Tory had been surprised to find that sections of the site's large, quartz stone circle still remained and, digging a little way under the sand and soil on the ground, she uncovered pieces of the marble base. But the greatest discovery of the day was a solid gold altar box, engraved with the symbol of Caduceus. This was in the shape of a winged rod, with serpents entwining it in opposing directions. The sculpted rod had been the Atlantean symbol of the Lord of Time and Space, and this golden container had once housed the Ark of the Covenant, though, unfortunately, it did not any longer.

Perhaps it was best that such a powerful tool remained hidden from mankind for now.

Naturally, John was over the moon when he viewed the photographs. No other find had ever come close to this. He didn't even want to know how Tory had acquired them; 'whatever' was fast becoming his motto.

And on subsequent dives, whilst dodging their large friend, which was identified by those in the know as a Plesiosaur, akin to the fabled monster of Loch Ness, the subs followed the mountain range down into the valley to find an antiquity-seeker's paradise.

The lost city of Atlantis was officially declared found on the 15th of July 2017. Merlin I and II had photographed several sets of large gates made of solid gold that were half-buried amongst the flattened city ruins. These were dated correctly at over 12,000 years old, which convinced even the greatest sceptics that this was indeed the city Plato had described in Timaeus and Critias.

Once again Professor Miles Thurlow and Dr John Pearce found themselves in the spotlight. Every university that taught ancient history, archaeology, or oceanography was inviting them to speak.

The Goddess returned to the port of Horta on Faial to meet the press and pick up supplies. Miles and John were embarking on a string of lectures, primarily in Britain and the United States, that were looking like keeping them away for the better part of six months.

The remainder of the team would return to sea to continue surveying, and they would feed Miles and John any new photographs or information as it came to hand.

Though Tory knew this was all part of Miles' job, her last vision had foretold disaster, both natural and man-made. She didn't like it that her husband would be travelling throughout the two areas of the planet that were the most likely to be effected.

'Miles, couldn't you just postpone it for awhile?' She watched as her husband fastened his suitcase.

He looked at her as she knelt on their bed, wrapped up in a sheet. 'Tory, you really do make things difficult at times. Look, aren't you the one always telling me to trust in the universe?'

'Well, yes ... but the universe is telling me not to trust in the planet.' She crawled closer to him.

Miles glanced at the clock. 'And it's telling me to go, or I'll miss my connecting flight.' He kissed her to end the debate. He was going and the wrath of God would not stop him. There were still so many great scholars out there who thought, as he once had, that the present was as technologically advanced as mankind had ever been. But the Plato Project was now on the verge of blowing that theory right out of the water. 'Are you sure you'll be alright to handle the press here? I told you National Geographic are sending a guy.'

'No,' Tory frowned, 'you didn't.'

'I gave him permission to go to sea with you for a couple of weeks. He's doing a story on the dive sites and the Goddess facilities, and possibly our big fish. So make him feel at home. It could mean future projects for us.'

Miles ruffled her hair to vex her further.

'Oh, my lord!' Tory suddenly rose and moved to the porthole window.

There was a young man seated on a suitcase on the dock outside, looking kind of lost.

'Could this be him?' she wondered aloud.

Miles looked out the other porthole to see a rather scruffy-looking man, roughly thirty years of age, who could have been mistaken for either a bum or, perhaps, a tortured genius. 'Must be.'

Tory pulled on her jeans and a T-shirt, and moved out onto the pontoon to investigate.

The young man in question had his eyes lowered to the ground as Tory's shadow fell over him.

'Are you lost?'

When he looked up to view Tory, the sun was shining through her long golden hair and shed a halo of light around her. He was so stunned upon seeing her eyes of violet that he fell backwards, taking his suitcase with him. 'I ... t ...'s you!' he stammered, trying to pull himself out of his embarrassing predicament. 'You actually exist! Jesus, there is a God!'

Even with the bushy growth on his face there was no mistaking Sir Bryce. Tory was certainly curious to hear the story behind this obviously more than chance meeting, and so helped him to his feet.

