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Lyra walks into a room to see her grandfather and a boy around her age that she and only assume is Milo Thatch. They both turn towards her when they hear the door, that is now behind her, open and shut. Her grandfather has a smile on his face while Milo looks confused. Lyra smiles at the both of them. "Sorry that I was late, I had business to take care of. I assume your Mr. Thatch?" Once Lyra is standing in front of him, she holds out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Lyra Whitmore, Preston Whitmore is my grandfather."
Milo nods his head and takes Lyra's hand. "Y-yes. That's me. Milo is fine. B-but I still don't understand why I am here. Or why you gave me The Shepherd's Journal. I know you think it's a fake Mr. Whitmore but my grandfather would have known if it was a fake. I would know." Lyra walks around the table seeming like she is not paying attention. "I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in, that this is the genuine Shepherd's Journal."
Whitmore threw up his hands. "All right, all right. So, what do you want to do with it?" Lyra move over the aquarium which her grandfather follows. Lyra looks at the fish while Whitmore sits at a table. Milo follows them both.
"W-w-well, I'll..." Milo takes s deep breath. "I'll get funding. I mean, I'll.. The museum..."
"They'll never believe you." Whitmore states.
"I'll show them! I will make them believe."
"Like you did today?"
Milo smiles. "Yes! Well, no. How did you..." Milo sighs and shakes his head. "Forget about them, okay? Never mind. "I will find Atlantis on my own. I mean, of I have to rent a rowboat!"
Lyra and Whitmore smile. "Congratulations, Milo. This is exactly what I wanted to hear. But forget the rowboat, son." Whitmore presses a button, and a model of a submarine raises from the table. "We'll travel in style."
Lyra smiles and takes a step forward. "It's all been arranged."
Milo looks confused while picking up a piece of the model. "Why?" Lyra takes the piece from him and put's it back in it's place.
Whitmore put his hand on Milo's shoulder, leading to somewhere else in the room. "For years, your granddad bent my ear, with stories about that old book. I didn't buy it for a minute, well, I didn't till my very own granddaughter started getting interested in Atlantis. So, I gave in and made a bet with the old coot. I said, 'Thatch, if you ever actually find that so called journal, not only will I finance the expedition, but I'll kiss you full on the mouth." Whitmore shows Milo a picture that Lyra had taken showing the aftermath of the two kissing. "Imagine my embarrassment when he found the dam thing. Now, I know your grandfather's gone, Milo. God rest his soul, but Preston Whitmore is a man who keeps his word."
Lyra smiles in the fond memories that had the older Thatch.
Whitmore hits his can on a photo with Thatch. "I'm going to the afterlife with a clear conscience, by thunder!" Whitmore calms down and Lyra goes over to him and puts her arm around his shoulder. Whitmore smiles at her. "Your grandpa was a great man. You probably don't realize how great. Those buffoons at the museum dragged him down, made a laughingstock of him. He died a broken man. If I could bring back just one shred of proof. That'd be enough for me." Whitmore took a deep breath. "What are we standing around for? We got work to do."
"But, Mr. Whitmore you know, in order to do what you're proposing you're goanna to need a crew."
Lyra smiles. "Taken care of."
"You'll need engineers and... And geologist."
"We got them all, Mr. Thatch. The best of the best."
Then Whitmore names off all the crew. "It's the same crew that brought the journal back."
"Where was it?"
"Iceland."
Milo jumps up and down. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"All we need now is another expert in gibberish. So, it's decision time. You can build on the foundation your grandfather left you or you can go back to your boiler room."
Milo falls back into a chair. "This is for real."
Both of the Whitmore's smile. "Now you're catching on."
Milo nod's his head and stands up. "All right. Okay. I'll have to quit my job."
"It's done. You resigned this afternoon."
"I did?"
"Yes. Don't like to leave loose ends."
"My apartment. I have to give notice."
"Taken care of."
"My Clothes?"
"Packed."
"My books."
"In storage."
"My cat?"
Lyra bends under the table and pulls out a animal crate. She opens the door and takes out the cat before standing up. Lyra smiles as the cats starts purring in her arms. "Will be in my grandfather's care till you get back."
Milo gets wide eyed. "My gosh."
Whitmore stands up. "Your granddad had a saying, 'Ours lives are remembered, by the gifts we leave our children.'" Whitmore puts the Journal in Milo's hand's. "This journal is his gift to you, Milo. Atlantis is waiting. What do you say?"
"I'm your man, Mr. Whitmore. You will not regret this. Boy I am so excited. I-I can't even hold it in."
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