Room 204 in the Archaeology Department had hosted thousands of lectures over the years, its uncomfortable chairs and dated AV equipment familiar to generations of academics. Sarah and Marcus arrived early, finding seats near the back as the usual mix of faculty, graduate students, and a handful of professional photographers filtered in.

"Did you bring the journal?" Marcus asked quietly.

Sarah nodded, pulling out Professor Clarke's notes. "Look at this passage about the Gurvan Saikhan temple complex. The measurements are fascinating - each survey team from the expedition recorded different dimensions, but they all insisted their measurements were precise."

Before Marcus could respond, Professor Wilson settled into the seat beside Sarah. "Been a while since we've had a full house for a departmental lecture," he said. "Though I suppose Dr. Swift's claims about her great-grandmother's photographic techniques have attracted attention beyond the usual crowd."

Dr. Swift began her setup at the front, efficiently connecting her laptop to the projector. Her presentation style was methodical, building from accepted archaeological photography techniques toward her more controversial findings.

"Early archaeological photography faced significant technical challenges," she began, showing a series of conventional site documentation images. "My great-grandmother's innovation was primarily in her approach to extended exposure times and specialized filtering techniques."

She clicked to the next slide, showing parallel images of a monastery courtyard. "These were taken in 1908 during the Inner Mongolia Expedition. Notice how certain architectural features appear more prominently in the filtered exposure." She pointed to subtle differences in the stonework patterns.

"Standard chemical degradation," someone muttered from the front row.

"A reasonable assumption," Swift acknowledged. "However, these patterns persist across different photographic processes." She showed a series of technical diagrams detailing her great-grandmother's methodology. "The technique involved multiple cross-referenced exposures, each using different chemical treatments."

The room divided along predictable lines as the lecture progressed. The traditional academics took skeptical notes, while others leaned forward with obvious interest as Swift described the correlation between photographic anomalies and discrepancies in architectural surveys.

Wilson shifted uncomfortably when Swift began discussing patterns in how certain architectural features seemed to resist proper documentation. Sarah had noticed his growing concern with her recent research direction - subtle at first, but increasingly apparent in his responses to her draft papers.

The Q&A session that followed was politely contentious. "Dr. Swift," Professor Harrison called out, "have you considered more prosaic explanations? Equipment limitations, chemical interactions, simple human error in documentation?"

"Of course," Swift replied. "In fact, I've reproduced these results using modern digital equipment." She showed comparison images from recent surveys. "The anomalous patterns persist across completely different imaging technologies."

The reception that followed was held in the senior common room. Wilson caught Sarah near the refreshments table before she could join Marcus.

"Sarah," he said quietly, "you know I've always supported your research directions. Your work on Sanskrit prayer cycles was groundbreaking. But lately..." He hesitated. "This focus on systematic absences, and now these photographic anomalies... I'm concerned you're straying into questionable territory."

"The patterns are there, Professor," Sarah said carefully. "The same types of omissions, across different cultures and time periods. You're the one who taught me to follow the evidence, even when it leads to unexpected places."

"Evidence, yes. But some of these conclusions..." He sighed. "Just... be careful. Academic reputations are fragile things." He touched her arm briefly, a paternal gesture of genuine concern, before moving away to join a group of senior faculty.

Dr. Swift approached as Wilson left, her camera bag still slung over one shoulder. "Dr. Chen? Rebecca Swift. I've been hoping to discuss your work on ritual structures. The correlation with photographic anomalies is... striking."

"Your great-grandmother's technique," Sarah began, but they were interrupted by a tall man in an impeccably tailored suit.

"Dr. Swift. Excellent presentation." He offered his hand. "James Wainwright III. The Foundation has been following your research with great interest."

"Mr. Wainwright." Swift's professional smile gained an edge. "I wasn't expecting the Foundation's director to attend a departmental lecture."

"Please, call me James. And I wouldn't miss this. Your photographic analysis touches on some... personal research interests." He turned to include Sarah and Marcus, who had joined them quietly. "Dr. Chen, Mr. Pierce - I've been looking forward to meeting you both properly. Your work on systematic absences has been fascinating reading."

"I admit, I'm curious about the Foundation's interest in architectural photography," Sarah said, studying him. Without the ability to read faces, she had learned to notice other details - the way he held himself with careful poise, how his suit was perfectly tailored yet seemed somehow not quite his own, the slight hesitation before each gesture as if he were following a script he hadn't quite memorized.

"My grandfather's expedition left quite a legacy of unanswered questions," Wainwright said. "Questions I've spent considerable time trying to unravel. Dr. Swift's work with her great-grandmother's photographs, your research on textual patterns, Mr. Pierce's archival discoveries... They all point to something that was happening in Mongolia in 1908. Something that never made it into the official reports."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Marcus spoke up, his quiet voice somehow cutting through the reception's ambient noise. "The university records show substantial ongoing Foundation funding well after the expedition's official end."

"Yes, well," Wainwright took a measured sip of wine that was definitely not available at the reception's beverage table. "Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private? I have some family papers in my office that might interest you all. Including," he glanced at Swift, "some of Eleanor Swift's original notes that never made it into the official expedition records." Rebecca perked up at this.

Sarah noticed how the other reception guests had organized themselves into distinct groups - the traditional academics clustered near the door, discussing methodological concerns, while scattered throughout the room, smaller groups were engaged in much quieter conversations about photographic techniques and architectural survey methods.

