A/N: SO SORRY! I forgot about the hour. Nevertheless, here is the new chapter. A special thanks to MinaMausi for being the first person to follow the story. I'm so happy you are liking it. The rest of the readers feel free to hit the follow and/or fav buttons if you feel like it. Thank you again and I hope you like this.
A/N2: The sentences that begin with the quote marks (") are meant to say that the phrase was said through a speaker.
Washington D.C.
Milo had gone from having a terrible day to a great one. Mr. Whitmore, an old friend of his grandpa had just given him the chance of making his dream come true. It was official, he would sail to look up the lost city of Atlantis. Morning didn't come fast enough for him but by the time it did, he was wide awake and up already. He took breakfast with Mr. Whitmore speaking eagerly of what they could find. Crumbling buildings, writings, maybe some broken pottery. All of invaluable archaeological worth.
After eating something they went to the pier, boarding one of the biggest ships Milo had ever seen. It was already fully loaded so it took but an hour for them to sail. An hour passed uneventful and then the sickness began. The young man found himself running as if his life depended on it directly to the deck's lifeline. He spent there a great deal of time not noticing the woman a couple of feet away. She, however, saw him from the first moment. He spent there at least half an hour before she approached Milo.
– You are unwell.
– Excuse me? – he laboriously looked at her.
He then proceeded to empty his stomach once again in the ocean.
– Here, – she offered him a spoon, – hold this.
Milo complied. From a small satchel she extracted a vial of purple liquid which she poured in the spoon, just enough to fill it.
– Take it, – she ordered.
– What… ?
– Do not ask until you have swallowed it.
Milo looked at the woman. She dressed with a uniform (like everyone else, really). She looked younger than him but there was an air of power and authority, almost regalness around her. Besides, he was in no position to argue so he obeyed. The liquid looked a little thick but felt like water in his mouth leaving a sweet and fresh flavor behind. Almost instantly he felt a lot better. The young cartographer breathed deeply with relief.
– Thanks, – Milo said to the girl who had been watching him. – My name is Milo, Milo Thatch.
He offered his hand and, a bit reluctantly, she took it.
– Eydís, – she answered plainly but with a warm smile.
– Eydís? Where's that name from? – he asked curiously.
– I believe you call it Asgard.
There was no sarcasm in her voice just honest surprise, confusion even.
– Asgard? Oh! I see. It's from the old Scandinavian mythology. Isn't it? – he looked exited.
Eydís kept her smile and nodded.
– Oh! Wow! Who named you?
– I believe my mother did, – the odd question making the Princess begin to enjoy the man's reaction.
– So, she likes mythology, huh?
– She enjoys history very much. Yes.
– Oh my God, sorry, sometimes I get carried away, – he scratched his head.
– It is understandable. Do not let it trouble you.
– Uhmm… Anyways,… here's your spoon, – he gave it back. – What was that?
– Medicine, – she answered. – An old family recipe. My… friend guessed I would need it before the end.
She held the lifeline with both hands looking at the ocean.
– Before the end?
– Well,… the end of our journey that is.
Milo looked at the young woman not really knowing how to talk to any females for real. Yet, with Eydís he felt both nervous and calm at the same time so he kept going.
– Your friends were at the pier to wish you luck?
– More or less. One could say that I left everyone and everything I knew before I got on this ship.
– Yo… you ran away? – he struggled a little bewildered.
She laughed.
– No. I have their blessings but it was impossible for them to be here when I boarded.
– Oh, I see. Makes sense. I… is this your first time?
– To do what?
– Travel… travel alone.
– To travel, no. To travel alone for an extended period of time on unknown grounds, yes.
– Unknown? I thought that soldiers traveled all around the world.
– Uhmm, yes, more or less, but I have not been a soldier for long, – she hesitated the slightest but her response was honest.
– Right! Right! – he seemed nervous. – Uhm… ho… how old are you?
He tried to sound casual but the involuntary high pitch at the end of his question betrayed his anxiousness.
– Old enough to be here, – she dodged not wanting to give too much away.
– Right! Right! – he repeated. – Uhm… wh… what division?
– Kitchen, – she answered immediately.
– I think you'd be better with the medical division, – he ventured.
She laughed.
– That is one of my greatest weaknesses. I have never fully studied medical care. It would be a disaster if I ever ended up there. It would only cause grief and sorrow, – she said humorously.
Milo thought it funny how she talked. All too proper and on the verge of poetic, archaic even. But it was a bit captivating the way she looked at the ocean. Almost as if it were her first time there.
– You like the ocean? – he finally brought himself to ask.
– Yes. It reminds me of home, – she made a pause. – Besides, it is so appalling to watch a force of nature from such a short distance.
– Force of nature?
– Do you not consider it as such? – she asked amazed and looking at him intently with her baby blue eyes.
– Well, now that you mention it… it is indeed.
– Is this your first time on a ship as well?
– Yeah and you caught me on my embarrassing reaction to this chance.
– There is nothing to be ashamed of Milo. It is natural and comprehensible.
Now it was his turn to laugh.
– I guess, but still I wish you hadn't seen me like that.
– I will keep your secret if you want.
– Thanks.
– "All hands to the launch bay, – called a bored voice from the speaker. – "And to whoever took the "L" from the "Motor Pool" sign, ha ha, we are all very amused.
