All characters are 18 years of age or older. The first school year is over and summer vacation awaits. It is time to explore the legend behind a mysterious steam engine. He is off on his own adventure following in the footsteps of Missouri Smith. Please vote, comment, and if the spirit moves you offer up some suggestions. This is the first portion of this particular story. It was originally over 80 pages single space in Word. I chopped it in half. Next week I will post the second portion even as i work on the next installment. I hope you enjoy.
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I poured over every scrap of paper in the Hidden Room. I read Missouri Smith's diaries, field notes, and I had been struggling over deciphering three coded note books. There had to be a key somewhere. Where would he hide it? I sat in the hidden room with his last diary. I had read it a dozen times now. I knew every word by heart. This time however I enjoyed the beauty of his handwriting. It showed a strong confident hand and I stared at the page and for the first time I realized something vital I had missed up until now.
"I'll be damned. He's a lefty."
The slant was subtle compared to my own style which was far easier to detect. I examined how he formed his letters and guessed that he turned the diary to conceal his imperfection. At that time left handers were frowned upon and distrusted. The only thing that could have made him anymore outstanding is if he were a blue-eyed redhead. That would have been hitting the genetic lottery. I returned my attention to the diary. In the case of everything he wrote there was a notable patient beauty. I could see the delicate strokes of the fountain pen scratching the surface of the expensive paper. I knew his handwriting as well as my own. When I read his field notes it reminded me of the old-fashioned action thrillers like Flash Gordan and Buck Rogers. Two of the lines stuck in my head.
'A clever man makes the most of every inch of space. Her beauty is as eternal as her scarlet hair.'
The only redhead that I knew was Titania. Had Missouri encountered an equally enthralling woman in his life? I once thought he had rented this apartment so that he was close to the school, but I was having second thoughts. He owned a house in town. It was mere blocks distance from the academy. Why did he really move here and create a secret room and hide the stairwell to the roof? Could there be more hidden space on the third floor? I walked to the first floor and paced off the dimensions. I repeated it twice more for the second and third floor. I walked outside and made a circuit around the building. The third floor was as large as the other two. I had considered every inch of it or had I.
"Stupid!" I said and raced inside and up to the third floor.
I opened the hidden door that led to the roof. I squatted down and examined the steps. There had to be space underneath. There wasn't much but it could hold some juicy secrets. I was envisioning more journals or maps or even field notes. I found a single hole drilled into one of the steps. It was just big enough to slip an index finger in and pull which is what I did. The step was hinged and hidden below were several covered paintings. I pulled them out one at a time. I propped them up against the bookshelves and felt my pulse quicken in excitement. I went down the line and carefully pulled the sheets covering the artwork off one after the other. I dropped the dust covered cloths into a hamper. I stood back and looked at the subject of the various artists. They were all portraits and all of them were of the same woman. The second shock was who the artists were. I recognized some of them instantly.
"Impossible!" I whispered as I felt my knees nearly buckle from the implications.
I began googling art preservation and after that storage facilities that had climate control. I found one in town and checked my watch. I would have to call them first thing in the morning. I placed the portraits in the hidden room and closed it up. I went over to the steps where I had retrieved the paintings. I was about to close it up when I spotted something in the corner. I leaned forward and felt around. The dark cloth obfuscated the small object hidden beneath it. I grabbed the material and whatever it was hiding. I stood and turned my hand over. The cloth fell away revealing a hand carved cryptex. The wooden and brass cylinder had seven wheels along the exterior. The wheels each had twenty letters in different sequences and the possible number of combinations was staggering.
"It is drinking time." I muttered as I closed the hidden step and shut the hidden door to the roof.
I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured myself a few drinks. I took out a notepad and copied down each wheel and tried to assemble seven letter words. I feared that selecting a wrong word would be disastrous. I was half way through the bottle of whiskey when I took a break. I had to speak with Titania and tell her what I found. I stood and felt a rush of giddiness as all that alcohol ran from my feet to my head. I grabbed the cryptex and carried it and the whiskey with me. I staggered across the rear of the campus until I reached the redhead's apartment. Like me she lived on the school grounds but on the opposite side. I knocked on her door and saw the light come on. She opened the door and smiled.
"John?" She laughed. "Drinking on a school night, you are better than that." Titania continued. "Oh my god, you found it. You found his code thingy."
"Cryptex. It is called a cryptex. But I don't know the seven-letter word to safely open it." I said, and she grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You knew him." I said, and she nodded. "Those paintings are of you."
"I'll be damned. You found them." She purred. "After all these years, you found my property."
"I'm taking them to a climate-controlled storage area." I declared. "It is a miracle they are still in good condition. Some of them are really fucking old."
"John... John..." Titania said trying to get my attention.
"Picasso. Matisse. Van Gogh. Da Vinci! Fucking Leonardo Da Vinci!"
"Calm yourself John," she said her voice a blend of amusement and frustration.
"I just wish I could figure this out." I said holding up the cryptex. She snatched it out of my hand and began moving the wheels. "Hey! Hold on Red..." I called out until she entered the seventh letter and the side of the device popped open. She handed it back to me and I looked at the word she had selected. "I'm an idiot. Thanks. I'll drop off your key to the storage place tomorrow."
"You're a sweetie. I'll cover your classes tomorrow. Tell me what you find out." Titania said and kissed my cheek. "Nite John."
"Good Night."
I chuckled as I looked at the cryptex again. The word was so obvious once she showed it to me. It was something near and dear to his heart, her name. Titania.
Mordenkainen's Sanction:
Sparks were flying everywhere. The machines whined and screamed in protestation as massive currents of electricity arced through the air and I ducked and weaved through the laboratory as maniacal laugher rose above the cacophony of the storm and equipment driven by its blinding power. I half expected to hear the voice scream, It's Alive, but it didn't. I tracked the figure in the white lab coat to another chamber. This one was sleek, new, and cutting edge.
"Good. You're here." The man said as he turned around. "I have a few things for you."
"Me. Why are you helping me?"
"I'm not. I am helping me. This is a test of whether I can implement genetic memory into a human. Repeat after me. Whiskey."
"Whiskey."
