Dear Reader:

Please know that the characters appearing in this tale do not belong to me; they are the property of the Empire of the Mouse Ears. This story is not intended to generate profit, it was written for the enjoyment of writing and, hopefully, your enjoyment in reading. Formalities aside, please enjoy...

James Bates sat, very uncomfortably, in a very comfortable chair. In his years of employment as Lord Montgomery Fiske's personal valet, he had dealt with nobility and government authorities on several occasions, but he had never been entirely comfortable doing so. He had learned that when a man who was both a nobleman and a magistrate asked to speak to someone such as him, a commoner of no notable education or standing, it couldn't be for a good reason. The man in question sat opposite a low table from him, in an equally comfortable chair, and regarded him over a cup of tea.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a cup?" The man, one Earl Snidely, asked him. For all of the man's proper manners and efforts to make the former servant feel comfortable, Bates couldn't help but imagine a trap of sorts awaiting him.

"No, but thank you, m'lord."

"You seem very tense," Snidely noted, first placing his cup onto a saucer and then the saucer onto the table. "I can assure you that you have no need to be." The middle-aged man allowed a slight smile to show on his face. "Of course, if I intended you any ill will, I would probably say much the same."

Bates saw no proper way to answer such a statement, so maintained his silence.

"Perhaps it is just as well," the nobleman sighed. "If I cannot assure you of my goodwill, I can at least keep this meeting as brief as possible. Let me open by stating that I hold a rather unique, unofficial and undocumented position in Her Majesty's Civil Service. Once we peel back all of the titles and replace the grandiose descriptions with solid, honest English, my job is to ensure that such of Her Majesty's nobles who maintain their ancestral properties...and routinely use their titles...maintain a certain appearance and code of conduct."

This news caused Bates to gulp.

"I see you understand the implications," Snidely noted, offering a tight, mirthless smile.

"I haven't been in Lord Fiske's employ, or on his lands, for almost two years," Bates gently protested.

"I am aware of this," Earl Snidely remarked. "And again, I assure you that you are not suspected of any wrongdoing. I merely want information. Depending upon such information, a proposition may be in order."

"M'lord, if you're seeking to implicate Lord Fiske..." Bates struggled to put his disquiet into words.

"I can assure you that it isn't my intention," Snidely interrupted him. The nobleman pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and slid it across the table to the former servant. "Please read the message," he requested.

Bates eyes flew wide when he recognized the royal seal on the envelope. With both suspicion and reverence, he broke the seal and pulled out the luxurious stationary within.

"Be it known to all whom read this," Bates intoned out loud. "That all records of any exchange of information between Mr. James Bates, formerly employed by Montgomery Fiske and Earl Snidely, of Her Majesty's Civil Service, shall be sealed for a period of seventy-five years from the date of..." Bates trailed off in amazement as he read the remainder. Dumbfounded, he looked again at the nobleman. "This bears today's date, and is signed..."

"By Her Majesty, herself," Snidely assured him. "Mr. Bates, may I ask you how old you are?"

"I am fifty-eight, m'lord."

"Do you have any children?" Snidely asked.

"No."

"Any prospect of acquiring such, either through adoption or a more direct method?" The nobleman allowed a touch of a smile to cross his face, again.

Bates could only shake his head.

"There you go," Earl Snidely assured him. "Even if anyone were to consider charging Lord Fiske, or yourself, with any wrongdoing, everything you say to me is strictly confidential. Only a member of the Royal Family, or someone authorized by a royal, will be able to access anything you tell me for seventy five years. I don't think I need to point out that you will be long gone by that point, as will Lord Fiske." The man's smile faded. "Assuming that Fiske is still with us."

"M'lord?" Bates asked.

"We will address this in due time," Snidely told him. "Now, are you satisfied that everything you say will be kept in the strictest confidence?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Very well," now, Snidely looked much more confident. "Will you have a cup of tea and answer my questions about Lord Fiske?"

"My pleasure, m'lord."

Smiling, the Earl filled a cup for his guest and refilled his own. Once again taking up the container, he indulged in a sip before speaking again.

"Mr. Bates, what is the last news you heard of Lord Fiske?"

