The Dig

696

The Dig

Frank Paul

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 1997 Frank Paul Marvuglio Jr.

CHAPTER ONE

This was not happening! It just couldn’t be! After two years they were going to take it away from her. She had waited a long time for this chance. No, waited was the wrong word, she had earned this chance, and now they were going to turn it over to someone else. It just wasn’t fair!

She thought this was finally her chance to show her colleagues she was someone as able as they were in the field and fully capable of leading her own team. Not just a good teacher, researcher, coordinator or assistant. Positions in which she had proven herself time and time again, on countless projects, over the last fifteen years

He sat there, behind his big maple topped desk, trying to escape her accusing stare, but she would have none of it.

She had known anger before, and God knows she had been hurt before, but this was something beyond anything she had ever experienced. One second she felt as if she was going to burst into tears, the next she thought she would jump across his desk, the very same desk he sat at when he gave her this project and scratch out his lying eyes.

Her eyes bored into him as she remembered his many promises. All his bullshit about someday having her own show to run. To finally get a chance to publish her own discoveries under her own name, instead of having her work usurped by someone else. Sure she got some recognition, a footnote at the bottom of the page on somebody else’s work, and that someone was sitting right in front of her. She had felt no more than a lackey each time it happened, and it had happened far too often.

She had to turn away from him and right now, as far as she was concerned, he was the most disgusting thing on the face of the earth. He had taken away her dream, a dream that had sustained her all these years. She’d be damned if he was going to get away with it, at least not without a fight. There was a time when he had the power to intimidate her, but that was when she was young and impressionable, fifteen years ago, just after she had won her Doctorate in Anthropology from Northwestern University.

He had been and still was a highly regarded professor of Anthropology. He had a presence that bordered somewhere between Harrison Ford and Richard Burton. Devilishly handsome with a suggestion of something sinister lurking under the surface. That combination, spiced as it was, with his extremely high intellect was enough for her to find him fascinating.

They met when she arrived here at the University of Florida to take a teaching position under him. He was seventeen years her senior and at the time of their first meeting he was forty-three and she was twenty-six. She had just ended, just prior to her arrival here in Florida, an intense two year relationship with another graduate student.

That she was extremely vulnerable at the time and still carrying a heart overflowing with love, never dawned on her. That her new boss was winning her on the rebound was a thought that she never contemplated, at least not until years later.

This new man in her life, Professor Harold Rawlings, swept her off her feet, and like a juicy red strawberry ripe for the picking, snatched her up. Within a very short time they began living together. Then, more for appearances than anything else, they married.

By the end of their second year of marriage the blush was off that particular piece of fruit and she began to see him for what he really was. A narrow minded egotistical fool. A user and manipulator who’s only goal in life was to use people for his own personal and professional aggrandizement. Once they served his purpose he would discard them. Thus his rise to the top was balanced precariously on the bleached bones of better men and women then he could ever hope to be. What had keep her with him all these years was her own overpowering dream, and that dream was to lead her own dig. To get in the dirt, be involved with all facets of a dig, and ultimately the thrill of discovery. To perhaps unearth some relic that would shed new light on an ancient culture. To be the one that brushed away those last few grains of soil, to bring it to light after centuries hidden in the folds of the earth. To have her name placed in the annals of discovery. That’s why she had entered this field in the first place; the years of schooling, the years of preparation, now after all that, this was happening.

Elizabeth, you must understand. This was not my idea.

She didn’t believe him and her face reflected her feelings.

Harold rose from his chair, but stayed behind the desk. He would keep the desk between him and Elizabeth, at least until he could extinguish some of the fire in her eyes. He had no doubt he could, he’d handled her outbursts before but that was up until now but then nothing quite like this had ever happened before.

Between the two of them he was usually the one in control of the situation, any situation. Whenever she began to rebel he would dangle some professional carrot in front of her, or seek to intimidate her by using her own good qualities such as her honesty, integrity, compassion and intellect. It never ceased to amaze him that people who possessed those qualities were always the easiest to subvert. He learned early in life that these, so called good people, believed that those very same qualities existed, to a very great extent, in all people. Harold Rawlings had used that belief to deceive Elizabeth more times than he cared to remember. He had also used the same deception, to some degree, with everyone he dealt with, especially his professional colleagues.

Some caught on to Harold early on in their dealings with him and likened him to a pickpocket; you know the slick bastard is going to steal you blind, but there isn’t a thing you can do about. Not only that when you finally confront the thief, who’s standing in front of you with your wallet in his hand, he makes you feel as if, somehow the whole affair was completely your own fault. Although Elizabeth was cognizant of this trait in her husband, that knowledge didn’t always protect her from his manipulative tentacles. She had a mental list of the things she wanted to achieve professionally unfortunately each item on her list went either directly through him or through the people around him. Playing the game his way was a price she felt she had to pay in order to achieve her goals, but this time the price turned out to be much too high.

Harold and Elizabeth’s relationship over the years had degraded from husband and wife, to what they really were to each other; research assistant and professor.

Elizabeth had long age come to grips with that fact. In some ways she was lucky, she knew many couples who didn’t even have that. She at least also had her career to keep her distracted, however tied to the whims of her

husband that it was, and for a glorious but brief time her own dig.

That she should have stood on her own 1egs, she would have argued against. That she could stand on her own she, unfortunately, she would have never believed.

