Lawrence nods in agreement. He looks to Mr. Blakesmith. "You said you're used to having money and all that. Perhaps we might 'accidentally' mention your name, or better yet the name of some other monied family you know of? Or at least imply we represent some such family. It could help improve the legitimacy of our cover story."
Ronnie shrugs. "Fair enough. I can drop the Blakesmith name if we have to do. I'm not above playing the spoiled rich heir."
Dr. Mayfield walks into the room as Mr. Pritchard opens the door, and promptly drops his bowler hat as he crosses the threshold. He clumsily attempts to shake Mr. Pritchard's hand.
Mayfield picks up his hat and blushes.
"Forgive me, gentlemen," he says. "I was caught unawares by this summons, but rushed over here as fast as I could."
He carries two crumbling books under his arms, which he drops on the conference room table without regard to decorum.
He wipes his brow with a handkerchief, and then smooths his clothes, which were out of style ten years ago.
Mayfield is a bulky man, with matted black hair and long mustache that twirls on the ends.
"At your pleasure, Dr. Armitage."
He bows melodramatically.
Being one of the preeminent scholars in ancient religions, Mayfield has been hired to study this so-called “Jaffa Manuscript”.
For four years translation has gone nowhere. It had no relation to any ancient languages. But then Mayfield caught a bizarre break in 1929: One of the members of the Byrd Expedition to Antarctica delivered to Mayfield a rock table not unlike the famous Rosetta Stone. It had been trapped in a strangely angled lock-box found under the Ross Ice Shelf.
The inscriptions on the “Ross Stone” enabled Mayfield to start translating parts of the "Jaffa Manuscript" from its obscure language. Excited at first, Edward discovered that his progress quickly slowed. First, there is the mystery of why this “Ross Stone” was in Antarctica at all and why it related to a manuscript from Jaffa. But worse than that, with every successful interpretation, Mayfield has increasingly nightmarish sleep, dreaming of impossible geometries, unknown colours and disarming slopping sounds.
Very cool.
Peaslee excuses himself, apparently intending to beginning writing the letter of introduction. Before he leaves he does tell you that the director of the Morning Rise Sanatorium is one Dr. Samuel Havingshill.
Dyer, apparently not entirely convinced that the apocalypse is nigh, asks Knutson what he thinks of the university's prospects upon the football field this season.
.
Before he leaves Peaslee halts at the door.
Peaslee : "Am I to assume that all four of you are going out to the Sanatorium then? "
.
.
So the meeting breaks up, with it agreed that you'll visit the sanatorium Monday morning under the guise of potential donors.
AS you're walking across the quad, discussing the many mysteries of the documents you were shown, you notice, somewhat incongruously among the students and academics that make up most of the foot-traffic, two men in the full accoutrements of bee-keepers, crossing the campus.
The two apiarists seem to quicken their pace, as they stride towards the library.
A few of the students scattered around the quad, watch their progress with bemused expressions.
Dr. Mayfield points.
Bee keepers, gents. Do bee keepers also keep wasps?
Lawrence ponders the question. "Possibly," he responds. "I'm not sure I've ever heard of a wasp keeper. But why do you suppose they're going into the library?"
"Well," Edward says, "Then perhaps we should ask them. The manuscript did say wasps, did it not? Or was it hornets? In either case it's a strange coincidence. Damn peculiar, if you'll excuse my French."
Edward taps the top of his head and sighs as he realizes he's forgotten his hat once again. His forehead is already beady with sweat, and New England's infamous mosquitoes seem to find that to their liking.
As Dr. Mayfield's sentence tails off, Jimmy breaks into a quick jog towards the beekeepers, "Gentlemen! May I have a quick word?"
The two 'bee-keepers' are disappearing around the side of the library.
Lawrence watches Mr. Knutson dash off toward the beekeepers. He gives Dr. Mayfield a look, then shrugs and goes to follow, walking at a brisk pace, though not quite jogging.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Knutson pelts around the corner. The two bee-keepers briefly pause.
Beyond them he can see a ladder propped up against the side of the library. There's a couple of the grounds-keeping staff standing a little distance off.
