Atlantis: The Lost Empire Page #4

What else have you,

uh, got in there?

Oh, eh, gunpowder,

nitroglycerin, notepads...

fuses, wicks, glue, and...

paper clips.

Big ones.

You know, just,

uh, office supplies.

Milo! Where you been?

I want you to meet

Commander Rourke.

He led the Iceland team

that brought the Journal back.

Milo Thatch.

Pleasure to meet the grandson

of old Thaddeus.

I see you got that journal.

Nice pictures, but...

I prefer a good western myself.

Pretty impressive, eh?

Boy, when you settle a bet,

y-you settle a bet.

Well, your granddad

always believed...

you couldn't put a price

on the pursuit of knowledge.

Well, uh, believe me

this'll be small change...

compared to the value

of what we're gonna...

learn on this trip.

Yes, this should be

enriching for all of us.

PACKARD:
Attention,

all personnel.

Launch will commence

in 15 minutes.

- Mr. Whitmore.

- Rourke.

ROURKE:

It's time.

- Bye, Mr. Whitmore!

- Make us proud, boy!

DIVING OFFICER:

Rig ship for dive!

CHIEF OF THE WATCH:

Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive.

Lieutenant, take her down.

Diving officer,

submerge the ship.

Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

DIVING OFFICER:

Make the depth 1-5-0 feet.

INTERCOM:
Dive, dive!

Five degrees down bubble.

DIVING OFFICER:

Take us down.

[Warning alarm buzzes]

PACKARD:
Attention.

Tonight's supper

will be baked beans.

Musical program to follow.

[Sighs]

PACKARD:
Who wrote this?

Aah!

You have disturbed the dirt.

- Uh, pardon me?

- You have disturbed the dirt!

Dirt from around the globe,

spanning the centuries!

[Gasps] What have you done?

England must never

merge with France!

- What's it doin' in my bed?

- You ask too many questions.

Who are you?

Who sent you? Speak up!

- Me? I'm, uh...

- Bah! I will know soon enough.

Hey, hey, hey!

Let go!

Do not be such a crybaby.

Hold still.

Aha! There you are.

Now tell me your story,

my little friend.

Parchment fiber from

the Nile circa 500 B. C.

Lead pencil, number 2.

Paint flecks...

of a type used

in government buildings.

You have a cat,

short-haired Persian...

two years old,

third in a litter of seven.

There are all

the microscopic fingerprints...

of the mapmaker.

And linguist.

- Hey, how did you...

- This is an outrage!

You must leave at once!

Out, out, out, out, out!

Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt,

didn't you?

Moliere, now what

have I told you...

about playing nice

with the other kids?

Get back. I've got soap,

and I'm not afraid to use it.

[Hisses]

Back, foul creature!

Back to the pit

from which you came!

[Grunts]

The name's Sweet.

Joshua Sweet.

Medical officer.

MILO:
Yeah, Milo Thatch.

Milo Thatch.

You're my 3:
00.

Well, no time like the present.

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