2.Ø4
Argust 15, 2124, 6:47pm
Concealed in an evergreen thicket, Gellie waited for Muddle to emerge. From her current position, Gellie could monitor the lights in Muddle’s office while also keeping an eye on his preferred exit. The exit opened onto SBC’s central quad. The quad’s extraordinary vista daily inspired students to sunbathe, play volleyball, throw frisbees—anything but study. So much for academics at Santa Barbara College.
Gellie could only guess what Muddle was up to. More than once she had been tempted to scale the wall outside his office—a tricky maneuver due to the building's smooth adobe surface. In the past, Gellie had routinely spied on Muddle that way. But, wacky as this day had been, Gellie feared that Muddle would choose this of all days to notice a pair of prying eyes outside his window. Curious as she was, Gellie decided that patience would net the greatest gains.
As the sun sank, a dreamy glow spread over the campus. A cool breeze, pungent with coastal eucalyptus, wafted from the beach. Gellie snuggled inside her overcoat to stave off the chill. The zephyr also bore the rumble of high-tide breakers pounding the beach. Following a long afternoon of ceaseless observation, Gellie was on the verge of drifting off when Muddle finally burst out of his building.
Instantly on full alert, Gellie produced a pair of opera glasses. Remaining tucked in the bushes, she muttered, “Sooo, Max…why the sudden hurry?” Following a peek over her shoulder, she added, “You didn't even switch off the lights in your office. Hmmm. That isn’t the Max Muddle I know.”
In the distance, Muddle veered off the sidewalk onto a path that angled directly to the library. Peering through her field glasses, Gellie remained hidden until Muddle had nearly crossed the quad. When she judged that Muddle had accumulated a sufficient head start, Gellie tucked her binoculars away and stepped out of the bushes. Wary of remaining unnoticed, she set off in hot pursuit of her quarry.
Gellie noted that Muddle was traveling light: at present he only toted a slim briefcase. Also, cool as the day had become, Muddle’s sleeves were still cuffed to his elbows. Gellie reflected. Feeling the heat, Max? I wonder who else is on your tail?
As she hastened across the quad, Gellie was surprised to see Muddle mount the steps into the library. She muttered under her breath, “What’s this, Max? A detour?"
Sprinting to close distance, Gellie’s dark clothing and exceptional speed rendered her as invisible as a raptor flitting beneath the moon. When she arrived at the library, Gellie skipped up the steps two at a time.
Like many of SBC's buildings, a wealthy alumnus had financed the library’s construction. In gratitude, SBC had christened the building with its benefactor’s melodious name. In addition to gratifying egos, personalizing buildings also enhanced patron generosity. What well-heeled narcissist could tolerate having their name emblazoned on an eyesore? Consequently, SBC was swarming with architectural gems, and none was more stylish than the twelve floor, art moderne Helga Humbugger Library. Affectionately nicknamed, The Jukebox.
Peering through the library’s first floor windows, Gellie detected no sign of Muddle. As she pushed through the revolving door, Gellie concocted a convenient cover story in case she bumped into the professor, “…oh, hey Max! Yeah, I’m just checking out some books. Sure, they’ve got the same volumes at UCLA, but Humbugger is usually less busy. Especially on weeknights…Yadda, yadda, yadda…”
A quick scan of the lobby revealed no sign of Muddle. Gellie hastened to the circulation desk where the librarian, Lester Fine, remarked that he might have spotted Muddle only blippets earlier.
“Hmm, I can’t be certain, Ms. de Claire, but I think someone dashed into the elevator a few blippets ago." He jerked his head toward the bank of stainless doors. "It might have been Dr. Muddle, but I can’t say for sure.”
“Thanks, Lester.” Gellie examined the elevators. One was on the ground floor, whereas the other had just begun a descent from the tenth floor.
Muddle’s carrel was on the tenth floor!
Lester noticed that Gellie seemed anxious, “Is everything alright, Ms. de Claire?”
