Tomb Raider: The Ten Thousand Immortals by Dan Abnett, Nik Vincent

us about the people that made them and the times they lived in. They also tell us something about all the hands they passed through, and they tell us about ourselves.”
    “Perhaps you’re not quite the pragmatist you pretend to be, Professor,” said Lara.
    “When did I pretend to be a pragmatist?” asked Babbington. “Will you stay for my lecture later this afternoon? It’s part of a series, with two more over the next few days. I could arrange for a guest room in college if you’d like.”
    Lara hadn’t planned to stay in Oxford, but with one door apparently closing, she was keen to find a way to open another.
    “A couple of my post-grads are very good, and one of them is concentrating his studies on Colchis. You’ll find we have a lively debate,” said Babbington.
    “In that case, I think I will stay. Thank you,” said Lara.
    “Good,” said Babbington. “Let’s get you set up.”
    Chapter 8
    T he second lecture was scheduled for Thursday morning.
    Lara had sat in on the first, and Babbington had been right; it was interesting. The group was a small one, and the lecture was intimate and clearly tailored to the needs of the graduate students present. There was a discussion of archaeology, and also of search and recovery where archaeological sites had been historically pillaged. There was reference to dating and identification of objects, but also to myths and legends surrounding particular artifacts.
    No one interrupted the lecture, but at the end, two students asked questions and others joined in with opinions, and subsidiary questions were raised. Some of the questions were of a practical nature, others more esoteric or idealogical… “Romantic,” as Babbington might put it.
    At the end of Thursday’s lecture, Lara decided to ask a question of her own.
    “In what general context can we place artifacts of a perishable nature?” she asked.
    “Ah...” said Babbington. “Has everyone met Lara Croft? Miss Croft is interested in the Golden Fleece, but do we believe that she wants to discuss the properties of wool and the likelihood of it surviving for two millennia?”
    The students laughed.
    “Thank you, everybody,” said Babbington, “That’s it for today. I’ll see you all for the final lecture in this series tomorrow, and you can have a lie-in and a good lunch. We start at two.”
    As Lara reached the aisle from her seat in the second row of the lecture theatre, a tall, well-built man in his mid-twenties was waiting for her, a broad smile on his face. She’d noticed him at Babbington’s previous lecture, not least because he looked less like an archaeology student than anyone she had ever met.
    “You must be Lara Croft,” he said as she approached.
    “I guess I must,” she said.
    “Kennard Montez,” he said, stepping aside so that they were standing next to each other in the aisle. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
    “That rather depends,” said Lara, returning the smile that had never wavered from his face.
    “We have a shared interest,” he said. “I’m doing some work on Colchis, and I know a bit about the Golden Fleece. I thought we could swap stories.”
    “I should warn you that I know next to nothing about it,” said Lara.
    “Then, who knows?” said Kennard. “Perhaps I can help you out with your research.”
    “In that case, I’d love a cup of coffee,” said Lara. “The Randolph is just across the street?”
    “Why don’t we save ourselves the trouble and go next door to the Ashmolean?” said Kennard. “We can take a walk around room sixteen while we’re there.”
    “What’s room sixteen?” asked Lara.
    “Ancient Greece,” said Kennard as they left the lecture theatre. “No Golden Fleece, I’m afraid, but they’ve got some wonderful pieces. You’ll love it.”
    Kennard Montez had a soft, middle-American accent and a hard, athletic American body, and Lara felt a little wary of him. She reminded herself that she was in public, and perfectly safe.