* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * SEX, LIES, AND NECROMANCY by Daniel Parsons and Brandi Weed Half of being smart is knowing what you're dumb at. -- Solomon Short * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Mr. Samuels decided that they should meet in the downstairs cafeteria. The fact that he wanted to discuss the case in an area open to all employees did not seem to faze him in the least. So, after they had returned from their respective assignments, down to the cafeteria they all went. "All right, did you guys get anything?" Janie dropped her tray with a bang, clattering silverware and nearly spilling Ardrin's coke. After glaring at her with a growing irritation, Ardrin shook his head. "Nada. The guy we met an Lloyds was into something, but I don't think it had anything to do with what we're looking for. They didn't have anything we didn't already know about." "Yeah. He was up to something." "Probably skimming funds, or selling information to other companies. Nothing we should bother with." "Mr. Samuels, did Ardrin report this to you?" Samuels blinked slowly, and turned to look at Angel. "Ardrin, I hope you notified Mr. Samuels of his behaviour, if it indeed was suspicious. I'm quite sure that any extralegal activities the man was engaged in be investigated in due course, but only if they are duly reported." "Yeah, yeah, Angel, I reported it. Did you two get anything?" "Not really. Mrs. Finkelstein was a very interesting woman, but I don't believe she could be connected to the case." "No kidding. We barely made it out of there alive." "That is not completely true, Janie. We merely had to leave before I was either forced to buy a car or kick her." "Yes, Angel, Ardrin did inform me of Mr. Chambers' behaviour, and the relevant departments have been notified of it." There was a long pause, with all four agents staring at their superior and glancing at each other with a mixture of bemusement and bafflement. Angel finally broke the silence, quietly saying "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." After clearing her throat, Janie continued. "Yes, well, Mrs. Finkelstein didn't really have all that much to tell us. She thought it must have been the IRA, apparently because they're all a bunch of dirty little lower class hoodlums who want to make life difficult for people who drive big flashy American cars." Ardrin snorted. "And how the hell would a bunch of dirty little lower class people do this?" "Maybe they dumped a bunch of British cars on it and sank it." "Jake, that's the weirdest idea I've heard since I found out that the Americans once tried to kill Fidel Castro with poison cigars." With a smirk, Ardrin wrote three initials in the air, reciting "Central Idiocy Agency, your tax dollars at work." "Not my tax dollars." Janie chirped, "Or pounds!" "Better go back to the car idea." Ardrin's smirk broadened into a very crooked grin. "It's about all British cars are good for, anyway." "Ardrin?" Samuels asked. "Uh, yes sir?" "Did you say you believe the IRA may be a part of this?" "Uh... no, sir, I did not. In fact, I said that I consider the idea to be unlikely, sir. I also do not believe that the CIA or Fidel Castro are involved, in case you were wondering, sir." Samuels stared glassily at Ardrin. It was almost unnerving how little his facial expression deviated from calm, placid contentment. Angel also stared at Ardrin. For a moment, it occurred to her that she was sitting next to him, and might be able to drive a fork into the back of his hand without Mr. Samuels noticing. But the moment passed, and instead she simply said, "Ardrin, do you really think that was necessary?" "Well, if you --" Samuels smiled. "Ardrin, you have made an excellent point." "I have?" "Yes. I believe we have not been using our resources wisely; we have not been looking where we should. This afternoon, we shall look in the low places." Everyone merely blinked. "We have been looking in the high places, thinking this problem so baffling it required the exercise of great power and skill to come about. But remember this is not so." "Sir?" Samuels smiled a sweet, beatific smile, and continued. "One day, a man came to a great wall, so great he could not see the end of it. He threw a stone over the top." Everyone blinked again. Janie murmured, "And then the master beat the student over the head with a stick, and he was enlightened." Without even appearing to hear, Samuels smiled at his charges. "Ardrin, you and Janie are to go to Mikleway. Angel, you and Jake are to go to Land's End." "Uh... sure." Ardrin stopped blinking for a moment. "You mean you want Janie and me to look over where they found the Cadillac?" "I would presume so, and anything else in the area." Angel pushed her tray away. "And Jake and I should try to find out where that flare mentioned in the radio transcript went off, and who sent it?" Samuels nodded. And smiled. "Certainly, sir. Get on it straight away." "Ardrin, we better check the train timetables." "Nah. Let's just take my car. This way, maybe we can drive to the University of Glasgow, since we'll be in Scotland." "To visit the Professor Samuels who was gonna be in charge of the Cray? Good idea." "Jake, we shall travel by rail. I really don't think it necessary for us to go by car." "Sounds fine with me. Do we have an expense account?" "Certainly. Report such things to me." * * * Angel and Jake caught the 1:07 to St. Just, a very small town out on the tip of Land's End, which