– Oh, I think that's our cue.
– I believe so Milo. I look forward to our next encounter.
Eydís made a small head reverence and left a little confused Mr. Thatch still on deck. In return, Milo followed her figure until she disappeared around a corner. He lifted his bag and found himself looking for directions. Along the way he met with Helga once again. He also got acquainted with the Kitchen's division chief, Cookie and the demolition expert, Vinny.
Finally, he found Mr. Whitmore at the launching bay who presented the young man to Commander Rourke. The broad man looked in such a perfect physical condition in comparison with his age that it awed Milo until he spoke nonsense about the journal. Just then did Milo thought that perhaps he wasn't someone to get all excited about. Yet, the view of the whole submarine was astounding. There was so much going around. People came and went (though they mostly just went into the submarine). Machinery was loaded along with the provisions and other equipment. It was amazing to think that the submarine could fit so many cars and trucks and people and still have space for the control panels and other internal infrastructure.
Rourke excused himself and Milo ran after him.
– Bye Mr. Whitmore, – was the last thing he got to say.
Milo followed Rourke to the bridge, aiming for the great observatory right at the front of the sub. From there he still waved at Mr. Whitmore. A great shake came afterwards and then hitting the water almost instantly, the machine slowly sinking in the water and allowing him an even grander view of the ocean. For a moment there, he thought of what Eydís had told him and he smiled.
– A force of nature indeed, – he said under his breath.
That made him think that he really didn't know anyone on board. Sure he had just been acquainted to the Commander and he had spoken with Helga but none of them really made him feel comfortable but at least there was someone he actually felt good with in the same space. He had to ask someone the way to the kitchens so he could talk with his new friend again.
After that, Milo had found his way to the dormitories without too much trouble and, by the time he entered his room, he already knew where to, most likely, find Eydís. Satisfied he laid down, wanting nothing more but a few hours sleep, but he hadn't even closed his eyes for ten seconds when a flashlight was lit right in front of him. The surprise was such that he bumped his head painfully with the upper bunk bed. The owner of the pair of eyes that watched him carefully said something that he couldn't get.
– Uhm… pardon me?
– YOU HAVE DISTURBED THE DIRT! – the funny man said with a french accent and coming down from his bed.
He then proceeded to remove the blanket from Milo's bed so he could see the dirt he was referring to. Turns out this strange little man had collected dirt from many countries around the world and thought that the perfect spot for his collection would be Milo's bed.
– What's it doing in my bed?
– YOU ASK TOO MANY QUESTIONS. WHO ARE YOU? WHO SENT YOU? SPEAK UP, – the short man said in quick succession.
Milo was confused and wasn't really able to think coherently enough to give any answers.
– BLEGH! I will know soon enough.
Then, without warning, he took Milo's hand and extracted a little flake from underneath one of his nails. He inspected it and began to give a very astonished Mr. Thatch a recount of his professional life as well as to give a couple personal details. Finally, he licked it and said.
– Linguist. THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! YOU MUST LEAVE AT ONCE! – the man yelled again piling Milo's things on the surprised boy's hands and proceeding to push him out of the room, – OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT!
Just then the young man collided with someone else. Due to the fact that his own coat was over his eyes, he had to take care of that first before encountering a very tall, colored and strong looking man.
– Uh-oh, you sat on the dirt, right? Molière, now, what have I told you about playing nice with other kids?
Molière was about to answer when, out of nowhere, the black man took out a soap bar.
– Get back. I got soap and I'm not afraid to use it.
Molière hissed.
– Back off with you! – he commanded while spanking the mole man with his towel. – Back to the pit from whence you came!
Molière crawled beneath his sheets and trembled at the sight of the muscled man. Then Milo's saviour introduced himself.
– The name is Sweet, Joshua Sweet. Medical office.
– Yeah, Milo Thatch.
– Milo Thatch, – he repeated. – You are my 3 o'clock.
Always with a smile, he put on his lab coat, his head mirror and drew a saw out of his bag.
– Well, no time like the present.
Milo was caught off guard, again.
– Oh boy.
– Nice, isn't it. The catalogue says this little beauty can saw through a fem in 28 seconds. I'm betting I can cut that time to half. Now get out your tongue and say: AAH!
– Oh, no I really… AAH! – Milo began with his excuse but Dr. Sweet took no notice about it.
– So where you from? – the doctor asked calmly but with the same quick pace this whole conversation had had.
– Aududa, – he answered trying to sound understandable but to no avail.
Surprisingly enough Sweet did understood and kept the chat going.
– Really? – he asked as he substituted the tongue depressor with a thermometer. – I got family up tha' way. Beuuutiful country up there. Do you do any fishing?
– Mmmhmhmmm – was his answer.
– Oh me? I hate fishing. I hate fish. Hate the taste, hate the smell, hate all in little bones. Kid, – Sweet continued as he took out two big measuring cups. – I'm gonna need you to fill this up.
Milo spat the thermometer from his mouth at the sight.
– WITH WHAT?!
– "A Milo Thatch please report to the bridge, – the woman on the speaker said at that precise moment.
Milo sighed in relief.
– Thank you, – he whispered. – Duh-uh, I mean, nice meeting you.
– Uh-huh, nice meeting you too, – the doctor called over as Milo ran for his life out of the room.