Lizard Men of Los Angeles | Page 8

train on your own?"
"Compared to a lot of things I done since I came out here," Mildred
said, "it'll be a piece of cake."
She blew a kiss, and Cairo managed a short bow, then he and Mrs.
Lockhart turned and hurried down the ramp that led to the tunnels
under Los Angeles.
*
The short tunnel crossed beneath Alameda and emerged again at the

end of Olvera Street in the park. Cairo walked the length of it then
returned, searching the walls and floor. "I don't see any way this can
join the other tunnel."
"That's because," Mrs. Lockhart said, "you're using your eyes."
Cairo stopped. "You're right, of course." He produced a long, red
handkerchief from his sleeve and tied it over his eyes. Once again he
slowly walked the length of the tunnel, arms raised slightly from his
sides, turning his head every few seconds to listen or to sniff the air. An
elderly Mexican woman, muffled in a black dress and shawl, passed
him with a frightened look, crossing herself and muttering under her
breath.
Once she had climbed the ramp to the park Cairo asked, "Are we
alone?"
"Quite," Mrs. Lockhart replied.
Cairo nodded, walked to the middle of the south wall of the tunnel, and
ran his fingers carefully over the massive stone blocks. "Ah," he said,
and a section of the wall pivoted backward into darkness. He removed
the blindfold and switched on Bruno's mining lamp. Sniffing the air of
the passage he commented, "Methane. Volatile stuff. Don't light up one
of your cigars in here, Mrs. Lockhart."
"Very droll, Cairo. If you don't wish to lead, I'll be happy to oblige."
Cairo handed her the lamp and followed her into the passage. The
tunnel was ten feet high and nearly that wide, paved with large,
uniform stones. The scars of pickaxes were visible in the rock of the
ceiling. Cairo and Mrs. Lockhart had advanced no more than a few
paces when the section of wall that had pivoted to admit them rumbled
slowly back into place.
Mrs. Lockhart looked at Cairo. "I trust you'll be able to get us out
again."

"I hope so too," Cairo smiled. "Lead on."
The passage ran straight and unencumbered for several hundred yards,
angling slightly downward. Suddenly Cairo halted. "Mrs. Lockhart.
Shut the lamp off, if you would."
She did so, and for a moment they were plunged into what seemed to
be absolute, stygian darkness. Then, after a few agonizing seconds, a
faint, yellowish-green outline emerged from the general gloom of the
floor. Cairo knelt and lifted away a stone trap-door, revealing a drop of
ten feet or so, with hand-holds in the rock, and a stone staircase below
it that led deep into the bowels of the earth. The green glow rose from
the stairs.
Mrs. Lockhart handed the lamp to Cairo and began to descend. "Be
careful," she said. "It's a bit slippery."
Cairo passed down the lamp and joined her on the first platform. "Are
you prepared to go on?" Cairo asked. "I have no idea where this may
lead."
A narrow smile barely registered on Mrs. Lockhart's agelessly beautiful
features. "That lack has never stopped me before."
The stairs seemed to have been carved from living rock, untold
generations before. The risers were over a foot in height and the
uncomfortably narrow treads were well worn. The passage curved
gently to the right as it descended. After the initial turning, Cairo and
Mrs. Lockhart continued straight downward in a northwesterly
direction for hundreds of feet before abruptly emerging into a chamber
the size of a banquet hall with a smooth, level floor. The mysterious
green glow came from a single sphere, somewhat larger than a man's
head, in the center of the ceiling. It provided enough light to easily read
the carvings in the walls of the cave. Interspersed with vaguely
humanoid figures were rows of hieroglyphs. Cairo took the lamp and
studied them.
"Remind you of anything?" Mrs. Lockhart asked.

"The Temple of Ramses the Second at Abu Simbel," Cairo returned,
awe in his voice.
Mrs. Lockhart nodded. "And...?"
"And Chichen Itza in the Yucatan."
"Exactly."
"But if there is a single civilization that bridges those two cultures, it
must mean--"
"Correct," Mrs. Lockhart said. "These tunnels can only have been built
by the survivors of Atlantis."
*
Cairo stood for a moment, as if trying to fathom all the implications of
the idea. "Are you saying that the Atlanteans were not human? That
they were some sort of...lizard race?" Cairo turned slowly, taking in the
carvings, the alien technology of the light sphere. "It could explain so
much..."
He froze. "Did you hear something?"
Mrs. Lockhart shook her head once, a curt gesture that barely disturbed
her jet-black hair.
Another