The Midas Code

Inhaling the dank air and listening to the dull reverberation of their voices, Orr vividly remembered his visit to Naples, when he had played with Gia Cavano in the tunnels despite their parents’ protestations. Some children were scared of dark, closed-in tunnels, but Orr could have explored them all day, marveling at the feat the ancients had accomplished in carving them out.

Those ancients had been as busy as gophers. Four tunnels led away from the cistern. If he hadn’t been looking for them, he wouldn’t have noticed the Greek letters carved into the tuff at the bottom right of each tunnel opening. Alpha, lambda, sigma, and mu. Somehow the geolabe would tell them which letter would lead them in the right direction.

“Which is the right one?” Orr said.

Tyler didn’t look up. “We’re working on it.”

“Work faster. If I think you’re stalling, one of you will end up with a hole in your belly the size of a dinner plate.”

Stacy blanched. She wasn’t planning on trying to fool him.

“We’re doing the best we can,” Tyler said.

“You just sprung this on us,” Stacy said. “It may take time.”

“We may not have much time,” Orr said.

“Why not?” Tyler said.

“Because Gia Cavano could very well be on her way here right now.”

“You son of a bitch!” Stacy spat out. “You told her where we are?”

“I needed your friend Grant Westfield out of the way. Either Gia killed him or, even better, she convinced him to lead her to us. If she doesn’t follow, good for me. If she does follow, I’ll have a surprise waiting for her.”

“What kind of surprise?” Tyler said.

“The nasty kind. Now get back to work.”

Tyler stared at Orr. For a moment, Orr forgot that he was in control and felt unnerved by Tyler’s gaze. Then Tyler refocused his attention on the geolabe. Orr was surprised by his sense of relief. He ran his fingers over the wrist detonators and felt better.

Tyler and Stacy went back and forth between the device and the instructions in the document. As far as Orr could follow, it had something to do with mathematical principles that were beyond him. At one point, Tyler took the pencil and jotted down some calculations. Stacy looked confused by Tyler’s questions as well, but she answered with translations as quickly as he asked them.

In ten minutes, Tyler suddenly stood up with the geolabe.

“You’ve figured it out?” Orr asked eagerly.

“Yes.” If there was any doubt in Tyler’s mind, Orr didn’t hear it.

“How does it work?”

Tyler shook his head. “It’s too complicated to explain.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’re right. I just don’t want to tell you. For obvious reasons.” He pointed to the explosive belt around his waist.

Orr grinned. “You’re a smart guy. But I’ll be keeping tabs on which tunnel we take. If I think you’re stalling by taking us in the wrong direction or I see us doubling back, there really will be no reason to have you both along. Get me?”

“I’ve got you.”

“So which way do we go?”

Orr saw Tyler twirl the top knob on the geolabe. When the dial stopped, he turned it over, then glanced around until his eyes settled on the portal with the sigma next to it. The opening was no more than three feet wide.

“That one,” he said, handing back the pen and the sheaf of papers.

“You’re sure?” Orr said.

“That’s what Archimedes tells me.”

Orr saw no harm in letting Tyler and Stacy see where they were going, so each of them was equipped with a lantern. The lights threw eerie shadows in the otherwise total darkness. The passageway was curved and not wide enough for more than one person at a time. Gaul went first, then Stacy, then Tyler. When Tyler was far enough ahead, Orr followed him in.

Just a few feet in, Orr opened a gum wrapper and pocketed the gum. He loosely balled up the wrapper and dropped it on the ground. The tiny piece of silver foil reflected his light in a pinpoint flash. Now Cavano would find the carelessly dropped bit of trash and know which way to go.

After forty feet, Orr emerged from the narrow tunnel into another cistern as big as the first. Three more passageways led off from it. This time, no Greek letters were present.

“What happened to the markings?” Orr said.

“There won’t be any more,” Tyler said. “The geolabe will tell us which tunnel to take from here on out.” Tyler pointed to the tunnel on their right.

Orr now understood why the geolabe was their guide. The spy for the king of Syracuse must have created his map as he walked, perhaps marking his arm with charcoal to record the direction of each turn. He wouldn’t want to etch the walls with directional indicators that could lead the Romans back to his discovery. But when the spy found the exit, he knew he would need to indicate which tunnel was the starting point back to the treasure, so he’d scratched a letter next to each of the tunnels just below the old water level of the cistern.

Orr used a knife to mark the wall with a small x next to the opening they’d just come through to show him the correct path out once he got rid of Tyler and Stacy. Then he sent the three of them ahead into the next tunnel while he hung back.