'Sorry about that. It's just such a shock.' He pushed his glasses back up his nose, and shook her hand firmly.

'The name's Ray Murdock. And ah, who might you be?'

he inquired politely.

Tory hesitated to answer. It wasn't that she didn't trust this stranger, for in reality he was no stranger at all.

In the sixth century, this man had been the eldest son of a dear and valued friend. She wanted to get his end of the story clear first. 'Now, Ray. How can you know me, and not know who I am?'

Ray scratched his head through the masses of dark curls, pulled back into a long, ratty ponytail. 'I was kind of hoping you'd be able to tell me that.'

'You're not a reporter?'

'No way.' Ray had a chuckle and then paused to take a deep breath. 'Look, nothing I am about to say is going to make any sense, I'm warning you in advance.

But what the hell, here goes. I had a dream about two weeks back -'

'The thirtieth of June?' Tory clarified.

'Yeah.' Ray figured that was about right. 'I was advised to seek you out, and told where you might be found. The voice in my dream told me you could hide me someplace, where no one on Earth would ever find me.'

Ray fell silent as he noticed Miles and John Pearce exiting the Goddess.

Miles approached in a rush and kissed Tory goodbye.

'I've got to run.' He regarded her a moment - six months was a long time to be apart. 'You must be from National Geographic.' Miles looked to Ray and shook his hand. 'Sorry I can't chat, but Tory will fill you in on everything.'

'Hold on.' Ray was confused. 'Who are you?'

'I'm Professor Thurlow,' Miles informed him, watching the outsider back up a few paces.

'And you two are married, I presume?' He waved a finger from Miles to Tory, wondering why such a raving beauty would marry a graying old professor nearly twice her age.

'Twenty years.' Miles was proud to announce.

How was that possible? This woman must be a lot older than she looked. 'Now listen, God.' Ray walked further away to address the sky. 'You didn't say anything about this before you sent me off on this ridiculous quest.'

'I think he's had one too many rough assignments,'

Miles whispered sideways to Tory, then made a move to catch Pearce up. 'I'll see you in six months, maybe sooner if I can get away.' He blew her a kiss and gave a final wave.

Ray rubbed his hands briskly. 'Things are looking up.' He cocked an eye to the sky. 'You're off the hook, for the moment.'

'So, Ray.' Tory turned her attention back to him, folding her arms. 'Who's the no one you're hiding from?'

Ray closed the distance between them, seeming reluctant to confide in her. 'The CIA, the ICA, the Defence Department, NASA ... you name it.' He stared her straight in the eye but she didn't flinch. She wasn't doubtful, fearful or shocked.

'Why?' Her eyes narrowed. 'What is it you do?'

'I'm an electro-mechanical design engineer cum technician.' His voice had dropped to a whisper, and his eyes did a quick scan of the surrounding area to be sure no one might overhear. 'I've designed all manner of scary shit for various government departments, in the US mainly. Everything from weapons systems to utilities ... hell, I even spent six months in space, working on a tracking station.'

'Great Scott!' Tory backed up, her eyes rolling around as she put two and two together. 'It makes sense.'

'Well, I'm glad it makes sense to somebody.' Ray was still very confused. 'Who are you?' His eyes did another quick check around the piers. 'And don't you have anywhere we can talk that isn't quite so public?'

'Sure.' Tory wandered towards the gangplank to board the Goddess.

'You work for your husband then?' Ray collected his bag and followed her on board, admiring the vessel as he went.

'We're partners. He's the professor, my family own the rig.'

'You're shitting me?' The thought brought a smile to Ray's face for the first time in months.

'You ain't seen nothing yet.' Tory motioned him to follow her inside.

Ray got the grand tour of the Goddess and he was most impressed.

They were alone on the vessel this morning. The younger members of the crew had taken a small power boat to go snorkelling for the day. Everyone else was out shopping and picking up supplies or equipment parts.

'I can't believe you have a gym on board.' Ray shook his head at the sheer decadence of it while Tory made him a cappuccino.

