“That's the spirit, Miss Earle,” Purdue smiled as he and Virgil sank the long, insulated snake of copper wiring and rubber down the shaft. At the front end the device actually sported two large steel spikes made of the same material as roof antennas, coincidentally mimicking the fangs of a viper. At the other end, though, it was connected to a machine Purdue had converted from a generator engine and a high voltage transformer. He briefly explained to the laymen, “Think of it as a small scale Tesla coil. I’m using this transformer to essentially cause a deliberately erroneous conversion to generate a pulse or a discharge through this conductor,” he ran his finger along the body of his snake charmer device.
“Ooh, I get it!” Joanne smiled. “Like a Taser for snakes.”
“Purdue, is this safe for us?” Nina asked.
“The voltage is not powerful enough to hurt us, mostly because we’re wearing rubber boots and are insulated from the actual current,” he assured the worried historian. “Don't worry, as long as we’re not rolling inside their muddy walls where the prongs will be inserted, we should be fine.”
Virgil chuckled heartily at Purdue's sense of humor. “This is the most fun I’ve had since I started my fishing charter business, believe me!”
With the generator started, the party descended one by one down the tunnel. Virgil went first to feed the head of the snake charmer into the tunnel. Then Nina and Joanne followed with the gear bags, and finally Purdue struggled down the slippery dark duct of muck with his leg far from healed. He was not supposed to put any weight on it for several weeks, but with his considerably less weighty frame he saw it fit to take the chance.
Fresh batteries in their flashlights were a blessing this time round and made it easier for Nina to navigate the enclosed darkness without succumbing to terror. However, Joanne's fear was to remain real for longer. She helped Purdue to his feet when he slipped into the septic tank. Then she switched on Sam's handheld camera just as he had instructed her and started filming the journey.
Purdue chose to remain absent, staying out of the frame at all times, just until the media was updated with news of his discovery. As a matter of fact, being abducted and left virtually walled in to die was the perfect screen for David Purdue to resurface without being blamed for any dishonesty about his demise. For all the world knew, the poor man was shot, then seized and imprisoned by his kidnappers and presumed dead, not of his own doing. Karsten and Beck did him a favor, absolving him of any fraudulent practice by essentially making him a victim of attempted murder. It was a perfect alibi; one the authorities could not now refute.
Perhaps this was why Special Agent Patrick Smith had been so forthcoming when Purdue called him to make the deal that allowed him his passage to Nina. It seemed, Purdue figured, that all bad things do happen for a reason. Sometimes when terrible things befall people it seems unfair — until later, when that very unsavory incident is proved to have resolved issues that would have otherwise been left in a Gordian knot. And Purdue's flight from the Black Sun while creeping about like a cockroach for the rest of his life presented just such a Gordian knot.
If there were one thing Purdue had learned from Alexander the Great, it was indeed that fortune favored the bold; simply going ahead and severing the whole thing recklessly was sometimes the only way to solve the Gordian knot.
“Okay, stop!” Virgil called from the front of the group, holding the head of the device up until Purdue could instruct him on its positioning.
“Shall we put on our gloves, Jo?” Nina asked rhetorically and gave Joanne her pair. The two women had the atrocious task of retrieving the three or four specimens for Sam's antivenin after Purdue had electrocuted the serpents. Purdue and Virgil steadied the prongs and stabbed into the wet, muddy wall.
They could all hear the snakes come alive with aggression instantly, and Purdue rushed to flick the switch that regulated the current. Nina and Joanne ran for the front of the head as the jolt turned from a hum to a clap that stunned the animals, killing some from the overwhelming surge of electricity that pumped through their tiny hearts, erupting inside their pericardia.
“Go, go, go!” Nina screamed, pulling Joanne along. With their gloves and flashlights they collected three living specimens, still writhing weakly in their grasp. Joanne understandably cringed, wailing like a banshee as the pulled the scaly monsters from the mud. “Oh God! Oh my God, I can't deal with this!” she kept moaning in a low volume murmur until they had all they needed.
“Right,” Nina said, “take my container, please. I am going in.”
“In where?” Joanne shrieked.
But Nina's petite body was already hastily progressing down the tunnel as her voice faintly echoed, “No time like the present! Before the live ones realize we killed their friends!”
Joanne stood dumbfounded, holding the two jars of motionless adders while Purdue passed her to follow Nina. Virgil waited, holding the buzzing electrical device above the floor surface, just in case.
Purdue was closely behind Nina.
“Do you see the letterbox yet?” he wheezed, hardly noticing the grimy sludge covering his white crown. After his time in the oubliette he was no longer bothered with such things.
“On the right, but I can’t reach it, Purdue. You’re taller than me,” she grunted, rolling away from him to pass. With their bodies in the mud, close together, Purdue was tempted to remind her of a time when they’d slept this closely, but it was hardly the time and he proceeded up the tunnel. There was a slit at the top, a letterbox, aptly named so, for behind it is where the blueprint showed the Olympias Letter to be.
He slid his fingers through the slit, feeling the torment of his still weak and injured body as he stretched. Trying it every way he could, he found that it served as a handle, not an entrance.
“Nina, it’s like a car door handle. Be prepared for what lies behind it,” he warned in rapid exhales before pulling it downward. Purdue fell back as the wall caved in like the flap of a cardboard box. As it moved, a tremendous tremor ensued throughout the ground, shaking the muddy deposits from the massive rusted panels. In turn, the horde of snakes fell from the walls, thankfully static, and collected on the floor of the tunnel.
“Oh Jesus, don't let them wake up!” Nina screamed over the chaos as the panel opened completely. “Guys! You alright?”
“I'm coming to see!” Joanne shouted over the din. The boat captain said nothing as he squirmed into the bed of snakes, but he was grinning like a shark. Purdue took off his backpack and pulled out industrial grade glow sticks to light up the chamber under the Place of No Happening. He stood in awe, smiling, apparently having forgotten about the serpent problem.
Chapter 33 — The Way of Alexander the Great
Upon the opposite wall, engraved in the solid gold it was made from, Nina filmed the seal of the great conqueror in high definition, gasping as she traced every detail of the engraved face and the script around the edges.
“Linear-B,” Nina smiled.
“What?” Purdue asked.
“It is etched in Linear-B: the ancient script of the Mycenaean Greek… the original Greek. My God, Purdue, do you realize that this form of writing predates the Greek alphabet by hundreds of years!” she reported, and her information fell to the ear of the recording camera, which only added to the genuine feel of the footage Sam could produce for his documentary.
“Do you know what it says?” Joanne asked, glowing in awe.