"It was about a year ago," Bates answered. "I had left his employ better than a year before that, but I couldn't help but search out news of him."

"Proper loyalty," Snidely nodded. "Do go on."

"M'lord Fiske had been arrested in America...for impersonating..."

"A lemur," Snidely finished for him. "Admittedly, it sounds ridiculous, but it happened."

"After that, I didn't hear further news," Bates admitted.

"Mr. Bates, Lord Fiske has recently vanished," Earl Snidely informed him. "He has made no purchases, paid no bills, and has made no public appearances for the last two months. Two days ago, I personally visited his estate. There was no answer to my knock."

The man pulled a key from his jacket and held it for Bates to see.

"A little-known piece of information is that Her Majesty requires that all hereditary mansions, such as Lord Fiske's, be accessible to my office. When I entered the mansion, I found no sign that anyone had made use of the main floor facilities for at least several days. When I found Lord Fiske's bedchamber, it was tidy and in order, but dusty. It is my belief that Lord Fiske's mansion has been unoccupied for as long as he has been missing."

Bates had no idea how to respond to this news. There was sadness of course; he simply wasn't able to offer Fiske the loyalty that he had without developing an emotional attachment, as well. There was also a great deal of disquiet, as this nobleman in front of him clearly wanted him for some purpose, involving the missing Lord Fiske.

"Prior to Lord Fiske's...interesting...arrest, what news had you heard from him?" Snidely's eyes were piercing as he studied the servant.

"Nothing beyond what the tabloids reported," Bates answered, after setting his teacup down. "He had supposedly taken up with a group of monkeys and had started to travel around the world."

"I know," Snidely slowly nodded. "I've read the same reports. Is it a ridiculous idea that he would gather a group of monkeys to himself?"

"Not really," Bates told him. "He had a bit of an infatuation with the creatures, which had grown worse towards the end."

"The end," Snidely noted. "By that, do you mean the end of your employment with him?"

"Yes, m'lord," Bates suspected that he had just let something slip, and could only hope that it wouldn't get him into too much trouble.

"Mr. Bates, if Lord Fiske started to display...shall we say less than rational actions...I must know when and why."

Bates started to sweat.

"I can assure you that Fiske will be far from the first, or last, nobleman who has strayed into...shall we say...less than legal behavior," Snidely emphasized. "In fact, a distant uncle of mine in the past moved to Canada, took on the family name as his first name and gave the Royal Canadian Mounted Police no end of trouble."

Bates thought about it. He balanced his own loyalty towards his former employer, who he knew was a good man at one point. In a moment of selfishness, he also thought of his own role and how he could face punishment for what he had done...and had failed to do. He also debated with himself if his story could put him in an institution for the insane. Earl Snidely waited, patiently sipping his tea, clearly aware that Bates was debating against himself. Finally, the former servants' eyes fell back to the table and to the letter lying upon it. At the heart of the matter, James Bates was a loyal Englishman and if the Queen decided that what little knowledge he had was worth offering him some form of immunity, then the Queen's agent would get this knowledge.

"The entire story may take some time to tell," he told the agent.

"The teapot is full," Snidely informed him. "And I can always make some more."

"Very well, m'lord." Taking a deep breath, he started at the beginning. "From his earliest days, Lord Fiske was interested in the past. There are some stone-age ruins on the Fiske Estate, and even as a youth, he would spend time in them, imagining what it was like to live at that time."

"Did you personally observe this?"

"Yes, m'lord," Bates told the man. "At that time, my father was serving Lord Fiske's father. I had the duty of accompanying the young lord and make sure he kept out of trouble." James offered his questioner a guilty half-smile. "I'll confess that I obtained some books on archaeology for the boy. Upon studying these books, he became very thorough in his explorations. It's very easy to keep a boy out of trouble when he only wants to carefully sketch and catalog a series of ancient ruins."

"Considering the habits some nobles acquire, an obsession with archaeology is hardly dastardly," Snidely noted. "However, it didn't become an obsession until later, did it?"

