The Oracle Read online

  Clive Cussler and Robin Burcell

  * * *

  THE ORACLE

  Contents

  PROLOGUE: PART I

  PROLOGUE: PART II

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  CHAPTER NINETY

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

  CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE

  About the Authors

  Clive Cussler is the author and co-author of a great number of international bestsellers, including the famous Dirk Pitt® adventures, such as Havana Storm; the NUMA® Files adventures, most recently The Rising Sea; the Oregon Files, such as Typhoon Fury; the Isaac Bell historical thrillers, which began with The Chase; and the recent Fargo Adventures which lastly included The Grey Ghost. He lives in Arizona.

  Robin Burcell spent nearly three decades working in California law enforcement as a police officer, detective, hostage negotiator, and FBI-trained forensic artist. She is the author of ten novels, most recently The Kill Order. Burcell lives in Lodi, California.

  TITLES BY CLIVE CUSSLER

  DIRK PITT® ADVENTURES

  Celtic Empire (with Dirk Cussler)

  Odessa Sea (with Dirk Cussler)

  Havana Storm (with Dirk Cussler)

  Poseidon’s Arrow (with Dirk Cussler)

  Crescent Dawn (with Dirk Cussler)

  Arctic Drift (with Dirk Cussler)

  Treasure of Khan (with Dirk Cussler)

  Black Wind (with Dirk Cussler)

  Trojan Odyssey

  Valhalla Rising

  Atlantis Found

  Flood Tide

  Shock Wave

  Inca Gold

  Sahara

  Dragon

  Treasure

  Cyclops

  Deep Six

  Pacific Vortex!

  Night Probe!

  Vixen 03

  Raise the Titanic!

  Iceberg

  The Mediterranean Caper

  SAM AND REMI FARGO ADVENTURES

  The Gray Ghost (with Robin Burcell)

  The Romanov Ransom (with Robin Burcell)

  Pirate (with Robin Burcell)

  The Solomon Curse (with Russell Blake)

  The Eye of Heaven (with Russell Blake)

  The Mayan Secrets (with Thomas Perry)

  The Tombs (with Thomas Perry)

  The Kingdom (with Grant Blackwood)

  Lost Empire (with Grant Blackwood)

  Spartan Gold (with Grant Blackwood)

  ISAAC BELL ADVENTURES

  The Cutthroat (with Justin Scott)

  The Gangster (with Justin Scott)

  The Assassin (with Justin Scott)

  The Bootlegger (with Justin Scott)

  The Striker (with Justin Scott)

  The Thief (with Justin Scott)

  The Race (with Justin Scott)

  The Spy (with Justin Scott)

  The Wrecker (with Justin Scott)

  The Chase

  KURT AUSTIN ADVENTURES

  Novels from The NUMA® Files

  Sea of Greed (with Graham Brown)

  The Rising Sea (with Graham Brown)

  Nighthawk (with Graham Brown)

  The Pharaoh’s Secret (with Graham Brown)

  Ghost Ship (with Graham Brown)

  Zero Hour (with Graham Brown)

  The Storm (with Graham Brown)

  Devil’s Gate (with Graham Brown)

  Medusa (with Paul Kemprecos)

  The Navigator (with Paul Kemprecos)

  Polar Shift (with Paul Kemprecos)

  Lost City (with Paul Kemprecos)

  White Death (with Paul Kemprecos)

  Fire Ice (with Paul Kemprecos)

  Blue Gold (with Paul Kemprecos)

  Serpent (with Paul Kemprecos)

  OREGON FILES

  Shadow Tyrants (with Boyd Morrison)

  Typhoon Fury (with Boyd Morrison)

  The Emperor’s Revenge (with Boyd Morrison)

  Piranha (with Boyd Morrison)

  Mirage (with Jack Du Brul)

  The Jungle (with Jack Du Brul)

  The Silent Sea (with Jack Du Brul)

  Corsair (with Jack Du Brul)

  Plague Ship (with Jack Du Brul)

  Skeleton Coast (with Jack Du Brul)

  Dark Watch (with Jack Du Brul)

  Sacred Stone (with Craig Dirgo)

  Golden Buddha (with Craig Dirgo)

  NON-FICTION

  Built for Adventure: The Classic Automobiles of Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt

  Built to Thrill: More Classic Automobiles from Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt

  The Sea Hunters (with Craig Dirgo)

  The Sea Hunters II (with Craig Dirgo)

  Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed (with Craig Dirgo)

  Whatsoever
a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

  – GALATIANS 6:7 –

  Cast of Characters

  KINGDOM OF THE VANDALS, NORTH AFRICA, 533 A.D.

