With the Nazis now in pursuit, Indy and Diana travel by train across the Arabian desert with the hope of locating a mysterious temple known as the Oracle of Ad, and from there, the lost city of Ubar.
“Indiana Jones and the Towers of the Empty Quarter” Part II
Phil Giunta
CHAPTER FIVE – ROUGH RIDE
En route to Jabrin
Within the rickety passenger car aboard the aging locomotive that carried people and goods to and from the Persian Gulf, Indy and Diana conversed over a meager dinner. On the table before them, a modest array of fruits and vegetables were laid out along with fresh water.
“So, your father is Roger Forrestal?” Indy asked.
Diana nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of seedless grapes. “The same. His latest exploits have been in South America. Last time we spoke he told me he was planning a trip to Peru early next year. I’m not sure about the details since we’ve been out of touch for several months.”
The young woman’s tone revealed a discernible trace of remorse as she spoke about her father and Indy thought better than to press her. Diana’s situation was far too reminiscent of another young lady that Indy had known not so long ago. Banishing that memory from his mind, he decided to change the subject.
“How long have you been in Arabia?”
“I spent three years here with my parents after high school,” Diana replied. “It wasn’t an easy adjustment at first but we managed well enough on a university grant.
“During his last year here, my father found traces of what he believed to be an ancient caravan route in Oman. Ironically, his own caravan ran out of water before they were able to follow it, but he believed that the route would have lead them directly to Ubar.
“Then a few weeks later, the funding was halted before dad got the chance to explore further. We were forced to return home, but Roger passed his information along to T.E. Lawrence, whom he had worked with for a few years before the war.
“With all the time he spent here helping to free the Arabs from Ottoman rule, Lawrence never once took the opportunity to search for Ubar.”
“He wanted to,” Indy informed her solemnly. “I know he did.”
There was a moment of silence between the two broken only by the muffled sound of rail cars rumbling over iron tracks.
Finally, Indy rose from the pull down bunk on which they sat and headed for the door. Before he left the cabin, he turned back to face Diana. “Your father’s notes were included in the envelope I was sent. I think it’s only fair you should have them. I’ll get them to you in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
They each said goodnight before Indy closed the door behind him and made his way down the corridor. Stopping in front of another cabin, he pulled the key from his pocket and inserted it into the worn, tarnished keyhole. On the first two tries, it would not turn completely. Finally, on the third attempt, the lock clicked and he pushed the door open—but never made it into the room.
From the darkness inside the cabin, a fist shot out and struck Indy square in the jaw, sending him sprawling across the tight hallway. Another punch to the stomach drove him to the floor. Stepping nimbly over the stunned archaeologist, a man wearing a flowing white burnoose dashed toward the rear of the car.
Picking himself up somewhat clumsily, Indy started off in pursuit. He chased the man from the passenger car to the small catwalk outside just in time to see the Arab leap over the handrail and into the baggage car, slamming the door behind him.
Sand kicked up from the tracks as Indy followed. Shielding his eyes, he kicked in the door of the baggage car and ducked inside, this time prepared for a scuffle. The interior was all but completely dark save for the filtered light shining in from the passenger car. To avoid casting a silhouette, Indy lurked cautiously behind water barrels and tall stacks of crates, searching for any trace of his assailant.
A sign came in the form of a scraping sound, like metal against wood, just beyond a tall pile of lumber ahead of him. Halting for a moment, Indy took a silent step back before propelling himself forward and slamming shoulder first into the planks, sending them crashing down atop the Arab.
Kicking several of the boards aside, Indy reached down and grabbed the man by the front of his robe lifting him partially off the floor. In the dark, his features were barely discernible but it was clear that he was definitely not of Arabian heritage.
“Who are you?” Indy demanded.
His face contorting in a sickening grin, the man remained silent as he glanced over Indy’s shoulder towards the baggage car entrance.
It was the only question the archaeologist was permitted before the crowbar slammed across his shoulder blades.
***
Thirty minutes later, Indiana Jones lumbered into the passenger car, wincing in agony at every step. As he reached his cabin door, he noticed that it was still open and light shined into the corridor. Balling his right fist, he flattened himself against the wall as much as his aching back would allow and crept slowly toward the room. When he was within inches of the doorway, he turned and charged in—colliding solidly with Diana who screamed in surprise.
