While Milo set up the projector screen, Eleanor found a seat. The workers all seemed agitated, as though they all had better things to do than watch a presentation.
They probably do have something better to do, thought Eleanor. She looked around subtly at the unamused faces around her. They were all gazing at Milo with varying levels of contempt.
Sylvia and Audrey climbed the staircase to the presenting floor and leaned against the rail, waiting. Sylvia looked eager with her notepad out, but Audrey appeared disinterested.
"How about some slides?" Milo asked after he finished setting up. He walked over to the projector and waited for a response from his audience. Apart from Audrey popping her gum, he didn't get one.
"The first slide is a depiction of a creature so frightening, the sailors were said to be driven mad by the mere sight of it!" Milo announced. He inserted his first slide into the machine with gusto. The image that appeared on the screen was less inspired.
The picture was of Milo himself wearing a swimsuit and flippers, complete with a dinosaur floatation device around his waist. His cat, Fluffy, was behind him reaching eagerly for the goldfish hooked on his rod. Eleanor recognized the picture as her own handiwork. She had taken it a few months before when she and Milo had made an afternoon trip to the coast.
"Geez, I used to take lunch money from guys like this," Eleanor heard Audrey mutter to the Italian man next to her. He nodded and rolled his eyes.
Milo frantically pulled the slide out and searched the other slides in his hands. He couldn't seem to find the one he was looking for. As the giggle built, Eleanor felt herself reddening on Milo's behalf. Finally, he pulled a different slide and put it in the projector.
"Ok, this is an illustration of the Leviathan: the creature guarding the entrance to Atlantis."
The Italian man interrupted.
"With something like that, I would have white wine, I think."
The others laughed again, but Milo was prepared.
"It's a mythical sea serpent. He's described in the Book of Job. The Bible says, 'Out of his mouth go burning lights…sparks of fire shoot out.'"
"So," Rourke cut in. "We find this masterpiece. Then what?"
"When do we dig?!"
A small, round man with some sort of goggles on sprung out of the crowd excitedly. Eleanor recognized him as the geologist from the crew files: Moliere.
"Actually, we don't have to dig," Milo replied. He turned off the projector and pulled a piece of charcoal out of his pocket. He began to draw a picture on the projector screen.
"You see, according to the journal, the path to Atlantis will take us down a tunnel and we'll come up a curve into an air pocket. Kind of like the grease trap in your sink." He stepped away from his drawing proudly.
"Cartographer, linguist, plumber," Helga said to Rourke. "Hard to believe he's still single."
Eleanor reddened again.
"Captain, you'd better see this," called the helmsman. Rourke dismissed the workers and approached the wheel. Helga and Milo followed. Eleanor remained on the presenting floor, but watched them carefully.
"Give me exterior lights."
Floodlights lit the sea floor in front of them. They were able to see through the huge panoramic windows around the front of the vessel. Even Eleanor had a good view.
"Look at that," Helga marveled. The ground outside looked like a ship graveyard.
"There are ships here from every era," mused Milo. Sure enough, the graveyard seemed to double as a museum for marine crafts.
"I wonder if the journal says anything about this."
Milo stepped away from the wheel and picked up the journal. He wrinkled his nose and squinted at the page.
"Is it in Atlantian?" Eleanor asked, approaching. At the word 'Atlantian,' Sylvia, who was still nearby, perked up and walked over to them.
"Do you mind if I listen? I haven't quite perfected the Atlantian accent."
"Neither have I," Milo admitted. He cleared his throat. "Predeshtem lout nog-"
"Nug," corrected Sylvia. She pointed at one of the characters on the page.
"Nug nah geb," Milo affirmed. "Enter the lair of the Leviathan. There you will find the path to the gateway."
Sylvia looked contemplative and nodded.
"We must be getting close," she said.
"Commander?" called a woman from the intercom. The voice was flat and gravelly. "Commander?"
"Yes, Mrs. Packard," Rourke answered. "What is it?"
"I'm picking up something on the hydrophone I think you should hear."