Zara asked, “Where are we, Sam?”
Sam said, “At a guess, I’d say we’re in the fabled Golden City of the Kingdom of the Sands — the treasure of the Garamante Empire.”
“That’s great,” Tom said. “But where’s the gold?”
“There was never really any gold! The term represented the wealth of knowledge found inside. This was where the great ones came to discuss the future. Think of a place filled with the great people of their time. Their versions of people like, Michelangelo, Plato, Da Vinci, and Einstein. This was a place for the greats to go. And Nostradamus! That was why it was called the Golden City!” Sam stepped toward the amphitheater. “What do you think this place was used for?”
“It was a meeting place.” Zara spoke confidently. For a person who two days ago had shattered any belief that the Garamantes had ever made it this far south, inside the Sahara, she now possessed an extraordinary knowledge about the ancient civilization. “A symbol of their technological might. Think Rome in its heyday. Florence. Hell, it could be an older version of Washington D.C. when you look at it. Perhaps this is where their leaders came to debate important matters before government.”
Tom laughed. “I would have loved to hear their views on climate change.”
Zara smiled. “From what we know about the Garamantes, they didn’t care about their environment. Instead they utilized heavy slave labor to acquire water for irrigation and crop development. They made their environment what they needed it to be to survive. When the water ran out, they became extinct.”
“Sound familiar?” Sam asked.
She turned to face him. “What?”
“You said Nostradamus told you the human race was about to become extinct and now you’re telling me these people became extinct due to climate change?”
She shook her head. “No. The climate didn’t change. The Garamantians drew their water from ancient tables of fossil water, accumulated over approximately forty million years. It was only a matter of time before the water tables were exhausted and their civilization’s need exceeded their ability to produce water.”
“Yeah — what I said. An economy based on technological changes that in turn changed the climate in an unsustainable way. Ecology 101. They failed — and we are following their example.”
“Talking about tunnels. There’s a bunch of them heading off this way,” Tom said. “I’m going to check it out. We still need to find a way to the surface.”
Sam nodded. They would need to split up and work quickly to find a way to the surface — if such a way still existed. He gazed around the vast chamber. It could have fit a football field inside. The place looked like the main meeting place on a bad Sci-Fi set. A city buried inside an asteroid or a moon. There were broken, and misshaped rooms throughout. Little remained to suggest the purpose of such rooms, but he imagined a thriving market place. Fresh food stalls, exotic food from places far away, brothels, carpenters, engineers, people who practiced medicine, they would have all been there.
He stopped walking. Grinned. “This place wasn’t just a meeting place. This was their city. This was grand central station! Look. What if the reason archeologists have only discovered primitive villages on the surface was because those were the stragglers or even another race altogether. What if the Garamantians didn’t just build a three thousand mile network of irrigation channels — what if they built three thousand miles of networked transport?”
Zara tilted her head to the left; her mind exploring the possibilities. “It would be much easier to send food, water, and people by boat beneath the harsh desert than above.”
Sam nodded as he imagined a world where food and other supplies were transported along the ancient irrigation channels, along with fresh water. He walked through the small buildings — structures that once housed the city’s elite. They were simple by modern day standards of luxury, but at the time, would have been the height of decadence. Like the Romans, the Garamantians appeared to serve themselves the best.
He said, “What if these people and the remains of the old Berber civilization located on the surface were the same?”
“But you just said you thought they were different?”
“What if they were once the same civilization, but as the water dried up things started to change.”
Zara asked, “What sort of changes?”
Sam said, “The same sort which always take place when food becomes scarce — the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.”
“They abandoned their slaves, and general population, so their thinkers and movers could continue to live in decadence. While one part of their society died off nearly fourteen hundred years ago, the other one thrived for another thousand years!”
Tom stepped into the room. Even in the dull blue light, his face appeared flushed. He was breathing hard as though he’d been running. His brown eyes were wide and filled with adrenaline.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
Tom paused. Swallowed hard. “I’ve found something. I think you’re both going to want to see.”
Zara turned to face him. “What did you find?”
“There’s a room here you’re both going to want to see, right now!”
“Sure, what is it? What did you see?” Zara persisted.
Tom looked at her. Shook his head, and said, “I believe it’s a message, for you.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
The entrance to the strange room stood out among the rest of the building structures beneath the dome for two reasons. The first one surprised Zara immensely, and the second sent chills down her spine.
First, unlike every other structure they’d seen, this one had a door. It was made of solid brass, with intricate images of horse drawn chariots, etched into the metal. None of the other structures had doors, and she had seen no other sign of brass displayed throughout the dome. Secondly, and more disturbingly, were the words written on the door. She stared at them, willing them to spell another word or different name. There was nothing she could do about it though. The truth was uncompromising.
The words spelled, Zara Delacroix.
She tried to push the door open. It was heavy. The large hinges fought against the centuries without movement. Sam and Tom put all their weight into it and finally, the door creaked open.
Inside was a discreet and unremarkable room, not too dissimilar to those they’d already seen, except that it had a sarcophagus in the center of the room. The walls were carved out of solid limestone, like the rest of the buildings. Nothing was written on the walls. A pedestal could be seen, stepped inside a small alcove. Water dripped from an opening in the ceiling and filled the pedestal. A hole in the floor, worn out through the ages, captured the overflow, and then drained into a hidden opening below. Otherwise, the room was empty.
Zara's eyes returned to the sarcophagus. It was the centerpiece of the room and if someone wanted her to find something, she guessed it was most likely going to be inside. Zara walked around the sarcophagus. It was most likely the final resting place of one of the great kings of the sand. She stopped on the other side.
Her mouth opened to speak, but words didn’t come out.