"No, m'lord." Bates reminded himself that Earl Snidely clearly knew more about Fiske than he was letting on, probably to test his honesty. "Through his school years, it was more a hobby than anything else; he didn't neglect his studies or his duties, but he devoted the lion's share of his free time to it."

Snidely merely nodded.

"He took courses on the subject when he went to university," Bates continued. "And he went on expeditions between semesters. I accompanied him on many of these, as my father was still serving his and the elder Lord Fiske wanted his son to be accompanied by someone he trusted."

"The elder Fiske didn't trust his son?"

"He trusted the young man up to a certain point," Bates admitted. "Young Lord Fiske was a good man, and trustworthy, but he had a great passion for learning of the past. His father seemed a little concerned that his son would turn his back on his station and wander off to spend the rest of his life digging up old relics."

"Was it a valid concern?"

"I don't think so," Bates answered. "Or at least, not at that time. Monty...er...M'lord Fiske, understood his duties as a lord and landowner. He wasn't about to shirk such duties...or so I thought at the time."

"At the time?" Snidely's eyebrow rose. "So I now understand that something happened to change this."

"Aye," Bates nodded. "You must understand, M'lord, that both of Lord Fiske's parents were only children. He was born when they were in their late thirties and his mother's health was never very good. The lady passed on shortly after her son finished university and his father didn't last very much longer. Lord Fiske, just a few years out of university, was now, truly, Lord Fiske."

"And he neglected his duties as a landowner?" Snidely prompted.

"No, m'lord," Bates contradicted him. "At least not at that time. Rather, he looked at his estate as a way to fund his archaeology. He kept a close hand on his properties and investments and earned solid returns. But where another nobleman might invest these profits in his estate or a lavish lifestyle, he invested them in his passion for archaeology."

"Did he indulge in archaeology of the more...morally gray sort?" Snidely's eyes were hard on Bates.

"Not at all!" The former servant allowed a bit of fire into his voice at that accusation. "Everything was above the board! Lord Fiske contacted the proper authorities in every country we visited! While he used his status as a noble to gain meetings, he never threatened anyone he dealt with! He was up front and honest. He shared his findings with the locals and he turned over all artifacts to the proper authorities. Up until...things went wrong with him...it got to the point that nations welcomed him with open arms!"

"I am aware of this," Snidely again offered him a nod. "Her Majesty's government benefited a great deal from Lord Fiske's actions. Those contacts he made with smaller nations, which benefited from his hobby, made things much easier for Her Majesty's diplomats. In fact, the Queen herself offered him a post as an ambassador."

"And he turned down the Queen?"

Bates hadn't known about this!

"Not in so many words," Snidely smirked slightly. "He logically pointed out that he was able to enhance Her Majesty's diplomatic efforts even more by continuing the open and honest interactions with the very nations she was hoping he could charm as a diplomat. Her Majesty saw the logic behind his reasoning and concurred."

"He refused the Queen, and she was happy with it?" Bates mused.

"Indeed, but please continue."

"Yes, m'lord," Bates nodded. "Perhaps that explains why the BBC contacted him and wished to feature his explorations and adventures. After that, an American network purchased the rights to the shows and re-broadcast them in North America. Shortly after he made his first appearance on the telly, he had quite the number of offers to investigate still more sites, all over the world. It was during this time that...something changed."

Snidely merely raised an eyebrow again.

"You see, m'lord, Lord Fiske always thought that learning a bit of the local culture helped him understand the people and sites he was investigating. There were quite the number of trips to Asia, during which he studied various martial arts in order to gain greater understanding of the sites he was investigating, and to impress the locals. Lord Fiske was always a hard worker; clearing debris, moving dirt and exploring areas on foot. He was a strong, fit young man so the martial arts came naturally to him. As time went on, he began to get more interested in first the cultural, and then the mystical aspects."

At Bates' pause, Snidely motioned for him to continue.

"He started to believe things that I couldn't," Bates said, his voice a mere whisper. "Things that couldn't be."

"There's no need for embarrassment," Snidely assured him. "We live in an ancient land and while I will not break confidence and tell you of some of the things that I have observed in the course of my duties, I will say that I have seen things that simply defy science. There is something to mysticism and faith, so I will not judge you for what you have observed."