Tumbling to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs, Indy yelped as a jolt of sheer pain tore through his shoulder blades while Diana propped herself up on her elbows.
“If you really don’t want me to have my father’s notes, you should have just said so.”
***
The remainder of the night passed without incident and in the morning, after reaching Jabrin, Indy reported his experience to the train’s conductor who promised to alert the authorities in Riyadh upon the train’s return.
“At least nothing was taken,” Diana said in an effort to bring some perspective to the situation.
Oddly, despite the fact that the intruder left all the information about Ubar scattered across the dining compartment table, each and every piece of paper was accounted for after they were recompiled. Both his Webley and bullwhip also remained untouched.
As for himself, Indy was not the least bit comforted. He spent the entire night sitting atop the rigid, unyielding bed wrapped in bandages taken from the scant first aid kits in both his cabin and Diana’s. By dawn, the sharp stabbing pains had reduced to a more manageable dull ache. Despite this, he was appreciative that the circumstances were not as dire as they could have been now that he could walk upright without assistance.
Rounding the baggage car afforded Indy a good look at Diana’s waiting caravan. The sight of it made him seriously consider walking across the Rub al Khali as every muscle in his back stiffened in anticipation of the suffering ahead. He had hoped there would be at least one horse for him to ride. Instead, there were only…
“Camels,” he muttered.
CHAPTER SIX – INTO THE EMPTY QUARTER
“Sana… Sana!”
Indy awoke to the distressed cry of one of the young Arab guides. Dashing out of the small tent, he glanced over to see one of the camels lying motionless in the sand surrounded by Harib and Nisab, twin brothers whom Diana had met as a child and whose father was a member of Roger Forrestal’s failed caravan.
“That camel, Sana, was Harib’s favorite.”
Indy glanced over and rubbed his stubbled face as Diana emerged from her tent and approached.
“What happened?” he asked, knowing better than to think that their trek through the desert would proceed without some crisis.
“Sand spider,” Diana explained casually. “One of the Rub al Khali’s many nocturnal predators. It injects its prey with a fluid that numbs a portion of the body then proceeds to literally eat the victim alive. We were lucky this time. My father lost a guide who had half his face chewed off overnight.”
“How pleasant,” Indy remarked. “How far are we from that trade route your father located?”
“According to his maps, about another nine hours’ journey.”
“Let’s get packed, then. I want to reach it before nightfall.”
***
An hour later, the caravan, consisting of eleven camels and five people, was in motion once again. Indy was thankful that his back pain had virtually diminished over the last two days. Since the guides did most of the work of packing and unpacking supplies and tending to the camels, he was able to take the time to recuperate during the journey and turn his attention toward other things.
He was beginning to enjoy the time he was spending with Diana. He only wished the circumstances were different. She was a woman of obvious intelligence and charm and Indy welcomed her insightful suggestions during the course of their expedition.
Most recently, the two of them came across a few vague references to the Oracle of Ad in her father’s notes. Apparently, this was a temple built somewhere between Ubar and Salalah that was used by the prophet Hud, chosen by Allah to warn the people of Ad to heed his word and end their licentious, heathenish lifestyles. It was in rejection of this warning that the Ubarites swiftly perished.
Though Indy never put much credence in such legends, Diana pointed out that finding the temple would provide definite evidence that the lost city itself truly existed. To him, the discovery of Ubar would certainly make up for the fiasco that he experienced here last year thanks to Belloq.
Taking in the vast, limitless desert surrounding him, Indy relished the fact that this time, there would be no last minute interlopers to steal his glory.
***
On the second floor of an empty, ramshackle building located in one of Riyadh’s most impoverished neighborhoods, Colonel Erwin Rommel studied the photographs he had taken at the airport two days ago. Tossing them onto the table beside him one by one, he paused when he reached the bottom photo and held it up to the sunlight shining in through the window.
Until this afternoon, he had only a name by which to identify the mysterious American whose arrival in Arabia had apparently escaped the knowledge of the Gestapo. Now, after examining the microfilm duplicates of the archaeologist’s documents acquired aboard the train to Jabrin, the colonel realized that this man was here to explore for anything but oil.
Rommel turned to face the door as two of his agents stepped into the room escorted by a burly Arabian. “Did you obtain a complete transcript of the morning’s negotiations?”
The first man nodded. “The recordings include every location where the Americans have been granted permission to drill.”
