by C. E. Murphy
"There's no such thing," Dana said under her breath.
Lorhen smiled. "Atlantis is only a legend, too," he reminded the pilot. "Michelle, do we have time? Can we explore the house?"
Michelle looked wryly at Lorhen. "You're a better archaeologist than I am. I make one good find—well, you do!—and I want to haul it topside so we can get a good look at it. Sure, we can go exploring. There’s a little room left, right, Anne?"
Anne gave her a brief, sour look. “Says the woman not driving the robot. Yeah, I can get another little thing or two, and if we find something really spectacular I can always leave the chair behind.”
"If this room is intact, maybe others are," Ghean said quietly. "Logan seems to be having a good day. We may as well cash in on it."
"All right, all right," Anne said. At her command, Handy rose away from the chair and puttered up over the half wall, into the next room. It was almost half again as long as the dining room, with stone counters built against the walls. Above them was shelving, all of it stone, much of it emptied. Endless broken pottery on the floor pointed to where the material that belonged on the shelves had gone. Some of the counters had collapsed, leaving piles of rubble on the floor, but a few still stood, one with a bowl sitting on it.
"Go look at it!" Michelle nearly bounced in her seat. Anne laughed, and Handy swam toward the bowl, which sat as if it had been left there only yesterday. It was considerably less elegant than the plate they'd found, plain and undecorated, but still whole. "A kitchen?" Michelle hazarded. "A mixing bowl. Let's see if we can find any utensils. If we're lucky they'll have used stone, not wood."
Dana chuckled. "What, you don't think we're going to find any stainless steel? Over there, Anne, to the right. I thought I saw something on the floor."
"There's a lot on the floor," Anne pointed out. "Mostly broken. Must have been one hell of a quake." Still, Handy dropped away from the bowl to veer to the right, exploring the floor a few feet at a time. "Good eye," she added admiringly a moment later, and used one of Handy's claws to carefully push away debris from a long spoon and a stone knife that still visibly held an edge. The end of the spoon was broken off, but Michelle crowed with delight anyway.
"Mary, you should have brought Dr. Adams on board for this project a long time ago. At this moment I'd say he's worth his weight in gold. Anne, can we do a quick perimeter sweep before we look at the floor any more? I want to see how big the room is."
"Sure." Handy bobbled back up, working his way down the wall they'd begun on, over the bowl.
Lorhen glanced at Ghean, who mouthed 'servant's quarters'. He nodded, looking back at Handy's screen. The Atlantean Houses had been run by servants, still part of the House, but not the noble blood who ruled the city and island. The kitchen almost invariably was in their quarters, set off a little from the rest of the House. The dining room they'd come in through wasn't the main one, then. There would be another one, larger, somewhere else.
Lorhen straightened abruptly, almost cracking his head on the top of the submarine. Servants, scholars and housekeepers, Ragar had said to him one afternoon as he and Lorhen had made their way through the gardens toward the Bull’s House. We all live in this part of the House, not quite part of the nobility, but too useful to keep further away. "Ghean," he said out loud, and she looked at him sharply.
"Afraid so," Michelle said. "Half the back wall is gone, in fact." Handy lit up what had once been part of a door, the left side of it broken away, along with most of the corner of the kitchen. Michelle leaned forward, as if she could bring Handy closer to the wreckage by doing so. "It doesn't look like there's anything past that. No more walls."
Anne pushed Handy up to the remains of the door, shedding light on the ground outside. "Looks like this had floor laid here, though. Out, or do you want to look at the rest of the kitchen?"
"The kitchen," Michelle said.
Ghean stepped back to lift her eyebrows at Lorhen. "And you were admonishing me to be careful?" she asked very softly. "What is it?"
Lorhen pulled an apologetic face, lowering his head to speak quietly into her ear. "Ragar's room is the next one over, just off the terrace there. He kept a journal in one of those boxes."
Ghean's face lit up. "Do you think—" she began, still very softly.
"God damn!" Michelle clapped her hands together, shouting with delight. "You are worth your weight in gold, Adams!"