  Gelimer—the last King of the Vandals, the Usurper

  Tzazon—Gelimer’s brother

  Euric—Gelimer’s next in command

  Belisarius—general of the Byzantine Army

  GELIMER’S ANCESTORS

  Hilderic—penultimate King of the Vandals, murdered by Gelimer

  Genseric—King of the Vandals who conquered North Africa and laid siege to Hippo Regia

  THE PRESENT DAY

  IN LA JOLLA

  Sam Fargo

  Remi (Longstreet) Fargo

  Selma Wondrash—the Fargos’ head researcher

  Professor Lazlo Kemp—a Fargos researcher and cryptologist

  Rubin Haywood—CIA case agent

  Zoltán—the Fargos’ German shepherd

  IN BULLA REGIA, TUNISIA

  Dr. Renee LaBelle—archeologist

  Hank—site manager, Bulla Regia

  Amal—Tunisian graduate student

  José—Spanish graduate student

  Osmond—Egyptian graduate student

  Yesmine—Amal’s mother

  Warren—former site manager

  TUNISIAN GANG

  Tarek

  Hamida

  Ben Ayed

  Monsieur Karim—Tunisian antiquities dealer

  Leila—Karim’s assistant

  IN NIGERIA

  GASHAKA GUMTI, FARGOS’ SCHOOL FOR GIRLS

  Pete Jeffcoat—Selma’s research assistant, Corden’s boyfriend

  Wendy Corden—Selma’s research assistant, Jeffcoat’s girlfriend

  Yaro—school caretaker, Monifa’s husband

  Monifa—school caretaker, Yaro’s wife

  Okoro Eze—tea farmer, Zara’s father

  Zara—student, Okoro’s daughter

  Jol—student

  Tambara—student

  Maryam—student

  Jonathon Atiku—Nasha’s uncle

  IN JALINGO, NIGERIA

  STREET THIEVES

  Nasha Atiku

  Chuk

  Len

  KALU BROTHERS

  Bako Kalu

  Kambili Kalu

  Makao Oni (aka Scarface)—Area Boys gang leader

  AREA BOYS

  Jimi

  Pili

  Dayo

  Den

  Deric

  Urhie

  Joe

  Prologue

  PART I

  Ashes fly back into the face of him who throws them.

  – AFRICAN PROVERB –

  DECEMBER 12, 533 A.D.

  Bulla Regia,

  Kingdom of the Vandals, North Africa

  The winter moon lit the paving stones as Gelimer, King of the Vandals, and his brother, Tzazon, galloped their horses through the old triumphal arch, past the theater, past the forum, past the still-elegant sleeping town houses. When they reached the center of the city, they veered left toward the old pagan tomb-lined highway leading out of Bulla Regia toward the hills. Once beyond the silent houses of the dead, they turned onto a long avenue filled with twisted shadows from the ancient olive trees. Their horses grew skittish as the silhouetted outlines of the neglected Temple of Saturn—the great god of the harvest—loomed up before them. A tangle of vines seemed to hold its crumbling, silver-tinged walls together, the entrance to the oracle’s temple hidden in the hill behind the ruins.

  The two men reined to a stop, tying their horses to one of the trees.

  “This way,” Gelimer said, leading Tzazon toward the temple, then up the stairs to the portico. They were met by a Moorish child, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  She guided them over the porch of the temple, then beyond the ruins, deep into a cave in the hillside. Oil lamps hung from the ceiling at intervals, the shadows dancing across inscriptions carved into the walls. When they reached the heart of the cave, the girl stopped before an unlit chamber, Gelimer on one side of her, Tzazon on the other. Tzazon looked around. “Where is this oracle?”

  The child raised her henna-traced hand in a gesture of silence. “Behold,” she said, “the Sign of Saturn.”

  As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, they saw a tripod with glowing coals. Above this, a magic square seemed to materialize.

  S A T O R

  A R E P O

  T E N E T

  O P E R A

  R O T A S

  It glimmered for an instant, then vanished as the coals burst into flame. The flickering light revealed a girl not much older than the child who’d led them there. Sitting on a tall stool, she wore a turban, and was dressed in robes that shimmered like emeralds tinged with blood in the glow from the embers in the tripod. When she opened her dark eyes, she seemed to be looking straight at and through Gelimer at the same time.

