most prominently a pair of large golden earrings. She was about the same age as Khoil and undeniably beautiful, but in a sharp, birdlike way, her nose thin and angular.
‘Just ask, to coin a phrase! Dr Sharpe and I will be happy to answer any questions,’ Nina said, addressing the group.
As she’d expected, the majority of questions were about the crown. But the Khoils were more interested in another artefact. ‘The Talonor Codex,’ said Khoil, bending for a closer look. ‘How much of it has been translated?’
‘About ninety per cent, so far,’ said Nina. ‘Dr Sharpe has been in charge of the translation work. The last ten per cent is the tricky part, but our knowledge of the Atlantean language is growing all the time.’
‘Have you considered using crowd-sourcing to speed up the process?’
Nina was surprised by the question. ‘Er, not really. It’s not how we work.’
He regarded her owlishly. ‘Dispersing the project throughout a network would be quicker than concentrating it amongst a few people. Aggregating a larger number of results would also reduce the probability of individual error. My company can provide suitable software - for a very reasonable fee.’
‘Archaeology isn’t really like computer science,’ said Nina. ‘Besides, we want to keep the translation work in-house for security reasons. The Codex describes a lot of places visited by Talonor, which are all potential sites of great archaeological importance. If we made it publicly available too soon, they could be raided before we had a chance to examine them.’
‘But some pages have already been made available online by the IHA.’
‘That was my predecessor’s decision, not mine,’ said Nina, acid in her voice at the thought. ‘One I reversed as soon as I was appointed director. I rate science higher than publicity.’
‘Both have their place. And you are no stranger to publicity yourself.’
‘Not always intentionally, I can assure you. But that’s why we chose to display these particular pages of the Codex.’ Nina indicated the scribed metal sheets. ‘Pictures of them had already been released.’
‘But it is these pages that caught my interest.’ For the first time, a hint of emotion - excitement - came into Khoil’s mechanical voice as he pointed out the bottom half of the second page. ‘This text here - it is not Atlantean, but Vedic Sanskrit.’ He looked at Nina. ‘The language of ancient India.’
‘Yes, I know. It was in use up to about six hundred BC, when it was replaced by Classical Sanskrit, but nobody was sure how long it had been used before that - until now, anyway. Atlantis sank around nine thousand BC, so for Talonor to have encountered the language it must have existed before then.’
‘And so must Indian civilisation.’ Khoil circled the display case to examine the impression in the book’s thick cover. ‘A civilisation based on the teachings of the Vedas . . . which are still followed today. Making Hinduism the world’s oldest surviving religion.’ He smiled, the expression oddly out of place on his placid face. ‘And increasing the likelihood of one of its schools being the only true religion, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I try not to get involved in religious debates,’ Nina said firmly. The conflict between archaeological discoveries and dogma had almost got her killed on more than one occasion.
Khoil put his face almost against the glass as he peered intently at the indentation. Standing nearby with Vanita, Eddie felt compelled to break the silence. ‘So, Mrs Khoil,’ he said, ‘how did you meet your husband?’ She gave him a dismissive look, not interested in small talk. He took that as a challenge. ‘What first attracted you to the billionaire Pramesh Khoil?’
Vanita bared her teeth in response to the little joke. ‘Do you think I’m some kind of gold-digger?’ she snapped.
‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ said Eddie hastily. ‘It was just—’
‘I got my
‘Just ask, to coin a phrase! Dr Sharpe and I will be happy to answer any questions,’ Nina said, addressing the group.
As she’d expected, the majority of questions were about the crown. But the Khoils were more interested in another artefact. ‘The Talonor Codex,’ said Khoil, bending for a closer look. ‘How much of it has been translated?’
‘About ninety per cent, so far,’ said Nina. ‘Dr Sharpe has been in charge of the translation work. The last ten per cent is the tricky part, but our knowledge of the Atlantean language is growing all the time.’
‘Have you considered using crowd-sourcing to speed up the process?’
Nina was surprised by the question. ‘Er, not really. It’s not how we work.’
He regarded her owlishly. ‘Dispersing the project throughout a network would be quicker than concentrating it amongst a few people. Aggregating a larger number of results would also reduce the probability of individual error. My company can provide suitable software - for a very reasonable fee.’
‘Archaeology isn’t really like computer science,’ said Nina. ‘Besides, we want to keep the translation work in-house for security reasons. The Codex describes a lot of places visited by Talonor, which are all potential sites of great archaeological importance. If we made it publicly available too soon, they could be raided before we had a chance to examine them.’
‘But some pages have already been made available online by the IHA.’
‘That was my predecessor’s decision, not mine,’ said Nina, acid in her voice at the thought. ‘One I reversed as soon as I was appointed director. I rate science higher than publicity.’
‘Both have their place. And you are no stranger to publicity yourself.’
‘Not always intentionally, I can assure you. But that’s why we chose to display these particular pages of the Codex.’ Nina indicated the scribed metal sheets. ‘Pictures of them had already been released.’
‘But it is these pages that caught my interest.’ For the first time, a hint of emotion - excitement - came into Khoil’s mechanical voice as he pointed out the bottom half of the second page. ‘This text here - it is not Atlantean, but Vedic Sanskrit.’ He looked at Nina. ‘The language of ancient India.’
‘Yes, I know. It was in use up to about six hundred BC, when it was replaced by Classical Sanskrit, but nobody was sure how long it had been used before that - until now, anyway. Atlantis sank around nine thousand BC, so for Talonor to have encountered the language it must have existed before then.’
‘And so must Indian civilisation.’ Khoil circled the display case to examine the impression in the book’s thick cover. ‘A civilisation based on the teachings of the Vedas . . . which are still followed today. Making Hinduism the world’s oldest surviving religion.’ He smiled, the expression oddly out of place on his placid face. ‘And increasing the likelihood of one of its schools being the only true religion, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I try not to get involved in religious debates,’ Nina said firmly. The conflict between archaeological discoveries and dogma had almost got her killed on more than one occasion.
Khoil put his face almost against the glass as he peered intently at the indentation. Standing nearby with Vanita, Eddie felt compelled to break the silence. ‘So, Mrs Khoil,’ he said, ‘how did you meet your husband?’ She gave him a dismissive look, not interested in small talk. He took that as a challenge. ‘What first attracted you to the billionaire Pramesh Khoil?’
Vanita bared her teeth in response to the little joke. ‘Do you think I’m some kind of gold-digger?’ she snapped.
‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ said Eddie hastily. ‘It was just—’
‘I got my
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