Harold’s view on the whole affair was simple. He had assembled the best people around him and had placed his wife over them, who just happened to be the best damn assistant he could ever hope to have working for him. To his mind it was his brains, insight and daring that brought so much fame to himself and to the University that employed him. When in reality he was like a huge gaping black hole, drawing in great minds to him and then sucking the light from them.

Again he made his plea, Really my dear, you’re venting your spleen on the wrong person. I am, like you, obligated to follow orders. I am merely the intermediary in all this.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, she knew there was some truth to what he said. She knew this wasn’t a University funded exploration. Three years ago Harold had been quietly approached by some outsider to head a privately funded dig. She had no idea who this person or persons were. It was a highly unusual arrangement, with no affiliation to any university or other institute of higher learning. At first Harold had balked at the suggestion that he leave his hallowed halls of learning and actually get his hands dirty. To offset his reluctance came the offer of money, more money than he’d ever see in his lifetime, but the key to Harold’s black heart was not just money, although he was a greedy man. No the road to his heart went through his ego and vanity. The final straw was the promise of funding a chair in his name at the University.

When he finally accepted he made one demand and that was that he would hand pick the leader of the dig. Things almost went down the toilet with that statement and his secret backers almost pulled out of the deal. But Harold, being the shrew manipulator that he was, assured them that they were getting two for the price of one. For it was then that he proposed placing his wife, Elizabeth, in charge of the dig. He made them believe that with him here at the University, overseeing and coordinating everything, and his wife in the field at the dig, things would go much smoother and results would come much quicker than if he was left to do it all by himself. Mostly because of a false, but rosy picture he painted of he and his wife’s relationship, his backers decided to go for the deal.

They made only one stipulation to the deal. Complete secrecy must be maintained throughout the period of excavation. Nothing could be published, or even hinted at, until the dig was completed, and even then these silent backers would control what information and relics, if any, could be disclosed to either the public or any others in associated fields. What that all meant was that there was a very good possibility that nothing would come out of this enterprise except a lot of, on site, backbreaking and tedious work.

At that point Harold realized what a stroke of genius it had been to propose his wife as leader of the dig. He would appear to be keeping his promise to her of getting Elizabeth her own dig. But if and when the shit hit the fan and she was either prevented from going public with her finds or the dig turned out to be a complete waste of time, he was off the hook.

Damn, he thought at the time, ‘this was just what I need to finally get Elizabeth off my back. If she fails it would prove to her and to everyone else that she was nothing on her own and I can lay the blame at her front door."

The problem for Harold was that Elizabeth was doing a fantastic job and was showing everyone involved that she was more than qualified to handle a major excavation. This threw a left handed monkey wrench into Harold’s plans.

Instead of sitting back and reaping the praise and the rewards as he had expected, suddenly after three years his backers were making noises that they wanted to deal directly with Elizabeth. Harold nearly panicked at the thought of losing control and also of her finding out how manipulative he had been.

Elizabeth, for her part, had no idea all of this had transpired behind her back. She knew that there were silent and secretive backers, she knew she had Harold to thank for getting her in as head of the dig. On the other hand she had no idea that there was a Chair waiting for Harold at the end of her excavation, she had no idea about the money, and most assuredly, she would have never accepted the position if she had any idea of the restrictions about publishing her findings.

What Harold had conspired to do was to get Elizabeth taken off the dig. He did this by sowing doubts in the minds of his backers. A word dropped here, holding back a few of her daily reports, changing the scheduling of supplies to hold up progress on the dig, and he even held up dispersal of needed funds. When Elizabeth complained to him about all the delays, he pleaded that his hands were tied. He managed to convince her that all the delays were the fault of his secretive backers, and when these backers, the money men, began squawking about the missing daily reports and the delays at the site, he quietly shrugged his shoulders and made a feeble attempt of supporting his wife.

Three months passed while he preformed his double dealings, finally the money men had enough. It seemed they were under a lot of pressure themselves for results and they told him they wanted a change made at the dig.

Harold was all ready to play his trump card and that was to offer himself up as savior. He told them he was ready to drop everything; he would take a sabbatical, and make the dig his number one priority. It was as if they hadn’t even heard him. They told him to leave everything as it was and that they would get back to him in a few weeks.

That was three weeks ago, this morning they called to tell him they were sending someone to take over the dig. He called the site and left an urgent message for Elizabeth to get her butt up here, to St. Augustine, immediately.

When Elizabeth got the message she immediately returned the call. The last thing she need was another delay. Harold had instructed his secretary to tell Elizabeth that he was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed and that it was imperative that Elizabeth be here no later than noon. Harold was sitting in his office, with the inner door between his office and the secretary’s reception area left open, when Elizabeth tried to get through to him. He could clearly hear his secretary lie to his wife. After the third time he heard his secretary repeat his instructions he punched the line button to speak to Elizabeth himself but when he pick up the phone and placed it to his ear all he heard was a dial tone. He sighed a deep sigh and placed the phone back in its cradle. He was relieved, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to her on the phone. Better to have her wonder what the hell was going on, besides he needed time to think and plan what he was going to tell her. That was going to be tough, for he had no idea who they were sending to replace her. He leaned back in his chair and frowned. So far he had managed to retain overall control of the dig, but that could change with the arrival of this new site leader. He made a fist and slammed the desk with it. Damn, he thought, and went back to his mental planning.

