The professor led her to a large peaked tent that was open at one end. Inside were the artifacts recovered from the warehouse site, mostly potsherds and tile fragments, strewn about a long linen-covered table. The student Stephanie was busy with a camera and notebook, carefully numbering and recording each piece before storing them in thin plastic boxes. Haasis ignored the artifacts and led Sophie to a small table at the back of the tent. A single sealed box was on the table, which Haasis handled cautiously as he removed the lid.
“I wish we had found more,” he said wistfully, standing aside to let Sophie peer into the box.
Inside was an elongated patch of brown material, pressed between two plates of glass. Sophie immediately recognized it as papyrus, a common writing surface in the Middle East up to the end of the first millennium. The sample was worn and frayed, yet clean rows of handwritten symbols were plainly visible down most of the document’s length.
“It appears to be a port facility record of some sort. I can make out references to a large quantity of grain and a herd of livestock being off-loaded at the wharf,” Haasis said. “We’ll learn more after laboratory analysis, but I think it might be a customs bill for a merchant vessel delivering goods from Alexandria.”
“It’s a splendid find,” Sophie complimented. “With luck, it will enhance the information gathered from the warehouse site.”
Haasis laughed. “My luck, it will prove entirely contradictory.”
They both turned as a tall figure entered the tent carrying a large plastic bin. Sophie saw it was the diver, still clad in a wet suit, his loose dark hair streaked with water. Still angered over her dousing, she began to make a caustic remark but felt her voice wither when she was met by a bright smile and a pair of deep green eyes that bored right through her.
“Dirk, there you are,” Haasis said. “May I introduce the lovely but damp Sophie Elkin of the Israel Antiquities Authority. Sophie, this is Dirk Pitt, Jr., on loan from the U.S. National Underwater and Marine Agency.”
The son and namesake of the agency head, Dirk walked over and set down the bin. Still flashing a disarming smile,
he warmly shook hands with Sophie. She didn’t offer a protest when he was slow to release his grip.
“My apologies for the shower, I didn’t realize you were standing there.”
“No trouble, I’m nearly dry now.” She was inwardly startled at how her anger had suddenly been displaced by an odd tingle. She absently patted her hair to prove her point.
“I hope you’ll allow me the honor of buying you dinner tonight to make amends.”
Dirk’s forward proposal caught her off guard, and she stumbled to answer, muttering something unintelligible. Somewhere a voice inside screamed at her for losing her normally unflappable manner. Haasis thankfully intervened to save the awkward moment.
“Dirk, what’s in the box?” he asked, eyeing it curiously.
“Just a few goodies from the subterranean chamber.”
Haasis’s mouth dropped. “It truly exists?”
Dirk nodded.
“What chamber?” Sophie asked.
“While I was surveying the remains of the inshore breakwater, I found a small underwater opening near Keith’s test pits. I could only squeeze my arm in, but I could feel my hand break the water’s surface. That’s why I was using the water jet, to blast a larger hole through the mud and concretions.”
“How large is the cavity?” Haasis asked excitedly.
“It’s not much bigger than a crawl space, about six feet deep. But most of it is above water. I’ll go out on a limb and speculate that it was part of a cellar used for storage or records archives.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Sophie inquired.
Dirk dried off the plastic bin he had carried in and carefully pulled off the watertight lid. Inside were several ceramic boxes, rectangular in shape and colored a reddish orange. He pulled one out and handed it to Sophie.
“Hopefully you can decipher its contents,” he said. “They didn’t teach me ancient texts in marine engineering school.”
Sophie set the box on a table and gently pried off the lid. Inside were a half dozen tightly wound rolls of material.
“They’re papyrus rolls,” she said in a shocked voice.
Haasis could no longer contain himself, slipping on a pair of white gloves and squeezing in alongside Sophie.
“Let me take a look,” he said, pulling one of the rolls out and slowly unrolling it across the tabletop. An odd but orderly script filled the page, handwritten with a bold stroke.
“It appears to be Coptic Greek,” Sophie said, looking over the professor’s shoulder. An ancient text developed in Egypt using the Greek alphabet, Coptic script was a common written language in the eastern Mediterranean during the time of Roman rule.