Chapter 1: Milo and Emily

Washington D.C.; October 11, 1914

It was a chilly autumn day in the capital city of the United States of America. Everyone was having a busy day, walking down the streets, riding in cars and horse drawn carriages for work, errands, going to school, or getting out to find a source of entertainment.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," a male voice said, from inside a museum. A car drove by, and we are switched to the inner rooms of the museum. Many visitors of all backgrounds were exploring the dinosaur exhibits filled with fossils and skeletons of the terrible lizards, but also other artifacts from ancient civilizations from around the world.

"First off, I'd like to thank this board for taking the time to hear my proposal. Now, we've all heard of the legend of Atlantis, a continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advanced civilization, possessing technology far beyond our own," the voice continued.

In the boiler room of the museum, the voice came from a young man in his early thirties. He had fair skin, light brown-blond hair, brown eyes, thick matching eyebrows and large rimmed glasses. He wore a white shirt, a red bow tie, a green vest, gray pants, and brown shoes. His name was Milo James Thatch, and he was a cartographer and linguist.

Today was a big day for him. He was preparing himself to give a presentation to the board of directors to help him fund an expedition to the legendary city of Atlantis.

Not too far from where Milo was practicing his presentation, a young woman in her late twenties to early thirties was sitting on a stool and watching her brother with enthusiasm.

This was Milo's younger sister, Emily. She was petite and slender, with long wavy waist-length dirty blonde hair held by a dark blue headband, chocolate brown eyes, thick black eyebrows, fair-pale skin, and red lips.

She wore a white blouse with rolled up sleeves to her elbows, a dark blue dress, grey stockings, and brown boots. The woman lived with her brother and worked as his assistant and janitor in the Smithsonian Museum. Emily had a bunch of notes in her hands which read her brother's speech and glanced up to read his lips.

Milo picked up his pointer stick to point at the bust of Plato and said, "That, according to our friend Plato here was suddenly struck by some cataclysmic event that sank it beneath the sea." He slammed the pointer into his palm, and tapped it against the glass of a fishbowl, startling the resident goldfish.

"Now, some of you may ask, why Atlantis?" the young man continued, bringing up a bunch of cards that read 'Atlantis' with a question mark sign in the middle. "It's just a myth, isn't it? Pure fantasy. Well, that is where you'd be wrong."

Milo removed the title card to show a photograph of Ancient Egypt with the Sphinx and pyramids.

"10,000 years before the Egyptians built the pyramids, Atlantis had electricity, advanced medicine, even the power of flight. Impossible, you say? Well, no. No, not for them," he said, flipping through all the cards to show other ancient cultures.

"Numerous ancient cultures all over the globe agree that Atlantis possessed a power source of some kind, more powerful than steam, than, than, coal. More powerful than our modern internal combustion engines. Gentlemen, I propose that we find Atlantis, find that power source and bring it back to the surface."

Milo flipped through to show a cut out picture that came from a book to show a priest holding an ancient book.

"Now, this is a page from an illuminated text that describe a book called The Shepherd's Journal said to have been a firsthand account of Atlantis and its exact whereabouts," he said.

Milo placed down his cards and the podium and squeezed through a gap between it and the chalkboard. He gestured the words written in chalk read, COAST OF IRELAND and above were the letters in Norse.

"Now, based on a centuries-old translation of a Norse text," Milo said, picking up a piece of chalk to point at the board, "historians have believed the Journal resides in Ireland." He goes over to his podium and picked up a heavy Viking shield, grunting at the weight. "But, after comparing the text to the runes on this Viking shield, I found that… That one of the letters had been mistranslated."

Emily's expression turned from curiosity to worry, with her eyes widening and a soft gasp emerged.

"So, by changing this letter and inserting the correct one," Milo rolled his sleeve up to his fist and erased the 'R' letter, "we find that The Shepherd's Journal, the key to Atlantis lies not in I… Ireland, gentlemen," he wrote a letter 'C' over where 'R' used to be, and finished, "but in Iceland."

"Pause for effect," he whispered to himself grinning and imagining to hear some clapping from the board members. "Gentlemen, uh," he placed the shield down in relief. "I'll take your questions now."

Emily grinned from reading her brother's speech. She signed 'clap' lifting both of her hands to the sides of her head with her fingers stretched out. The dirty blonde waved her hands and twisted them with her wrists.

Then, a telephone ringed in the room, alerting Milo. Emily grew confused by Milo's expression, wondering what he was hearing.

"Uh, would you gentlemen please excuse me for a moment?" Milo asked his "audience."

The young man faced the reclining chalkboard, and leaned across it to reach for the telephone. Laying across, he picked up the device and answered with a smile, "Cartography and Linguistics, Milo Thatch speaking."

The voice from the phone ranted angrily and made Milo frown.

"Yeah. Uh, just, just a second," the young man said, putting the phone on hold. He pushed himself up until he was back on the other side. The chalkboard spun around to show a drawn map of Iceland.

Milo walked over to his left and pulled on the cord. The lights turned on to reveal Milo's audience were skeletons, masks, and head busts wearing top hats. He walked towards the boiler and removed a mask.

