Treasure
TREASURE
BY CLIVE CUSSLER
Books by Clive Cussler
Sahara
Dragon
Treasure
Cyclops
Deep Six
Pacific Vortex
Night Probe!
Vixen 03
Raise the Titanic!
Iceberg
The Mediterranean Caper
POCKET BOOKS New York London Toronto Sydney Tokyo Singapore
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc. 1230 Avenue of the
Americas, New York, NY 10020
Copyright (D 1988 by Clive Cussler Enterprises, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
for information address Simon & Schuster Inc., 1230 Avenue of the
Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN: 0-671-70465-6
First Pocket Books printing November 1988
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster
Printed in the U.S.A.
A NOTE TO THE READER
Please forgive the inconvenience of converting measurements from what
most Americans are used to. But in 1991 the United States finally
became the last nation on earth to convert to the metric system.
It's easy.
1 kilometer roughly equals a little more than 1/2 Mile.
1 meter is slightly more than a yard, about 39 inches.
THE ALEXANDRIA LIBRARY truly existed, and if it had remained unravished
by wars and religious zealots it would have given us not only the
knowledge of the Egyptian, Greek and Roman empires, but those
little-known civilizations that rose and fell far beyond the shores of
the Mediterranean.
In A.D. 391 Christian Emperor Theodosius ordered all books and art
depicting anything remotely pagan, which included the teachings of the
immortal Greek philosophers, burned and destroyed.
Much of the collection was thought to have been secretly saved and
spirited away. What became of it, or where it was hidden, remains a
mystery sixteen centuries later.
THE PRECURSORS
July 15, A.D. 391
A land unknown A small, flickering light danced eerily through the black
of the tunneled passageway. A man dressed in a woolen tunic that
dropped below his knees paused and raised an oil lamp above his head.
The dim glow illuminated a human figure inside a gold-and-crystal casket
while casting a grotesque, wavering shadow against the smoothly cut wall
behind. The man in the tunic stared into the sightless eyes for a few
moments, and then he lowered the lamp and turned away.
He studied the long line of stationary forms that stood in deathlike
silence, so great in number they seemed to trail off into infinity
before vanishing in the darkness of the long cavern.
Junius Venator moved on, his strap sandals scraping over the uneven
floor with a bare whisper of sound. Gradually, the tunnel widened into
a vast gallery. Soaring to a height of nearly thirty feet, the domed
ceiling was divided by a series of arches to give it structural
strength. Gutters carved in the limestone spiraled down the walls so
water seepage could run into deep drainage basins. The walls were laced
with cavities filled with thousands of strange-looking circular
containers made of bronze. Except for the large wooden crates stacked