“Very good,” Rommel commended. “Then our work here is almost finished. I have assigned Stadtler and Vecht to monitor the remainder of the conference for we have received new orders from Berlin regarding Doctor Jones.
“Apparently, after reviewing my report yesterday, the Führer himself wants us to try and reach Ubar before Jones and his caravan. He would be very pleased if we were to bring him the exact location of the Oracle of Ad.”
The colonel turned to the Arab. “Taif, bring the truck around. Gather enough supplies for a five day journey into the Empty Quarter.”
CHAPTER SEVEN – PLAYING IN THE SAND
They found the trail.
Barely distinguishable with the naked eye, the color of the sand along the ancient caravan route was somewhat lighter, and the terrain slightly more level, than the desert on either side.
“This is it,” Diana confirmed with a nod. “This is where my father’s caravan ran out of water.”
“Speaking of that, how does our supply look?” Indy inquired.
One of the guides, an older man named Dilam, answered by holding up two fingers, each indicating one day.
Indy checked his watch. There was one hour left before dusk. He estimated the caravan could travel at least another ten miles.
“It’s your call,” Diana said.
Squinting against the sunlight, the archaeologist peered ahead feeling that typical surge of excitement normally reserved until actual discovery. “Let’s go.”
Thirty minutes later, Harib pointed toward the horizon at what appeared to be a settlement of tattered, cloth tents.
“He says it is Shisur,” Diana translated. “Judging from my father’s map, it seems to be located just about where Ubar should be.”
“It’s a good a place as any to start.”
When they reached the small village, several young children greeted them. Alerted by the commotion, two remarkably thin, bare-chested men emerged from one of the tents and began conversing with the guides.
Although Indy recognized most of the words, he could not understand the entire exchange. The two men were mildly surprised when Diana finally chimed in. After several minutes, Indy’s curiosity got the better of him.
“They said they are familiar with the story of Ubar,” Diana explained. “But are not very confident that any remains of the city really exist.”
Just then, the guides began chattering ecstatically with the two men. Again, the woman joined the conversation and immediately became equally as excited. This was one of those times when Indy wished he had the linguistic training of his father.
“Well?”
“They are asking that we follow them,” she answered, dismounting.
Shrugging, Indy did the same and, along with Diana and the guides, followed the two men into the largest of the tents. Once inside, one of the men lifted the material comprising the tent’s rear wall. The pile of collapsed stone that lay in the sand beyond sent a shiver up Indy’s spine.
“He says these ruins have been here for as long as he can recall.”
Diana and Indy glanced at each other questioningly before slowly making their way out of the tent. Behind them, the Arabs were still jabbering incessantly with one another but Indy could hear none of it above the sound of his pulse throbbing as he stared in awe at what could very well be the remains of a mythical city once considered paradise on Earth.
***
After a cursory inspection of the ruins, Indy and Diana agreed that the Oracle must not be far. Accompanied by Nisab, who spoke the most English of all the guides, Indy set off farther along the trail. Not knowing what to look for, Indy pictured a temple of which he thought to find some trace of ruins. Thus, he did not take notice of the impression in the sand off to his right until he was almost beyond it.
Indy dismounted his camel, which spit into the sand as it lowered to let him off. Ill-mannered dromedary.
Stepping off the trail, he slipped down the slight incline on his heels and stopped just on the edge of a small precipice overlooking a deep pit. Didn’t I just do this recently?
“You find?” Nisab asked from atop his camel.
“Yeah, I find.” Indy nodded, carefully circling the edge.
“I come see.”
Moments later, Nisab crouched beside Indy and peered into the cavity. “Down?”
Indy did not answer right away. With the sun quickly descending to the horizon, the walls of the pit were casting shadows such that he could not see the bottom.
It was then that a sudden movement to his right caught his attention. Looking up, he noticed Nisab tilting forward.
“Hey, be careful!” Indy’s arm shot out in an attempt to catch the Arab, but it was too late. Before the archaeologist could reach him, Nisab’s body was spiraling downward into the darkness. As he descended face first, Indy caught sight of the knife handle jutting from the back of his neck.
Swallowing hard, he rose and glanced upward to see a heavy set Arab standing beside three unfamiliar light-skinned men wearing khaki pants and light colored shirts. All were aiming machine guns in his direction except the Arab, who was pointing his at Diana’s head.
