The Five-Day Dig Read Online Free PDF Page A

I hope that, eventually, linguists more skilled than I will verify my ideas, and I hope today’s lecture has stirred your mind.”
    She left the podium to hearty applause – nothing wild, but a notch or two above polite. Relieved, she began packing up her things.
    A handful of people came up and complimented her on the talk, some probably only being kind, but a couple with real enthusiasm.
    After about ten minutes, the last one wandered off, and only Chaz remained behind. As he closed his laptop and got up from the front row, she felt the last remnant of tension lift from her body.
    “ Brava . Epic presentation.” He glanced at the projector and computer she had used. “Can I help you with this equipment?”
    “Thanks, but the tech people will handle it.” She stuffed her notes and the flash drive holding her files into her bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. “We just need to lock the room when we leave.”
    He walked with her to the door. “Are you going to the luncheon reception now?”
    “Definitely.” They stepped into the hall, and she made sure the door locked behind them. “After this, I need a drink. And Dr. Farber will expect us to take one last stab at donor development.”
    They started toward the garden where the event was taking place.
    “There were heaps of curious tidbits in your lecture,” he said. “I didn’t peg you for a goddess-worshiper.”
    The comment confused her. “I’m not.”
    He looked skeptical. “Yet you’re ‘comforted’ by Mother Nature iconography.”
    “Being comforted is hardly the same as worshiping.”
    “Then what’s behind the comfort?”
    “That’s an interesting question.” She took a moment to consider it. “Maybe it’s genetic memory – something encoded in my genome from ancient ancestors. Or maybe it’s just a trace of superstition. Silly, really.”
    “Not at all. Surely we can acknowledge our spiritual side without being superstitious. Your audience clearly related to the idea.”
    “Thank goodness for that.” Through a pair of glass doors at the end of the hall, she could see people milling around in the garden beyond. The June weather looked fabulous. “Presenting a load of speculation in front of academics is a scary thing. I was sure they would all think it presumptuous of a classicist to write a book about etymology. It’s not my field.”
    “It’s not a huge leap.” He opened one of the doors and held it for her. “And academics love speculation. You’re just so used to Dr. Farber’s negativity that you expect it from everyone.”
    They stepped outside, and she held back from responding. Criticizing the department chair to a student wouldn’t be appropriate or wise, but she wasn’t about to defend the man either.
    Surrounded on three sides by the winged building they had left, the garden looked out on a hilly countryside, the view somewhat marred by a campus driveway with cars parked along it.
    They wandered toward a large tent set up with portable tables and folding chairs. Clustered in the shade, small groups of academics sat chatting, sipping wine and noshing on hors d’oeuvres.
    Along the way, a waiter carrying a tray of fluted glasses filled with effervescing white wine stopped next to them. “Prosecco?”
    “ Sì, grazie ,” she said, taking a glass.
    Chaz grabbed one, too, and the server moved on.
    Finding an empty table, she set down her things and took a seat. “I couldn’t spot Dr. Farber at my lecture. Did he tell you what he thought of it before he left?”
    Sitting down across from her, he held his wine up to his nose, staring into the glass. “He left before it started.”
    “My own department chair walked out?”
    He gave her an uneasy-looking smile. “Be happy about it. Now he can’t give you a critique.”
    “He’ll find a way.” The words slipped out before she could remind herself again about discretion. Taking a swig of her drink, she tried to think of something else to say but couldn’t