Elizabeth had no choice but to drive the seventy odd miles north to St. Augustine. The dig was located near the banks of the St. John river so that left her two options, one of driving directly east to Daytona and getting on ninety-five north for the run up the coast to St. Augustine. That would add some thirty miles to her trip but it was superhighway all the way. A higher speed limit and less chance of a traffic tie up but of course she would have to deal with all the motor homes and all those tourist filled cars. She wrinkled her nose up at that idea. That left her with the second option, route seventeen north, through all the little towns and ‘burgs’ that lined its scenic route. She checked her watch, and found she had a full three hours before noon.

She left some last minute instructions at the dig with her key people, and told them she would probably be back by early evening, or tomorrow morning at the latest. She then jumped into her BMW and drove out their private road. Within ten minutes she was headed up route seventeen.

The slower paced ride up route seventeen did nothing toward calming her nerves or abating her anger. In fact nothing, other than being left alone to do her job, could have accomplished that for her.

She pulled into the parking lot in front of the long grey building which housed The Anthropology Department offices at exactly five after eleven. She ran in through the two large glass doors and turned left and strode purposefully down the hall. She passed a few people she knew acknowledging their presence in passing with a curt wave of her hand. By the time she entered Harold’s outer office she was moving along at a good clip.

As she entered the secretary looked up and said, Oh, Dr. Rawlings, I’ll let him know you’re here.

Like there was a chance that Elizabeth would allow him to let her cool her heels out here.

Don’t bother, I’ll announce myself.

With no break or hesitation in her stride Elizabeth walked across the short span of the outer office, opened the door to Harold’s inner sanctum, and barged in.

He looked up at the noise of the sudden implosion and discovered its cause, his wife.

He could use many words to describe his wife; intelligent, direct, honest, loyal, caring (at times), kindhearted and punctual. Some other words were, bitch (which he found he was using more and more whenever he thought about her), smart mouth and whore (it had been four years since they had shared the same bedroom together, so she must be whoring around).

But there was one word he had not used lately and that was, beautiful. Looking at her standing there in front of him he thought, Is it really possible that I could have forgotten what a truly beautiful woman she is.

Her shoulder length brown hair had been magnificently streaked golden by the Sun and today she wore it pulled back from her face and contained it with a rubber band near the nape of her neck. There were no bangs over her smooth high forehead, not a wisp of hair was out of place, nothing to detract from the perfect proportions of her face. Her eyes were a pale grey, with just the slightest flecks of color scattered around the cornea. Sometimes those flecks of color would seem to jump and flicker when she was angry. Her eyes were full and wide, her lashes long and thick, but now slightly lightened by the same Sun that had worked its magic on her hair. Her eyebrows were nearly perfect in their arch, and she never had to either pluck or wax them. Her nose was neither too long or too short, but with just the slightest upturn at its tip. She had full lips that today, carried just the merest trace of lipstick on them. Harold knew those lips covered a set of pearl white teeth. Her jaw line was strong and firm but definitely not hard. Her ears were in proportion and looked to be made of the finest porcelain. She had propped up on the top of her head a pair of sunglasses.

Around her long and elegant neck she had tied a red and white bandanna. Since she had been called away from the site she had come as she was, dressed for a day of work. She was wearing a billowy thin white shirt unbuttoned, but with the shirttails loosely tied around her waist. Under the shirt she had on, what was always confused by Harold as a bathing suit, but in reality was a body suit. The body suit was tan as were the well worn shorts she wore. They were a chino type material, strong but light weight. They were cuffed and they ended slightly above mid-thigh. At the end of her long tapered legs she wore a pair of ankle high work boots with no socks. Along with the wide brim hat which she had left at the dig it was an outfit that would be comfortable for a day of scratching out the myriad items that her dig contained under the intense Florida Sun., and from those long days in the Sun she had acquired a deep golden tan.

For Harold it was the delights her outfit hid from view that caused a stirring in his crotch and brought back memories of her that he long since thought he had discarded. He tried to force his mind away from those once enjoyed delights but found that he had no control. He wanted her, and for a brief moment, he wanted her desperately.

He forced his eyes from the softness of her body to her face and as their eyes met she asked, ‘So what the hell is so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?"

The tone of her voice, the way she stood with her hands on her hips, legs spread slightly, head held high, eyes peering deep inside him had the effect of a bucket of cold water tossed in his lap. It had always bothered Harold that she had the power to emasculate him with just a look or a gesture. This time it was the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes. To Harold it was as if she were toying with him. So it gave him even greater satisfaction to tell her his news in the most brutal and heartless fashion he could.

You’re being removed as head of the dig.

The words hit her like a series of body blows, and it pleased Harold to see her tough exterior begin to crumble, but if he thought she would cave in he was greatly mistaken.

It took every bit of strength that Elizabeth could muster to remain standing, inside she wanted to sit down and cry, but she knew who she was dealing with. Any weakness she showed would be turned and use against her.

For a moment she was unsure and confused, her eyes darted around the room, and they finally came to rest on Harold’s face. If she had needed any incentive to regain her composure quickly it was there in Harold’s eyes.

She could see that, although he tried to maintain a somber look, his eyes were beaming, and she thought, The son-of-a-bitch is enjoying this. He’s getting his rocks off seeing me squirm.

What had flashed through her mind was the result of her disappointment and anger, but she wasn’t too far from the mark, for Harold’s crotch was stirring again and he thought, There are more ways of fucking you, Elizabeth then I had imagined, and this one doesn’t feel all that bad.

