CHAPTER XIII

Vortex

For the next few hours, the travelers of the subterranean river system below the floor of the Mediterranean Sea marveled at their experience. Tahir explained the waterway was likely first discovered by the Phoenicians. "Some fleeing Carthagians escaping from Rome's invasion of the city also employed it. Later, refugees from the Crusades used it for safe transport between city-states," Tahir continued. "Which is how the Templars discovered it."

"So this isn't the first time the Shroud has been on such a voyage?" Frank quipped.

"Probably not, Frank," Tahir agreed. "We'll be entering a natural tributary in about 50 miles," the grand master announced to the rest of the group.

"What will be doing once we arrive in Jerusalem?" Callie called out from a nearby boat.

"We will be met by the exiled king, Umberto, and the bishop of Rome, or at least his representatives," Tahir called. "A celebration of safe return of the Shroud, at the place where it first originated. And your mission is then complete."

"There's something still troubling me, Tahir," Joe said slowly.

"Yes, Joe?" Tahir asked, turning to his boat mate.

"SPECTRE's a terrorist organization, not an occult. Or are they?"

Tahir shrugged. "We treat them the same way. Iconoclasts seeking to pulverize culture one way or the other, terrorists or what have you."

"Exactly," Joe answered snapping his fingers. "Dr. Jones would tell you even the Nazis would not go so far as to 'pulverize' relics. I read in National Geographic time and again how his whole career has been the preservation of the relics from evildoers."

"Even your Brotherhood of the Cruciform Sword was sworn to protect the Grail," Frank added.

"Go on," Tahir encouraged.

"SPECTRE has had an egg on their face since Abbot Andrew duped the world into thinking they controlled the Shroud. So Blofeld's still in the dark about the truth of the cloth," Joe reasoned, trying to work out his thoughts.

"I think what Joe is trying to say," Frank spoke up, "Is that maybe it's not for occultist purposes, but scientific ones that Blofeld wants the Shroud. Sure, possession of it would give SPECTRE much geopolitical leverage," he admitted. "But more importantly it would give him access to unlimited scientific testing."

"A heathen with no care for the image itself," Tahir grumbled. "If I understand you correctly," Tahir then said, "he wants to dissect the Shroud."

Joe nodded. "He wants to find out its age. To determine if whatever he's planning is worth it."

Chet, who was in the same boat, said, "Because Blofeld wouldn't care at all if it was some Leonardo Da Vinci-Chet Morton artistic creation, for instance," he paused, waiting for a laugh. Tahir, instead, was silent. Joe nodded at Chet approvingly.

"No, young Morton, he wouldn't bother with a forgery. He's trying to determine if it's acheiropoeita," Tahir finally murmured.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" Chet queried, moving his mouth to sound out the word.

"It's Greek," Tahir explained. "It means 'not made by human hand'."

"I thought of something!" Phil Cohen exclaimed from the other boat. "Carbon dating!" the keen youth called out. "Maybe Blofeld wants to Carbon date the Shroud."

"It's possible, Philip, yes. Of course that would burn up the fabric, but he doesn't care about that," Tahir rationalized. "If he does, he would need to take samples from different parts of the Shroud, likely from the center of the cloth."

"Why the middle?" Chet asked.

"Because the Shroud has been patched and repatched ad nauseum over the centuries. Look at the drawings depicting showings of the Shroud, all the fingers grasping the Shroud edges as they hoist it up. Such contamination will likely impact any dating."

A rumble was heard above the cavern. The group suddenly looked up. The silence passed. "We're likely nearing the Port of Said," Tahir explained.

For awhile, nobody spoke, until Frank asked, "Do you think it's authentic, Tahir?"

Tahir shrugged. "Is it the burial cloth of the Nazarene? It is either a miracle or a profound anonymous masterpiece never since duplicated in art or science. Amazing, isn't it," Tahir added, "that only until modern photography do we uncover hidden secrets of the Shroud? As if a photograph from the past was waiting for us to catch up with it."

At the other boat, Tony turned to Phil. "What made you think of the Carbon dating?"

Phil replied, opening his backsack, "I read it here. Found it on the plane," he produced a Scientific American magazine.

"Phil," Tony excitedly squealed, pointing to the cover, "Alduous Drollinger?! The man Tomasone was speaking of in the motorcade on the way into Rome! He was on the plane!"

"I almost forgot," Phil bemoaned. "Yes, it was the profile on Drollinger in which Carbon-dating is mentioned. He's been working with scientists at his Silicon Valley on numerous projects."

"It's too coincidental," Phil answered as he looked through the magazine. "We're going to have to—" he was cut off by a yelp from in front.

"Look out!" Iola shouted from another boat. Phil and Tony quickly glanced ahead of them. Tahir's boat, leading the caravan, was swaying violently back and forth.

"It's the tectonic plates below us," Tahir shouted. "Hold on to something!"

"Hold on to something!" Joe related and the directive was passed down to the other boats.

"Is it an earthquake?!" Frank demanded as the swaying and a new rumbling noise grew louder. "Or is that Port of Said as well?"

"Earthquakes down this far are, how do you Americans say?, a penny a dozen?"

"Not interested in your money, Grand Master!" Chet yelled as a surge of water cascaded across the flimsy boats, drenching the travelers.

"Protect the Shroud!" Joe pointed to the undulating casket. A horde of knights dove upon it, determined not to move despite the violent fluctuation. But the tremblor continued unabated, the boats tossed about as if in a thunderstorm at sea.

"Tahir," Frank called, soaked in prehistoric water, "What's that ahead?!"

"It's the tributary," Tahir mentioned. "From there we will enter the cave of Exilir, our passage to ground level."

"That doesn't look like a tributary!" Frank shouted amid the rumble and surging water. "It's more like a whirlpool!"

Tahir shrugged. "I thought I'd frighten you if I told you the truth about the tributary. We just need to pass this mere obstacle first!"

"Mere obstacle!" Chet cried. But his voice was consumed as the boat whipped around the watery vortex!