"Thank you, m'lord," Bates took a deep breath to brace himself. "In his studies and instructions, he learned of four jade statues that could charge a man with something called mystical monkey power."

Bates paused, waiting for his questioner to snicker or laugh. Instead, the man continued to regard him with a curious, yet expectant, expression.

"He investigated these artifacts," Bates stated, now more confident that he wouldn't be spending time in a padded room. "And determined where they were most likely to be found. When we went out in search of them, it was different."

"How so?"

"Before, when we wanted to find specific artifacts, Lord Fiske worked with the locals," Bates reminded him. "But now, he was secretive; he'd either tell the locals and the host governments that we were looking for something else, or would try to sneak in with nobody the wiser. He also became obsessed with monkeys, even going so far as to have some dumpy lass do surgery on him to give him a monkey's hands and feet!"

"How did the search for the statues turn out?"

"We recovered three of them with nobody guessing what we'd done," Bates confessed. "But he became impatient to recover the fourth. We tracked it to a partially collapsed temple and all of the openings were too small for His Lordship to fit inside. Before this, he would have set up a camp and carefully expanded an opening, using safety precautions and cataloging the process to get an idea of the techniques used to construct the place. This time, he contacted Kim Possible."

"The American celebrity?"

"That's her," Bates nodded. "She was just a wee thing back then, so Lord Fiske thought she'd be capable, and willing, to get through one of the openings, but bringing her in was a mistake."

"How so?"

"He couldn't just take the statue," Bates told him. "He had to feed her a bit of barmy that he was recovering it for a museum, otherwise she wouldn't fetch it for him. After she brought it out, he had to turn it over, because she had a lad that monitored such things. Later, he stole it from the museum."

"I'm unaware of him ever being charged with the theft."

"He wasn't," James told him. "He took the statue down to his dungeon level, with the other three. He put them in this room, so that there was one at each of the cardinal directions from the center of the room, and they all faced the center point. Then, he stood at the center point."

Bates struggled to continue, to tell the impossible sight that he had seen. Snidely patiently waited for him to come to grips with his memories.

"The statues all glowed," Bates recalled. "And beams of light came from their eyes and struck Lord Fiske. He began to glow and floated into the air. He roared in triumph, the light faded, then he floated back to the ground, looking stronger than he ever had before."

"And then?"

"And then there was a knock on the door," Bates told his host. "The young lad that had accompanied the Possible Lass had shown up to investigate the theft. I thought Possible was with him at the time, but it was an illusion that their egghead had thrown together. I..."

"If you did something that you later regretted, it is understandable due to your loyalty to your master," Snidely assured him. "Plus, I need not remind you that you will not be persecuted for anything you say to me."

"I didn't do anything when Lord Fiske said that he was going to kill the lad," Bates murmured. "The lad was only trying to find out what had happened to some artifact, my lord was going to kill the boy to keep his secret, and I did nothing."

"Considering that the boy is still alive, I conclude that Lord Fiske did not succeed."

"Aye." Bates still couldn't bring himself to look the man in the eye. "The lad managed to get to the dungeon room and the statues charged him up, and his wee rat pet, as well. I hate to admit it, but the rat managed to best me; but maybe that was for the best."

"May I assume that the rat saved the boy's life?"

"Aye," Bates affirmed. "The boy still wasn't a match for Lord Fiske, but he distracted the man while his little friend threatened the statues. When Lord Fiske tried to save the artifacts, the boy took him down. The police showed up a bit after that and hauled my master off, charging him with stealing the artifacts."

"And what did you do?"

"I came to my senses," Bates now met the piercing look. "I realized that I had been helping Lord Fiske steal ancient treasures and that I had been about to stand by while he murdered a lad who was little more than a child. I arranged for my lord to obtain proper legal council; then I packed my belongings and left."

"And since then, you've worked at a five star resort, where you've made a name for yourself for your efficiency, candor and manners," Snidely finished for the servant. "Have you made any effort to contact Fiske, or has he made any effort to contact you?"

"I've not tried to speak to his lordship," Bates answered. "Although I've looked for him on the news, now and again. If he's ever tried to find me, he hasn't tried very hard."

