milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Good afternoon," says a gentleman who is sitting in an armchair nearby, in shirtsleeves and with a glass of red wine in his hand.

Jack is the first to glance up, Max being busily engaged with something else.

"Afternoon," he replies, happy to let Max continue working through their kit.

"May I ask what you're going to research on your expedition?" the man asks. "I am curious."

"Egypt, We're hoping to find some scrolls that seem to have been 'lost' through the centuries."

The Library of Alexandria may have burned, but not all of it. At least, that's what Jack and Max are hoping.

"Archaeology," the man says. "And in the desert, scrolls keep well under less than favourable conditions. What time in Egypt's long history are the alleged scrolls from?"

"Indeed," Jack agrees. "We believe that it was a collection from across the ages, and 'lost' in 48 BC."

At this point, Max looks up, realising that Jack is conversing with someone at a greater length than merely 'afternoon'. He gives the new man a nod, and turns back to his work.

"Hidden when the Romans came?" the man guesses.

"We believe so," Max says, speaking up for the first time. "As to where they got to, well, no one is exactly sure."

"So, where will you start looking?" the man asks. "On the way from Alexandria to Siwa oasis?"

"The Siwa Oasis is on our 'to visit' list, certainly." Max says, nodding. "But, having spoken to some of my colleagues who've been there before, there's not actually anything worth seeing at Siwa anymore. The Oracle was the main draw, alongside the oasis itself. The consensus seems to be that, certainly, the scrolls passed through Siwa, it being the main route west from Egypt, but they didn't stop there. They went West."

To the Atlas Mountains, or so some people claim.

"Bahariyah, maybe?" the man says. "They've found a huge Greaco-Roman necropolis there in recent years."

Max eyes Hannibal. He's not aware of any Graeco-Roman structures being found there recently. This is probably because they aren't found until 1995, and so that discovery is in Max and Jack's future.

"Possibly. But the fact that there's Roman structures there suggests not, to me. These were things they were getting away from the Romans, not handing them to them. As I say, I think it more likely that whatever party was taking these, headed out into Libya, from Siwa, rather than returning towards the Nile."

The man nods. "It makes sense. So, you are preparing for the desert?" he says.

"Yes," Jack replies.

Then, he notices what Max is preparing to put in his backpack, a pair of large steel X-bars. "We won't want those out there, Max."

"No, but they might well be useful if we find something," is Max's sharp reply.

"True enough, no point making the journey if we can't survive to note what we find."

Edited 2013-09-08 20:36 (UTC)

"You do need some tools," the man says.

Jack nods. "The risk, though, is that, if we're carrying too much stuff, we won't make it to the end of the trail."

"Light-weight, multi-purpose tools might be best," the man muses.

"Yeah, but we don't have time to get some made out of titanium, much as I'd like to," Jack states in reply. Those things are ridiculously multipurpose as it is. (At least, they can be pressed into service in a rather large number of unexpected ways).

Max, meanwhile, is putting a few (apparently) identical aerosol cans on a pile that is evidently a 'would be nice, but' pile, alongside a pair of grenade shaped objects.

"Interesting equipment," the man remarks. "What is in the spray cans?"

"Which one?" Max asks, grabbing one at random. "They're all classified mixes I came up with when I worked at Sandia Labs in the US."

Yes. Max really is a classic multidisciplinary scientist.

"Handy," the man says. "What does that one do?"

Max flips it upside down. They may be plain, but there are evidently some markings on the bottom.

"This one? This one, you spray it on a live grenade, it'll absorb the whole blast."

"Very handy," the man says, sounding impressed.

"Yes," Max says. "I don't think we'll be needing any on this journey, though."

"I hope not," Jack agrees.

"What do the others do?" the man asks.

"Mostly? Expand, and harden. Filling holes, nooks and crannies." Murder holes, for example.

"Top secret foam glue?" the man says, smiling.

"Pretty much," Max says. He's rather proud of the stuff, but trade secrets, you know. "And, incidentally, I'm very lucky to have one of the world's foremost desert survival experts on this expedition. He'd never mention it, of course, but he is."

"Your young friend here?" the man says. "So you're evenly matched for your expedition."

Jack doesn't confirm it. He doesn't deny it either.

"How long was it you lasted on that exercise your commanders made you do? 40 something days in the Australian outback, right?" Max says.

"44," Jack states.

"Remarkable," the man says.

"Yeah, so everyone else seemed to think," Jack says, waving it off.

He knows how impressive it is, but he's not bothered about getting plaudits for it.

"It is an SASR record, I believe."

"Excellent reference for an expedition like this," the man says.

"Indeed it is," Max agrees.

"So, all that remains is for me to wish you luck," he says. "And look forwards to whatever stories you will have to tell."

"Indeed," Jack replies. "It's been a pleasure talking with you, Mister?.."

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter," he says, offering his hand.

Jack shakes his hand, before Max follows suit. Max recognises the name, though he does his best not to let it show, but Jack does not.

"A pleasure to meet you," Jack says.

"Indeed," Max agrees.

Edited 2013-09-12 22:10 (UTC)

"Good luck," Dr. Lecter says, and wanders off.