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Chapter 7 - The Myth

10 days after Alaska...

Lindsey Miles strode across the isle of a courtroom-like auditorium full of black-suited people that make up the elite society of the British Historical Institute - a smorgasbord of well-established archaeologists, anthropologists and historians.

She was ushered onto a platform with a microphone stand and found herself facing a sea of hard, sardonic faces she couldn't help but feel as if she is on trial or something. It might very well be, she thought.

Her audience, consisting mostly of seniors with gloomy and pale facial expressions, all hushed down from their tête-à-tête. The scent of potpourri mixed with tobacco smoke caught in her nose. Everyone was seated around a table of eight people, against the backdrop of exquisitely designed mahogany wood walls and red carpeted floor.

This is the famous lectern hall of the British Archeological Society that has been graced by popular names in the field of history, archeology and anthropology throughout the years of its history.

She had imagined herself to be in this historic hall many times as a young aspiring archeologist; to be speaking with knowledge and authority on this podium. Today she would be speaking from this podium, but without the knowledge and authority. She will be borrowing from the authority of her uncle - Douglas Miles.

Today, the Society has summoned her to share what she knew of Douglas' exploration in Alaska. It had recently become known to her that the institute is oblivious to her uncle's 'special' activity which is considered a breach of the institute's protocol on the part of her uncle. Their key to, perhaps, a few explanation lies in her being Douglas' apprentice. She was the only one they have who could possibly shed a hint of light.

She is being called upon as a witness, not as a learned speaker, but then again, she wouldn't want to miss this opportunity to be engaged with the Society anyhow.

So in the name of her uncle, Douglas Miles, a very credible and highly-esteemed name in the field of archeology, she will deliver it to them: what she understood of her uncle's work. However, she knows all too well that it won't be easy, as what she is about to deliver is certain to stir things up.

Today, Lindsey Miles is about to unfold a long forgotten myth.

In today's world, where somehow nothing much is left unexplained regarding the history of the world, anything that is empirically unproven is deemed as a 'myth'. Myths are not what these learned experts would bother to waste their time with.

And yet today she will raise one from the depths of a silent tomb.

Her uncle had dedicated his life to this myth. Now that he is gone, had risked and lost his life over this ardor of his, it is time to deliver the important discovery out of her uncle's unseen journals, to the institute, to the world.

An elderly man seated upfront among a panel of three people gave her the nod to begin. He is the man Lindsey knew very well as Sir Alfred Andrews, the head of the institute.

"My name is Lindsey Miles. I am a freshman archeology student at Yale University," she began over the mouthpiece. "It is a great honor to be invited on this podium today to talk about the late Douglas Miles, who is your great colleague, but who sadly passed away 10 days ago. Unbeknown to you all, he is also my mentor and my uncle, and I was there during his last moments,"

There was a nod of sad confirmation to this across the room. Douglas Miles was a grave loss to the Archeology world.

"I am therefore pleased to take this opportunity, as requested, to share what I know or 'what I think I know'. I am glad for I believe this is something of utmost importance. My uncle...I believe my uncle considers this matter to be of utmost importance."