Lorhen leaned around him to look at Anne's screen. Handy was in front of a set of cupboards in the back corner of the room, and had pulled one of the doors open. Unbroken pots and utensils lined the shelves. "Well, aren't I clever," he grinned. "There's your motherlode, Michelle."
"They used a lot of stone," Jerry said. "I don't get the impression these people thought in the short-term."
Ghean smiled crookedly. "Perhaps when you're the most advanced civilization of the time, you want to make a good impression on the neighbors."
"Apparently so. All right, Logan. We've struck gold twice in a row here. Do you have another inspiration as to where we should take a look next? You've given us a fine show of their architecture and pottery. I don't suppose you could point us at a perfectly preserved body or a closet full of undamaged clothes so we could see what they wore and ate? Maybe some murals to give us an idea of the level of art in their culture? Although," Michelle added, musing, "that plate with the dancers is a pretty good showing of that. Well?" She lifted her eyebrows at Lorhen.
A perfectly preserved Atlantean body. Lorhen deliberately didn't look at Ghean, afraid of her expression. "You don't ask for much, do you?" He frowned, running a hand over his mouth. "Finish the other wall of the kitchen, anyway, and let's go through the door back on the other end of the kitchen. There's got to be more to the house over there, right?"
"How practical of you," Anne said. "You don't want to go surging blindly into the night? You're no fun at all." She grinned over her shoulder, then sent Handy back along the kitchen's other wall, stopping to examine shattered fragments of pottery. A few minutes later she directed him through the kitchen door, and let him hover there. "Left or right?" she asked. "Which wall do you want to follow? All I can see is floor, right now."
"Left," Lorhen said, at the same time Michelle said, "Right." They grinned at each other, and Michelle waved a hand. "Left," she agreed. "I'd hate to jinx this now."
"I don't think you can jinx it," Dana said. "I figure about the only thing that'd lose us this is if there was an earthquake that brought it all down around our ears right now."
Silence filled the sub as everyone stared at her. After long seconds, she cleared her throat and mumbled, "Sorry."
"God, Dana," Anne said disapprovingly, and then shook herself, passing it off. "Don't do that! Left it is, then." Handy began his exploration along the wall, and the blonde woman added, "Really, Logan, I know I gave you a hard time, but I don’t know if you realize this is the right way to explore, methodically like this. We're far less likely to miss something. Have you ever been on a dig before?"
Not since the twenties. Lorhen shook his head. "No, just read about them. Being systematic makes sense, that's all. Although this isn't a very interesting wall, is it?" There'd been a wood-framed painting on it once, a brilliantly colored rendition of a god taming one of the unicorns, with the city gleaming behind it. Lorhen straightened again, this time cracking his head on the top of the sub. He rubbed his head, muttering, "Ow," as he watched Handy follow the wall. It was the Bull’s House, at that. Taurus, he told himself absently. They would certainly call it Taurus, and Ghean’s House, Orion. He might as well start thinking in those terms. But Taurus had kept the war-horses. The stables might have survived, and—maybe, if not probably—a unicorn skeleton. Emma would be all bent out of shape. Lorhen grinned at the thought.
"Door," Anne announced as Handy rounded the corner. "In or not?"
"In," Lorhen said. No one argued as the robot swam into the next room. Barely damaged at all, it was also almost empty. Lorhen had expect
ed that. Ragar's furniture was of wood, as most of the Houses' furniture had been, despite the stone table in the dining room. Time and water had dissolved them, leaving the more durable belongings littered on the floor. An ink pot and stylus lay where a desk had once been, the ink pot overturned. A small knife lay with them, used for sharpening charcoal. Anne collected the items without asking, tucking them away into Handy's pouch.
"They wrote," Michelle murmured, as the stylus was lifted and examined before being put away. "That's an incredible find, right there. I wonder why there's no furniture."
"Rotted away," Ghean said. "It must have been wooden."
"Either that or they liked sleeping on stone floors," Lorhen said innocently, and fought off a laugh as Ghean glared sideways at him.
Dana leaned forward, squinting at Handy's screen. "What's that? Can you move Handy to the left, Annie?"
"It's just a box," she said dubiously. "Not all that interesting, and it's kind of big. I'm not going to be able to get anything else, if I take it."
