Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [60]
Popadopoulos went through and called out in Italian. ‘The librarians may be deep in the archives,’ he added for Nina, before shouting again. ‘Agostino!’
An echoing reply came from down one of the other tunnels leading from the large room. ‘He is on his way,’ said the Greek. Nina nodded, looking around while they waited. Two entire walls were taken up by the stacked wooden drawers of a card index system; while there was also a PC on a desk that apparently served the same function, she suspected from the contrast between the lovingly polished old hardwood and the rather dusty computer that the librarians preferred the traditional method of locating a specific document. The electrical cables branched out to power other pieces of equipment: air-conditioners, dehumidifiers, pumps, everything needed to keep conditions throughout the underground labyrinth as dry and stable as possible.
After a minute, shuffling footsteps heralded the librarians’ arrival. Two men emerged from a tunnel – one an old, white-bearded man with a bulbous nose, behind him a somewhat overweight, shaggy-haired youth. The elder didn’t appear pleased to have been interrupted, and his look became one of outright hostility when he saw Nina. He snapped in Italian at Popadopoulos, who gave him a resigned placatory response before making introductions. ‘Dr Wilde, this is Agostino Belardinelli, chief archivist of the Brotherhood, and his assistant, Paolo Agnelli. Agostino, this is—’
‘I know who she is!’ Belardinelli said angrily, jabbing a gnarled finger at Nina. ‘You brought her in here? It is a, a . . .’ Another burst of outraged Italian as he mimed stabbing himself in the heart.
‘Agostino’s son was also a member of the Brotherhood,’ Popadopoulos told Nina awkwardly. ‘He, ah . . . lost his life in Brazil.’
‘Did he now,’ she said coldly. That meant Belardinelli’s son had been one of those trying to kill her and the team searching for a lost Atlantean outpost deep in the jungle.
‘Yes, well,’ said Popadopoulos, ‘it would be best if we got this over with. Agostino, Dr Wilde needs to see everything concerning the Atlantean priestess Nantalas and the three statues that she said granted her powers.’
That provoked another highly emotional outburst from the archivist. Popadopoulos listened with growing impatience, before finally cutting in. ‘Agostino! Once she has seen what she needs, she will leave, and then we can discuss this. But for now, let us find it as soon as possible, hmm?’
Muttering to himself, Belardinelli crossed to one of the ranks of drawers. ‘Nantalas, Nantalas,’ he said, finger waving back and forth like a radar antenna. ‘She was mentioned in one of the Athenian annals. Now, was it Akakios, or . . .’
Agnelli spoke for the first time. ‘It was Kallikrates,’ he said hesitantly. ‘One of the parchments in the fourteenth arcosolium.’
‘Kallikrates, yes.’ Belardinelli had evidently memorised the intricacies of the index, as he went to a particular drawer and flicked through the hundreds of cards within. Taking one out, he donned a pair of reading glasses and peered at it. ‘Ah, his ninth text. I thought so. And it is in the fourteenth arcosolium.’
‘Well done, Paolo,’ said Popadopoulos. ‘It seems we really do not need a computer after all.’
‘I, uh – I have been memorising the catacombs,’ said Agnelli.
Nina wondered why he seemed so nervous about the admission, but Belardinelli’s irritable words gave her an explanation. ‘Yes, he is always wandering off when I need him!’ He returned the card to the drawer, giving the computer a contemptuous glare. ‘Still, at least he is learning for himself. Better than being told the answer by a machine. I never use it myself. If God had meant machines to think for us, why give us brains?’ He jabbed distastefully at the mouse on the left of the keyboard.
‘The text?’ prompted Popadopoulos.
The old man grunted in annoyance. ‘Down here.’
He led the others into one of the tunnels. Unlike