"My office isn't far," Wainwright said. "Shall we continue our discussion there? I believe we all have findings to share that might be better discussed away from the general reception."

Sarah glanced at Marcus and Swift, seeing her own curiosity reflected in their expressions. Swift nodded slightly, adjusting her camera bag. "Lead the way, Mr. Wainwright. I'd very much like to see my great-grandmother's notes."

As they left the reception, Sarah caught Wilson watching their departure with poorly concealed concern. Tomorrow would bring difficult conversations about academic rigor and career implications, but tonight... Tonight they might finally start piecing together what had really happened in Mongolia in 1908.

"The Foundation's offices are in the old Porter Building," Wainwright said as they stepped into the autumn evening. "I think you'll find our archives quite... illuminating."

Behind them, the reception continued, the ordinary academic world discussing methodology and funding while they walked toward something else entirely, something that had been waiting since 1908 to be properly understood.

The Porter Building stood apart from the university's main campus, its Victorian architecture a stark contrast to the surrounding modernist structures. Wainwright led them through a side entrance, past a security desk where the guard nodded without asking for identification.

"The Foundation maintained its own archives," Wainwright explained as they climbed a wooden staircase that creaked under their feet. "My grandfather was... particular about documentation. Everything cataloged in duplicate, one copy for the university, one for our private records."

His office occupied what must have been the building's original library, with high windows and built-in bookshelves that reached toward an ornate ceiling. A massive desk dominated one end of the room, its surface clear except for a single leather portfolio.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Wainwright gestured to a cluster of leather chairs. "Dr. Swift, I believe these might interest you first." He withdrew a stack of notebooks from a drawer, their pages yellow with age. "Your great-grandmother's personal documentation of the photographic processes she developed for the expedition."

Swift accepted the notebooks with careful hands. "These were supposed to be lost in the fire at her studio in 1912."

"The Foundation maintained copies," Wainwright said. "Though I believe you'll find these are the originals. The fire... was not entirely accidental."

"The university records mention that fire," Marcus said. "Along with several other convenient accidents that destroyed expedition documentation."

"Yes, well," Wainwright settled behind his desk, "what's interesting isn't what was destroyed, but what was carefully preserved." He opened the portfolio. "Dr. Chen, that passage you were discussing from Professor Clarke's journal - about the temple measurements? Compare it to this."

He handed Sarah a sheet of architectural drawings, the paper oddly heavy. The plans showed a temple complex, its proportions meticulously noted in multiple hands. Each set of measurements contradicted the others, yet all bore signs of careful, professional surveying.

"These are all correct," Swift said suddenly, looking up from her great-grandmother's notebooks. "She writes here about something she called 'perspective inconsistency' - how the buildings seemed to change depending on how you approached them. She developed her photographic technique specifically to document these variations."

"My grandfather's diary suggests they chose those specific sites deliberately," Wainwright said. "Though his reasons are... unclear. He references meetings with local guides, arrangements made before the expedition even left England."

"The funding patterns support that," Marcus added. "I see here records of payments to monasteries in the region dating back to 1902, establishing relationships years before the official expedition."

Sarah studied the architectural drawings. "These measurement variations - they match patterns I've found in religious texts. Places where sacred geometry seems to... shift between tellings. As if the physical space is responding to something in the ritual procedures."

"Exactly," Swift said, excitement creeping into her professional tone. "Look at these exposure notes. She found that certain architectural features only appeared in photographs taken at specific times, following specific procedures. It wasn't just about exposure length or chemical treatment - it was about when and how you looked."

"Which brings us to why I wanted to meet privately," Wainwright said. He stood and walked to one of the tall windows, seeming to check the darkening evening sky. "The Foundation is preparing to fund a new expedition. We have reason to believe that certain astronomical alignments will make this an ideal time to revisit the sites."

"You want to recreate the 1908 expedition?" Marcus asked.

"Not recreate," Wainwright turned back to them. "Complete. We've spent decades gathering the fragments they left behind. Dr. Swift's photographic techniques, Dr. Chen's pattern analysis, Mr. Pierce's archival discoveries - together they form a methodology the original expedition lacked."

"Why now?" Sarah asked.

"Because the patterns are shifting," Swift said suddenly, still reading her great-grandmother's notes. "These measurements, these photographic anomalies - they're not random. They follow cycles. Eleanor tracked them for years before the expedition. And if her calculations are correct..."

"We have a window of opportunity," Wainwright finished. "The Foundation is prepared to fully fund the research. Private aircraft, local guides, the latest documentation equipment. Everything you need to finally understand what they found in 1908."

"And what exactly do you think they found?" Marcus asked quietly.

Wainwright smiled slightly. "That's what we aim to discover. Though I have some theories. Dr. Swift's photographic evidence of architecture that... transforms. Dr. Chen's patterns of systematic omission in religious texts. Mr. Pierce's ongoing difficulties with records that seem to actively resist categorization." He paused. "The question is: are you willing to pursue those theories beyond the safe confines of academic speculation?"

Sarah thought of Wilson's concerned expression at the reception, of carefully built academic reputations and the comfortable certainty of conventional research. Then she thought of Li-mei, of patterns in hospital records, of photographs that changed between viewings.

"When would this expedition begin?" she asked.