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table
and set down her tray. She nodded to a gray haired man who set his
tray beside hers.
    “Now Mr. McLeod, you and
your friend tuck in. Don't let the chocolate get cold.”
    Justin smiled. “Thanks, Mrs. Mallon. This is
Aaron.”
    Aaron nodded and Mrs. Mallon patted his
shoulder. “Pleased to meet you, Mister..?”
    “Dalton, ma'am,” Aaron
said.
    “Good. Mr. Dalton it is.
As I've mentioned to Mr. McLeod, we follow the formalities here, at
least during meetings.” She gave Justin a last pat and smile and
walked to the back of the room.
    The two boys took mugs of hot chocolate.
Justin sipped his. It was delicious; thick and sweet with small
marshmallows floating on top. The sandwiches were excellent and,
after eating three of them, Justin began to feel better. He was
still confused about what was going on and worried about his mother
and Wilson but he felt calmer somehow. He looked at Aaron who was
munching steadily on his fourth or fifth sandwich and just grinned
suddenly. Aaron looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.
    “Sorry,” Justin said. “You
just look so...normal, chewing away like that. And this place is so
strange, that I suddenly felt better somehow.”
    Aaron swallowed a huge mouthful and
chuckled. Then his eyes widened and he grabbed his mug and washed
down the food that seemed to be stuck halfway. He drew in a deep
breath. “Whew, that was tight. But I think I know what you mean,
Justin. I mean, just having a friendly face nearby helps when
everything around you is kind of nuts, you know?”
    Justin nodded. He looked around at the
others. Everyone seemed a little calmer, although several of the
girls were just nibbling on their sandwiches and looked very sad.
The leader had picked up his papers while they ate and was going
over them, still leaning against his desk. He glanced up and seemed
to notice that most of them were finished. He cleared his throat
loudly and the group all turned to look at him.
    “Now that you are feeling
a bit better, I will try to explain what is going on. Many of you
will find the explanation hard to believe. That is to be expected.
As I said, we had not planned on you being here for quite some
time. By then, we would have already told you all of what I'm about
to relate, but much more slowly, so that you would have had time to
digest the facts and come to your own conclusions.” He set the
papers back on the desk and sighed. “But here we are, so I will
have to drop all of this on you and let you absorb it as best you
can. I apologize for that.”
    He folded his arms. “Let me start with some
history. Ancient history now. I assume that some of you have heard
of Atlantis. It was an island that legend says was inhabited by an
advanced people. There are tales that tell us that these people
were much like we are now, but with sciences and technologies
rivaling anything that exists today. It is even said that they had
invented flying machines, telephones and other modern technological
marvels.” He glanced around the room. “Lovely stories, I'm sure
you'd agree. But these legends are absolutely false.”
    Mr. Fitzgerald stopped as the room began to
buzz with conversation. Justin leaned over to Aaron. “Did you read
anything recently about Atlantis?”
    Aaron looked puzzled. “How did you know
that? Yeah, about a week ago, I got some weird email that had me
doing some research on it.”
    “Me too!” Justin
exclaimed. “I wonder what...”
    “I see that many of you,
perhaps all of you, are realizing that you share something in
common,” Mr. Fitzgerald said loudly. The room quieted down. “And in
answer to the obvious question, yes we are the ones who sent you
the emails, or the regular mail, or in one or two cases had one of
our people drop hints that set you on the road to delving into the
history of Atlantis. We were trying, you see, to prepare you
somewhat in case our mutual enemies began to move against you,
which they have.”
    “How did you know,