  The Priestess inhaled the fumes from the tripod. In a voice that seemed as thin as the wind whispering through the olive trees, she uttered her prophecy. “Saturn holds the wheels. The balance between Rhea, wealth and abundance, and Lua, destruction and dissolution … Hear, O King of the Vandals, the wheels have slipped. Lua reigns.”

  A chill penetrated Gelimer’s heart. “Tell me, Sibyl, the meaning of your words.”

  “It is as it was foretold. As Gamma pursued Beta, now Beta pursues Gamma.”

  “Utter nonsense,” Tzazon said. “A children’s rhyme.”

  The Priestess inhaled. “Two lost already, at the tenth milestone.”

  The tenth milestone was where, in the attempt to rout the invading Byzantine Army outside of Carthage, their brother and nephew had met their deaths. Tzazon, unimpressed, spat. “She could have heard that from marketplace gossip. Or from one of Belisarius’s spies. Tell me of my death, Sibyl, so that I can prevent it.”

  The Priestess turned his direction, her eyes as black as unlit coal. “Beware the third charge.”

  “The witch is mad,” Tzazon muttered. “What does this even mean?”

  The sibyl’s unseeing gaze turned back to Gelimer. “Know, O King, the Saturnalia is upon us. To break the curse, the sacred scroll must be returned by one who is of royal blood. Death will come to one who is not.”

  “How?” Gelimer demanded. “How do I find this scroll?”

  “The penultimate king sees it from the Underworld. The Usurper is blinded. He will lose that which he holds dear, until all that is left is shadow, and naught remains but vanity.” Then, as if the power of her oracles had drained the energy from her slim form, the Priestess slumped in her chair and seemed to disappear.

  Gelimer and Tzazon were alone with the child in the darkness.

  “She’s a Moor,” Tzazon said to Gelimer after the child led them out. The two men walked from the temple ruins toward their horses. “She worships the old gods. How can you deceive yourself by listening to anything she tells you?”

  “Deceive myself? You will be the next to die unless I find this scroll and return it.”

  “What is this curse you speak of?”

  “It was cast as revenge from the very Priestess who helped Genseric win his conquest,” Gelimer said. “Genseric stole the scroll, hid it, ordered the Priestess’s death, then promised to destroy the scroll should anyone take up arms against the Vandals.”

  Tzazon stopped in his tracks. “You expect me to believe that something that occurred well over a hundred years ago has any effect on the here and now? You forget, brother, that these so-called oracles are masters of the vague turn of phrase. You hear what you want to hear.”

  “This oracle foretold Hilderic’s death if he failed to find the scroll before the festival of Saturnalia, then return it to Hippo Regius.”

  “The only reason he is dead is because the Emperor Justinian would have tried to return him to the throne. It has nothing to do with prophecy and everything to do with protecting your kingdom.”

  “And what of the penultimate king’s d
eathbed confession? How could she possibly have known that Hilderic’s last words were about the map?”

  “Servants talk.”

  “There was no one there except Ammatas, who thrust the knife into his belly at my orders. And he told no one but me. If I can find this scroll, and break the curse before we go to battle, I may yet save your life.”

  Tzazon freed the reins of his horse, then mounted. “Very well. Show me this map.”

  The two men rode back into Bulla Regia to the royal house that Gelimer had occupied after he’d deposed his cousin Hilderic from the throne. It was the same home that belonged to Genseric, after he had stolen the scroll.

  And now, a century later, it was up to Gelimer to see to its return.

  When they reached the royal house, a dozing groom who guarded the doorway rose to attention, taking their horses as they dismounted. The two men strode up the steps, through the great entrance, passing into the atrium, where Gelimer seized a burning torch from its sconce. The torchlight caused the mosaics on the floor to glitter like jewels beneath their feet as the brothers crossed the central hall to a marble staircase. That led down to a long mazelike corridor in the story underground, which protected the Vandal rulers from the summer heat.

  At last, the brothers reached what had been Genseric’s inner sanctum, then, years later, Hilderic’s. The flickering light revealed a desk and chair of ivory and ebony. On the floor beneath it, a detailed mosaic from the old pagan mythology—Echo, behind one of two olive trees flanking the temple, pining for Narcissus, who lay at the foot of the stairs, the handsome youth gazing downward, his finger almost touching the blue and white pattern of the pool in front of the temple.

  “I have searched this room, this house, a thousand times,” Gelimer said. “There is no map.”

  “Perhaps it was Hilderic’s final revenge. Sending you searching for something that doesn’t exist. What exactly did he tell Ammatas?”

  “That unless I faced my vanity, I would fail to see that which is right in front of me.”