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“I know. But it’s not like anyone can do anything about it even if it was on the nightly news. Look at the equipment on the island. At best, they could dive and confirm it’s man-made. No harm there.”
“Still, force of habit.”
“The boat will be here soon enough and whatever it is will still be there. Besides, it seems like the locals are so spooked by the area that we won’t have much to worry about.”
Vanya returned, a smile on her face. “Orwen can see you this morning if you’ll go to his office. Here’s the address,” she said, and handed Sam a business card with handwriting on the back.
“Thanks so much for this,” Remi said.
“My pleasure. Good luck with your mystery. What an exciting life you must lead if it’s always like this.”
“Well, there’s a lot of hurry up and wait, too,” Sam
said.
Manchester’s office was in one of the nicer buildings on the main street, two stories that looked like they had at least seen paint within the last ten years. A pleasant woman greeted them and showed them back to where Manchester was sitting, resplendent in his suit, behind a desk the size of an economy car.
“Please, sit. Vanya was very secretive on the phone. Said you’re on an adventure and need some help?”
“Well, I’m not sure about the adventure part,” Remi said.
Sam told him about the sunken ruins and Manchester’s eyes widened. When Sam concluded, the big man rose and moved to look out his window at the ocean.
“That’s quite a tale. I’m not sure what to make of it.” He hesitated. “What would you like me to do?”
“A couple of things. There has to be some kind of evidence of what the ruins are. Some historical reference, or at least a legend.”
“Perhaps. But we have no written history, so I wouldn’t expect much. I’ve never heard anything.”
“Maybe an elder who knows all the old stories?”
Manchester appeared to think. “There are a few relics who might be able to help you. But they’re out in the middle of nowhere. City life isn’t for them—they prefer the traditional ways.”
“Could you make any introductions?”
Manchester laughed. “It’s not like I can send them an e-mail. But I can give you directions and a note to show them. Although they probably can’t read, they might recognize the stationery.”
“That would be perfect.” Sam paused. “There’s also the question of how to get the government’s approval to investigate the site.”
“That I’ll need to think about. We’ve never really had anyone approach us to do anything resembling archaeology here, so it’s a first, at least as long as I’ve been a MP. I’m not sure there’s a procedure to follow.”
“That can be both good and bad,” Remi said.
“Yes. I understand. Wouldn’t want to run afoul of anyone’s sensibilities. I’ll have lunch with some of the other members of parliament and see what I can come up with. It’s not like you want mineral rights or anything, just to poke around in some sunken stones. Am I correct?”
“Absolutely. Anything we find would be the property of the Solomon people. We’re here merely out of curiosity.”
“I think that will go a long way to engendering support, then. You’re basically working for free, helping us catalog a piece of history we didn’t even know existed until today.”
“That’s how I’d present it,” Sam agreed.
Manchester smiled. “Well, I can’t guarantee a permit, but I’ll do what I can,” he said doubtfully.
“That’s all we can ask.”
“As for the oldsters, I have two people in mind. One lives down by Mbinu, halfway to the eastern tip of the island, and the other is more remote—he has a shack on a dirt road by the river east of the village of Aola. What are you driving?”
Sam and Remi exchanged a glance. “We have to find something to rent.”
