Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

few cherished gifts from the local citizenry. Colorful pottery and small carvings jockeyed for space on the shelves, while framed stratigraphic drawings lined the walls, each showing the layers of history within the dig it represented.
    Her precious books overflowed the crowded and dangerously bowing shelves of her bookcases and lined the walls in precarious piles. From the looks of the inch or two of dust on every available surface, the department secretary had followed Keely‟s instructions to make sure her office was left entirely undisturbed while she was gone.
    Keely breathed a shuddering sigh of relief at finally returning to the closest thing to a home she‟d had in many years. The sterile apartment where she stored a few personal possessions had never been home; it was simply a place where she could go to shower and change clothes.
    She was always here in her office, in the classroom, or on a dig, living out of a suitcase.
    But here, she‟d carefully chosen every single object. Nothing that could disturb her—not a single object that could send her swirling into someone else‟s emotions—was permitted anywhere in the room.
    Here, she could finally remove her gloves.
    Peeling them off, she dropped them on a corner of her desk, and a puff of displaced dust shot into the air to tickle her nose. Okay, undisturbed was fine—excellent even—but now that she was back a little housekeeping was in order.
    Later.
    She dropped into her chair and closed her eyes, letting the waves of exhaustion wash over her.
    Even after all these years, all these trips, she‟d never gotten the knack of sleeping on planes.
    She had to be vigilant against unwanted touches. Too much of a chance that her head would drift to the side as she napped, her cheek might brush against the airplane seat, unleashing the emotions of thousands of angry, impatient, terrified, or otherwise overwrought fellow flyers directly into her vulnerable brain.
    She eyed the ancient red-and-green-plaid couch that stretched its lumpy shape against one wall, wondering if a nap wouldn‟t be a good idea before she tackled the piles of paper, hundreds of voice-mail messages, and everything else that usually piled up during months of absence.
    Sighing again, she lifted the phone. She‟d get a little done now, and then feel more virtuous about napping. She punched in her code, which only took her a few seconds to remember, found a pen and paper, and waited for the flood of messages to begin.
    “You have no new voice-mail messages.”
    Keely blinked, then shrugged, figuring she‟d messed up her code. Checking the bottom of her desk blotter, where she‟d penciled it against just such an occasion, she started over.
    “You have no new voice-mail messages.”
    Slowly lowering the phone, she felt the familiar acid begin to stir in her stomach. Bad airplane food and no sleep didn‟t help when one was wondering why none of her colleagues had bothered to call her in more than three months.
    They‟d known she was gone. Of course. That was it. Just because she‟d always come home to a torrent of messages didn‟t mean anything. Or at least it only meant that people were finally wising up and calling her on her international cell phone instead of here, where she wasn‟t.
    Where she hadn‟t been.
    Except . . . she hadn‟t gotten many calls in the field, either. Of course, she‟d ignored a few calls from George in the early days of the dig. The excitement of the discovery had taken every ounce of her attention. The famous Lupercale—the very sanctuary believed by ancient Romans to be the cave where the founders of Rome, twin boys Romulus and Remus, were suckled by a she-wolf.
    When the team had lowered the probes, and they‟d seen the outline of the imperial eagle, exactly as described in sixteenth-century texts, right there at the apex of the vaulted ceiling, everyone in the room had started screaming.
    Chills danced down her spine even now, at the memory. One of the greatest archaeological discoveries of all time, and she‟d been there. Naturally she hadn‟t had time to return calls from her boss. Very few of her colleagues bothered to call her when she was out; they understood.
    Didn‟t they?
    Except, everyone else in the department always seemed to call each other when they were on digs. Sharing the excitement and the wonder of discovery. She‟d overheard conversations in the rare staff meetings she managed to attend. But somehow she wasn‟t included in