"For what purpose?"
Ambrose grinned. "The reason why you're here, to find answers."
Pat removed a notepad, a small paintbrush and a magnifying glass from a pack she carried on her belt.
She moved close to one wall, gently swept away the dust of centuries from the rock, and peered at the script through the glass. She intently studied the markings for several moments before looking up and staring at the ceiling. Then she looked at Ambrose with a blank expression in her face. "The ceiling appears to be a celestial map of the stars. The symbols are. . ." She hesitated and stared at Ambrose with a blank expression. "This must be some sort of hoax perpetrated by the miners who dug the tunnel."
"What brought you to that conclusion?" inquired Ambrose.
"The symbols don't bear the slightest resemblance to any ancient writings I've ever studied."
"Can you decipher any of them?"
"All I can tell you is that they are not pictographic like hieroglyphics, or logographic signs that express individual words. Nor do the symbols suggest words or oral syllables. It appears to be alphabetic."
"Then they're a combination of single sounds," offered Ambrose.
Pat nodded in agreement. "This is either some sort of written code or an ingenious system of writing."
Ambrose looked at her intently. "Why do you think this is all a hoax?"
"The inscriptions do not fit any known pattern set down by man throughout recorded history," Pat said in a quiet, authoritative voice.
"You did say ingenious."
Pat handed Ambrose her magnifying glass. "See for yourself. The symbols have a remarkable simplicity. The use of geometric images in combination with single lines is a very efficient system of written communication. That's why I can't believe any of this comes from an ancient culture."
"Can the symbols be deciphered?"
"I'll know after I make tracings and run them through the computer lab at the university. Most ancient inscriptions are not nearly as definite and distinct as these. The symbols appear to have a well-defined structure. The main problem is that we have no other matching epigraphs anywhere else in the world to act as a guide. I'm treading in unknown waters until the computer can make a breakthrough."
"How you doin' up there?" Marquez shouted from the cleft below.
"All done for now," Pat answered. "Do you have a stationer's store in town?"
"Two of them."
"Good. I'll need to buy a ream of tracing paper and some transparent tape to make long sheets I can roll--" She fell silent as a faint rumble issued from the tunnel and the floor of the cubicle trembled beneath their feet.
"An earthquake?" Pat called down to Marquez.
"No," he replied through the hole. "My guess is an avalanche somewhere on the mountain. You and Dr. Ambrose go on about your business. I'll run topside and check it out."
Another tremor shook the chamber with a stronger intensity than the last one.
"Maybe we should go with you," Pat said apprehensively.
"The tunnel support timbers are old, and many are rotten," warned Marquez. "Excessive movement of the rock could cause them to collapse, produce a cave-in. It's safer if you two wait here."
"Don't be long," said Pat. "I feel a touch of claustrophobia coming on."
"Back in ten minutes," Marquez assured her.
As soon as Marquezs footsteps faded from the cleft below, Pat turned to Ambrose. "You didn't tell me your appraisal of the skull. Do you think it ancient or modern?"
Ambrose stared at the skull, a vague look in his eyes. "It would take a laboratory to determine if it was cut and polished by hand or with modern tools. The only fact we know for certain is that this room was not excavated and created by miners. There would have to be an account somewhere of such an extensive project. Marquez assures me that old Paradise Mine records and tunnel maps show nothing indicating a vertical shaft leading to an underground chamber in this particular location. So it must have been excavated prior to 1850."
"Or much later."