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Watching Ruhig enter he realizes Michelle is gone. The doctor waves him forward and Trevor follows him up the stairs to his office, observing the five foot four balding German place the paper lunch sack he is carrying at the exact
center of the wide
barren desk. Seating himself behind it, in a plush maroon leather chair, he draws his small paunch up to the edge of the dark oak desk. “What is the secret of life?” Dr. Ruhig asks in a sincerely earnest, solemnly dignified voice. The small
psychiatrist delicately removes the green basket full of fresh strawberries from the paper sack and again centers it on the desk, precisely aligning each corner of the basket with the corners of the empty desk. Lifting the smooth unwrinkled paper sack
from the desk he undertakes meticulously folding it; returning it to its original condition, then slides it into the center draw. It’s an old fashioned barter; a reasonable attempt to fathom an answer to the riddle is expected in exchange for this
month’s prescriptions. “Strawberries are the key to life.”
Ruhig waits hoping for another answer describing his display of bizarre behavior; or at least expresses an emotional response to a foolheaded question;
requesting a logical value assignment.
“There is no secret.” Trevor mumbles feeling defeated. The old man pushes the strawberries toward Trevor hoping he’ll accept one. He shakes his head fluttering side to side. Ruhig points at a chair and begins writing prescriptions. Trevor sits
opposite the doctor silently despising the strawberries.
“What news comes to us from the world of dreams?”
“The children seem covered in brown yellow orange and tan hair. When I look
close enough the werewolf faces are made of small horizontal glass beads with tiny people inside screaming.”
Handing Trevor six prescriptions, “Are these children on the boat?”
“No they are free floating as if I am trapped in a grey or colorless room.”
“Has the boat been given a name?”
“I don’t know. I have had success exiting the dream with the lamp technique”


The young ladies are ten steps behind Pierce. He opens the gate to the garden
and walks into the glass flower house. Old man Ferguson is blocking the gate to
the hothouse’s inner sanctum.
“Have you come here to kill me Pierce Daniels?” Ferguson asks deadly serious staring at Doc.
“I am not sure yet. Who has been sending me the cigar boxes full of hundred
dollar bills?”
“It’s most likely Robert Bitterman or Johnny LeMond. Use rubber gloves and give them to the neighbor across the hall for safekeeping. Alex is trustworthy; if he isn’t around call Harris.”
Catching up Auri and Lisa are peppering Gus with trivial questions carrying the groceries into the hothouse keeper’s shack where Augustus lives. The gifts stored the threesome are walking along admiring the exotic varieties of flowers. Michelle walks
in ignoring Augustus.
“At midnight Miss Faversham shall be at the old University library...” Aurian interrupts, “I’m not going anywhere near it. It’s haunted and gives me the creeps.” Michelle is standing between the two curly haired fluffy blondes. Lisa Templeton is a pale lithe ethereal beauty with green eyes,
small breasts and the
muscularity of a seventeen year old boy.
On her right the superstitious reluctant seer Aurian is a well-rounded of hips and breasts, buxom, blue eyed dynamo. Templeton is studying archeology and ancient languages. Aurian is studying business administration and marketing. Michelle is studying
graphic arts and art history.
The petite trio reminds Gus of a set of black encyclopedias protected by thick golden bookends.
Templeton lifts the silver chain around her neck holding a bright red transceiver and walks up to Gus confrontationally “Don’t make me hit the panic button you crazy old coot.”
“”This is wonderful!” He presses the button and nothing happens. They all begin counting.
“One… two… three… FOUR!” The swelling downdraft sweeps into the glass house beating the ground contingent by three seconds. Gus lets the pumping roll of the blades and back wash rattle his bones. Staring up at the two jet copters, Lisa
presses the button twice, then once and then three times. The small army of dark suited, sunglass wearing interlopers; let their automatic weapons fall loose in the slings and button their coats. Five seconds later the hothouse is silent.
Templeton turns on her heels to get nosey nose with Tatianni, “I am not afraid of ghosts.”
Aurian grudgingly exhales conceding with a sputter to play along with her crazy uncle’s naughty quest; shaking a fist at Gus, “Don’t make me regret
this you wisecracking trickster.”
Handing her a map of the library, with detailed instructions a five year old could comprehend, he watches McBain walk in to the flower garden. “Making a hell of a racket today aren’t we?”
McBain spoke boldly hoping to deflect Augustus. “Have you come here to kill me Trevor?”