She straightened up and to all outward appearances seemed to be back in control of her emotions, and it had a disturbing effect on Harold. She could see the disappointment flash across his face. Before he could recover she asked.

Why? What reason did they give?

He shrugged, They want results. I suppose they weren’t happy with your methodical way of doing things. It has been almost three years.

She shot at him, You could have warned me!

Damn it!!! I didn’t know!

She was confused, on one hand she didn’t trust him, on the other hand his reputation was on the line nearly as much as her own. What reason would he have to lie to her.

I want to talk to them.

You can’t. You know the rules. Everything goes through me... .Everything.

She lifted her arms slightly and then in exasperation she let them fall. They made a light slapping sound as the palms of her hands hit against her upper thighs.

Don’t they understand that this is a scientific study we’re doing, and to do it right it takes time? You of all people should have explained that to them.

Harold got up from his chair and walked around the desk. It looked for a second as if he were coming around to console her, but the look she gave him convinced him to venture no further then the corner of his desk. He leaned against the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest.

Look here, Elizabeth you’re being totally unfair to me. If it were up to me you’d still be in charge. But it’s not up to me! What I said about results was just a guess. Really, I thought you were doing a great job down there.

Obviously not great enough. Now what am I supposed to do rollover and play dead? Make believe the last three years never happened?

A shiver ran through her and she said, more to herself than Harold, All that work, all our preparations, this was the year Harold. We are on the verge of uncovering what appears to be the best preserved Calusan village ever unearthed. A tribe which we thought was only indigenous to the south western portions of the state. Prior to our work the furthest north any of their artifacts have ever turned up has been between Port Charlotte and North Port. That’s over one-hundred and fifty miles to the south-west. Now we have them well into the lands of the Timucua and within striking distance of the edges of the Apalachees and if what we all ready know about these tribes is true, this was beyond the realm of possibility.

Harold raised his arm and condescendingly interjected, I know, I know. I can’t believe you are attempting to lecture to me. Have you forgotten that I’m considered an expert on the original peoples of Florida, and all three tribes, the Calusa, the Timucua and the Apalachee were, from what we have been able to piece together, the most bitter and violent enemies.

Elizabeth’s anger flared and she challenged him.

An expert who won’t go against convention. An expert who has no interest at all in expanding the bubble of knowledge that is the status quo. How can you call yourself a scientist, Harold? You’ve been to the site, how many times? Eight? Ten? Surely no more than a dozen times over the last three years?

Please, Elizabeth I don’t need you telling me my job. I read your daily reports, study your diagrams and have probably spent more time scanning your plots then you have. Just because I’m not on my hands and knees in some pit scratching away soil from some artifact, one grain at a time, or down in one of your exploratory trenches reading strata cuts, doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on down there.

Elizabeth had to admit to herself that Harold spoke the truth when he said he knew what was going on at the dig. He was not a field person, if pressed, that he would admit, but that fact did not make him a bad Anthropologist, far from it. But to Elizabeth’s mind she could not understand anyone in their field not wanting to be present at the moment of discovery. That first magical moment when a manmade object from thousands, or even hundreds of years is first uncovered. When the last grain of dirt is brushed away and it sits fully exposed to the light of a modern world.

Elizabeth, as with many of the other true diggers in her field, found it hard to trust anyone who didn’t want to be there for those moments of discovery. Those who only wanted to analyze the hard facts, read the notes and look at a box full of relics.

Harold was a textbook man. He had spend hours reading them. Not only that he had written two of them. One a standard text book used in Introductory Anthropology classes in many Universities and Colleges around the world. The other, a more detailed textbook on early North-American cultures, which when first released, was received well enough at the postgraduate level, but now was hardly referred to at all.

So, Harold who is it that’s coming to replace me?

Harold slowly shook his head, I don’t know.

What do you mean you don’t know? You must have discussed this with them.

Harold let out an exasperating sigh, You’re not listening to me Elizabeth, I DON'T KNOW!

Before she could launch another attack on his credibility he quickly added, They called this morning. They told me someone would be coming down to take over the dig. I got off the phone and called you.

Elizabeth shook her head and thought of all the time that would be wasted with a change of leadership at the site. They would have to be given a rundown on everything that has been done to date. They would need time to settle in. find a place to live and get acquainted with the crew of diggers and scientists at the site, acclimate themselves to the weather, the midday Florida Summer Sun could be brutal, and she thought to herself, It's not like waiting in line for a ride at Disney World.

On top of that was the paper work, tons of it: daily reports (one had to be in the mail every evening), requisition and request forms for supplies and tools (everything in triplicate), pay stubs and vouchers for thirty-five people either associated with, or actually on site.

She would have to teach this new person how to deal with the outside services; food and water, sanitary and garbage disposal. She shook her head again and thought to herself that it was no wonder that she wasn’t giving them the results they wanted, at times she had come to think of herself as merely a glorified camp director.

It often seemed to Elizabeth that there was precious little time left for what she was there for. As a result most of her work, that is her true work that of discovery, was usually carried out when she was hunched over her desk in the silent hours long after midnight.

Harold broke into her thoughts. I know how much of a shock and disappointment this is for you Elizabeth, and I’m truly sorry, then he let slip his first honest thought on the situation. I don’t even know if I’m going to be left in charge of this operation after he gets here.