'Most of us are fitness freaks here, and it helps the divers keep in shape.' Tory placed the coffee in front of him on the bar. 'A gym was our first major prerequisite, my bath was the second.'

'You have a bath on a bathyscape?' Ray was overwhelmed.

'Oh yes. It's all enclosed in its own little room, so it doesn't matter if the water splashes about.'

'But the water supply?'

'It has its own tank, and a filtration system to recycle the water.'

'Very clever,' he conceded. 'Completely frivolous, but clever.'

'Hello? Anybody home?'

'Oh shit.' Tory looked to Ray, stunned. 'That will be the reporter from National Geographic.'

'What!' His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

'The last thing I need is -'

'Shh,' she insisted. 'I'll handle this.'

'Why me, Lord?' Ray rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the breakfast bar, wrapping his arms around his head to hide.

'In here.' Tory came out from behind the bar to greet their guest when he came through the door.

The reporter struggled in with his bags, equipment, and cameras. His long, fair hair hung over his face, playing havoc with his line of vision. 'Hey there.' He dropped the hand luggage and shoulder bags, leaving only the four cameras that hung about his neck. 'Noah Purcel, National Geographic.' He swept the hair from his face to see who he was addressing, and held out his hand to Tory in a friendly fashion.

It took a moment for her to respond. Selwyn. Her heart leapt to see yet another ally from her distant past. He was of slight build, as Selwyn had been, and eyes of deep blue were set in a face that was open and full of expression.

She shook his hand. 'I'm Tory, the custodian and part-owner of the Goddess. On behalf of Project Plato, welcome aboard. '

'Thanks for having me.' He began turning in circles to check everything out. 'This is quite a rig you got here.' Noah noticed the large fellow slouched at the bar.

'You haven't seen the half of it,' Ray commented, without raising his head.

'This is Ray, our new on-board systems technician.'

Ray raised one hand and waved. 'It's his first day, he hasn't quite got his sea legs yet.' Tory steered Noah toward the corridor. 'Allow me to show you to your quarters. Once we offload all this ... stuff, I'll show you around.' Tory stood aside and motioned him out the door.

'It was nice not meeting you, Ray. Hope you're feeling better soon.' Noah received another wave from the technician as he left the dining quarters.

'Stay put,' Tory whispered to Ray. 'I'll be back.'

When they'd gone, Ray raised his head and wiped both hands down his face. 'That was ... scary.' He looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, stroking his long beard. 'Time for a change.'

Tory left Noah to unpack in his cabin. As all the guest quarters were located near one another, Tory decided to hide Ray in her cabin until such time as they could alter his appearance.

As it turned out, the fugitive had no personal effects with him. His suitcase contained books, notes, tools and a personal computer system. Tory rustled him up a pair of crew overalls, a towel, a shaver, and other bits and pieces he might need.

Ray now sat on the bed watching her, unable to really grasp the situation. 'I don't get it? Why would you do this? You know how much shit I'm in. Why risk all this on my account?'

'I'm not risking anything.' She dumped the bundle she'd put together into his arms. 'If they find you, I shall plead ignorance.'

He shook his head. 'You don't know these people.'

'And you don't know me.' Tory grinned.

'But somehow I get the feeling that you know me?'

Ray knew he was right. 'And you haven't answered my question?'

'Well, Ray, the truth is, I have a feeling that very soon I'm going to require the services of someone with your technological expertise. You see, I also have had a vision,' she confessed. 'As a matter of fact, it would have been the same day you had yours.'

Ray dared to smile. 'Was I in it?'

'No, but something you might possibly design was,'

Tory teased, raising her eyebrows. 'But more about that later. Right now, I'm going to leave you to it.' She motioned to the en suite.

'Yeah, but -'

'Uh!' She held up a finger. 'We can talk tonight, once you've had time to change. Meanwhile, I'd better go show our reporter friend around.'

'Ah ... Tory.' Ray detained her a second longer.

'Have I said "thank you" yet?'