Earl Snidely continued to observe Bates, making the former servant very uncomfortable once again. Bates was no idiot, he could almost see the gears working behind the nobleman's eyes, as he debated his next action. Apparently, Bates' story must have met with Snidely's approval, for he finally set his cup down again.

"Mr. Bates, as part of my duties to Her Majesty, I also keep track of the various nobles' line of progression. It is my duty to...shall we say...manipulate them to make sure that complete scoundrels are not put into a position where they can cause the Queen a great deal of embarrassment." He offered a brief, thin smile. "It is a strange job, as I have to allow the occasional minor scoundrel into a position of minor authority and status, in order to keep my role secret."

"The fact that you're telling me this means that I'm not going to leave this room without some agreement with you," Bates noted.

"Nothing that dramatic," Snidely assured him. "Mr. Bates, should Lord Fiske be gone forever, do you know the identity of the next lord of the Fiske Estate?"

"No," Bates admitted. "I know that Lord Fiske's parents were both only children and I don't know about any second cousins or more distant kin."

"Most understandable," the Earl nodded. "The next in line to be the master, or rather the mistress, is a third cousin, once removed, of Montgomery Fiske. She is a young woman who has spent most of her adult life on public assistance. Her spending habits go well beyond impulsive. If she were to take up stewardship, I predict that the estates will be in bankruptcy and foreclosure within a year."

Again, Bates had no words of wisdom to offer.

"However, she has a son," Snidely continued. "This child is only now entering primary school. If I have proper reason, I will be able to manipulate events to see him placed in a fine boarding school in order to limit the poor influence that his mother is having upon him. However, I am most reluctant to break up a family, even a dysfunctional one, so I need a compelling reason to mold this child into the next Lord Fiske."

"Am I to understand that I'm supposed to ask what such a reason could be?"

"Indeed." Snidely smiled at the common man. "Mr. Bates, the Fiske Mansion has had no guests visit since before you left your position with old Monty. While Lord Fiske had occasional deliveries, you are the only person I can find with more than a distant knowledge of the estate, or the man who recently lived there."

Bates could only watch the nobleman, growing more nervous as he sensed that the reason for this interview was about to be revealed.

"I am requesting that you take up the position of caretaker of the Fiske Estate," Snidely informed him. "Rather, I should say that I request that you resume this position. In the course of your official duties, you will scour the grounds, and Fiske's records, for any clue as to his fate. You will report any findings to me."

"M'lord?" Bates asked, after another audible gulp. "What if he were to be located?"

"Then I will have to make a judgment," Snidely informed him. "I will determine if he is competent to remain in his position." Seeing Bates' crestfallen look, he quickly continued. "Do not worry, Mr. Bates. If I deem Montgomery Fiske to be incompetent, I will see that he receives proper care, be it medical or mental, so that he can once again resume his duties."

"M'lord?" Bates forced himself to ask the obvious question. "What if I find that M'lord Fiske is no longer with us; or that he's slipped too far away from sanity to be brought back?"

"Then, Mr. Bates, I will separate a dysfunctional mother from her child," Snidely's expression showed that he didn't even like to contemplate such an action. "And request you to remain the caretaker until such time as this child is prepared to assume Monty's old title."

"I...I want you to know, m'lord, that I'm willing to do so," Bates told him. "But someone like myself, making decisions that affect a nobleman's estate?"

"You proved most competent while doing so for Monty," Snidely noted. "As for the authority you would need to do so..."

He pulled another envelope from his jacket and slid it across the table. With slightly trembling fingers, Bates opened it.

"By the order of Her Majesty..." Bates read aloud, then his voice fell silent and he read the remainder of the document.

"This is a form letter," Bates declared, looking directly at Earl Snidely. "But the handwriting that filled in my name and the date is the same as the signature!"

"Indeed." The Earl's emotion showed a great deal of humor at Bates' amazement.

"This is Her Majesty's own writing!" Bates gasped. "The Queen herself wrote my name?"

"Perhaps you now understand the gravity of the situation," Snidely noted. "And your ability to deal with it."

"Of...of course I will accept!" Bates assured him. "But...my current employer...I don't want to just leave him without notice."