Michelle’s crew having departed The Gardner is relieved to be alone again. The red fire lamp over the door blinks three times. Kicking the fountain’s foot latch and touching it lightly; the four level water dispenser slides silently aside. Checking
the compartment below is open he meets Alex and Harris at the front gate. Nobody spoke. Once inside all three men run to the hatch skipping the ladder and leap down the wide mouth into the tunnels entrance. Harris pulls two small pouches out of his mesh
windbreaker. The oiled door wheel is turning. Harris, Mathias and Augustus each
enter separate eight digit codes. The fountain above closes sealing the air locks with an authoritative hiss. The tunnels final door opens and Frank Harris
hands the two
nineteen year old captains of the expeditionary vessels one primary identity and six alternates.
Juzya Kydd is now Jason Knowles. Azrok Steppe is now Aaron Shepherd. They are
both foreign exchange students from Switzerland registered for a full load of the fall semester’s classes at Fairfield University. They are on partial hockey scholarships.
The cousins are both physics majors minoring in military history. Their base of
operations is assigned to the rarely occupied living quarters directly across from Pierce Daniels. An escape room is to be built there.
Juzya Kydd makes a quick verbal report “Ted has snipers deployed on the railroad tracks guarding a small 2085 gate that is opening and closing intermittently. I need help to distract him while I activate and tune it. The bridges are now closing
sealing the entrances to the chaos above.
The Skytrax remains situated as the dominant on lightmach-25. Our second expeditionary vessel The Manta is now moved to the disputed lightmach-24. Our worldwide search to recover
The Rover continues here on lightmach-23 focusing on both the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean.”
An electronic hum and popping of ears precede the fountain hatch opening; the youths climb out and leave with Frank Harris and Alex Mathias on a quick commute to the Harland Building.
Lisa taps her watch drumming her foot on the floor for the third time in five
minutes. McBain and Pierce are watching the late news. Aurian and Michelle are waiting by the back door.
“That flu thing she’s going on about has a lot of people worried.” Trevor states conversationally trying to rouse Doc from his glazed transfixion.
Pulling him up by the arm; “Let’s go!”
The gate guard Moses Abramson is sitting in the driver’s seat of Lisa’s 1975 Chrysler New Yorker Brougham, weighing in at five thousand pounds, sporting a four hundred and forty cubic inch V-8. The interior luxuries are too
numerous to discover on a
single road trip. The senator docks her weekly college stipend if she is seen operating any other vehicles. Her adventurous driving style is legendary. The vastness of the car slows her down and insures she would most probably survive if her high speed
driving skills failed to negotiate a difficult stretch of road.
Her ban on operating two wheeled vehicles remains in effect, a bounty placed on
any sighting.
Auri and Lisa up front: the peripheral members of her retinue pile into the plush cavernous rear.
Templeton presses the transceiver once and the two armored SUV’s ignite there
engines and headlamps. The three Victorian homes and outbuildings they are passing are the servant’s quarters for the main house. Lisa when landing with
her father on the
lawn as a youngster would yell at the helicopter pilots. “A giant mushroom’s invading Fairfield! Rally the troops for attack.”
Lisa’s grandfather bought the six hundred forty acre Reed Estate abutting the northern border of Oldham Air Force Base in 1955 from Silas Tobias. McBain and Pierce have played here since they were toddlers. Two of Bill Templeton’s
most trusted high
school associates, Timothy and Elaina, entered the religious life and returned to Fairfield as Father McCredie and Sister Francis. They were later assigned leadership responsibilities for the St. Mary’s Boys School orphanage.
The yellow busload of children arriving each weekend was a godsend for Bill’s
only child Lisa.
Aurian stuck in the middle between Lisa and Moses examines the library map for the night’s treasure hunt one last time handing it off to Templeton. Pierce is in the backseat loudly trying to convince McBain that he thinks his last few bouts with the
flu were probably the same one being talked about on the news. Doc is shorter than Trevor by two inches with shoulder length dark hair and grey eyes. He arrived on the doorstep of St Mary’s orphanage as an infant one hour before McBain. Pierces
original nickname was Scout but it evolved over the years into Doc.
Feeling claustrophobic in the back seat and getting carried away by his turbulent spasmodic monologue, Pierce Daniels shouts; “Mosey stop at Dave’s
Pharmacy there open all night!”
Auri slips her foot softly over Moses’s tapping the gas pedal and turns the
stereo up to distract Doc. The Radio Drones on the FM band are a favorite of everyone but Moses.
“Hearing restless pounding drums we swallow down our pride
We'll go off to their silly war if only for the ride.
Selling axes and old blades and wishing all the while.