What do you mean?

I asked them if they were replacing me also.

What did they say?

Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Elizabeth frowned and thought for a moment. I guess, Harold we’re just going to have to wait for our mystery guest. Perhaps he’ll have some answers for us.

Although she might have sounded resigned to her fate inside she was seething but she knew from experience that there would be nothing of value to be gained by trying to pump Harold for more information. Either he had told her all he cared to tell her or he had just told her the truth. At this point it really didn’t matter, she had things she should be doing in preparation for this takeover.

She turned to leave.

Harold lifted himself from the edge of the desk. And where do you think you’re going, Elizabeth?

Come on, Harold there’s no reason for me to hang around here. I want to get back to the dig. There’s a lot of work I have to do to get ready for this person. If I’m going to surrender the dig at least I want the work to go on as smoothly as possible. Just send him down when he gets here. I’ll use these last few days to make the transition as painless as possible.

She knew there would be some resentment from some of the staff at the dig, God knew she was bubbling over with it herself. It was also important to her that her people find out the news directly from her, not through the grapevine or from someone else. Her only thought was the dig and its continuation.

Harold smirked at her, I don’t think you’ll have enough time to make much of a difference one way or the other, Elizabeth.

She didn’t like look of contained delight on Harold’s face, it implied that he was about to drop a small nuclear device on her.

Her eyes narrowed and she asked, How much time do I have?

He made a exaggerated motion with his arm, first drawing it away from his side in a wide arc and then bringing his hand in front of his face. He flipped it over so his watch was just at eye level and pantomimed pulling back a nonexistent shirt sleeve and cuff.

Well its eleven forty-four.

Harold dropped his arm back to his side and with cutting edge to his voice said, I’d say you have roughly sixteen minutes or so to prepare yourself and the dig for its new boss.

Are you serious?

He tried but failed to keep from laughing at her. He quickly raised his hands in a halting gesture.

I’m sorry but I thought for a second there your chin was going to hit the floor. I know I’m being rude but you had to see the look on your face.

She turned from him, dropped her head slightly, and fought back a sudden on rush of frustration and emotion. The last thing she wanted was to crumble in front of Harold.

Harold reached in his back pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He took a step toward her and held it out to her. Her shoulders were slumped over slightly and she was staring down at the floor. She didn’t see his gesture. He stepped closer and tapped her on the arm. She jumped slightly and looked at him.

Her eyes were filling up with tears and soon they would be cascading down her cheeks. Elizabeth looked blankly at Harold. He made a shaking gesture with the handkerchief.

Here.

Her eyes darted to the handkerchief and then back up to Harold’s face.

No thank you, I’m all right.

Harold wasn’t one to make gestures like this often, actually hardly at all, he wasn’t one to offer anything to anyone without a direct pay back for himself. Elizabeth knew this and when he offered the handkerchief again she said, No! I’m fine.

Harold smirked and drew his hand back. As he slipped his handkerchief back into his pocket he said.

Have I become that loathsome to you, Elizabeth. Christ, it was only a handkerchief.

He turned and walked back behind his desk. Elizabeth took those few seconds, while his back was turned, to dab her eyes with the backs of her hands and by the time Harold had reached his chair and sat down and repositioned himself behind his desk Elizabeth had regained control of her emotions.

Harold returned to the work on his desk and he began to shuffle through his papers in an attempt to relocate where he had been when he was interrupted by Elizabeth’s arrival.

Harold! You’re not going to bury your nose in a pile of paperwork at a time like this.

He looked up at her and in a most grating tone asked, Really, my dear, what would you have me do, cry?

She ignored his insult.

I need to ask you something, Harold.

He paused with a sheaf of papers in his hand, and looked at her.

Ask away.

"Are you going to stand by me with this new person or are you going to do what you always do and try to protect your skinny ass?’

He stared at her but remained mute.

After a few seconds she began shaking her head slowly.

Harold, you have no heart.

Harold’s response was rapid and alarming to Elizabeth. His face went from a benign almost jovial look to a most malevolent evil stare that passed almost before its image could register on Elizabeth’s cornea. Then in an instant he was back to his professional demeanor. Elizabeth took a step backward, she wasn’t sure what she had just seen but it frightened her and shocked her.

Although Harold’s outward appearance was now warm and smooth his response to her statement about his heart was frosty and jagged.

So I’ve been told often.

He smiled but his voice still carried a trace of an edge as he said, Why don’t you sit down and relax?

He placed the papers in his hand back on the desk and plunged into his work.

Elizabeth knew she couldn’t sit down, especially because of the way the four chairs were arranged around his desk, they all paid homage to Harold. She walked across the room to one of the two windows that were set into the thick walls. She perched on the wide sill that formed a sort of shelf and gazed out into the parking lot. There was nothing to see from this position except the cars parked directly in front of the window.

There were parts of the campus that were beautiful, but not this part. Harold’s office was in a long low building, that if raised on end would have been an impressive, twenty-five stories high. But laying on its side it looked like what it was; a desperate attempt to save money. It wasn’t that it was ugly, even ugly makes a statement. No, worse, it had no character, made no statement, it was merely four walls and a roof.

It housed most of the department heads offices and she remembered the days she had spent working here as assistant to her husband Harold. They were not among of her most cherished memories. To be faced with the prospect of returning to this drab environment, and Harold, was almost more than she could stand.

She could feel her eyes beginning to fill up again.