So the rest of you see Jimmy Knutson disappear around the side of the building.
The two 'bee-keepers' look expectantly at Knutson.
Bee-keeper #1 : "Can we help you?"
Dr. Mayfield notices a wasp cutting through the humid air.
Bee-keeper #2: "Sorry son, we've got work to do, can't stand here jawing."
Edward gives the wasp a wide berth.
Gentlemen, if we may. We are on faculty here, and happen to be doing a project on Entomology. Excuse us rushing over so, but bee keepers caught our attention. If there is a infestation here on campus, we would be most intrigued to hear about what’s going on.
Edward smiles quietly to himself, rather proud of his white lie; prouder still of saying all of it without stuttering or mumbling.
Looking at the two beekeepers, Jimmy places his hands on his waist, while catching his breath. Pausing briefly for one final draw of air, he beings "Gentleman, as the sports doctor for the campus, may I inquire what is going on? I need to assess if there is a possibility for, um, bee stings to my athletes."
Bee-Keeper #1 : "well, we've got a wasp hive under one of the eaves of the library annex , me and Bill here are going to try to remove it."
As the wasp darts through the air, Dr. Mayfied doesn't see anything too particularly unusual about it, other than its growing proximity to himself.
Bee-keeper #2 : "Don't you worry none sir, we'll have this cleaned up in flash."
Knutson sees the grounds-keepers backing away from the library.
Lawrence resists the urge to swat at the wasp as it buzzes nearby. He hurries around the corner, trying to keep up with Knutson and the bee-keepers.
Jimmy thinks to himself... nothing to concern ourselves with yet they're backing away?
Jimmy doesn't see anything.
Lawrence I'll allow you a roll, but as you're 'rushing' up to the scene I'll impose the 'Disadvantaged condition' mechanism, you'll roll twice and take the worse of the two rolls.
Dr. Mayfield, you have a passing familiarity with the university's grounds-keepers, but you suspect that there are no bee-keepers on the rolls.
Lawrence Pritchard dashes around the corner of the building, and only barely manages to halt himself before he crashes into into where Jimmy is chatting with the bee-keepers.
Dr. Mayfield casually strolls up.
The other grounds-keepers seem to be trying to wave you off.
Bee-keeper #1 : "What's that now?"
As he looks behind him.
Edward puts his hands in his pockets, rifles with some loose change, and says: "I say, we are on faculty here, and happen to be doing a project on entomology. We might could make use of anything you've found out about these vermin."
Suddenly, you're all engulfed by a buzzing cloud of wasps.
The bee-keepers race over to where their gear is piled on the ground, and begin quickly gathering up hoses and tanks.
"Oh, my GODDDDDD!" Edward shrieks, and begins sprinting across the quad waving his hands frantically before finally dropping and rolling like a fool to get the wasps away from him.
"I HATE bugs!"
Jimmy swats around the air, trying his best to avoid being stung. "Gentlemen, now would be a good time for you to do your bee-keeping duties."
"Wha-- Ahhh!" Lawrence yells, swatting at the swarm surrounding him as he takes off, running away from the library as fast as he can.
The bee-keepers frantically scramble to contain the swarming wasps; one of the two uses a hive-smoker to try and keep the swarming wasps away, while the other scurries up the ladder to spray the wasp's hive with insecticide.
Finally it appears that the wasps are dead, or driven away.
Bee-keeper #1 : "Are you all right? Don't know what made swarm like that! For that matter it is pretty late in the season for them to be building a big hive like that! "
The bee-keepers gather up their gear, and leave, after carefully cutting down the hive and depositing it in a trash-can, which they seal and take with them.
"Ahem. Well, that was certainly unpleasant," Lawrence says, brushing himself off. He winces as he moves; those stings were going to hurt for a while. "So, gentlemen, shall we go over our plan for the sanatorium visit now? Or perhaps we could meet some other time to make sure we're prepared."
Edward joins the circle of his comrades and speaks in a low, hushed tone. "If we were -- purely hypothetically, of course -- in the mood for an adult beverage, I happen to have of a speakeasy down on 7th Avenue. How would be feel about such a place, were it to exist?"