"Pardon me, Mr. Hickenbottom," he said.

The young man stood in front of the boiler and noticed what needed to be fixed. He twisted a few dials to get the boiler to hiss. He grabbed a wrench, that was hanging nearby, and wacked the machine, starting it back up.

Milo hurried back and leaned over the chalkboard and picked up the phone. "How's that? Is that better?" he asked.

All he could hear was more angry ranting.

"Uh-huh. Yeah," Milo said. "You're welcome. All right, bye."

"And don't let it happen again," the voice on the phone, yelled.

Milo's expression was glum, but he shook it away, got back on his feet and went back to his presentation. He came back to the front, unaware that he had chalk markings on the front of his vest.

"Now, as you can see by the…" Milo looked down at his chalk-covered clothing in embarrassment. "By this, um, map…"

Oh dear, Emily signed with her fingers of 'O' and 'H' and crossed her arms, bunched her fists and placed them in front of her shoulders.

"Map, uh, that… That…" Milo came up with a quick problem-solving solution and got in front of the board to match the markings on his clothes to the board. "That I've drawn, I plotted the route that will take myself, my sister Emily, and a crew to the southern coast of Iceland to retrieve the Journal."

Then a cuckoo clock sounded on the wall, chiming 4:00.

"Ah, showtime," Milo said, brushing the chalk off his clothes and grabbing his scrolls and books.

"Well, this is it," he sighed with confidence. "I am finally getting out of the dungeon."

The young man turned back to the young woman as she gathered her books in her book bag and came up to him, smiling.

"How did my presentation sound Em?" Milo asked, as he signed to her.

It was great! Emily signed, placing her right hand to her chin and lowered it to her left hand. She bunched up her fists and signed with a grin. I knew that you would do such a great job! Grandpa would be so proud of you!

Aside from being siblings, Milo and Emily were best friends. Emily enjoyed helping Milo plan and come up with ideas for his presentation in Washington, D.C. And Milo was always there to help translate for her because of one thing... she was deaf.

When Emily was a year and a half old, she got really sick with a fever. After being sick for three weeks, she regained her health, but the disease destroyed her ability to hear, leaving her permanently deaf. After that, she was enrolled into the New York School for the Deaf to teach her how to communicate with sign language, and she used her hands to make signs to communicate with deaf people.

Despite not being able to hear, she also could not talk due to a speech disorder. No matter how hard she tries to speak, she couldn't produce a sound from her larynx, and thus she was mute.

Even though their boss Harcourt disliked her, due to her being a woman, deaf, and mute; he only allowed her to work with her brother and clean up around the museum as a janitor. Although the museum was all right, Emily dreamed of opening her own school for the deaf and blind, whether they were rich or poor, male or female. She wanted all people to have better opportunities like her grandfather gave her.

Their paternal grandfather, Thaddeus Thatch had raised his grandchildren after their parents, Augustus and Lucille were killed in a railway accident. Milo was only three years old and Emily was three months old at the time. Both Milo and Emily loved and adored their grandfather; he taught them about languages, history, and ancient cultures.

Milo went to his desk and picked up a photograph. The photograph was of Milo and Emily as children with their grandfather.

Both siblings smiled and a fond memory came back. Milo and Emily were taken into their grandfather's lap with the little boy's hand reaching out for the elderly man's pith helmet to try it on. Thaddeus took off his hat and placed it on his grandson's head.

Young Milo smiled and felt like a true adventurer. Then the hat plopped down and covered his eyes and the little boy frowned. Thaddeus and Emily chuckled at the moment.

Back in the present, Milo and Emily smiled fondly at the memory. Their grandfather had passed away recently, and they missed him very much.

Milo opened a pair of little doors to a shrine. It housed their grandfather's hat on a hat holder and beneath it were lit candles. Milo picked up the hat and placed it on his head, thinking he would finally fit in it. But the hat plopped down and covered his eyes, once again, which make him frown.

Emily began to giggle, placing her hand on her nose and grinned.

Then, a canister appeared in the mail chute. Milo lifted up his hat, took the canister and opened to find a letter. He read it outloud;

"Dear Mr. Thatch, this is to inform you that your meeting today has been moved up from 4:30 P.M. to 3:30 P.M."

Milo glanced up at the clock to see it was now at 4:05. "What?!" He said in shock.

Emily glanced over her brother's shoulder to read the letter and her eyes widened.

Then, another canister appeared. Emily took the canister and opened it to find another letter. She read through the letter, her eyes widened in shock and gave a quiet gasp.

"What's going on Em?" Milo asked.

Emily gestured to the letter before handing it to her brother. You're not gonna like this Milo, the dirty blonde signed. The young man took the letter and read the message:

"Dear Mr. Thatch, due to your absence, the board has voted to reject your proposal. Have a nice weekend. Mr. Harcourt's office."

"They can't do this to me!" Milo exclaimed angrily.

Those idiots! Emily angrily signed, placing her fist on her forehead and sticking up her pinkie.

Author's Note: To those who are curious about the bold wording from Emily, this is how she communicates when she uses sign language. I've been researching on the deaf community, read books, and watched videos of ASL (American Sign Language).