired, one that belonged to a dying
man he’d found in the mountains. Anyway, Gimbledok couldn’t save the man’s
life, but he did lay him and his belongings to rest in a mountain cave. As a
mark of respect, he took his cap. Anyway, when I saw it I was surprised to see
it had the skull and crossbones symbol sewn onto the crown.’

Becky and Joe looked bewildered.

‘He was a pirate?’ Joe asked weakly.

Uncle Percy chuckled half-heartedly.
‘No, Joe. As well as being associated with pirates, the skull and crossbones
was the insignia of the
SS
. It’s the Death’s Head symbol.’

Becky shivered as she said the
following words. ‘The dead man … it was Werner Von Hammelburg?’

‘I think so,’ Uncle Percy said.

‘So what are you saying?’ Joe asked.

‘I’m saying that if Gimbledok can
show us where he buried Von Hammelburg, it’s possible we’ll also find the
Gadeirus Tablet.’

Joe’s face flushed cherry-red. ‘You’re
saying we’re going to visit the Yetis?’

Uncle Percy smiled. ‘That’s exactly
what I’m saying …’

*

An hour later, Becky was sitting in
her pyjamas at her dressing table, brushing her hair, and listening to the wind
batter the hall’s ramparts.

But hair and weather were the last
things on her mind. She had been at Bowen Hall for less than twenty-four hours
and so much had happened. Furthermore, within hours, she, Joe and Uncle Percy
were travelling to the Himalayas in 1950s Nepal to visit a Yeti named Gimbledok.
She tried to remember all she’d been told about the Yetis, about their twenty
strong community, but she’d been so surprised by their existence in the first
place she hadn’t really listened to the details and could hardly remember a
thing.

She placed the hairbrush on the
dressing table, and moved over to the bed, throwing back the duvet and climbing
in. For what seemed like an eternity she tossed and turned restlessly,
thrashing the pillow for all it was worth, and clamping her eyes shut in the hope
that sleep would find her.

But it didn’t.

Instead, she found herself on a
footpath on a narrow country lane, flanked on both sides by unusually large
trees. Rain speckled her face. She pulled her scarf around her neck, and
scanned the tar-black sky to see the gathering rainclouds, which shrouded the
moon and stars from view.

At that moment, a warm hand cupped
hers. She looked up to see her mother, looking taller than usual, smiling down
at her.

‘C’mon, Becky. Let’s go home and -’

Her words were cut short by a
terrifying
ROARRRR
.

The monster had returned.

Clasping her mother’s hand tightly,
a terrified Becky began to run; faster and faster she accelerated, heart
pounding wildly. She stole a glance back and saw two giant silvery orbs emerge
from the blackness.

The monster charged, its hateful
eyes growing larger all the time. In that moment, Becky knew they were dead.

Unless….

Tearing her hand away, she shoved
her mother with all her might and watched as she fell hard, banging her head on
the curb with a nasty
crack
.

Becky knew she couldn’t worry about
her now. Looking round, she spied a broken tree branch, pointed and long.
Extending her hand, her gaze locked on it and she felt a strange watery
sensation brush the top of her head. She focused intently on the branch as the
feeling spread into her eyes. Incredibly, as if on a cord, the branch took to
the air and soared into her open palm.

The branch had become a sword.

Becky turned sharply, and raised the
sword high, ready to strike, but it was too late. The monster was upon her.

With a high-pitched
screech
,
it pounced.

And …

Her eyes snapped open. Bolting
upright, she felt overcome with relief as, piece-by-piece, bedroom furniture
emerged through the gloom. She was safe.

It was just a dream.

Becky was about to dab her forehead
dry when she felt something between her fingers. Looking down, an icy chill
scaled her spine. Her gaze flicked over to the dressing table to see its empty
tabletop. Her eyes returned to the object in her hand: her hairbrush.

It had happened again.

 

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