The Archaeological Discoveries of Sara and Anne

There was someone else out there. There had never been anyone else out there, not in the weeks and weeks that Anne had spent sneaking out to the Old City. That was why she did it. Everyone else stayed in New Chicago, building things and growing things and repairing things and generally being too loud and bright and busy for Anne to get a moments peace.

The Old City, on the other hand, was quiet and still, and filled with half-collapsed buildings and piles of bricks and concrete with ivy and daisies and trees growing all over them that made excellent hiding places for an eight-year-old girl who just wanted to sit and read from her pad without any adults around to interrupt her.

There were still skyscrapers in the Old City, but Anne stayed well away from them, choosing to stay out in the housing districts, where the walls were low and the roofs had already mostly collapsed, because all the signs on the fence around the Old City said things like DANGER KEEP OUT and UNSTABLE STRUCTURE and RISK OF DEATH and Anne might be disobedient but she wasn't stupid.

She had a nice little nook where a tree had grown up through one of the falling-down houses and the one of the branches stretched out low to the ground and made a wonderful natural bench for her to perch on as she read, close enough to the wall for her to be able to lean backwards without falling off. It was quiet and private and peaceful - or it had been. Until she showed up.

Whoever she was, she was weird. She was dressed like a construction worker even though she couldn't be older than Anne, in heavy boots and overalls, her dark curly hair tied back under a scarf. In fact, she looked like she might be shorter than Anne, so she was probably seven or something equally unfortunate.

She had a tool belt and a scanner which she was using on everything, even the ground, which was so stupid because anyone could see that it was just old bricks and concrete and dirt, but the girl kept on doing it anyway, so absorbed in her strange task that she hadn't even noticed Anne, even though she had given up on hiding ages ago, when her knees had started to hurt from crouching behind the wall for so long.

All of a sudden, the scanner made a loud beeping noise, and the girl gasped and fumbled with it, mouth open and eyes all lit up like something exciting had happened. Anne perked up, thinking that she might see something interesting, but all the other girl did was crouch down to start digging, of all things, and Anne couldn't bear it any more.

"What are you doing?" She asked loudly, leaning out of the window. Her reading-house was on a bit of a hill, putting her in the perfect position to try out looming over someone. She'd never been able to loom over anyone before. She found that she quite liked it.

The other girl started and attempted to stand, but her feet slipped on the loose pile of bricks she was crouched on and she fell back on her butt instead. She squinted up at Anne, face twisted up in a scowl.

"Archaeology." She said, sounding very much like she wanted to add a duh to the end of it. "What are you doing?"

"This is my reading spot," Anne retorted, still enjoying the physical and moral high ground. "Whats ark-ee-oller-gee?"

"Archaeology. It's digging for old things and working out what they were for." The girl picked herself up and dusted herself down. "My scanner says there's something big and metal just under here." She pointed down at her feet.

Anne wrinkled her nose. "Why would you dig for old things?"

"To learn about dead people!" Which was actually an excellent reason, Anne thought, interested despite herself.

"Can I help?" She asked. The other girl thought about it for a minute.

"Okay," she decided. "But I get to put my name first on any discoveries we make." Anne shrugged agreeably, clambering out of the window. That was fair, she supposed.

"I'm Anne," she said as she reached the other girl, holding out her hand to shake.

"I'm Sara," the other girl took it. They smiled at each other, then crouched down to start digging.

Fifteen minutes later, and Anne's fingers were scraped-raw and aching from the rough bricks and her back was complaining loudly. She was beginning to regret getting involved. She was just about to say so, when Sara let out a delighted cry and started to dig faster, exposing the corner of something square and dusty and made of metal.

"There it is!" She screeched, scrabbling at the corner of whatever it was, trying to wiggle it free, and Anne forgot all about her aching hands and helped, excitement zinging through her. A few more minutes of focused excavation, and it was exposed, some sort of metal box, badly dented and held closed by a broken padlock.

"What d'you think is in it?" Anne whispered.

"I dunno." Sara whispered back. "I think it might be some sort of treasure chest." Anne's heart leapt. Fingers trembling, she reached out to pull the padlock off. Just as she was about to lift the lid, Sara shrieked.

"Wait!" She dug frantically at something in her pocket, muttering "Come on, come on," under her breath as it stubbornly stayed put. Finally, triumphant, she pulled it out and held it aloft.

"I have to record our first discovery!" She said, grinning as she lowered the little black book she held in her hands.

"Is that a notebook?" Anne asked, intrigued. Sara nodded at her, tongue sticking out as she carefully flipped it open and pulled out an actual pen. "My Grandma told me about those. She said they were Ob-so-lete Technology."

It was very nice looking, though, with a smooth black cover and crisp, neatly-lined white pages. The pen was black too, shiny and expensive-looking.

"They are, really," Sara told her, looking sort of wistful about it. "It's much easier to use Pads, these days. But my Dad says that if you do something you should do it properly, and proper archaeologists use notebooks." She tapped the pen against the page with great authority. "You can open it now," she added, nodding at the box.

Bursting with anticipation, Anne grasped the lid, lifting it with bated breath. At first glance, the contents were disappointing, dozens of little boxes of varying size clumped together at the bottom of the chest. Next to her, Sara made a soft noise of dejection, which turned to elation when Anne opened the nearest box to reveal a sparkling gemstone, nestled snugly on a bed of soft fabric.

"It is a treasure chest!" Sara whispered, awed. "Someone must have made it when the war started." Anne nodded, unable to believe their luck.

"Let's open the rest."

Eagerly, they went through all the other boxes, oohing and aahing over the contents. Anne did most of the opening, while Sara watched and scribbled furiously in her notebook. At the bottom of the chest was a dark cylindrical lump, and Anne frowned as she fished it out.

"What's this supposed to be?" She turned it over in her hands. It was a roll of what looked like hundreds of small green paper rectangles, all identical. It was much more disappointing than the jewelry. Why would anyone keep it in a treasure chest?

"It's money!" Sara exclaimed, dropping her notebook as she peered closer. "The really old kind that they used before they invented the internet!"

"Oh," Anne said, wide-eyed. "I didn't know they had money before the internet. How much is it?"

Sara furrowed her brow, turning the roll over and over in her hands, until she suddenly inhaled and pulled a smaller piece of white paper from where it had been tucked away inside the roll. Anne leaned in to read it over her shoulder. $20,000, the note proclaimed.

"Is that a lot, do you think?"

"Must be. It wouldn't be treasure if it wasn't."

"What do we do with it now?" Anne wondered. The chest itself was much too big to carry, and if she took any of the treasure home then her parents would ask questions, and then they'd find out about her sneaking out to the Old City, and then she would be too grounded to do it anymore.

"Well... most archaeological discoveries go to museums," Sara said hesitantly. "But I don't think New Chicago has one of those yet." Both girls considered that.

"We could make our own," suggested Anne. "There's a really deep basement over there -" she pointed - "that would keep everything dry, and the walls are solid stone so they won't fall in."

Sara looked star-struck at the idea.

"The Sara-Anne Museum of Old Chicago," She whispered reverently and scooped up her notebook. "Show me!" She demanded, and Anne grinned, jumping up.

"It's over this way, come on! I found it when I first started exploring but it's super dark and creepy so I couldn't read down there."

"Don't worry, I love creepy things. And I have a flashlight in my tool belt."

"My parents won't get me one. But then, I never thought to ask them so that's probably why."

"Probably. What was the basement used for?"

"No idea. Maybe we should archaeologise that next!"

"Archaeologise isn't a word."

"Yes it is, I just said it."