Lorhen caught his breath, and Ghean's hand crept into his, tightening in anticipation. Ragar had kept his journal in that box, and although Ghean couldn't know that, she would know that Atlanteans kept all sorts of treasures in those boxes. He squeezed her hand back, trying to keep his voice casual. "I have a feeling."
Michelle grinned. "Careers," she said, "have been made on less. Go on, Anne. Worst that can happen is that Logan's feeling is wrong and we'll get to give him hell."
"How quickly you turn against me," Lorhen sniffed. Ghean's grip on his arm loosened as Anne maneuvered Hand's claws around the box and lifted it into his pouch. Lorhen looked down at her, and she smiled, excitement coloring her cheeks. "Now only if it's undamaged," he murmured, and she nodded.
Anne brought Handy out of Ragar's room, exploring the other rooms in the servant's quarters. The common area, much larger than any of the other rooms, had a wide door, still closed, that lead into the rest of the house. After prodding at the door a minute or two, Anne shook her head. "I could probably open it," she said, "with some patience and maybe a wedge of some sort, but we're about full up already. Let's go get that chair and head head topside to look at our treasures. If I'd known Logan was going to bring us to a gold mine, I'd have used a bigger pouch for Handy."
Lorhen returned to his seat, smiling. "Next time you'll know better."
"Hey," Dana said, "if you want to choose all our sites for us, at this point I'm for it. I don't know if we'd have ever checked out here."
"Eventually you would have, I'm sure," Lorhen said smoothly. Anne shook her head as she moved Handy back out to the dining room, and nudged a claw under the chair back. The claw closed gently around the carved bull in the center, and she carefully closed another one around the chair's upper leg.
"Maybe we would have," she muttered, concentrating, then exhaled, "Moment of truth," and lifted the chair.
It remained intact. Dana let out a cheer, narrowly stopping herself from clapping Anne on the back. She grinned, biting her lower lip in concentration as she reversed Handy's engines and backed out of the room, chair in her grasp.
"Nicely done," Michelle said. "Did you see that? Hardly any damage, very little crusting, it's in almost perfect condition. This is all going to make everyone very, very happy." She turned around to Lorhen, leaving the camera still pointing out the window. "Looks like you're a lucky charm."
"Lucky, anyway. Now I'm going to sit in the corner and look modest about the find while you do all the work."
"Just like a man," Anne laughed, lowering Handy's arms to their lowest point and letting the automatic mechanism dock it under the sub again. "Let's get out of here. We're gonna be famous."
Jerry flashed a grin. "Boy howdy do I like the sound of that."
"Are you sure it's a box?" Michelle leaned over the drying stone dubiously. Lorhen scraped buildup off the sides with a piece of sandpaper, nodding.
"It's too light to be solid," he explained, "and I think this is a seam." He rubbed a finger over the slightest flaw in the stone, then glanced up at Michelle. "I can't believe you're hovering over me fussing over this with all that." He nodded toward the buzz of activity that had been going on since the sub resurfaced. The chair had survived the journey to the top unscathed, and more than a dozen people were crowded around it, inspecting and filming it, everyone talking at the same time.
Each of the individual pieces they'd brought up garnered the same attention. The apparently impenetrable box Lorhen was cleaning up was the focus of the least interest. Michelle glanced at the crew examining the chair, but shook her head. "I'm as interested as they are, but I guess I'm kind of counting on your hunch, here. I want to be paying attention when you get that thing open."
"Your confidence is flattering." Lorhen looked down at the box, then frowned, glancing around again. "Where's Mary?"
"Being drowned in champagne, I think. She was going to bring some back for all of us."
"Into the lab?" Lorhen asked, horrified. "What if it gets spilled?"
"In the hall," Michelle assured him. "Not in here. Don't worry. How do you think it opens?"
"With a chisel, failing all else." Lorhen smiled at Michelle's expression, turning the box on its side. "No, there's a little indentation," he said, running his finger over it. "I found a couple of others. One of them, maybe. I'll figure it out. But I need to get the rest of this crap off it before I can. I think I'm missing some of them." He scraped more of the salty buildup away, concentrating on the task at hand to the exclusion of the world around him.