Their mothers were just simple girls; who finally walked the aisle.
All soldiers are the same when they come hither bearing gifts.
There’s always something on their minds; best be savvy, best be swift.”
At eighty-five miles per hour on Route-24 they pass the base, industrial park
and farm in short order only slowing to enter Cranberry Drive a feeder lane that leads to The Octagon, an old revolutionary war blockhouse Fairfield University sprung up
around. Circling halfway around the hub and heading down Hawthorn Avenue, the ever ready offensive lineman Moses pulls the silver behemoth into the empty parking lot of The Library. Checking the temperature gauge he notices it is barely warmed up. His
older brother Maurice flicks a flashlight from the back steps.
Aurian has a canvas rucksack over her shoulder following Moses and Lisa. The less dedicated members of the expedition wander in behind them. Miss Gretchen Faversham the headmistress of Wickenshire Prep is inside holding a brass key ring. She allows
herself to greet the young ladies warmly no longer having to keep a cordial distance from the graduates. Lisa hands the scribbled map instructions to the dainty grey haired schoolmarm. Her brows furrow and the edges of her mouth droop downward as she
raises her trifocals from a thick neck chain.
“My favorite eccentric, Augustus Ferguson, making merry and playing the clown again I see.”
She points to the north and south corridors; “Those are the old wings, this central chamber was rebuilt in 1859 after a mysterious fire. If Gus wasn’t the only game in town for exotic flowers I would be home in bed, not attending another mock
investigation, incited by a dodgy old rascal renowned for enticing naïve college students, into futile pilgrimages to recapture lost relics.”
Tossing the keys to Maurice, “Lock up and arm the alarm system I am off to a warm bed.”
All voices of reason departed Auri uses her hands to shape two flowing lines downward calling out emphatically “WEIGHTY MATTER EXCHANGE BY SEAMAN GUARDED BY OWLS”
A fan of Jumbles and Anagrams Pierce replies condescendingly, “Balustrades.”
“You are like, way no fun tonight Pierce! Is that an egg on your head or a new hat?”
Trevor knowing where the two owl statues are climbs the wide marble staircase, the rest of the troupe closing ranks behind him. He marshals them into the spacious rotunda and enters the
War Archive. Tatianni enthused again draws a square shape with her left hand while reading.
“9999 SHIPS WERE LAUNCHED TWO WERE LOST AT SEA.”
Pierce walks over to the Greek statuary below the tall windows embedded in the eastern wall staring quizzically at the Cyclops. “How many ships were lost at sea?” Pierce asks pensively.
“Two.” Aurian replies with excited hopes.
“Next bit?”
“23 SKIDOOS THE JOKE LAUGHS A PIG IN A POKE”
Pierce sticks his left index finger in the Cyclops’s missing eye. “We’re off track already.”
Heading back to the owl statues Doc shrugs at Trevor. Lisa nudges McBain and he
approaches the Cyclops. His left finger in the missing eye, he feels the button
occluded by grime and dust in a small declivity on the top, where it would go unnoticed. He
counts out loud slowly pressing the button twenty-three times. Aurian, Lisa, Moses, and Maurice are intently watching both Mac and the twenty foot statuary.
Nothing happens. “I think I found it!” Doc yells from the rotunda.
“The Sun got very angry I tell you forthrightly. They doth played with the ancient celestial orb like vicious children hurling pinwheels at a detested sibling. A thousand fell firstly and then ten thousand for coming nigh to thee.
Behold and see the
reward of the wicked. See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand…” Moses and Maurice place themselves behind Aurian to protect her
from the marble floor and Michelle takes Auri’s left hand in her right.
McBain inserts his finger into the Cyclops’s bad eye and starts frantically
counting out twenty-three clicks on the hidden button. Lisa is weeping silently. “For I lift up my hand to heaven, and say, I live forever. If I whet my glittering sword,
and mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance unto mine enemies,
and this will reward them that hate me. I will make mine arrows drunk with blood, and my sword shall devour flesh; and that is only the beginning of the revenge upon mine
enemies.” Aurian freezes swaying imperceptibly and falls backwards. Maurice catches her in the cradle of his arms and starts trotting towards the exit.
Lisa is breathing deeply trying to compose herself. McBain is dumbfounded enough to wonder momentarily if he is dreaming. Moses is whistling softly the way children do when passing a graveyard. Daniels enters the room with Tatianni’s rucksack
partially filled oblivious to everything. “It was like magic! Two hidden drawers in the marble bases of the owl statues opened up, let me remove two wooden boxes, closing themselves like I was the chosen one.”

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