Come on, she thought, get a grip.

The phone on Harold’s desk buzzed, she turned and watched Harold pick it up.

Yes?

There was a pause as he listened, then he answered, "Very good, send him in.,,

Harold leaned back in his chair and said, He’s here.

Elizabeth, on her perch, tensed up and turned her head to get a better view of the door.

They both waited, Harold doing well in masking his anticipation, Elizabeth displaying hers in her stare.

A few moments passed, an eternity for Elizabeth, before the door finally opened.

She heard him before she saw him, and she thought, Oh no!!!

Doctor Rawlings.

Harold was up on his feet in an instant, but that’s as far as he got. Harold seemed stunned and for the moment was speechless. There was no masking his feelings now, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Kelly reached Harold’s desk and thrust out his arm.

Doctor Rawlings, I’m Kelly St James.

Harold reached out and they shook hands over Harold’s desk. St James towered over Harold and they shook hands his hand engulfed the smaller man’s hand.

Harold finally found his voice and as they shook he said, You didn’t have to introduce yourself, Doctor St James. I would have known you anywhere. I dare say, you must be besieged by all the people who know you on sight

Harold missed the slight tinge of color that rose on Kelly’s face at his comment.

Before he dropped Kelly’s hand Harold added, This is really a delightful surprise, and I must add, quite an honor."

Harold dropped Kelly’s hand and gestured toward a chair.

Please have a seat.

Kelly shook his head and said, If you don’t mind I’d rather stand. I’ve been in airplanes and airports for the last seven hours. I think my back has developed a permanent crease in it.

Harold smiled and then said, I can’t believe they got someone like you to take over our little dig.

Like me?

Somebody of your stature. You’ve worked on some of the most renowned digs in this hemisphere. From the Arctic Circle to the tip of South America there hasn’t been a major dig in the last ten years that you haven’t been involved with. You’re considered an expert in the Anasazi sequence beginning in 300 A.D. to 1300 A.D.. A thousand years by God. Then your work with the Mississippian towns and temple mounds, adding complete new insights, truly amazing. Your mapping of Chaco Canyon’s roads and the subsequent discovery of the trade routes to Mexico and then finding proof of direct trade with the Anasazi and the people of the northern provinces of Mexico. Perhaps through them a trading link to the Aztec people themselves.

Just thinking about the body of work that Kelly had amassed in a comparatively short time seemed to weigh Harold down and he plopped back down in his chair. There was a moment of silence and Harold continued. More subdued then before but still in awe.

Two television specials and two series for the Public Broadcasting system. Kelly, you’ve made the subjects of Anthropology and Archaeology household words. It certainly has had a positive effect on our corporate and private funding. Before raising money for research and field work was like pulling teeth, now corporate VIP’s talk about, Mesoamerica, the Inca culture and the Aztec Empire as if they are subjects they have an intimate knowledge of. Why some of them even talk about the southwestern portion of Pre-Christian North America, as a place they are familiar with. You’ve certainly made our lives easier, Kelly.

Harold ended the way so many had come to describe Kelly, You know you’re considered the Indiana...."

Kelly raised his hands in mock surrender, Whoa!

He thought if he heard another person compare him to Indiana Jones he’d strangle them. All the things that Harold said where true, and more, but Kelly had no use for any of the fame and notoriety his work had brought him. To be compared to a movie character belittled the amount of hard work and research that was the hallmark of a successful dig. Most importantly it made it seem to the public that it was a one person show and that was the biggest lie of all. Besides Archaeology has hardly been a life or death situation. At least not up to now.

Harold sat there beaming. He raised both hands and slammed them down on the desk and in one continuous motion he pushed himself up from his chair.

I’ve got a great idea! he said, Why don’t we grab a bite of lunch? You’ve had a long trip, you must me famished.

Harold started to come around the desk. He could hardly contain himself, he could visualize walking into the faculty cafeteria, not the prissy little one in this building but the large one on the main campus, with Doctor Kelly St James as his guest. Why the campus would be buzzing about this for weeks. Again Kelly raised his hand and halted Harold in midstride.

I want to get down to the site as soon as possible. I was told that transportation had been arranged.

That would be me.

The sound of the voice came from over Kelly’s left shoulder and it startled him. As he turned around to face Elizabeth she gracefully slid from her perch.

Elizabeth!

She smiled at him, Kelly.

Kelly seemed to be stunned. All he could do was look at her. She in turn walked purposely up to him. When they were face to face she said, It's been a long time, Kelly.

Fifteen years.

She smiled softly at him and added, Actually its closer to sixteen.

Kelly’s eyes looked deep into hers. Whatever, it's been a long, long time.

Harold watched the exchange of looks between Kelly and his wife. Something was going on that Harold was not privy to. He weighed the words they had spoken to each other and could come to only one conclusion. They had some history together.

Harold was not in a position to see Kelly’s face which was good. For at Kelly’s initial glimpse of Elizabeth his face had changed dramatically. His eyes softened and his mouth had a slight tremble to it as he mouthed her name and there for an instant his face was awash in a sea of emotion.

When he took this job he knew he would be seeing her, it was inevitable, and he had fooled himself into thinking that he didn’t care anymore. Now looking at her, face to face, so close he could smell her, close enough to reach out and touch her.

Elizabeth, for her part, misread his look completely. She assumed that she had startled him and that he was not prepared to confront her. In her mind she reasoned that he was uncomfortable and embarrassed about his part in stripping her of control of the dig.