Smirking again, Snidely produced a third envelope and slid it across the table. With fingers that had grown numb, Bates opened this one.

"Be it known that the man who bears this letter, Mr. James Bates..." he read, noting yet another of the Queen's signature's on the bottom.

"There are six copies in the envelope," Snidely informed him. "One for your current employer, one for your landlord, and four for whomever else you need. I'm quite sure that such a proclamation, signed by the Queen herself, will ease any hard feelings that a rapid departure might cause in any of your current associates."

"Of...of course."

"Very well," Snidely's smile was very wide as he now slid a key across the table. "May I inform Her Majesty, truthfully, that you've accepted this responsibility?"

James Bates, newly reinstated caretaker of the Fiske Mansion, paid the two, burly deliverymen and added a bit of a gratuity. They had placed what possessions he had brought with him under the main entrance's meager shelter, then returned to their van. It took a few moments for Bates to realize why they didn't drive off to their next job, but then he realized that they were merely being considerate men. Pulling the key that Earl Snidely had provided him, he made his way around the side of the mansion, to the servants' entrance. Once the key unlocked the door, he waved to the men. Seeing that he could now get out of the drizzle, the men drove off. Bracing himself, Bates entered the eerily quiet building.

He walked through the chilly, yet familiar halls until he reached the grand entrance, chuckling to himself at how wrong it felt to carry his few boxes and bags through the portal that was reserved for the master and his guests. Once his possessions were completely and safely out of the light rain, he closed and locked the door, took up a suitcase, and made his way towards the servant's quarters. It took him several trips to shuttle what he had brought with him to the rooms that had once been, and were again, his.

He was hardly satisfied with the musty, stale smell of the suite, nor did the chill appeal to him. He opened the window a bit and turned up the thermostat. He frowned when he didn't hear the furnace ignite. Drawing upon his memory, went to the utility room and found that the breaker that powered this particular furnace had been tripped. Resetting it, he was gratified that it didn't trip again, and that the furnace blower soon turned on. While he was perfectly capable of wearing a jacket against the chill, the furnace also dried the air and he would have records to go over very soon.

Deciding that his time and energy for the day was limited to the point where reviewing records wouldn't be productive, he contented himself with reviewing the entire estate, with the exception of the dungeons, in order to determine what was in need of repair. By nightfall, he had compiled a list of issues and had cataloged them as to what he could address and which ones required proper tradesmen. Satisfied, he prepared a meal for himself in the servants' kitchen before seeking the bed that had been his for so very long.

Settled under the blankets that he had brought with him, he felt like he was home for the first time in more than two years. However, he swore he heard odd sounds, as if a stealthy intruder was sneaking about the mansion. Deciding that it was a case of nerves, he rolled over and forced himself to sleep.

He awoke the next morning to note that the air was still a bit too humid for his taste, so he concentrated upon domestic tasks. He spent the morning finalizing his list of items in need of repair and contacted the workmen who had seen to such work for years. To a man, they were happy and surprised to receive the calls. A couple of the workmen showed up yet that afternoon, mentioning that Lord Fiske had stopped hiring them shortly after Bates had left his service. Furthermore, they all pointed out that repairs involving their specialties had been done over the years, but by unskilled hands.

That evening, Bates went into Fiske's study and pulled out his former master's domestic records. Even though he was now the caretaker, and only man on the estate, he couldn't force himself to sit in Fiske's chair and work at his desk. Instead, he carried the ledgers to a side desk, where he used to perform such tasks years ago, and studied his master's financial records...back when the man wasn't his master. It didn't take him long to note oddities.

While Fiske had been a rough and tumble sort, willing to consume rough and meager fare while on an expedition, the nobleman liked to treat himself while at home. Certainly, the records showed that he continued to purchase fine wine, cuts of beef and other delicacies, he also purchased unreasonably large quantities of fruits and vegetables...almost as if the man had been hosting a convention of vegetarians. Bates noted the day's discoveries in his journal, wrote a report, and sent it off to Earl Snidely. Again that night, he had odd dreams of hearing someone creeping about the estate.

