The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,9

in the breadth of the huge wooden ship, its keel and planks turned black with age.

“How could this be here?” she mumbled.

Mac helped her from the boat to a spit of wet rock. “If I had to guess, the sailors sought shelter in what was once a sea cave.” He waved an arm to the black rock that hung over their heads. “They must have gotten trapped here, become frozen in place, until eventually the ice swallowed them completely.”

“How long ago was that?” Elena asked.

“From the age of the ice,” Nelson said, as he climbed out to join them, “we estimate it was shipwrecked around the ninth century.”

Mac stared back at her. “Everyone thought Christopher Columbus discovered the New World in 1492. Then he lost that title when it was discovered the Vikings had settled in Greenland and northern Canada in the late tenth century.”

“If you’re correct about the age, it would mean this ship landed a full century earlier,” Elena said. “And this is no Viking ship.”

“That’s what we thought, too, but we’re no experts.”

Nelson nodded. “That’s why you’re here.”

Elena now understood. While she had a dual degree in paleoanthropology and archaeology, her specialty was in nautical archaeology. It was why she was picked to unearth the Egyptian port city swallowed by the Mediterranean. Her field of interest was in pushing back the date when humankind first dared to ply the seas. She remained endlessly fascinated by such endeavors and the engineering history behind each advancement. It was a passion likely instilled in her as a girl, when she and her father used to sail each summer off Martha’s Vineyard. She still cherished those childhood memories, those rare moments when the two could spend quality time together. Even in college, she had been part of her university’s crew team, rowing scull to an Ivy League championship.

“Any guesses as to where this ship came from?” Mac asked.

“I don’t have to guess.” She headed toward the exposed stern of the boat. The forward bow was still encased in ice. “Look at how the sheathing planks are stitched together. Even the bindings are coconut rope. It’s all a very characteristic design.”

“Did you say coconut?”

She nodded and stepped toward where a pair of masts had broken long ago and now stuck out of the cave like two flags. The torn remnants of their sails were still preserved. “Those two lateen sails . . . they’re made of palm-leaf matting.”

Nelson frowned. “Coconut and palm leaves. So definitely not Vikings.”

“No, this is a Sambuk. One of the largest dhows of the Arab world. This one appears to even have a deck up there, which makes it one of the rare oceanic merchant vessels of the Arab world.”

“If you’re right,” Mac said, “which I don’t doubt, then this discovery could prove it was Arabs, not Vikings, who first set foot here.”

She wasn’t ready to assert that. Not until she could carbon-date the vessel. Still, her friend—the colleague who had urged her to come here—had been right. This discovery had the potential to rewrite history.

Nelson followed her, waving his handheld device. “Unfortunately, these poor sailors never made it back home to tell their story.”

“Or at least, one didn’t,” Mac added. “We found only a single body aboard the ship. No telling what happened to the rest.”

Elena turned sharply back, nearly blinded as Mac flicked on a flashlight. “So, you’ve been inside?”

Mac pointed toward where a boulder had cracked open the side of the hull. “It’s the other reason you were recommended. This isn’t all we discovered. Follow me.”

He led the way to the trapped ship and twisted sideways to fold his large form through the crack in the hull. “Careful where you step and try not to brush against any supports. We’re lucky this boat wasn’t crushed flat by the ice. The roof of this cave must have protected it all this time.”

Elena climbed in after Mac, with Nelson trailing. John stayed with the boat, still smoking his pipe. With the motor switched off, the place was now deathly quiet, as if the world were holding its breath. As her ears adjusted, though, she could still hear the ice. The walls moaned and sighed. A low grinding echoed throughout the tunnels as if some massive beast were gnashing its teeth.

The reminder of the danger tempered her excitement—but not enough to stop her from exploring the ancient ship.

Mac’s flashlight illuminated the main hold, which was supported by ice-blackened timbers. They crossed quickly through this dead forest. The air