Chapter the Twelfth

Maryanne was up with the sun the next morning, as she usually was. She rushed through her morning lesson, no doubt doing a less-than-exemplary job. She bid a hasty farewell to the tutor, and then took off out the front door. She carried on down the path towards the woods until the manor was out of sight, then circled around at came at the building from the back. The previous evening she had smuggled a length of rope into her chamber, and this morning she had secured one end to the heavy bedframe and dropped it out the window. After weeks of clambering about in the woods, she found it a relatively simple task to pull herself up the brick wall and in through the window, pulling the rope up behind her. She neatly coiled the rope and hid it, then rolled under the bed to hide.

She tried to wait patiently and silently, but her heart was pounding with excitement and she couldn't help but fidget, just a little. The tutor was gone already, and her mother would soon be leaving for her meeting in the village. She waited for what seemed like hours, but could only have been a few minutes.

The sound of the heavy front door slamming shut made her jump. She rolled out from under the bed and tiptoed out the door and down the stairs. She ducked low and ran across the front room, positioning herself under the window. A quick peek told her that her mother was a good way down the path, and walking steadily. If the woman came back while Maryanne was still in the study, the sound of the door would alert her. She'd have plenty of time to get out of the forbidden study and conceal herself in the linen closet. With this contingency plan laid out, she tiptoed back up the stairs. She couldn't help but glance furtively over her shoulder once or twice.

The door to the study was dark, heavy wood, just like all the other doors in the house. Maryanne knew that there was nothing different about this door, but she still hesitated before opening it, fingertips a hairsbreadth from the doorknob. This was the one room in the house that she was not allowed to enter, the one place in the manor that she had never seen.

Maryanne could feel her racing pulse speed up even more. She had to work to keep her breathing relaxed and even. There was no denying it; she was scared. Sure, the excitement of intentionally breaking an explicit rule was, in its own way, terrifying, but it was more than that. Ever since the day she had run off and met Silus in the woods, strange things had been happening. The two of them had uncovered a number of chilling oddities, the little metal disks being the latest, and most worrying. There was no telling what lay behind this door.

She considered turning back, going to the woods as she normally did. Avoiding the study and its contents in favour of spending the day with her friend. But it was no good. This entire mystery had gone on far too long, and now she wanted answers, even if she had to do unpleasant things to get said answers.

She took a deep breath and screwed her eyes shut, then slowly opened the door.

She let one eye open, just a bit. At first glance, the study looked mundane. It was a large, open room, with a tall cupboard in one corner and a heavy looking desk in the other, facing the door. It was sparse but neat, meticulously organized. There was one item, however, which seemed out of place. On the desk, alongside parchment and quills, sat a peculiar looking box. Maryanne crept forward hesitantly for a closer look. It appeared to be made of a black metal that she could not identify. It was about the width of her forearm, and half again that length, but quite flat, just large enough to fit a small stack of paper. She reasoned that it must be used to store extra writing materials. She touched it experimentally with one finger; it was definitely not wood, but neither did it have the smooth coolness of metal.

Walking around the desk, Maryanne perched herself on the edge of the chair and opened the box. Where there should have been a cavity, there were instead rows of small buttons, embossed with letters of the alphabet. The lid was hinged cleverly to bottom. What startled her most was the inside of the lid It was white, but had what looked like a letter written on it in an efficient utilitarian script. She scanned it briefly before deciding that it was worth copying down. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, she scribbled it out, making a number of ink blots in her haste.

Status Report

Dr. Kroegg

Project 5600-459

Sector 004

Research in sector 004 is progressing. The damaged transmitter was repaired, but it seems that the unit was not monitored quite closely enough. Several more malfunctions occurred before the transmitter went offline completely. Only minutes before, another transmitter, which had been in perfect working order, also stopped transmitting. The incident was investigated, and it was discovered that two units had removed their transmitters. Both energy transformers are still functional, and new transmitters will be installed at the earliest convenience. I have scheduled a conference with Doctor Ril to discuss the best way to proceed. If more problems occur, I will have the troublesome units terminated.

Personnel continue to perform admirably, and are eager to see this project come to a successful conclusion. I have cancelled the request for a transmissions expert, as Doctor Ril has found a solution to that particular problem. This afternoon will mark the commencement of industrial energy conversion, and in a matter of days this plant will be functioning at peak efficiency.

-Dr. Kroegg

The letter, or "report", was confusing, but Maryanne wasn't by any means stupid. She snatched up her written copy, closed the lid of the box, and left the study, closing the door behind her. Silus had to see this as soon as possible. He had agreed to wait at the hideout in case she found anything interesting. She threw caution to the winds and ran.

As promised, Silus was waiting. She wordlessly handed him the report, stopping to catch her breath while he read. Maryanne entered the study with the hope of finding some answers, but this report only seemed to raise more questions. Units? Transmitters? Maybe Silus could shed some light on the situation. She was almost certain that the two "troublesome units" were herself and Silus, and that only spelled trouble.

Silus finished reading and handed the report back to her, "This is bad."