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went on toward the east and seemed to grow larger and larger. George lit an electric lamp and began walking without a word, his crampons crunching the ice beneath his feet.
    Dillon followed , making sure James was okay. He was breathing heavily and his face looked flush.
    “Why don’t you hang back,” Dillon said.
    “Surely you’re joking. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Riches aside, I am an explorer at heart. Don’t forget I began as an archaeologist.” He looked to George. “Something’s not right though, Dillon.”
    “What d’ya mean?”
    “He knows more than he’s telling. There’s too much confidence in his steps. He’s been here several times before.”
    Dillon followed George slowly, hanging back to ensure James wasn’t pushing himself too hard. Eventually, George’s lamp just became a pinpoint of light up in the distance. James pulled out a flashlight and illuminated an area about twelve feet in front of them.
    The cavern grew so wide and tall, Dillon thought you could fit skyscrapers in here. And then it began to shrink. It narrowed down to a corridor about ten feet high as they climbed a path that went slightly up and then fell in a steep decline. George was waiting for them at the end of the decline.
    “It goes down now about half a mile. Stay close. I’m not sure what’s all down here.”

 
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    The decline took longer than Dillon thought it should. Part of the problem was that they were on a bridge. It was about six feet wide, wide enough that he didn’t have to worry about falling off the side as long as he stayed in the middle, but the drop on either side just went on and on into darkness. It could easily have been thousands of feet.
    The cavern now opened up into something otherworldly. It appeared like a massive dome as th e bridge led downward. Dillon had to lean back. A trick he had learned in his stint as an ultra-marathon runner. On downhill slopes, you lean back, relax your legs, and let gravity do the work. Otherwise, your quads could give out and leave you so fatigued you would have to stop and rest for a prolonged period.
    He glanced back to James, who was winded, and then kept his eyes forward.
    “Just think,” George said, seemingly not affected by the hike, “this place has been untouched by man for thousands of years. I was only down here an hour or so and didn’t really look around all that much. We’re really the first people to look at this place.”
    Dillon and James didn’t respond. They were focused on not collapsing from exhaustion or falling over the side into the dark.
    The bridge soon began to widen and they entered what looked like a covered corridor. It was sculpted completely out of ice, but it was too smooth. Too well proportioned. It had to be manmade.
    As they made their way down the corridor, they saw George’s light stop. They came upon him and before them was a forest of shadows. They were symmetrical and evenly spaced with empty air between them. Even from this far and in little light, Dillon could see what they were: buildings.
    “You have got to be kidding me,” he mumbled.
    “Incredible, isn’t it?” George said.
    James looked like he might pass out. His mouth was open as he slowly ran the flashlight over the building closest to them. They were white and smooth, made of the same material as the exterior corridor.
    “This,” James said, quietly, “is the greatest archaeological discovery in the history of our species. Do you understand what this means, Dillon? They will have to rewrite every textbook on history, geology, archaeology, anthropology…maybe even literature and philosophy, mathematics. Who knows what knowledge is held here?”
    “Easy big fella,” Dillon said softly, “remember why we’re here.”
    “I almost don’t want to disturb it.”
    “ James, tell me you’re joking.”
    “I said almost , my young friend.”
    George said, “There’s a path right through here. I think it used to be