Gellie responded breezily, “Sure, Lester, everything’s fine. Some students and I are throwing Dr. Muddle a surprise party. If you see Max, please don’t tell him I’m looking for him, okay?”
Hearing this, Lester’s eyes widened, "Oh, now I get it.”
Something in his tone stopped Gellie in her tracks, “Uhh…excuse me, Lester. Did you say you noticed something?”
Lester cupped a hand to his mouth, “Now that you mention it, Ms. de Claire, there was a man looking for Dr. Muddle earlier.” Lester shivered, “He looked pretty sketchy. But, now that you mention the surprise party, I guess it makes sense…”
Still troubled by the memory, Lester added, “That guy sure didn’t look like a student though. If anything, he looked more like an old western outlaw, but, um… never mind…” Lester absently thumbed a stack of scratch paper, “Soooo...about that surprise party…it wouldn’t happen to be a costume party, would it?”
Gellie’s forehead furrowed, “What? Costume party? I…I don’t know, Lester…” Sensing disappointment, Gellie adjusted, “Hey, you know what? Now that I think about it …Sure, it’s a costume party.” She examined the elevators again, “Uhh, Lester, did that outlaw arrive just before I got here?”
“No,” Lester shook his head, “He’s been here a while.”
The descending elevator arrived with a subdued ding. Its doors breezed open and out shuffled an ancient librarian pushing a massive book wagon. The cart appeared to outweigh the librarian by ten-to-one. Seeing his colleague, Lester shouted, “Hey, Myrtle! Guess what? They’re throwing a surprise party for Dr. Muddle tonight!”
Myrtle received the news without so much as a raised eyebrow. Instead, she plucked a hanky from her right sleeve and honked an extraordinary cloud of book dust from her nose.
Undeterred, Lester hastened around the circulation counter, “That’s not the even best part, Myrt!” He shook both fists exultantly, “It’s going to be a costume party!”
Still evincing no sign of interest, Myrtle lifted the reading glasses from her nose and began polishing them on her blouse. Sidling up to his colleague, Lester proposed, “Myrt! This is our big chance! Remember our lion tamer costumes? We can finally break them out tonight!” Initially, Myrtle remained unmoved, but then, ever so slowly, one corner of her mouth twitched upward.
Gellie turned away from the screwy librarians and raced to the library’s central staircase. The Jukebox’s infinite stairway was a quirky work of art. It corkscrewed all the way from the lobby to the library’s rooftop observation deck. On each floor, the staircase afforded tantalizing glimpses of the library’s award-winning collections. On this night, Gellie had no time for Humbugger’s collections. She raced up the stairs with a singular purpose: she had to warn Max of the danger stalking him.
The stairway’s stone slabs were not only beautiful, they were also designed to muffle even the heaviest footfalls. Consequently, a gazelle like Gellie could fly up the stairs more silently than the air that sighed through the Jukebox’s ventilators.
Arriving at the tenth floor, Gellie paused for a breather. Turning left she trotted between tall stacks. At each intersection, Gellie stopped and scrutinized her surroundings minutely. Along the way, she sensed nothing untoward save for the undulating flicker of a dying fluorescent tube. As she passed the moribund lightbulb Gellie peeked into a dim clearing beyond the bookshelves.
Gellie spied Muddle’s carrel dead ahead. The carrel was a private reading room that was large enough to contain a desk, reading chair and a few stacks of books. Gellie was surprised to find the carrel’s door ajar. A light was burning inside and it sounded like someone was rummaging through the carrel’s contents. Remaining safely tucked in the stacks, Gellie called out, “Hey, Max? You in there?”
There was no reply, but the sound of plunder ceased. A few moments ticked by and then a figure emerged from the carrel. It wasn’t Muddle. Gellie silently complimented Lester on his observational skills. The intruder definitely looked like an outlaw. Gellie noted the weapons dangling from his belt. A six-shooter hung from his right hip and on his left...Hmmmm. Gellie couldn’t be sure, but it looked sort of like a bullwhip.
