Chapter Twenty-two

“WHAT’S THE SITUATION?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a diesel engine. They use it for pumping water uphill to irrigate their fields.”

“I see.”

Ziegfried was quiet for a while. I could picture his face. He was adding up things in his mind. His mind was like a computer, accurate and thorough. It was always beyond me.

“Chances are it’s a very old engine. If it is, there’s not a lot you can take apart, which is a good thing. Perhaps something’s interfering with the fuel injection, or the oil, or both. Keep in mind, all an engine sometimes needs is just a really good tune up and a really good cleaning. People add oil to their engines endlessly, never thinking to change it. So, you’ll want to bring fresh oil with you. Bring enough to soak the engine. Drain it, fill it, run it, drain it … and fill it again. Take the head off, and you’ll probably want to flush the cylinders with diesel. Clean the engine first, flush it, dry it and feed it new oil. Clean the oil and air filters. Then you’ll have a better idea what might be wrong with it, other than any obvious visual defects. Bring all your universal hoses, adaptors, wire, bolts, the whole shebang, plus your tools, of course. Don’t forget your files. Keep a list and I’ll bring replacements for anything you leave behind.”

“Okay. What about Seaweed?”

“He should be fine, I think, but you’ll want to soak all his food in water. Watch out for snakes, though. Birds and snakes are mortal enemies. And watch out for yourself, Al. Snakes, spiders, scorpions … the desert sun … Holy Smokes, are you sure you want to go?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay. But keep my little buddy real close to you. I don’t want to hear about him getting stepped on by a camel or bitten by a snake.”

“Will do.”

Ziegfried meant Hollie, of course. He had a soft spot for all birds and animals, but especially for Hollie, because Hollie was such a runt, although he was probably the smartest runt that ever stood on four legs.

After studying the maps, Omar and I discovered that if we met up on the coast just north of Gabes, he on camel, me in the sub, we could shorten our trek to the foothills of Jebel Biada, the mountain where the pump engine was. Just two days by camel would be enough to get us there, he said. I had to take his word on that, having never actually seen a real camel myself, or a desert. I asked him if we would see the salt lakes on our way, but try as I might I couldn’t get him to understand what I meant.

It would take two days for him to meet me. That was fine. That gave me time to explore the bay for the sunken city and to find a suitable place to hide the sub. Omar told me to watch out for sharks and to be tough with them. Treat them like wild dogs, he said. Kick at them, rush at them, never let them think you are afraid of them. Okay, I said. I asked if he knew anything about the sunken city. He shook his head, but I didn’t think he really understood what I was asking, and I was too tired to explain.

He left with his sack of sponges, which now included a pellet rifle and a whole bunch of toys. He would sell the sponges in the market, walk across the island about five miles, take the ferry to the mainland and walk another fifteen miles to get home! Once there, he would explain everything to his father and prepare the camels to meet me. We shook hands warmly; he hugged me and went on his way. I watched him disappear down the beach, the long sack hanging over his shoulder.

I climbed into the sub, sleepy now, but determined to turn my sleep around for the week. I didn’t want to be falling asleep when we were riding camels. The radar showed no traffic so I submerged and went out into the bay, keeping just twenty feet or so above the bottom so that I could look down through the observation window. I coaxed Seaweed in with a snack, because he was such a good scout at the window. But three hours of zigzagging around the bay revealed nothing but old urns, broken pottery, and a few wooden boat skeletons. I realized now that there wasn’t just the sand of the sea to contend with, there were thousands of years of sand blowing from the land and settling into the sea that could hide a sunken city just as easily as a land city. Atlantis might be a lot harder to find than I thought.

Hollie never showed any interest in the observation window because he couldn’t smell anything. Seaweed gazed diligently with a patience only a seagull could muster. But after three hours he hadn’t tapped on the glass even once. Okay then. I settled on the bottom and went to sleep.

We planned to meet north of Gabes, on the beach where an old freighter had run aground. I didn’t remember seeing one, but Omar insisted it was there. He said he would light a fire on the beach at night and that is how I should find him. I had no trouble finding the old ship. It was a Greek, steel-hulled freighter, rusted to a reddish brown, deck and cabin included. The ship had run aground on the sandbar ages ago and lay on her side about a hundred feet from shore. The problem was, I couldn’t find any suitable place to moor the sub, especially to keep it out of sight for a whole week. Back and forth I cruised along the coast, looking for a sheltered cove, but it just wasn’t that kind of shoreline. It was all open and exposed. Finally, I stumbled upon the most obvious idea — why not moor the sub to the freighter itself? If I left it awash, with the portal sticking up just a couple of inches, and moored it on the seaward side, no one would ever notice it.

Then I found something even better. Pulling up alongside the stranded ship, I climbed out and jumped onto it. After a bit of exploring, I discovered part of the bridge was submerged and part exposed, with a covered roof. Would it be possible to tuck the sub right in beneath where the bridge was on its side, such that the portal came up through a window into the cabin? Then it would be hidden from the beach and the sky as well. The only way anyone would discover it would be if they climbed onto the old ship and looked inside, into its murky interior. What were the chances of that?

But motoring the sub underneath the crooked old ship wasn’t easy. There were so many odd surfaces to bounce sonar waves off I wasn’t sure what I was seeing on the screen. Several times the sub gently bumped against the rusty metal and made a terrible squealing sound, like a wailing pig. I wasn’t too worried about the ship shifting its position; it probably hadn’t moved in thirty years, but I was a little concerned about getting stuck. I had to go completely under the surface to get the portal inside the bridge. Once inside, I carefully surfaced until the portal was about a foot out of the water. It was dark and kind of creepy. I would wait until the sun came up and review the situation.

It was another whole day before Omar would arrive. I decided to spend the morning organizing parts and tools, and a week’s supply of food for the crew. In the afternoon I would practise diving, the afternoon being when sharks were least likely to be feeding. I would take a nap before dark.

It turned out to be a good idea to spend a day at the ship. It gave Seaweed a chance to get used to it. There were lots of little crabs and various things to keep a seagull busy should he return before us. That’s what I was most afraid of, that he’d return, not see us for a few days and wander off. So long as he could see the sub, he ought to assume we would eventually return, as always. I just didn’t know how long he would wait. I would leave an old shirt of mine on top of the hatch, just to help prod his memory. Seagulls, I knew, were the ultimate masters of survival. And Seaweed was remarkable among seagulls. Still, I would worry about him.

In the tail end of twilight I saw four camels walk onto the beach. What strange looking creatures they were. Their movement was odd too, at least from a distance, and in the growing darkness. I climbed into the sub, took out the dinghy and inflated it, but left Hollie behind, because I didn’t know how he would take to the camels and didn’t want to lose him in the dark if he ran away.

Omar had a fire burning by the time I reached the beach. But he was not alone. He had brought his father and uncle.