No one else spoke for several seconds as they looked in awe at the seamless transition from natural rock creation to man-made structure. The rift walls suddenly smoothed, and then were blocked by a twenty-foot-high stone door. The panels were intricately carved with images of kneeling human figures and glyphs similar to those they had seen earlier. The massive structure stood out from its surroundings, not only due to its size, but also because of a reddish sheen that made the doors glow even after all the thousands of years. Monica ran her hands over the stone, spat on a small spot and rubbed it in.

“This is red Aswan granite, one of the hardest granites on earth and definitely not from around here.”

Matt shone his yellowing torch onto the spot Monica had just cleared. “You’re right, it’s not even from this side of the world. This rock only occurs in the Middle East; there was a sarcophagus inside the Great Pyramid of Giza made from this type of stone and when it was discovered they said it shone like fire. To this day no one knows how the Egyptians managed to work it.”

“How would it have got down here?” Aimee was running her hands over the stone as well.

“This was an advanced civilisation. I bet these guys visited all corners of the globe. I’ll tell you one thing, this door was made to keep something in or out.” Matt was shining his torch into a crack where the door didn’t fit flush with the wall. “Hang on, I think it’s open.”

“OK, everyone push.” Alex put both hands against the door and tensed his muscles in anticipation of the force that he expected was needed to move the stone monolith; however, the door swung open easily and in silence. After over 10,000 years the mechanism was still working smoothly. “They sure don’t build them like this anymore.”

“Not for thousands of years anymore.” Matt was first through the door, quickly followed by Monica.

Beyond the doorway they found themselves in a large, domed room more than 150 feet in diameter. Blackened stone urns around the perimeter once probably held oil that when lit delivered light to the magnificent carved walls, some still bearing colouration that hinted at great architectural detail and ornate artwork. A smooth ramp led up to a higher doorway that also had a red granite stone door but this one had been smashed to pieces.

“It looks like a church.” Monica stood just inside the door and hugged herself.

“Maybe, at least a place of worship, for sure,” Matt responded, moving quickly in the dark, his torch beam darting from ceiling to wall and back again.