they figured must be close to where the flare had gone off. The train arrived a little after four in the afternoon, and the two agents stepped off onto the platform, looking around at the low hills covered with waving grass. There were only a few buildings in the town proper, with a few houses and barns visible in the fields beyond. "Gee. It didn't look this small on the map." Angel sniffed. "It's not London, Jake. Though it is quite lovely to smell the sea again." "The Thames is pretty whiffy. Where should we look?" "First, let's find out if they have a hotel. We may not be able to complete our investigation in what's left of the day." "We don't want to put too much on our expense account." "That's very commendable of you, Jake. We shall have to get a smaller room, and I'm sure you'll be more than willing to sleep on the floor." St. Just did indeed have a hotel, with exactly 4 rooms, and 4 vacancies. They rented two of them for the night. "Charming place. More of a boarding house, really. Not the sort of establishment you would find in a larger city." "Let's go look at the beach." Angel raised an eyebrow. "It isn't really a beach. More of a cliff. And we should be looking for where they launched the flare." "I don't think we're going to find it. I mean, it's not like it was some kind of rocket or something that left a big burning circle in the grass." "Probably not. So, we ask the locals if they saw anything like it last May 24." "Do you think anyone will remember? Or have been awake?" With a smile, Angel patted Jake's arm. "Jake, remember this is a small town. When new people come, people notice them. If strange things happen, like strangers setting off large flares, someone will notice and remember." Jake grinned. "So, all we have to do is find the nosiest person in town, and ask them." "Very good. Now, where will we find the nosiest, most prying gossips in any small town?" Jake thought a moment. "Sitting around in the pub?" "That's a very good place to start looking. Shall we?" The town didn't have a real pub, merely a small store selling goods which had a couple of kegs on tap. It was mostly empty save for the owner and a small old man in a black beret. "Good evening, sir. Would you mind if I sat down?" The little old man looked up at Angel, and smiled toothlessly. "Siddown, girlie. Get yerself a pint." Jake brought over a couple of pints. "We were wondering if we could ask you about some things." The old man stared at them suspiciously. "Are you from the government?" Angel almost started. Jake dropped the beer. "Heh eh eh. You've got a mess to clean up." The grinning shop owner handed Jake a mop. Silently, he cleaned up the spilled beer, listening to Angel and the old man converse. "Well, yes, we are from the government. MI5, to be precise. We were wondering if anyone had seen anything out on the peninsula on the night of the 24th." The old man chewed his lip thoughtfully. "That would be Sunday, wouldn't it?" "Yes, I believe so." "I do remember some strange goings on that night, as a matter of fact. What's it worth to you?" Angel blinked, and narrowed her eyes. "My dear sir, we are not offering recompense. If you are not willing to speak with us, we shall simply be on our way." The old man smiled. "Well, at least you're honest about it. Maybe you're not part of it after all." "'It', sir?" The shop owner glanced heavenward, and silently mouthed the word "crazy" behind the old man's back to Angel. "Come on back to my house. Meet the wife." "Ah... certainly, sir. Jake?" They walked out of town and down a dirt road towards a small red and white house. The old man was silent, and serious, glancing about the sky and fields as if he expected someone to suddenly appear and take him away. Once they reached the house, the old man knocked three times on the door, then once, and the door quietly opened by a small old woman in an old house dress. The inside of the house was dusty and ill-kept, with great stacks of magazines and newspapers stacked throughout. One wall seemed covered with clippings; Jake went over to look at this, while Angel tried to engage the old man and his wife in conversation. Before she could say anything, the old man spoke in an urgent, serious tone. "Now, you may not know it, but there are forces at work in the world much greater than any you know of. Powerful agencies work in mysterious ways." Angel slowly nodded. Meanwhile, Jake was reading titles. "Crop Circles Baffle Top Scientists", "UFO aliens sold as pets", "Aliens take Clinton for ride in UFO", "Heroic Publisher says, 'The MIB's are out to get me!'", and "Space woman having Elvis's child". "I did see them go out to the point. My wife saw them too, and no one will ever convince us otherwise. We know what's what." "Yes, sir, I'm sure you do. What did you see?" Jake read some more. "Mistaken for the common hamster?" "We saw them, in their big car. They weren't from around here. They went out to the point. And you know what they did there?" Angel got out her notepad and pretended to write. "No, tell me." "There was a ceremony, a foul and blasphemous calling up of the devil himself! Fire shot into the skies." "Fire into the skies. About what time, do you remember?" Meanwhile, Jake glanced up from the clippings. "Angel, this says that John Major is a robot from a flying saucer." "It's all true! Every word! And we know, because as the fires died away, they came down!" "They, sir?" The old man had to stop for breath. His wife continued. "It