Igor Patanin

The Whisper of Submerged Sanctuaries


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In one of them, Dinara stood next to a tall middle-aged man with the characteristic appearance of local residents – presumably the uncle Ermek.

      Alexei’s gaze fell on a stack of documents on Dinara’s desk. On top lay some printout in Kyrgyz with a logo resembling a coat of arms or emblem. He couldn’t read the text but noticed that several lines had been highlighted with a marker.

      Next to the computer lay a small voice recorder. The red indicator on it was blinking, showing that it was recording. Alexei frowned. Why was Dinara recording their conversation? And why hadn’t she told him about it?

      He quietly approached the desk and turned off the recorder, then returned to the sofa just as the door opened and Dinara re-entered the office.

      «Good news,» she said with a smile. «Uncle Ermek will be happy to see us. He’s currently in Cholpon-Ata, a town on the northern shore of the lake. We can leave early tomorrow morning and be there by lunchtime.»

      Alexei nodded, trying not to show his concern about the recorder.

      «Great. What about your grandfather? Will we be able to meet him?»

      Dinara frowned slightly.

      «Grandfather isn’t feeling very well right now. Age is taking its toll. But I asked Uncle Ermek, and he thinks a visit might be possible if Grandfather feels better.»

      She sat down opposite Alexei again, taking her cup of tea.

      «Now it’s your turn,» she said. «Tell me more about how you found the medallion and what else was in your grandfather’s archive.»

      Alexei gave a detailed account of the folder’s contents, the diary, photographs, and the note his grandfather had left specifically for him. He omitted only his suspicions about the voice recorder – first, he needed to understand what was happening.

      «It’s strange that your grandfather kept this secret for so many years,» Dinara remarked when he finished. «Apparently, he believed the medallion might be dangerous or lead to something dangerous.»

      «Yes, and that concerns me,» Alexei admitted. «My grandfather wasn’t prone to exaggeration or mysticism. If he felt it necessary to warn me, he must have had serious reasons.»

      Dinara thoughtfully twirled her cup in her hands.

      «There are many legends about cursed treasures and mysterious artifacts at Issyk-Kul. The lake holds many secrets.» She placed her cup on the table. «But as scientists, we should approach such stories skeptically, right?»

      Alexei nodded, though deep down he felt there was something more to this story than just local legends.

      «Of course. But I’d like to know what was so special about this medallion that my grandfather concealed it his entire life.»

      Dinara looked at him intently.

      «Did you really come here solely out of scientific interest? Or is there something else?»

      The question caught Alexei off guard. He hesitated, choosing his words.

      «I… don’t know. It’s probably a combination of factors. Scientific interest, certainly. Respect for my grandfather’s memory. The chance to see you again…» he faltered, unsure whether it was appropriate to mention their past relationship. «And, honestly, some financial difficulties. An archaeologist’s salary in Russia leaves much to be desired.»

      Dinara nodded, as if his answer confirmed her suspicions.

      «I understand. Many come to Issyk-Kul hoping to find treasures. Legends of sunken cities and immense riches attract fortune seekers from all over the world.»

      Alexei thought he detected a slight disappointment in her voice, and he felt the need to defend himself.

      «I’m not a treasure hunter, Dinara. I want to understand what my grandfather found and why it was so important to him.»

      She sighed and softened.

      «I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you. It’s just… I’ve seen how treasure hunting changes people, and not always for the better.»

      They sat in silence for a while. The sun had begun to set, and shadows gradually deepened in the office. Finally, Dinara stood up.

      «It’s getting late. I’ll drive you to the hotel. And tomorrow early morning, we’ll head to the lake. It’s quite a journey, so I advise you to rest well.»

      Alexei also rose, discreetly returning the medallion to his inner pocket.

      «Thank you again, Dinara. Really.»

      She smiled faintly.

      «You’re welcome. After all, our grandfathers were connected by this secret. Perhaps we’re destined to solve it together.»

      They left the museum, and Alexei suddenly felt a strange sensation, as if someone was watching them. He looked around but noticed nothing suspicious among the passersby and parked cars.

      When they got into Dinara’s car, he asked:

      «By the way, who else knows about my arrival and the medallion?»

      Dinara fastened her seatbelt and started the car.

      «Only Uncle Ermek. I told him you came with some find related to the 1954 expedition, but without details.» She drove out of the parking lot. «Why do you ask?»

      Alexei shrugged, looking in the side mirror.

      «Just a strange feeling. As if we’re being watched.»

      Dinara tensed but remained silent. After a few minutes, she turned onto a busy avenue and said:

      «You know, let’s go have dinner first. I know a good place not far from here. We can also talk about tomorrow’s trip.»

      Alexei agreed, though he noticed that Dinara checked the rearview mirror several times, as if she too sensed someone’s presence.

      The restaurant turned out to be a small, cozy establishment serving national cuisine. They sat at a table in the corner with a good view of the entrance. After ordering pilaf and tea, Dinara leaned toward Alexei and said quietly:

      «Your instincts might not be wrong. Lately, there’s been a lot of… interested parties circling around historical artifacts, especially those connected to Issyk-Kul.»

      «What do you mean?» Alexei asked, equally quietly.

      «After the collapse of the USSR, many archives and repositories were left without proper security. Valuable artifacts disappeared, documents were lost or stolen. Now these items are surfacing on the black market or in private collections.» She paused as the waiter brought tea. «And in recent years, one person has been particularly actively interested in everything related to Issyk-Kul antiquities.»

      «Who?»

      «Timur Karabaev. A local oligarch who made his fortune in the mining industry. He finances archaeological expeditions, buys artifacts, creates private museums… At first glance, everything is legal and even noble. But rumors suggest many of his methods are far from ethical.»

      Alexei frowned.

      «And you think he might know about the medallion?»

      «I don’t know. But he maintains close ties with the museum management and sponsors many of our projects.» She fell silent when the food arrived and continued only after the waiter had left. «Perhaps it’s just a coincidence. But be careful, Alexei. Don’t show the medallion to anyone except my uncle.»

      They began eating, but Alexei had lost his appetite. Dinara’s words made him wary. What if his grandfather was right and the medallion could indeed lead to something dangerous? What if someone was really following them now?

      He discreetly surveyed the restaurant. Regular patrons, families, couples, groups of friends. Nothing suspicious. And yet the feeling of anxiety wouldn’t leave him.

      «If