Zavala’s face lit up. “I’d trade a case of anejo tequila for a glimpse of this lady when it was still afloat.”

He moved the vehicle slowly along the port side of the wreck.

Austin saw a dark round shape lying about dead center in the hull. He tapped the screen. “What’s this?”

Zavala cautiously powered the vehicle inches forward.

The ROV’s lights picked out a metal grating partially covered by marine growth. He turned the vehicle around and used the force of its thrusters to clear away the sand around the object.

Austin said, “It’s a diver’s helmet.”

“I know the Phoenicians were clever, but I didn’t know they were into hard-hat diving.”

“They weren’t. Someone beat us to the wreck, and from the looks of it he’s still down there.”

Zavala put the ROV in a hover that would keep the helmet in view. Austin laid his scuba gear out on the deck. He stripped down to a bathing suit and got into a neoprene wet suit, boots, gloves, and hood. He pulled on his fins. Zavala helped him with his weight belt and air tank. Austin did a quick gear check and tested the regulator. Then he brought a mask down over his eyes and clamped the mouthpiece between his teeth. He sat on the gunwale and rolled backward into the water.

Austin sank several feet in a cloud of bubbles. He felt a quick chill before the cold water seeping between skin and suit warmed to body temperature. With powerful kicks of his muscular legs, he powered himself down through the darkening water toward the silvery green glow from the ROV lights.

Austin came down practically on top of the vehicle, then swam around in front of the ROV’s camera lens and gave a thumbs-up. Zavala tilted the front of the ROV up and down as if it were nodding. Austin waved back and swam over to examine the ribs. The wood was definitely charred.

He was turning back to the helmet when he saw a rectangular object lying nearby. He picked up what appeared to be a stone or clay tablet, about eight inches square and a couple of inches thick. Lines were cut into the surface on one side.

Austin slipped the tablet into a stuff bag attached to his buoyancy compensator and gave the helmet his full attention. He cleared the vegetation from around the base. The helmet was still attached to a breastplate. He dug into the muck. Shreds of rotting canvas could be seen fringing the outer rim of the breastplate.

Austin felt a chill that was not entirely due to the water temperature.

He unhooked a waterproof flashlight from his BC, snapped it on, and pointed the beam through the grate. Staring back at him were the empty eyes of a human skull.