The outlaw’s clothing was grubby. He wore a leather coat and, atop his unwashed head, a soiled fedora. As he exited Muddle’s carrel, the outlaw paused for a moment to admire the object he had just pilfered. Gellie was certain that the outlaw had stolen the object because she had twice observed Muddle transferring the treasure from one secret hiding place to another.
The object was an old, oversized pocket watch. It was made of glass and a dull silvery metal. The watch was far too large to fit into anyone’s waist pocket, but with the exception of being ten times larger than average, the device appeared outwardly like any other pocket watch.
The outlaw grinned crookedly and stuffed the watch into an inner pocket. Then the rogue began scanning his surroundings for the source of the noise he had heard. The outlaw growled, “Who’s there? Step out where I can see you and you won’t be harmed.”
Agreeably, Gellie stepped out of the shadows. She appraised the outlaw and demanded, “Hand over that watch, pal!” Then she added playfully, “Do what I say and you won’t be harmed.”
The outlaw chuckled, “Very funny.” In bald defiance, he zipped his jacket to his chin. “I’d like to oblige, ma’am, but I’ve promised to deliver this watch to its new owner and...” He tipped his hat, “...I always deliver on my promises.”
“I’m sure you do, but...” Gellie stated flatly, “...Max is going to be disappointed when he learns that Indiana Bones has stolen a precious artifact from him.”
Bones stopped dead in his tracks. Without facing Gellie, he asked, “Uhh...what makes you think I’m Indiana Bones?”
“Ohhh…” Gellie mused, “... maybe because you’re world famous for stealing treasures like the one stuffed in your jacket.”
Indy’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, ya’ got me. I heard a rumor that Muddle had come into possession of a very precious artifact.” Indy patted the bump in his jacket, “Knowing what I do about this baby, I decided it would be safer in my hands than Muddle’s.”
Gellie shook her head, “Since when have you become a bag boy for grave robbers, Indy?”
The barb stung. “Hold it right there, missy. If you’re half as smart as you seem, you must have noticed that Max Muddle is a blithering idiot.”
“Of course, he is,” Gellie bopped her forehead, “He’s a professor! It goes with the territory.”
Dang! Bones thought, Who was this woman? Her insults stung more than bullet wounds.
“Very funny,” Indy retorted, “My point is that scary people want to get their hands on this item. No disrespect intended, young lady, but I’m much better equipped to deal with those people than Muddle.”
“I agree…” Gellie fired back, “...except for the last part.” Indy looked baffled, so she clarified, “I agree that the watch is not safe in Max’s hands, or in yours, but…” Gelli extended an open palm, “...it will be in mine.”
“Hold it right there, sister,” Indy drew his pistol, “I don’t want to hurt you…”
“Then don’t!” Faster than the eye could see, Gellie flashed across the room and snatched the pistol out of Indy’s hand.
Wide-eyed, Bones stammered, “Hey! How did you do that?”
“Oh, that’s nothing.” Gellie laughed, “Watch this!” Holding the pistol in both hands, Gellie bent the steel gun barrel into a backward-curving U. “How’s that for tricks?” She handed the mangled weapon back to its owner.
Numbly, Bones accepted the gun. He gazed at it in disbelief and then let it fall to the floor. For the first time, Gellie heard a note of fear in Indy’s voice, he quavered, “Who are you?”
“Who am I?” Gelly responded gaily, “Oh, I guess you could call me a guardian.”
It took a long moment for Bones to register Gellie’s answer. Finally, he stammered, “You’re ...a what…?”
Gellie answered as if Indy was hard of hearing, “I s-a-i-d, I am a g-u-a-r-d-i-a-n.” She could sense that Indy was in a fog, so Gellie kept her explanation simple, “It’s my responsibility to keep Max safe. Y’ see?”
“Oh…” Indy moaned, “You mean you're Muddle’s muscle?”