She thought as she looked into his eyes, He thought I’d be long gone, too ashamed to face him. Fat chance, now that I’m right here in his face he doesn’t know what to say.

Harold did have a unobstructed view of Elizabeth’s face and what he saw there only confused him more. He could see the anger, that he would have expected but there was a flash of something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. But whatever it was, for a brief moment in time, Harold found himself, for the first time in his life, feeling the pangs of jealousy.

Kelly regained his composure and offered an apology, I'm sorry, Elizabeth I didn’t realize you were in the room.

She smirked at him, I guess not.

Harold couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

Do you two know each other?

Elizabeth waited for Kelly to answer. His eyes questioned her. She waited, leaving Kelly to wonder if he should answer, and if he did answer, how much Harold knew.

Elizabeth seemed to be enjoying watching Kelly squirm, not knowing what answer to give to Harold’s question. When she felt she had let both men stew long enough she answered.

Kelly and I were in graduate school together. We had a few classes together.

Harold nodded and said, Oh, I see. Old friends.

Before Kelly could respond Elizabeth retorted, Hardly old friends, Harold just classmates.

Her answer was a little too caustic, even for Elizabeth. There was more to this than she was admitting to and Harold vowed to himself that he would find out what was hidden under the rug, but first things first. If that’s what Elizabeth wanted him to think then, for now, he’d go along,.

Harold walked back to his chair behind the desk, and as he sat down he said, Well since we won’t be going to lunch there are a few questions I’d like to ask you before you head down to the dig. I got the impression you’d have some instructions for me.

Kelly pulled his eyes from Elizabeth and faced Harold.

"I’m sorry, Dr. Rawlings but all I been told is to report to you and then to take over the dig site as soon as possible.

Elizabeth cringed at Kelly’s statement.

You are sure you haven’t been given any instructions for me?

Positive.

Then I’m to assume that I’m still in overall charge of the project.

Kelly made a gesture with his shoulders that showed he was unaware of any change in the status quo.

Harold plopped back in the chair and a look of complete satisfaction swept over his face. It took a moment for him to realize that there were still two people standing in front of his desk. When he did, he returned from his delusions with a slight reddening of his face.

So then, you’ll be sending your daily reports through me, as before?

Most certainly, Kelly paused and then added, for the daily needs of the project you’re still the man in charge.

Harold’s face dropped.

What do you mean? What about the daily reports and the artifacts. Who’s to coordinate all that information?

I don’t know. All I know is they’re sending someone to take care of all that.

Harold raised his right hand to his face and rubbed his chin.

I see.

Elizabeth watched Harold’s reaction to this news. He was to be cut out of the loop. Other than the mundane housekeeping duties of keeping the site going, he was to have no more input into the scientific studies. She thought to herself, Good for you, you bastard!

Elizabeth waited to see what Harold would say and how he would fight this insult to his professional pride. She thought he would react violently, or in the least, demand an explanation from Kelly. His reaction, when it came, shocked her more than if he had blown his top.

Harold dropped his hand from his chin and slowly rose to his feet. He had a half smile draped across his face as he extended his hand.

Well then there is nothing more to say except, welcome aboard, Dr. St James.

As the two men shook hands Harold added, You can count on me to do whatever I can to help keep you on schedule. Whatever and whenever, just call.

Kelly smiled at Harold’s offer then added, Could we please drop the formalities?

Harold nodded, Very good, Kelly and I’m Harold.

They released their grip.

Well, then I’m sure you want to get down to the site as soon as possible.

Harold reached down and pulled open the top right hand drawer of his desk. He reached in and his hand came out clutching a thick folder. He closed the drawer and handed the folder to Kelly. Kelly took the folder and flipped through it.

Harold explained, As you can see, those are the daily reports from the last month.

Harold reached down and opened the large center drawer of his desk. This time he came out with some charts and another folder stuffed with papers. He plopped this on the desk.

‘And these are the plot plans of the dig. Everything from the first shovel full of dirt taken out of the site to its present condition."

As he flipped thought the charts he named them.

Orientation, by satellite, seismographic read outs, radar returns, satellite imaging of the area and a computer simulation of what the area looked like at the time of it occupation, four-hundred and fifty years ago. This computer simulation’s margin of error is plus or minus two percent. And in this pile are the stratification charts from the initial first three test trenches.

Harold smiled at Kelly and said, You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do, Kelly.

Kelly nodded, then dropped the folder he had just been handed on top of the pile of charts and papers.

Thank you for your concern Harold, but I’ve seen all of this.

Harold nodded then added offhandedly, Of course, of course they must of sent you a lot of information about the dig but the few days you’ve had to ingest all this information, Harold dropped his hands to the pile of papers on the desk and shook his head, isn't been enough time to truly understand all that’s been done. I’m sure you’ll need a week or two just to get a grasp of the size of the dig and what we’ve accomplished to date.

Kelly stiffened and reddened slightly.

Elizabeth bridled at the way Harold was inferring that he was responsible for the progress of the dig and by what she saw in Kelly’s face. Kelly had the look of a little boy who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

She was angry and her anger drove her toward the desk. When she reached the desk her arm brushed against Kelly’s arm. Kelly reacted as if he had received an electric shock. He pulled a few inches away from her. Again she measured his reaction by her own feelings.

