Prime (Chess Team Adventure, #0.5)

Archaeologists had identified several sites in Asia where the plague had ravaged the population. Entire villages had died and been reclaimed by the earth. It was in these places that Katherine hoped to find Patient Zero—figuratively at least—and to answer two questions: what really was the cause of the Black Death, and why had it appeared, seemingly from nowhere, to nearly wipe out humanity?

She tucked the report under her arm, and with Stafford in tow, she headed for the dig. This particular site, a village that had completely vanished from history during the early fourteenth century, had been a godsend. They had found dozens of remains in small clusters, families that had died in their homes with no one left to bury them. Over the years that followed, seasonal rains had caused the earth to swallow them up where they lay.

Satellite imagery and ground-penetrating radar had given them a rough map of the village, and now strips of engineer’s tape showed where houses had once stood. Several of these had already been excavated, the remains catalogued and removed, but there were a few more at the north end of the village that were still being probed. Katherine walked between these, monitoring the progress of her graduate students and the archaeologists that were working with them, curious to see what new discoveries would be made, but any excitement she might have felt was tempered by the fact that Han Li was hovering nearby.

The Chinese doctor glanced up as she approached. “Dr. Geller, good morning.”

His English was perfect, his manner as quiet and dutiful as always, but Katherine thought she detected a hint of agitation. She wondered if the data in the report had already reached him, but a moment later she realized that his anxiety arose from another source. Several of the team members were working in a new area, outside the map of the village. A new grid of tape was being laid out just beyond the eastern perimeter, and several of the team members were eagerly watching the proceedings.

“What’s going on over there?”

“A discovery has been made,” Han explained.

Katherine pushed past him and approached Bill Smythe, the ground-radar technician who was overseeing the new operation. “Bill, why are you setting up here?”

Smythe made no effort to hide his excitement. “We found something. There’s a large void here, less than two meters down.”

It took a moment for her to process. The void could be a root cellar, not the likeliest of places to find the bodies of plague victims, but if there were remains inside, they would have been shielded from the elements—possibly even mummified. Katherine made an effort to quell her rising enthusiasm. It was better to be surprised with success than with disappointment. “Find a way in. The rest of you have work to do.”

Fifteen minutes later, Smythe reported back that he had found what appeared to be the original entrance to the cellar, a staircase that descended into the void. Laborers used picks and shovels to loosen the earth, and in short order, they created a hole large enough to accommodate a person.

Before descending into the dark space, Katherine donned a HEPA respirator mask and latex gloves—the same bio-safety level-two equipment worn by the team as they dug up the village. It was a precautionary measure, and not just because of the very remote chance of exposure to Yersinia; there were other pathogens—bacteria, viruses, fungal spores—that might be lurking in the sealed environs of the cellar. Thus equipped, she lowered herself into the opening, with Han and Stafford right behind her, the latter recording everything with a handheld video camera equipped with a brilliant LED spotlight.

The descending staircase was uneven, littered with fallen dirt and rock from the excavation, but the space beyond was untouched by time. Katherine directed the beam of her flashlight into the dark depths of the enclosure, and realized immediately that this was no root cellar.

It was a tomb.

The chamber was filled with statuary—dogs, dragons, traditional representations of the Buddha—but there were also elements that, to Katherine’s uneducated eye at least, did not appear to be Chinese in origin. Weapons of war—swords, lances, bows and quivers full of arrows—were prominently displayed, along with life-sized ponies, saddled but riderless. The pieces appeared to have been arranged with feng shui—Chinese geomancy—in mind; the statues formed a maze designed to confound evil spirits who preferred to travel in straight lines.

Han placed a restraining hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “Dr. Geller, I must insist that we withdraw until I can advise the Ministry. This is a significant archaeological find, and has nothing to with your research.”

Katherine gazed back at him. He was right; this tomb had probably been laid long before the outbreak of the plague, and it was unlikely that it would yield any clues relating to their search.

Nevertheless, her curiosity was burning. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. “We should collect environmental samples as a baseline. And while we’re at it, we can make sure it’s safe for the archaeological team.” She patted his arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “Don’t worry; I won’t touch anything.”