“Max’s muscle?” Gellie giggled, “Oh, that’s funny! Wait until I tell Ubie!” She flexed her arms, “I AM MAX’S MUSCLE!! Ha-ha! I’ll be baaaack!”
Even though Gellie was kidding, Indy was too shaken to discern subtleties. He raised his hands, “Well, I guess this is it, sister. Ya’ nabbed me fair and square.” Bones took in his surroundings with a heavy heart, “Who would have thought it would all end here? Indiana Bones’ last stand…” As a final gesture, Bones dragged off his hat and squashed it over his heart, “...all I ask is that you do me in quickly. Okay? I don't want to suffer for long.”
“Do you in?!” Gellie parroted, “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a guardian, not an assassin, Indy.” Gellie gave the grave robber's shoulder a friendly pat, “Trust me, amigo, you’ll outlive us all.” Keeping her hand on Indy’s shoulder, Gellie adjusted her fingers and then said, “There is one more thing I'd like to show you, Indy. It’s a sure-fire cure for insomnia that I learned from an old Vulcan friend…”
Gellie tucked the watch in a side pocket as she flew down the stairs. When she exploded into the lobby Gellie was astounded to find Lester and Myrtle prancing around in sparkly costumes. Myrtle cracked a bullwhip, while Lester shouted, “What do you think, Gellie? We’re lion-tamers!”
Gellie stumbled to a halt. The librarians looked like they were primed for a Las Vegas stage show. Lester said, “You’re headed to the party, I assume? We’re just closing. Where should we meet?”
A torrent of thoughts flooded through Gellie’s mind, “Oh…the party! That’s right. It’s, umm…” She snapped her fingers a couple of times until a thought sparked, "The, uhh...party's at the campus police station. But, you better hurry, or you’ll miss it!”
Lester turned to Myrtle and squealed, “Did you hear that, Myrt? Grab your keys and let’s go!”
Myrtle gave her whip another vicious crack.
Confident that Lester and Myrtle would soon be out of harm’s way, Gellie sprinted for the exit. Lowering her shoulder, Gellie bashed through the library’s revolving door and then leapt down the staircase in one great bound.
Max Muddle's Guardian hit the ground so hard that her inertia flung her into a somersault. Thinking nothing of this, Gellie completed the forward roll, sprang to her feet and took off running. Pressing a finger to her ear, Gellie activated a tiny communicator. “You there? Good. Guess what? I just ran into some company.” She dodged around a bush and spoke again, “Nah, I’m fine, but I think we need to accelerate the timetable!”
Snatching a look over her shoulder, Gellie slowed to evaluate her surroundings. “No!” Gellie shouted into the device, “I know what we said, but this changes everything.” She nodded and then said, “Alright! I’ll see you in two blippets!”
Still running, Gellie muted the communicator and then hurdled a wooden fence. Once over the fence, Gellie skidded to a halt and found herself on a gravel track. She scanned the path in both directions. Spotting no one, she paused long enough to smile. With her hands free and a smooth, flat surface beneath her feet, she could finally turn on some real speed. Gellie lowered her head and blasted off for the beach like she had been fired from a cannon.
Meanwhile...
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Blowhard was admiring the high-volume toilet that Snowjob had installed, “Nice work, Edfart.”
Somewhere Snowjob had located a huge stone throne. It was high-backed and ornamented with frightening skulls. The coolest part were the blue-flame thrusters mounted underneath each leg.
“I’ve never see one one like this!” Raved Blowhard, “What kind of fuel does it burn?”
“Uhh…” Snowjob wrinkled his nose, “...I guess biofuel is probably the best way to describe it.”
“You don’t say?” Blowhard whacked Snowjob chummily on the back, “Just wait till the next tree-hugger accuses me of being anti-green energy! Heh-heh...”
Abruptly, Blowhard shooed Snowjob out of the washroom, “Run along and get my iPhony, Edfart. There are urgent matters of state to which I must attend…” He patted the throne, “...while I'm ensconced…”
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