"There's a theory going around about languages being translated somehow," Indy threw out, not in the mood to give up his own pet theory so easily. He didn't really believe that they were hearing and reading translations either, but you never knew. No sense ruling out possible improbabilities just yet. "If you believe in that kind of thing. If you write more than one language, you might want to contribute to the project on the message board."

Really, he recognized, he just didn't want to believe it was his guys doing this. Sure, the U.S. government wasn't perfect (for one thing, it could stand to start doing actual research on the major, barely-touched archaeological finds it had in its possession), but the idea of an operation like this being run by good old Uncle Sam just strained his credulity. He'd believe it only when he had more substantive evidence than a couple of maybe-Canadian accents.

For now, he picked up his gear and waited for Pierson, ready to offload his own armload into the box or shoulder some of the weight as necessary. "What's that?" he asked.