Elizabeth interrupted Harold, her eyes narrowed and she said to her husband.

I think we’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion, Harold.

She turned her head and faced Kelly, she paused, and scanned his face as if trying to read his thoughts.

After a moment thought she asked, "Well how long have you been receiving information about the dig.

Kelly had dreaded this moment. He didn’t come here to hurt people's feelings, especially Elizabeth’s. Long ago when they had first approached him to take over the dig he had refused. He had told them that his work load was much too great to take on any new projects. While that was true there was an overriding reason that was the true deterrent for him, and that reason was that it was Elizabeth’s project. He knew she would hate him for taking it from her and that he found was something he couldn’t bear to happen.

They had approached him again and again, each time he said no. It was the last time when they talked to him that they told him they had made the decision to take the dig away from Elizabeth. They informed Kelly that she was out and asked that if he would not take over the dig then perhaps he could recommend someone qualified to take over.

Kelly stalled for as long as he could before he gave them his answer. He thought long and hard, agonizing over his decision, but in the end he realized it had to be, yes.

Now she was in his face with the question he knew she would someday have to ask. He knew the answer was going to hurt her, deeply, but even now, with her breathing anger and rage in his face, he tried to be as gentle with her as he could.

She asked again, How long, Kelly?

He took a breath and answered her.

About eighteen months.

She gasped, You bastard!

Elizabeth turned away from him and walked out of the room.

She slammed the door behind her and left the men staring after her.

Kelly made a move toward the door and as he did he said, I’d better talk to her, explain.

Harold stopped him with a loud, NO!

Kelly turned toward Harold and questioned him with his eyes.

Harold smiled slightly and added.

Give her a few minutes alone. I know Elizabeth, she’s just lost the one thing in the world that she truly loves, the dig, she feels betrayed and desolate right now.

Kelly nodded, but if the truth be known right now, he too was feeling pretty desolate himself.

Perhaps you’re right, Harold.

I know I’m right. She’s just got to get used to the idea, that’s all. In a little while she’ll be back to normal, one thing Elizabeth is and that’s a complete professional. Don’t worry, she’ll come around.

Harold’s little speech was delivered for Kelly’s benefit. The last thing in this world Harold knew for sure was what Elizabeth would do about all this. Harold shuttered to himself at the thought of how she might vent her outrage at this recent course of events.

Harold’s own anger was building but he knew he had to keep control. He took this opportunity, of Elizabeth’s absence, to question Kelly. What Kelly had just divulged troubled Harold greatly.

So, Kelly you’ve been looking over our shoulder for the last eighteen months. What are you to them, an outside consultant?

Warning alarms went off in Kelly’s head. It wasn’t that he resented Harold’s question, it was the way Harold had asked it. He said the word, consultant, as if it were a dirty word.

Kelly looked into Harold’s eyes. There was a little voice in the back of Kelly’s head that said not to trust this man. Whether it was Harold’s condescending manner, the slippery way he seemed to avoid returning Kelly’s gaze or simply the fact that he was married to Elizabeth. Kelly decided that he didn’t like the man in the least and more so, didn’t trust him at all.

The result being that Kelly, although never a liar, concluded that he’d tell Harold only some of the truth. The rest he’d just leave out.

Kelly nodded, Yes, but I don’t think I’m the only one.

What do you mean?

Kelly’s brow wrinkled up in thought.

I don’t know for sure, it's just a feeling, but they definitely have a deep understanding of the field.

What’s so strange about that.

Kelly smirked slightly as he remembered his first encounters with these mysterious people.

For one thing they are not scientists, they’re lawyers, and for lawyers or laymen, they had an uncommon knowledge of Anthropology and Archaeology.

Maybe they were picked because of their understanding of the field.

Kelly shook his head, No, it's more than that. It was almost as if they were given a list of questions to ask, and another list, to compare my answers to.

Kelly shook his head, more firmly this time.

They might have been well schooled about the subject, but I’m sure, science in not their field.

Kelly then asked Harold, What’s your view on all this, who are we working for?

Harold threw up his hands and said, I don’t know. I think I’ve been dealing with the same people you have, although with me they play dumb, very dumb.

He thought for a moment and then asked, I wonder if we are talking about the same men. Three men, two tall, one average height; bean counters, the shorter one seems to be the head man?

Sounds like the same men. Only thing I would add is, perhaps the shorter one has had some military background.

Harold thought a moment, then asked, What do you mean?

There’s something about the way he gives orders to the other two, his demeanor and his bearing. They seem to suggest a well ordered background.

Harold shook his head then asked seriously. Who’s behind all this, Kelly? Do you know?

No, I have no idea.

Then what made you decide to take this on. I’m sure you must have a list of a dozen projects that are more exciting and, scientifically speaking, much more promising than this little dig.

There was no way Kelly was going to tell Harold the prime reason for his being here.

He looked closely at Harold as if gauging the man. Kelly paused a moment as he decided on the best approach to satisfy Harold. This time his response to Harold’s question was based on what he thought Harold would understand, not so much on the truth.

I suppose for the same reasons you did, Harold. They sure waved around a lot of money. Anything we want, anything we need. All they demand is results.

Harold’s eyes narrowed and he thought to himself, I have to be careful with this one, he may be after the same things that I’m after.

Aloud he said, True, but what about the search for knowledge?

Kelly smiled and winked at Harold.

All in good time, Harold all in good time.

Harold was