I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider
etc.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
================================================== The Last Revelation Part II: The Rainbow Serpent by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) ==================================================
Chapter 1
"Me and Jean. We've always sort of covered each other's behinds. Should the matter be that someone had snuck into a library somewhere and messed up the place, I'd be there, claiming he had been with me. Or, when Katharine Barret of The Natural History Museum of London put me through hell trying to find out where a certain vial of embalming fluid had disappeared, Jean, writing by request from Paris, pointed out a list of facts that cleared my reputation. Of course, it had been me, no question about that. I would be, and am, a talented thief, but rarely use my abilities. After that incident he sent me a postcard addressed to "the one who could mug Mona Lisa but is too moralist to do it." One could hardly have called me a moralist when I was younger and beginning my adventuring career. I used to be a real pain for my colleagues - real scavenger, ready to take advantage of anyone's success and steal the prize. I was cynical, young and hungry for fame. Looking back to those years that I studied in Chicago university and met Jean, I feel a bit sad. I was so young I hadn't had time to be lonely yet. So many things have changed since then.
Dating back to those times, I was just like liebe Werner von Croy is nowadays, pardon my sarcasm. The way I worked and my individuality were what eventually lead to the parting of my and Jean's ways. I'd hardly call him a lover as it is a degrading term for a male companion.
He's always been there, in the background, but we never discussed our relationship since it ended. It sounds surprising, knowing what a good team we were. It all began years ago in Peru."
Dasca Forest
Pisac, near Vilcabamba
Peru 1989
"Professor Murray?" a gasping voice with a distinctive French accent made the old archaeologist turn around.
"Yes, young man? Jean, was it?"
The young man nodded, waiting for his lungs to calm down. The reddish dust, the heat and the long run from the dig had made him nearly hyperventilate.
"Professor Murray, we've found something. Something really important that you should see."
Professor Murray smiled at his enthusiasm.
"Is this your view on the subject or did Carli send you? Jean, haven't I warned you youngsters about trying too hard?"
Jean looked slightly embarrassed. The blond-haired Frenchman pushed a dusty, uncombed lock of hair behind his ear and dug out something from his pocket. It was a tiny gold idol.
"Professor Sandringham sent me. There are plenty of these. We found a pot."
Professor Murray interrupted him.
"An amphora, Jean."
"Amphora," Jean repeated quickly and returned his attention to the muddy idol.
"You found an amphora, and what?" professor Murray helped. Jean spoke good English, but archaeology slang was something he definitely should prep on.
"We found a pot full of these. Professor Sandringham says the amphorapot has something that needs reading."
Unsure of what Jean-Yves had meant with 'reading', Professor Murray grabbed his brimmed hat and put it on.
"Hold on a minute, Jean. Have a glass of water while I gather my things. I wasn't expecting that you'd need me today over at the digs so this will take awhile. Oh yes, could you please wake my assistant up and tell her it's time to go."
Every summer, Professor Murray employed his brightest student from those studying the four year period, a bachelor's degree in archaeology as their goal, as his research assistant. The summer post was very highly coveted, and you had to work your way to it. Besides a sense of duty you needed natural talents for field work. The research assistant was nearly always a fourth-year student. A couple of years ago there had been a second-year student, an exceptionally bright young man from Canada. Nevertheless, the best student got the post. The university had three ongoing digs at the moment, two in Nevada and one in Peru. Professor Murray, the head of the faculty, naturally travelled to the most important one of them to lead the dig. The other archaeologist working on the dig, besides a bunch of university students, was Carli Sandringham, teacher of cultural anthropology at the same university.
This year had been exceptional in many ways. Firstly, the university's financial problems had forced them to end the digs in Cambodia. And, for the second time in history, Professor Murray had chosen a second year- student as his assistant. That had caused a lot of complaints at first, but most whining mouths had chosen silence after learning who the assistant was. Of course, not everyone knew her very well. There were over two hundred archaeology majors in the university, and one couldn't possibly know them all.
Jean-Yves DuCarmine, a talented but a little too careless student, had only gotten a digger's job in Peru, and had been waiting to meet the assistant ever since they had arrived. He was curious - like people in the nineteenth century who paid to see a freak show, he had to admit. Who was this super- talented girl, who, judging by the rumours, had never studied archaeology before signing in to Chicago, a difficult school to get into. That couldn't be true. She had probably done some intensive studying on her own.