The remainder of the week passed in much the same way; bringing the estate up to a proper level of function and reviewing Lord Fiske's expenditures. As with his first day of work, Bates continued to make odd discoveries. Every tradesman that labored on the property; the carpenters, stonemasons, electricians, plumbers and others, reported that crude upkeep had been performed. Also, Bates found more odd expenditures; the purchase of child-sized clothing, veterinary expenses, custom-made martial arts weapons and more. Of course, he dutifully reported all of these findings to the earl. After a week, he could come up with no further excuses to delay what he knew was his next step. He took a deep breath one morning and descended into the dungeons.

The dungeons held the storage spaces for the most valuable and fragile artifacts that Fiske had collected over the years, as well as the records he kept of the methods and efforts he used to obtain them. While the chamber in which these items were stored was carefully climate controlled and provided with lavish backups, the nobleman had stressed repeatedly that damage could still occur if the mansion's atmosphere was overly humid. With the furnaces running properly for over a week, Bates was ready to open this secret chamber.

Upon accessing the dungeon level, he became nervous. The place was a great deal more clean than the rest of the mansion had been. After a few moments, he told himself that because the dungeons, even outside of the storage area, were more sheltered than the above ground portions of the mansion, they would collect less grime. Determined, he stalked into the climate controlled area and soon lost himself in his former master's journal.

First, he read about a Mystical Monkey Monk, and a prophesy calling Fiske to seek out the world's brightest monkey to lead him to the stars. He then read about the Lotus Blade, and Fiske's belief that it was stored in a secret school in Japan. The hours flew by as Bates learned of the man's actions after he had left his service. He had just concluded that the time frame was too far back to explain Fiske's current whereabouts when motion outside the storage area pulled his gaze from the journals. Bates found himself staring at three, unhappy monkeys.

This was too much! It wasn't enough that Lord Fiske had taken up with these creatures, they were now squatting on his property! Bates looked around for something to pummel the ankle-biters with, but could find nothing. Shrugging, he decided that fisticuffs would have to do, but he suddenly stopped. One of the monkeys had keyed the entry code into the door while another gestured towards a drawer that Bates had left open, clearly wanting him to seal the fragile artifacts inside before they opened the door.

Clearly, they understood how much Lord Fiske valued such treasures. They weren't squatters, they were servants! The stealthy movements he had convinced himself he hadn't heard at night suddenly made sense!

"So, Lord Fiske left his property to you lot when he left?" Bates asked, as they filed into the room. He now realized that they wore small, Kung-fu uniforms, which explained some of Fiske's clothing expenditures.

The monkeys simply looked at him until finally, one gestured to him to follow. Deciding that he was already daft for trying to talk to the creatures, Bates followed them out of the storage chamber and deeper into the dungeons. They entered a room that was well lit and properly heated. Twenty small beds lined the walls, each with an associated wall-locker.

"So this is where Lord Fiske put you all up?" Bates asked.

The lead monkey nodded, then pointed first to himself, then one of the beds, followed by his two companions, then two more. He then waved at the rest of the beds and then pointed towards the door they had just entered.

"So the rest of you went with His Lordship when he left?" Bates asked. The monkey nodded.

"So, where did he go?" Bates asked. "Do you have any way of letting me know?"

The monkeys led him back to the storage room. Once inside, the one Bates had decided was the lead monkey opened a hidden panel and produced what appeared to be a scrapbook. Bates set it on a desk and opened it, to discover that it contained photos of Fiske in different settings, often showing that he had run afoul of some misadventure. While he was looking, the lead monkey placed a journal next to the scrapbook.

"So the answer to where Lord Fiske went, as well as what happened to him, are in these books?" Bates asked. The monkey shrugged and nodded at the same time.

"You think they are, but you can't be sure?" Now, the monkey nodded without the shrug.

"Wait a minute, I bet the three of you haven't had a proper meal for some time!" All three monkeys nodded, dejectedly.

"Fair enough then, we'll get a proper meal into you before anything else."

Bates didn't really know much about monkey cuisine, but he guessed that a vegetarian plate would be best for them. While he made a bit of haddock for himself, the monkeys seemed quite happy with the potatoes and carrots he prepared for them. To his shock, the creatures did the dishes, without prompting, once the meal was complete.

