Will Hardwick, archaeologist/adventurer extraordinaire, stepped through the freshly plasma-cut entrance into the ancient tomb. Sniffed the air.
“No humidity. Must have been sealed tight.”
He flicked on his flashlight; let the piercingly-bright LED beam play across the smooth stone walls.
“No glyphs. Unusual for the era.”
“Might be older?”
“Older than the antechambers? No, it—” he stopped suddenly as the light illuminated a hole in the wall.
In the alcove sat a wooden carving of a human head. It was exquisitely crafted, surpassing any known art until classical Greece. It made Will uneasy, and he tried to shake off the feeling.
His assistant handed him the carbon dater and he scraped off a tiny sample from the figure. A minute later, the little device beeped and displayed a number: 18000.
“No. No way. Impossible.” Will muttered, his sense of wrongness growing stronger. He peered at the emotionless wood face. He almost screamed when recognition finally hit him.
The face was his own.