Jean watched Professor Murray enter his trailer and close the door. He was left on the clearing in the Peruvian forest where the research team's accommodation had been arranged. They all slept in a trailers, but these trailers that Professor Murray and Professor Sandringham stayed in, were a lot bigger and a lot newer. Remembering what the Professor had asked him to do, Jean tapped off mud from his dark red T-shirt, and walked up to a trailer parked a off the main group: the trailer with the small laserprinted sign: Research Assistant Lara Croft.
A sharp knock on the trailer door woke Lara Croft up. She got up from the bed, nipping a beetle off her pillow in the process. She pulled on a pair of tennis socks, and tiptoed to the door. She opened the light door and was greeted with a relaxed smile.
"Yes?"
"Professor Murray sent me to tell you that we have to go," Jean explained, blinking in the afternoon sun and sounding, in his own opinion, very helpful. He was blinking so hard he didn't see very clearly. He took a step higher on the trailer stairs to get out of the scroching sunlight. and stopped at his feet.
Feeling like a boy in his half-puberty, Jean felt a sudden urge to whistle. The person standing in the doorway was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. Dressed in baggy beige shorts, very unsensually dirty tennis socks and a form-fitting white cotton shirt, she looked like no French girl. Her long, slightly reddishly brown hair had been braided but obviously she had misplaced the ribbon used in tying the ends. She had sharp, distinctive facial features, and big, brownish eyes. Jean shook his head in attempt to shake of some of the awe he was feeling and decided to start a conversation.
"We have found something at the dig."
Lara smiled mildly but warmly and made an inviting gesture. "Come on in. Good old Murray will spend at least an hour trying to find his gear." She shot a judging glance at him. "You look exhausted - don't let me be a terrible host, help yourself to some juice. The carton's in the fridge."
She sounded organized, and due to the accent Jean decided she must've been from England. he climbed into the trailer. Every table was filled with books, and arcs of paper full of scribbled hieroglyphs and symbols had taken over the floor. QuickShut bags with amphora pieces had been tossed to a shoebox under the table. A lonely red bra hung from a cupboard doorknob.
"Sorry about the mess. I worked all night last night. I'm not keen on all this heat. I don't believe I caught your name.?" Lara asked conversationally, trying to sound friendly. She was tired and hungry, but when duty called, she never whined.
"Jean," Jean said, dusting a chair and sitting down as Lara started gathering her research equipment.
"Just Jean?" Lara asked, filling a bottle from the water tank.
"Jean-Yves DuCarmine, Miss Croft."
Lara turned hastily. "Lara," she said and then returned to fussing around.
Jean leaned on his elbows and tried to make sense of a carving that the woman had written down on a piece of a brown envelope. "I hope I didn't wake you up. Professor Murray said that you might be."
"I do sleep during the day and work during the night." Lara cut her off, pulling a pair of boots behind a cupboard.
"You have a quite a luxurious trailer." Jean commented, hoping she would not take offence.
"Thank you. Could you please put that down," Lara pointed at the book Jean had picked up and started thumbing through. "I don't want anyone to mess with my stuff. That's an old book, please be careful."
Jean looked at her, a bit annoyed. "I'm an archaeology major like you. A second year student just like you. Please don't start bossing me around."
Lara grinned playfully. "Does that mean you won't obey?"
Who was this woman? Who was this woman who had the same privileges and education as him and yet she dared challenge him? Still, she was obviously joking and Jean left it at that.
While Jean's mind was racing, Lara had put on her boots, spread some suncream on her cheeks, and grabbed a worn-out brown backpack. Now she was headed for the door.
"You coming, Jean-Yves?"
Jean rose, already missing the soft armchair.
They arrived at the excavation site as the sun was going down, and the first nightly sounds of crickets had started singing. Lara and Professor Murray went to talk to Professor Sandringham, and Jean came along, unsure yet if he was supposed to.
Professor Graham Murray was delighted as he examined the amphora in Dr. Sandringham's tent. The amphora was massive, filled with delicate carvings obviously signaling that they were drawing near something really worth finding. One of the gold idols, in his opinion, looked curious, but he didn't manage to get hold of his thought long enough to realize what it could be.
Lara was sitting crosslegged on the ground, nipping off beetles and examining the idol with Professor Murray. Jean stayed in the doorway.
Professor Murray remembered him suddenly.
"Jean-Yves, come on in. You have to see this, as you did such a wonderful work with your essay on the sacrificial rituals of the Incas."
Lara cleared her throat and Jean looked puzzled.
"Professor Murray, that was my paper," Lara stated, and returned her gaze back to the idol.