“Good evening, Doctor Jones!” the oldest man began. “We’re so glad we found you. Come up and join us, please!”
Exhaling in disgust, Indy trudged back up the hill, hands in the air. “Don’t tell me, you’re working for Belloq.”
The Germans glanced at each other blankly. “Who is this ‘Belloq’?”
I guess not. “Never mind,” Indy said. “Then who are you?”
“That is not important, Doctor,” Rommel replied. “What matters is what we want, the Oracle of Ad and it would appear that our arrival was most timely.”
Indy pointed back toward the underground temple. “That? I don’t think it’s anything more than a dry well.”
“Really? Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind verifying that for us, would you?”
With a sidelong glance at Diana, Indy shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”
***
Minutes later, Indy was lowered into the pit tied to a rope held at the other end by Taif. When he reached the bottom, he stepped on something soft and immediately jumped back.
“Sorry,” he said to the motionless body of Nisab. Reaching down, Indy retrieved the lantern that he had dropped in earlier.
Looking up, he could see the group gathered around the edge of the precipice. By this time, the German leader had handed his gun to one of the others in trade for a camera and was taking pictures of the buried temple.
“Don’t expect me to smile,” Indy muttered as he held up the lantern.
The gamboling of its tiny flame cast eerie shadows on the remnants of ancient wood and stone, much of them buried to unknown depths, making it impossible to determine the structure’s true size. Behind him and set off to the right, a single wall remained partially exposed. At first glance, there appeared to be tiny holes and cracks covering the flat stone surface. Upon closer examination, Indy recognized traces of ancient Arabic.
Brushing away a thin layer of sand, he was nearly tempted to request Diana’s expertise were it not for their German visitors. Instead, he attempted the translation based solely on memory. Unfortunately, his most recent lesson in Arabic was at the reckless age of sixteen and only then at the behest of his father, which practically guaranteed Indy’s immediate disdain.
Nevertheless, after three passes and some educated guesswork, the archaeologist believed that he interpreted the majority of the message. For that appeared to be precisely what it was, written by the Ubarite prophet, Hud, as a warning to his fellow citizens.
O my people! Worship Allah! Ye have no other god but Him. Your other gods ye do nothing but [invent]!
O my people! I, Hud, your brother and messenger of Allah, ask of you no reward for this. My reward is from none but Him who created me. Will ye not then understand?
And O my people! Ask forgiveness of your Lord, and turn to Him in repentance. He will send you the skies [pouring abundant] rain, and add His strength to your strength. So turn ye not back in sin!”
I call Allah to witness, and do ye bear witness, that I am free from the sin of [ascribing] to Him other gods as partners! So scheme your worst against me, all of you, and give me no respite. I put my trust in Allah, my Lord and your Lord! There is not a moving creature, but He hath grasp of its forelock. Verily, it is my Lord that is on a straight Path. If ye turn away, I at least have conveyed the Message with which I was sent to you. My Lord will [make another people to succeed you], and you will not harm Him in the least. For my Lord hath care and watch over all things.”
Behold, will ye not fear Allah?
I am to you a messenger worthy of all trust. So fear Allah and obey me. No reward do I ask of you for it. My reward is only from the [Lord of the Worlds]. Do ye build a landmark on every high place to amuse yourselves? And do ye get for yourselves fine buildings in the hope of living therein forever? And when ye [exert your strong hand, do ye do it like men of absolute power]?
Now fear Allah, and obey me. Yea, fear Him who has bestowed on you freely all that ye know. Freely has He bestowed on you cattle and sons, and Gardens and Springs.
Truly I fear for you the [Penalty of a Great Day].
Further down the wall, the writing continued but before Indy could resume, a movement to his left startled him. He reeled back as his eyes met the empty stare and gaping jaw of Nisab, the tip of Taif’s dagger protruding from his throat. The boy was standing where before he lay dead, yet he seemed no less lifeless as if his body was nothing more than a gruesome marionette.
“You are not allowed here.”
The voice was not that of the young Arab but rather a deep whisper that seemed to reverberate from the walls, the floor, even the sand.
“Who are you?” Indy asked.
“A vessel of God. You must not be permitted to find this place. Allah shall not tolerate the return of the unclean. This land must never again rise from the sands.
“Allah’s Will be done…”
With that, Nisab collapsed to the ground, finally at rest.
And above them, the winds began to stir…