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Authors: Ray Smithies

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BOOK: Scorpio's Lot
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‘But shouldn’t we check with the
club first? They may have an update.’ Emily thought his decision to visit the
police may be in haste.

 

The trio met up with the person
called Tracy, a tall blonde whose eyes were a rare, green-blue combination
enhanced with heavily applied mascara. She projected a forceful and stern
personality, but was at least sympathetic with the dilemma facing her three
interrogators. The situation was explained at some length, with emphasis on the
committee members being both prominent and responsible individuals who simply
couldn’t vanish without a trace, unless foul play was at hand. Tracy listened
intently to the problem and then suggested she retrieve a list of the committee
members that could be passed onto the police. She momentarily disappeared to
fetch the notation.

 

‘Here we are. I thought it had
been left in my office,’ she declared, passing it across to Emily who happened
to be standing the closest.

 

Emily Harrison placed the list on
the reception desk for all to see. Accepting it was inevitable to see Tom’s
name, she nonetheless let out a short cry with the realisation this was
documented proof of his attendance.

 

‘That’s quite a representation
from the local constituency,’ claimed Tracy, whose absurd comment fell on deaf
ears. ‘I mean, how all these people can suddenly disappear off the face of the
planet…’

 

‘I think we get the general
picture.’ Hamish didn’t appreciate the remark.

 

‘What time do you close these
premises tonight?’ Emily queried.

 

‘One o’clock, a little under an
hour from now.’

 

‘Thank you, we may return with
the police,’ she added and then turned to depart.

 

After a short trip to the police
station they found young Chris Martino on late-night duty. At ten minutes past
midnight he was very surprised to see this trio walk through the lobby doors.

 

‘Mrs Harrison, Brigit and
Hamish... What on earth brings you here at this time of night?’

 

‘There’s a problem you should be
aware of.’ Hamish proceeded to inform Martino about the crisis.

 

The constable’s first reaction
was to think of his colleague Darren Burke. ‘I’m aware the sergeant attends his
community meetings, but they’re held when he’s off-duty. He rarely phones in so
we’re obviously none the wiser about tonight’s event. When did you say the
group went missing?’

 

‘According to the RSL, a staff
member checked the conference room around ten-fifteen and found everyone gone,’
replied Emily.

 

‘And their personal effects and
cars were left behind.’

 

‘Yes!’ said Brigit impatiently.

 

‘It’s hardly the grounds to imply
they were abducted, but we’ll see what can be done. Generally the force acts on
these cases following a lapse of two or three days, but I’ll make an exception
here,’ Martino said.

 

Martino was simply covering
himself should the inevitable happen. They could only surmise the constable had
made his decision based on Burke’s involvement. Martino decided to try Burke’s
mobile on the off chance he might answer. No response. A second attempt still
yielded no reply other than his standard recorded message. Similarly, Forbes
and Marsh’s phones could only provide further recordings. He decided to approach
Carpenter, who was office-bound at the rear of the building. The two often
shared the late-night shift and it was generally left to their discretion when
to shut up shop and close the station. He informed his sergeant about the
incident and then returned to reception.

 

‘There are only two of us on duty
tonight because most of the men are at the Broadbent site searching for that
underground entrance. I’ve spoken to my sergeant and we’ve agreed to call it a
night and lock up the station. We’ll accompany you to the RSL and try to get to
the bottom of this matter.’

 

~ * ~

 

Forbes
decided on four persons to enter the underground network. His final choice
would be Marsh, Doyle, Parnell and himself. For security and emergency purposes
a sizeable backup team was at his disposal should the situation arise. Forbes’
logic was to initially assess the subterranean and then mount a suitable
assault with a near-full team in mind. He was adamant this procedure would
bring about the destruction of Scorpio. No point entering with an army until he
was fully aware of the opponent they were dealing with. Besides, a task force
in disarray may very well create evacuation.

 

Each of his men carried a rope
and two-way communication. A spotlight was mounted to each crash helmet and a
water container strapped to each man’s waist was considered mandatory to
prevent dehydration. With each officer now equipped and ready for descent, the
men were finally lowered to the awaiting passageway. Four ropes were then
raised to the surface leaving Forbes and his entourage standing on a bricked
staircase with the lure of the subterranean network all before them.

 

The immediate path led to a
generous-sized landing some ten metres from the surface. Fortunately the
stairwell was still accessible, but an enormous amount of damage was evident as
a result of the Broadbent blast. To one side of the steps the bluestone had
ripped through a number of levels, devouring everything in its path. The sheer
force to move this amount of rock was almost beyond belief. Forbes was left to
wonder why they had used so much explosive.

 

On their short arrival to the
platform below, the small contingent momentarily paused to assess their
immediate surrounds. The landing was exceptional large, possibly seven to eight
square metres across. A further set of descending steps on one side were
equally as wide. The architecture and workmanship on show was impeccable.
Curved ceilings gave way to perpendicular walls, their vertical orthogonal
design so perfectly constructed that any plumb line measurement would be
certified without challenge.