The professor laughed. "So it was, indeed. I apologize. Jean wrote an excellent essay on the role of women in the Inca society."
Lara turned to look at Jean, a bit surprised. Jean couldn't help but smile a little. He knew he had somehow earned a point in Lara Croft's eyes. He entered the tent and dared himself to sit next to Lara. Feeling like a schoolboy, Jean leaned closer to Lara.
"It's a marvellous piece of work," she admired, and passed the artefact to Jean.
He seemed like an okay guy. At least he wasn't one of those arrogant brats who thought archaeology was dull and boring but worth studying because all the chicks were fit after spending their summers digging in graves. She kind of liked his French accent. Yet the truth was that she hardly had time for new acquaintances. Too much work to do. Besides, her own project was going nowhere.
Lara bit her lip and turned to Professor Murray. "Could this be used as a key?"
The professor looked at her, a bit suprised at her revelation.
"I don't know. I don't think so. Look at the sharp edges. The Incas didn't have the technology to make locks that would require winding movements. It's downright impossible."
"I think it's possible," Jean said to no one in particular, trying to sound polite. No one seemed to have heard it. Except for Lara, who gave him an annoyed look, stood up, and left the tent.
They spent three hours in the dig, and Professor Sandringham decided to spend the night at the site. Lara and Professor Murray returned to their accommodations, and Jean was also feeling a bit tired. Half-past eight, when the last bird had finished its final note for the day and darkness had started to rest in the forest, Professor Sandringham told everyone else to leave for the trailers and go to bed except for Jean.
"Jean, I need to ask you a favor. Graham asked me to send him the copied carvings as soon as the drawer has finished, and she finished earlier than I thought. I know you can drive, could you please take these to Professor Murray?"
'Oh, great, overtime,' Jean thought, but grabbed the pile of documents anyway, along with Carli Sandringham's car keys. She had rented a four- wheel-drive, a steady land rover. Jean shut off his lamp and covered his square of the dig, and threw his bag to the backseat of the car. He started the engine and headed for a muddy jungle road that wiggled its way through the thick forest.
Professor Murray was fast asleep when Jean arrived. No wonder he didn't reply to his quiet knock. Standing out in the chilling darkness, he wondered what to do. Not letting himself hesitate, he walked up to Lara's trailer.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
================================================== The Last Revelation Part II: The Rainbow Serpent by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) ==================================================
Chapter 1
"Me and Jean. We've always sort of covered each other's behinds. Should the matter be that someone had snuck into a library somewhere and messed up the place, I'd be there, claiming he had been with me. Or, when Katharine Barret of The Natural History Museum of London put me through hell trying to find out where a certain vial of embalming fluid had disappeared, Jean, writing by request from Paris, pointed out a list of facts that cleared my reputation. Of course, it had been me, no question about that. I would be, and am, a talented thief, but rarely use my abilities. After that incident he sent me a postcard addressed to "the one who could mug Mona Lisa but is too moralist to do it." One could hardly have called me a moralist when I was younger and beginning my adventuring career. I used to be a real pain for my colleagues - real scavenger, ready to take advantage of anyone's success and steal the prize. I was cynical, young and hungry for fame. Looking back to those years that I studied in Chicago university and met Jean, I feel a bit sad. I was so young I hadn't had time to be lonely yet. So many things have changed since then.
Dating back to those times, I was just like liebe Werner von Croy is nowadays, pardon my sarcasm. The way I worked and my individuality were what eventually lead to the parting of my and Jean's ways. I'd hardly call him a lover as it is a degrading term for a male companion.
He's always been there, in the background, but we never discussed our relationship since it ended. It sounds surprising, knowing what a good team we were. It all began years ago in Peru."
Dasca Forest
Pisac, near Vilcabamba
Peru 1989
"Professor Murray?" a gasping voice with a distinctive French accent made the old archaeologist turn around.
"Yes, young man? Jean, was it?"
The young man nodded, waiting for his lungs to calm down. The reddish dust, the heat and the long run from the dig had made him nearly hyperventilate.
"Professor Murray, we've found something. Something really important that you should see."
Professor Murray smiled at his enthusiasm.
"Is this your view on the subject or did Carli send you? Jean, haven't I warned you youngsters about trying too hard?"
Jean looked slightly embarrassed. The blond-haired Frenchman pushed a dusty, uncombed lock of hair behind his ear and dug out something from his pocket. It was a tiny gold idol.
"Professor Sandringham sent me. There are plenty of these. We found a pot."
Professor Murray interrupted him.