"If the three of you will help me keep the grounds, I can spend more time trying to find out where Fiske went," he offered, once the day's chores were done. The monkeys nodded, showing a great deal more energy than they had before.

The next few months were productive, yet nerve-wracking for Bates, and it was due to the monkeys. They were clearly intelligent, if not overly so. While they didn't have a great deal of skill at domestic tasks, they were hard workers considerate. The fact that Fiske had trained them to such a level meant that the former master of the estate must have tapped deeper recesses of the infernal monkey power he had been obsessed with. Bates struggled to decide just how much to reveal to Earl Snidely. Eventually, he reported that he had discovered three trained monkeys and was continuing to review Fiske's records. He chose to not tell the nobleman about the secret journals...at least until he had a chance to delve more into them. Should Montgomery Fiske remain alive, Bates was determined to locate him and brief him on the situation before informing the earl.

Winter gave way to Spring, the mansion and grounds evolved from presentable, to respectable, to immaculate, and Bates read the names "Han" and "Yono". Further study of Fiske's notes informed the servant that Fiske had become increasingly obsessed with defeating both Miss Possible and the lad...Ron Stoppable. Perhaps defeating was too light a term; it was clear that he wanted to destroy them both. Further study revealed that this Yono chap was some sort of demon that could grant a summoner a boon...although at a frightful cost. Again, Bates was forced to question what he really knew.

Bates knew that there were powers that didn't follow the science books; he had seen them himself. With this bit to start with, he was forced to concede that such powers must have a source. As such, perhaps this being, the Yono, made use of such folks that would get involved with him. It appeared that Fiske went off in search of some weapon, known as the Han, and failed to find it. His scrapbook and notebook didn't provide much information beyond pictures of a wrecked car, a wrecked boat, and notes about an infernal child. After that, Fiske's notes concentrated on the Yono.

Cross-referencing these sources with Fiske's expense ledger revealed that the nobleman had arranged for himself and a party of monkeys...with excavation equipment...to be transported to the Far East and smuggled into Japan. The very last notes detailed the Yakuza clan that Fiske had contacted to get the monkeys into the country.

There was no help for it. If Bates was going to determine what happened to Fiske, he was going to have to go to Japan. Fortunately, his years of accompanying the nobleman on various expeditions around the world had given him a fair number of contacts, plus he had the somewhat less than upright contacts detailed in Fiske's last journals. Once prepared, Bates prepared an abridged report for Earl Snidely, informing the nobleman that the last records indicated that Fiske traveled to Japan and that some of the people he planned on meeting were more than a little secretive.

Yet, another delay struck. Days after Snidely offered his approval for Bates to catch a flight, the very Earth was invaded! Great robots strode across the landscape, one coming uncomfortably close to the Fiske Estate. However, by a miracle, it took to the air and flew away. With news sources off line and power unreliable for several days...not to mention all commercial flights being canceled, it was well over another week before Bates learned what had happened; that the Possible Lass had lured the invaders to America for the blue fellow, Drakken, to destroy.

But the problems weren't over. Flights remained canceled, so Bates was in the den, watching the news with the monkeys, when the telly showed the ceremony honoring Drakken for saving the Earth. As the camera panned over the crowd, Bates dropped his teacup when the recognized the very rotund lass who had altered his former master, giving him his monkey features. Furthermore, sitting next to the woman was a stone statue with Fiske's likeness. Bates well remembered that Dr. Hall was infatuated with his former master, but why would she have a statue made that showed Monty in a moment of complete terror?

It was getting late, so when the coverage ended, Bates turned off the television and sought his bed. However, sleep eluded him for a very long time. There was something odd about Dr. Hall and the statue and Bates was sure that somehow, it was key to locating Fiske. Finally, he decided that he would attempt to contact Dr. Hall if he found no answers in Japan and managed to drift off into an unquiet slumber.

A/N:

I would like to extend my thanks to Jimmy1201, CajunBear73, and Sentinel103 for assistance with dialog and concept.

Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his ever-patient beta reading.