was huge, and covered with lights, and gravity beams and things, because it was the space aliens!" "The space aliens. I see." "Don't you laugh! Don't you mock! I see it in your eyes, young lady, and you can only pray you'll never know the truth of it! They come down all the time, and they do things to us. It's why my dear Bernard, who knows so much about them, must wear the foil in his hat. It's to keep them from using their mind control lasers." Jake stopped reading the wall of clippings, and stared at the two hyperventilating septuagenarians in fascination. Angel stopped even pretending to write, simply staring in utter disbelief. "Yes, yes! And the saucer came down, and the people floated up into it on their anti-gravity beam, and they all went away into the night. But you can still see the spot, from that window." Angel and Jake stared out of the window, looking out over a field that looked exactly like every other field they had been seeing for the last 100 kilometers. "What happened to their car?" "What?" Angel turned and looked the old man in the face. "You said they drive out, and the saucer picked them up. Where did the car go?" The old man looked confused for a moment, but only a moment. "Oh, a Man In Black came by later and drove it away." "That's all you saw of him, just a man in black clothing?" "No, no! It was a Man In Black!" "You mean like from that clipping over there?" "Yes! They are the space alien's servants! Maybe even the aliens themselves. No one knows. But you can recognize them. They are taller than a man can be, and of an alien aspect, and fearful. They are not of this earth." Quietly, Angel and Jake began to back up towards the door. "Yes, thank you very much for your time, and it was lovely chatting with you and seeing your clippings, and..." They then slammed the door behind them, and quickly walked back to town. "Well. Those two were entertaining." "Um... yeah." Jake scratched his head. "Do you really think space aliens disguised as hamsters are infiltrating the country?" Angel let out an sudden snort of derision. "Don't be ridiculous. What would they do, try to take over from inside their cages? I don't think this has been a very fruitful avenue of investigation, despite what Mr. Samuels said." "Nah, no fruits. Nuts and flakes, maybe." Angel almost didn't laugh. "Jake, that's not very nice. Let's ask some other people if they saw anything." They interviewed a few other people, but none of them could recall anything untoward. Eventually, as night fell, they called the home office to give them the number of their hotel, had dinner, Jake lost a little money at a three-card monte table someone had set up, and retired for the evening. * * * Meanwhile, Ardrin and Janie had driven up to Scotland in Ardrin's Range Rover. It was a long drive, and they only arrived at Mikleway just as the sun was setting. Mikleway was a very small town on the southern shore of the river Spie, consisting of a large dock and shipping yard, and very little else. There was a general store, and a small tavern, and a few houses spread along the town's only street. Ardrin pulled up at the tavern, and he and Janie stumbled out of the car to stretch their legs. "Oh, man... On one tank of gas, too!" "Better get some more 'gas' then. We must be about empty." "Yeah. Where's the gas station?" "Ardrin, we call it petrol over here." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's look for a 'petrol' station." Janie wandered out onto the dock, looking around, then pointed out into the water. "Hey Ardrin, come here and look at this." Ardrin walked over and looked. Out in the middle of the river, the setting sun was shining off a large, bright, metallic object deep in the murky water. "Huh. I dunno. Maybe a sunken ship." "It's awfully bright. This water is pretty putrid for it to be shining through like that. It looks like some big huge piece of chromed metal." "So... maybe somebody dropped a piece of cargo overboard, and never got it back." "That's peculiar. They could have dredged the river. It looks like it's probably brand new." By then, the sun had set, and the mysterious object faded from view. Ardrin located a petrol pump, and started filling his car up. Janie strolled into the tavern, which was still empty, and spoke to the bartender. "Good evening, mister. What's that thing in the river?" The bartender stared at Janie, sharply. Then his eyes drooped lazily and he started setting up beer mugs on the bar. "River, sir?" "Sir?" The bartender looked again, and blinked. "Oh, sorry, ma'am. There's nothing in the river, ma'am. Can't have anything fouling the shipping lanes, can we?" "Oh, no, I expect not. Well, toodles!" Janie walked out, and strolled up to Ardrin. "He says there's nothing in the river." After looking at Janie to see if she was serious, Ardrin slowly nodded. "You know, I think he's wrong. Maybe we should come back and look when there's more light." "Good idea." Janie thought for a moment. "Why don't we do it this way: let's go to Glasgow and spend the night there, and go visit Prof Samuels in the morning. Angel and Jake can ride the train up, and we can all go to look in the afternoon." "Sounds like a plan. Do we want to look at the ditch where the Caddy was found?" "We should. But in daylight." "Right. Let's go." The hour's drive to Glasgow was uneventful. They checked into a hotel, and the night passed peacefully for all. Daniel Parsons Brandi Weed Questions or comments to bweed@anubis.claremont.edu