"An amphora, Jean."
"Amphora," Jean repeated quickly and returned his attention to the muddy idol.
"You found an amphora, and what?" professor Murray helped. Jean spoke good English, but archaeology slang was something he definitely should prep on.
"We found a pot full of these. Professor Sandringham says the amphorapot has something that needs reading."
Unsure of what Jean-Yves had meant with 'reading', Professor Murray grabbed his brimmed hat and put it on.
"Hold on a minute, Jean. Have a glass of water while I gather my things. I wasn't expecting that you'd need me today over at the digs so this will take awhile. Oh yes, could you please wake my assistant up and tell her it's time to go."
Every summer, Professor Murray employed his brightest student from those studying the four year period, a bachelor's degree in archaeology as their goal, as his research assistant. The summer post was very highly coveted, and you had to work your way to it. Besides a sense of duty you needed natural talents for field work. The research assistant was nearly always a fourth-year student. A couple of years ago there had been a second-year student, an exceptionally bright young man from Canada. Nevertheless, the best student got the post. The university had three ongoing digs at the moment, two in Nevada and one in Peru. Professor Murray, the head of the faculty, naturally travelled to the most important one of them to lead the dig. The other archaeologist working on the dig, besides a bunch of university students, was Carli Sandringham, teacher of cultural anthropology at the same university.
This year had been exceptional in many ways. Firstly, the university's financial problems had forced them to end the digs in Cambodia. And, for the second time in history, Professor Murray had chosen a second year- student as his assistant. That had caused a lot of complaints at first, but most whining mouths had chosen silence after learning who the assistant was. Of course, not everyone knew her very well. There were over two hundred archaeology majors in the university, and one couldn't possibly know them all.
Jean-Yves DuCarmine, a talented but a little too careless student, had only gotten a digger's job in Peru, and had been waiting to meet the assistant ever since they had arrived. He was curious - like people in the nineteenth century who paid to see a freak show, he had to admit. Who was this super- talented girl, who, judging by the rumours, had never studied archaeology before signing in to Chicago, a difficult school to get into. That couldn't be true. She had probably done some intensive studying on her own.
Jean watched Professor Murray enter his trailer and close the door. He was left on the clearing in the Peruvian forest where the research team's accommodation had been arranged. They all slept in a trailers, but these trailers that Professor Murray and Professor Sandringham stayed in, were a lot bigger and a lot newer. Remembering what the Professor had asked him to do, Jean tapped off mud from his dark red T-shirt, and walked up to a trailer parked a off the main group: the trailer with the small laserprinted sign: Research Assistant Lara Croft.
A sharp knock on the trailer door woke Lara Croft up. She got up from the bed, nipping a beetle off her pillow in the process. She pulled on a pair of tennis socks, and tiptoed to the door. She opened the light door and was greeted with a relaxed smile.
"Yes?"
"Professor Murray sent me to tell you that we have to go," Jean explained, blinking in the afternoon sun and sounding, in his own opinion, very helpful. He was blinking so hard he didn't see very clearly. He took a step higher on the trailer stairs to get out of the scroching sunlight. and stopped at his feet.
Feeling like a boy in his half-puberty, Jean felt a sudden urge to whistle. The person standing in the doorway was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. Dressed in baggy beige shorts, very unsensually dirty tennis socks and a form-fitting white cotton shirt, she looked like no French girl. Her long, slightly reddishly brown hair had been braided but obviously she had misplaced the ribbon used in tying the ends. She had sharp, distinctive facial features, and big, brownish eyes. Jean shook his head in attempt to shake of some of the awe he was feeling and decided to start a conversation.
"We have found something at the dig."
Lara smiled mildly but warmly and made an inviting gesture. "Come on in. Good old Murray will spend at least an hour trying to find his gear." She shot a judging glance at him. "You look exhausted - don't let me be a terrible host, help yourself to some juice. The carton's in the fridge."
She sounded organized, and due to the accent Jean decided she must've been from England. he climbed into the trailer. Every table was filled with books, and arcs of paper full of scribbled hieroglyphs and symbols had taken over the floor. QuickShut bags with amphora pieces had been tossed to a shoebox under the table. A lonely red bra hung from a cupboard doorknob.
"Sorry about the mess. I worked all night last night. I'm not keen on all this heat. I don't believe I caught your name.?" Lara asked conversationally, trying to sound friendly. She was tired and hungry, but when duty called, she never whined.
"Jean," Jean said, dusting a chair and sitting down as Lara started gathering her research equipment.