 

Circular stone support columns to
both sides of the descending staircase protruded every twenty steps or so. On
one such column, numerous carvings of delicate goddess figures were clothed in
beautiful apparel. To another, Aborigines in tribal attire brandishing hunting
or fighting weaponry offered a contrasting concept. There appeared to be a
different theme for each subsequent column. The entire immediate area projected
a skill level of extraordinary accomplishment. Forbes puzzled over the
craftsmanship which lay before him, for he understood it to be convict labour
accredited for construction, under guidance from the authorities at the time.
He could only conclude that the slave labour had incorporated some stonemasons,
or alternatively, engineers had been hired to address the more challenging
aspects of the project.

 

The four men recommenced their
descent. The stairwell maintained its generous width as it plummeted,
straightened and occasionally spiraled further into the depths of the network.
At around sixty or seventy metres below the surface, a further landing could be
seen in the distance. The infrastructure was dramatically changing, to the
point where the whole subterranean underworld was taking on a distinct
transformation. Directly ahead lay a spectacle of unimaginable proportions. A
gigantic aperture was unfolding as they approached the next landing. From the
officer’s distance, the view below was indeed panoramic and perhaps a trifle
intimidating in scale.

 

On their arrival at the plateau,
the platform gave the impression it had once served as a balcony. The view
reflected from the four spotlights was awesome. Reminiscent of a canyon, an
enormous opening of around eighty metres lay before them from the edge of the
landing. To the far side a solid rock face descended beyond what their torches
could pick up. The sheer depth of this cavity would be anyone’s guess.

 

The rock face had been chiseled
or hewn in many places with near perfect precision. It was as straight as any
engineer could possibly hope to achieve. Forbes ventured closer to the edge,
being careful not to depend on the fragile-looking handrail. He peered down
into the darkness of the opening. From the other side of the gaping crater his
spotlight could pick up a series of descending steps. With each prominent path
a number of landings were apparent, as if representing different levels on a
highrise building. He could only surmise the entire underground network was
based around this phenomenon that Mother Nature had created.

 

It defied logic that something of
this magnitude could have been kept isolated and shrouded in secrecy for more
than two hundred years. He could recall Arthur Simpson making reference to a
typhoid plague and that the local fraternity chose to seal the three entrances
in fear of the epidemic resurfacing. All the above ground evidence was
subsequently removed and it became taboo for any person to speak of the
subterranean passageways. Throughout the decades and centuries that followed
the underground network become folklore, to the point where any receptive or
gullible individual was scoffed at if believing such a place existed. Forbes
could only surmise that for this reason alone the place remained concealed.

 

In still viewing the distant side
of the crater, the presence of faint glowing lights in no particular sequence
or pattern could be seen at varying heights. Forbes wondered what purpose they
served, for these illuminations all appeared to be recessed against the rock
face. Certainly they weren’t intended to light a passageway, so why were they
inserted alongside this huge opening? Intrigued by their presence, it gave the
impression they weren’t alone in this vast subterranean world. He could
envisage the network of descending staircases and that of the mysterious
glowing lights were a mirror image on both sides of the cavity.

 

The rock face viewed from the
landing descended vertically and the hole was almost circular, giving the
impression it was perhaps an old volcano site. The air was distinctly stale and
musty and the echoing sound of water droplets could be heard in numerous
directions. Dampness and mildew was in abundance, possibly contributing to the
overall malodorous smell. Despite the magnetism of this remarkable spectacle,
it was time to push on with their intended pursuit. With one last look Forbes
stopped for a brief moment, thinking that Scorpio’s southern operation may very
well be located in the depths of this network.

 

With their departure the four men
proceeded along the main arterial, forever descending further into this
intriguing place. Now approaching one hundred metres below surface, a number of
side, intersecting passageways and chambers began to materialise, all still
constructed in the theme of bluestone, and to a lesser degree, granite and
sedimentary rock. The air had become heavy and oppressive and the men felt as
if the weight of the subterranean was now pressing down on them.

 

In a somewhat bizarre occurrence,
the strange mixture of stale air, incense and spice suddenly filled the
immediate vicinity. Recessed in one of the side chambers, a terracotta statue
of some notable importance came into view. Its relevance begged the question as
to why its existence? The image of the sculpture appeared idol-like, sitting
cross-legged with a lily and a lotus flower in each hand. The face was
distinctly oriental, but the robes appeared Middle Eastern. Forbes could only
judge the statue to resemble Buddha in some way. It looked distinctly out of
place from any previous figure they had encountered. Perhaps there had been
some oriental influence back in those days.

 

To either side of the lotus
positioned sculpture, two further idols were erected. These smaller images were
in stark contrast to their larger and more distinctive counterpart. One statue
depicted beauty and serenity, while the other was grotesque in its distorted
image of absurd and hideous shapes. It was probably symbolic in representing
good from evil, thought the detective. With the presence of this fragrance
still lingering in the air, he couldn’t help but think that someone had been
here quite recently.

 

Progressing to the next chamber
the display was equally intriguing, for in this particular recess a multitude
of relics were to be observed. Stone tablets rested upright against the wall,
their inscriptions and pictorials resembled the writings of Christian belief.
The mummified remains of some individual lay to one corner, covered in a
clay-like secretion and wrapped in the scarce remains of what appeared to be
either bark or foliation. Glazed vessels and enameled urns, including that of
copper cups and various utensils, all of which appeared rather crude in design
and quality, were scattered around the remains.

 

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