The box was almost clean when the chill of Ghean's arrival swept over him. Lorhen looked up, popping his neck as she entered with an empty champagne flute in hand and dropped into the chair beside his. "Well? Have you cracked the secrets of the universe yet?"
"I didn't know that was in my job description. Does cleaning up a stone box count?"
"Only if you get it opened." Ghean reached out to touch one scarred fingertip against the side of the box and tsked. "You scratched it."
Lorhen set the box on the table, finding the pressure points on the sides. "It's been underwater for aeons. The scratches were already there. I was careful, Mary. I could only find four indentations. I hope there aren't any more." The box the Book was in had seven.
Ghean shook her head. "Probably not." Michelle was across the room, examining the stylus, leaving Lorhen and Ghean more or less alone for the moment. "Three or four were average," she murmured. "The more points, the more secure the box. Even the ones in the library only had six. I never saw one with seven."
"Seven what?" Michelle asked, returning to their table.
"Dwarves," Ghean said lightly. "You should have some champagne, Michelle."
"No, thanks. It tickles my nose."
Ghean clicked her tongue in disappointment. The sound masked the low hiss as Lorhen found the right pattern and the stone box slid open, a hairline fracture appearing in the stone. For a few seconds, he stared at the break in the white stone, then he lifted his head, looking at Ghean, whose whole body had gone rigid with anticipation. His own hands were suddenly cold as he pushed the box a few inches toward her. "Would you like the pleasure, Doctor Kostani?"
She put the champagne flute down and rested her fingertips on the box's lid, whispering, "It could be empty."
"It could be." Lorhen's voice rose and he struggled not to laugh with excitement. "Devoid of all but hope."
"This is not Pandora's box, Lor—Logan."
"Schroedinger's, then," Lorhen whispered. "The box is neither empty nor full until it's opened."
"If a cat jumps out of here," Ghean said severely, "I'm going to scream."
"If you don't open it, I'm going to scream." Michelle stood on the other side of the table, fists held so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. Ghean shot her a maniacal smile, then bit her lower lip, holding her breath as she slid the box halfway open. For a few seconds they all stared into the box, speechless, until Michelle whispered, "Holy
shit. Holy shit."
It was as if she'd broken a spell. Ghean suddenly shrieked, flinging her hands in the air, and launched herself into Lorhen's arms. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Lorhen spun her, laughing with triumph. Heads snapped around and people turned to their table, watching them whirl as he crowed, "There's your proof, Mary. There's your civilization!"
"Put me down, put me down!" she shouted, laughing. "I want to look at it! I can't believe it!"
Lorhen laughed, setting the tiny woman back on her feet, and leaned behind her to grin down at the neatly stacked papers. Ragar's handwriting filling the top page in small, fine print. Michelle sat down hard in her chair, staring incredulously at the papers. "Writing," she said wonderingly. "My God, look at the paper. Look how fine it is. Just look at it."
"We are," Ghean beamed. Anne pushed her way through the gathering crowd to gape down at the tightly packed papers.
"Jesus Christ, that survived? My God. What's that?" she asked as Ghean opened the box the rest of the way.
Nestled at the end of the box was a thin piece of stone, sectioning off a narrow length of space. Metal glinted there, and Ghean worked it out of its resting place, tipping a bone handle up and pulling the knife out of the box. Under age-induced tarnish, the blade glinted dull silver, and Ghean's eyes widened. "Steel," she whispered. "He had a steel knife."
"It can't be," Michelle said, disbelieving, and snatched up a soft cloth to place the knife on as Ghean handed it over and took a little step backward, hand pressed against her mouth.
Lorhen caught her as she swayed. "There's your civilization," he repeated, into her hair, voice soft. "You did it. There's your proof." Someone pushed in front of Ghean, looking wonderingly at the discovery. The noise level rose dramatically as the knife was carefully handed around. Ghean caught Lorhen's hand and pulled him away from the find, out into the hall, letting the door bump closed behind her.
"You did it," she corrected, falling into her native tongue. "Lorhen, you did it. You found it. Writing, a journal, and a knife! A steel knife!"