"Just Jean?" Lara asked, filling a bottle from the water tank.
"Jean-Yves DuCarmine, Miss Croft."
Lara turned hastily. "Lara," she said and then returned to fussing around.
Jean leaned on his elbows and tried to make sense of a carving that the woman had written down on a piece of a brown envelope. "I hope I didn't wake you up. Professor Murray said that you might be."
"I do sleep during the day and work during the night." Lara cut her off, pulling a pair of boots behind a cupboard.
"You have a quite a luxurious trailer." Jean commented, hoping she would not take offence.
"Thank you. Could you please put that down," Lara pointed at the book Jean had picked up and started thumbing through. "I don't want anyone to mess with my stuff. That's an old book, please be careful."
Jean looked at her, a bit annoyed. "I'm an archaeology major like you. A second year student just like you. Please don't start bossing me around."
Lara grinned playfully. "Does that mean you won't obey?"
Who was this woman? Who was this woman who had the same privileges and education as him and yet she dared challenge him? Still, she was obviously joking and Jean left it at that.
While Jean's mind was racing, Lara had put on her boots, spread some suncream on her cheeks, and grabbed a worn-out brown backpack. Now she was headed for the door.
"You coming, Jean-Yves?"
Jean rose, already missing the soft armchair.
They arrived at the excavation site as the sun was going down, and the first nightly sounds of crickets had started singing. Lara and Professor Murray went to talk to Professor Sandringham, and Jean came along, unsure yet if he was supposed to.
Professor Graham Murray was delighted as he examined the amphora in Dr. Sandringham's tent. The amphora was massive, filled with delicate carvings obviously signaling that they were drawing near something really worth finding. One of the gold idols, in his opinion, looked curious, but he didn't manage to get hold of his thought long enough to realize what it could be.
Lara was sitting crosslegged on the ground, nipping off beetles and examining the idol with Professor Murray. Jean stayed in the doorway.
Professor Murray remembered him suddenly.
"Jean-Yves, come on in. You have to see this, as you did such a wonderful work with your essay on the sacrificial rituals of the Incas."
Lara cleared her throat and Jean looked puzzled.
"Professor Murray, that was my paper," Lara stated, and returned her gaze back to the idol.
The professor laughed. "So it was, indeed. I apologize. Jean wrote an excellent essay on the role of women in the Inca society."
Lara turned to look at Jean, a bit surprised. Jean couldn't help but smile a little. He knew he had somehow earned a point in Lara Croft's eyes. He entered the tent and dared himself to sit next to Lara. Feeling like a schoolboy, Jean leaned closer to Lara.
"It's a marvellous piece of work," she admired, and passed the artefact to Jean.
He seemed like an okay guy. At least he wasn't one of those arrogant brats who thought archaeology was dull and boring but worth studying because all the chicks were fit after spending their summers digging in graves. She kind of liked his French accent. Yet the truth was that she hardly had time for new acquaintances. Too much work to do. Besides, her own project was going nowhere.
Lara bit her lip and turned to Professor Murray. "Could this be used as a key?"
The professor looked at her, a bit suprised at her revelation.
"I don't know. I don't think so. Look at the sharp edges. The Incas didn't have the technology to make locks that would require winding movements. It's downright impossible."
"I think it's possible," Jean said to no one in particular, trying to sound polite. No one seemed to have heard it. Except for Lara, who gave him an annoyed look, stood up, and left the tent.
They spent three hours in the dig, and Professor Sandringham decided to spend the night at the site. Lara and Professor Murray returned to their accommodations, and Jean was also feeling a bit tired. Half-past eight, when the last bird had finished its final note for the day and darkness had started to rest in the forest, Professor Sandringham told everyone else to leave for the trailers and go to bed except for Jean.
"Jean, I need to ask you a favor. Graham asked me to send him the copied carvings as soon as the drawer has finished, and she finished earlier than I thought. I know you can drive, could you please take these to Professor Murray?"
'Oh, great, overtime,' Jean thought, but grabbed the pile of documents anyway, along with Carli Sandringham's car keys. She had rented a four- wheel-drive, a steady land rover. Jean shut off his lamp and covered his square of the dig, and threw his bag to the backseat of the car. He started the engine and headed for a muddy jungle road that wiggled its way through the thick forest.
Professor Murray was fast asleep when Jean arrived. No wonder he didn't reply to his quiet knock. Standing out in the chilling darkness, he wondered what to do. Not letting himself hesitate, he walked up to Lara's trailer.