Sam stared at the photographs. Two of them were of a single pyramid surrounded by sand, as though the desert was about to swallow it whole. The third photograph depicted some sort of dark shape. The pyramid looked Egyptian, but there was something strange about it — something creepy or sinister about the way it surrounded the people in the drawing, almost like a snake stalking its prey, who were little more than stick figures. It weaved and crept through their legs as though it were alive.
He turned over the fourth picture. It depicted a three-mast ship covered with sand. He handed the picture back to the Publican. “Any idea what ship this is?”
The man shrugged. “It could be any of the four thousand or more unfortunate vessels that have found themselves caught between the Atlantic and the giant sand dunes of the Namib Desert.”
Sam glanced at the pyramid. It could have been any ancient pyramid built by the Egyptians. He turned his focus back to the image of the strange smoke creature. “Any idea what this is?”
The manager looked at it. “Looks like smoke to me. Why?”
“I don’t know. It seems strange this would be here. Whoever drew these images placed a lot of emphases on the smoke. I thought maybe it meant something particular to the region?”
“Like what?”
“Something religiously symbolic, perhaps?” Sam suggested. “A local fear or aversion to fire?”
The manager shrugged. “It could have. The original inhabitants of the region were often superstitious. They believed a whole range of things about different spiritual things. Maybe whoever drew this one believed the smoke was related to their ancestors or something. Who knows? I sure as hell don’t.”
Sam flicked over the back of the photo. In simple handwriting, written in pencil, were the words — Found painted on a rock at the bottom of the lake. Depth 410 feet. At the bottom of the photo was the date of discovery, which was five days ago.
“You said that Dietrich took a private hunter out on tour into the Kalahari Desert, didn’t you?”
“Sure. But he wasn’t a hunter, that’s for sure. He was looking for something, but I can tell you now he wasn’t looking for game. Why do you ask?”
“I wonder if there was any way Dietrich’s client knew about these photographs?”
“It’s possible, I put them up on our website just for fun three days ago — but I doubt it. If he was interested in the photographs he didn’t ask about them, or anything about a pyramid if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No. That’s all right. It was just a thought. You don’t think there’s an ancient pyramid buried out there in the Kalahari Desert, do you?”
Now the man laughed properly. “No. That I can tell you confidently would be impossible. I mean, think about it, for all the journeys that have taken place throughout that harsh and unreasonable environment, no one has ever mentioned finding a pyramid.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Sam handed the photographs back to the publican. “I don’t suppose you know the cave in which these photos were taken?”
“Of course I do. The same place they all come here to dive!”
“A lot of people come to the Namibian desert to dive?” Sam asked, surprised.
“Yeah, it’s not our largest tourism drawing card, but it’s up there. We even have a few SCUBA diving schools in town that focus on advanced cave diving courses.”
“You don’t say?” Sam nodded. “And what exactly do they all come here to dive?”
The publican grinned. “That would be the Dragon’s Breath Cave.”
Chapter Twenty-Four — Dragon’s Breath Cave
The Kalahari Desert is one of the driest places on the planet. The wettest areas received a measly average of 20 inches of rain a year, while the driest enjoyed less than 4 inches. But Africa’s Kalahari Desert used to be a much wetter place. Around 10,000 years ago, Lake Makgadikgadi covered most of the region before it went dry, leaving behind the massive sand dunes we see today. The region’s unique dryness belies that beneath the Kalahari is home to Dragon’s Breath Cave, the largest underground non-subglacial lake in the world.
One would expect that such a lake would have been possible through distant rainfalls and ancient rivers that seeped through the sands. But such speculation was wrong. Geologists believe the entire region once housed a prehistoric inland sea. As the sea dried up all life that populated the region died off, eventually forming a bed of dolomite. Throughout the millions of years since, the water would eventually seep through the dolomite, which in turn would act as a roof for the underground cave. The surface water would eventually dissipate due to the change in temperature over the aeons, leaving the underground waters undisturbed for millions of years.
Sam hired equipment and a guide from the local technical and cave diving school to help him and Tom locate the old cave drawings. The guide drove the old Land Rover Defender — one of three in the large dive party who were heading out today — south via the C42 highway into the Otjozondjupa Region, before turning east onto the private property of the Hariseb farm. After 45 minutes the small convoy pulled off the blacktop and onto the dirt road of the Hariseb farm.
The Defender entered a shallow valley and followed the narrow pock-marked trail made of a mixture of loose soil and sand that ran through the middle of a shallow valley. Sharp rocks edged the trail and small scrub lined the valley wall. The Defender fought its way through the rough terrain until a sheer wall of jagged rocks made navigation by vehicle impossible.
Their guide, Malcom, pulled up the Defender to a stop. “We’re here, gentlemen.”
Sam stepped out of the Defender. His feet dug into the soil, which was a burnt red and ran all the way out to the horizon. The empty sky was a rich cerulean blue. The crisp air was starting to warm up. He glanced at the landscape. Jagged rocks lined the valley wall, along with small scrub and a series of sharp uninviting cacti. There was no sign of any caves, let alone the entrance to the world’s largest known subterranean lake.
He looked at the guide who was opening the back door of the four-wheel drive. “How far is the entrance from here?”
“Not far.” The guide pointed to the west. “About a five minute walk toward that ridge.”
“Great,” Sam said.
“Before you get too excited,” Malcom said, smiling as though he was taking pleasure in relating the next piece of information, “just remember, the dive party will need to move nearly half a ton of equipment by hand to the entrance.”
Sam and Tom nodded in unison. “Nice day for it.”
It took the remainder of the day to move the small mountain of equipment that would need to be carried by hand into the cave before any diving could take place. A large array of diving tanks went first, including separate tanks of helium and oxygen. An air compressor followed next. They established a surface to lake phone line to maintain communications. They moved three large inflatable rafts that would serve as the dive platform on the surface of the lake followed by two inflatable boats. Guides checked over existing rigging of ropes and wire caving ladders in preparation for tomorrow’s expedition into the strange world.
By eight a.m. the next day Sam stared at the entrance. Barely more than a black hole in the middle of a few jagged gray rocks of dolomite, it would have been innocuous enough that he would have easily walked past it without giving it a second thought. But he would have been wrong. It was called the Dragon’s Breath Cave because the hot, humid air that intermittently arose from it gave the impression that it was being exhaled by a dragon. But today, Sam saw no such humid air being exhaled. All he saw was a small hole, just large enough for a fully grown man to squeeze through. But he knew that appearances could be deceptive.