Disclaimer: Don't own Virals. Still.
Chapter Twelve
"Tory, dear!" A voice called from the house.
Tory groaned, stopping at the front door. Her. How did she even know that Tory was here, anyways?
She ran a hand through her hair, debating whether or not she should just sneak through the back door. She would stay outside, of course, had it not been far too hot for that kind of thing.
Back door it is.
Tory slid through the sliding glass door as silently as possible, and tiptoed up the stairs. Thank God for carpeting.
"Tory, where are you?" Whitney said.
The girl in question froze. "Damn!" She cursed under her breath. She kept going up. Maybe Whitney wouldn't notice?
"Tory, don't hide. I know you're there."
Tory rolled her eyes, despite herself. Where else would she be?
Finally, she arrived at her room. She flicked on a light and tossed her back pack to the other side of the room. A sharp crunching sound came from the floor. A look, and she saw the red glass.
Tory bent down and inspected it. Not damaged. it had been cushioned by the long yellow-grey ribbon. It was tiny, a bit smaller than her fist, and made of intricate layered carved glass. "I had forgotten about you." She muttered.
"Tory, who are you talking to?" Whitney called. She was outside the door. "Are you in there?"
"No."
"Oh, don't be silly." Whitney said, opening the door.
Tory sighed, and put the bottle on her desk. "I'm coming."
"What are you doing in here? Why didn't you just come the first time?"
"Um. Sorry."
"Well, it's too late for that, now. Come on."
Tory started walking out of the door, when Whitney stopped her. "What's this? Is that red glass?"
Whitney had somehow managed to edge her way over to the desk, and was now fingering the red bottle.
Tory snatched it out of her hands. "That's mine."
"I know, I was just asking."
Tory put the bottle back on the desk, irritated. Why was she such a nosy prat, anyways?
"Red glass is really rare, you know," Whitney said, as they came down the stairs.
"I didn't." Tory said, shortly, annoyed that Whitney knew something she didn't. Maybe red glass had something to do with interior decoration?
"It's made when you add gold to molten glass. Very rare, very expensive, and never mass produced. Because of the price of gold, you see. It's used only in expensive decorations."
"How do you know so much about glass?" Tory asked, curious. This was the first time that Whitney had ever shown any interest or knowledge of anything that wasn't… well… girly. Although, decorative glass could, supposedly, gone under the category of girly. But she knew how it was made. Not a girly topic.
"Oh, I had a friend as a child whose parents were into that kind of thing. Artists, they were. When we were kids, we would go out on the beach and look for sea glass. He had a huge sea glass collection. Even I eventually built a sizable one, myself."
Tory took a moment to take all this in, as Whitney began putting who-knows-what into her brunch foods.
"He? Don't tell me the great Whitney went gallivanting off on beaches with boy friends to seek bits of colored treasure?"
Whitney's cheeks turned pink, and she ducked her head as she stirred the pot. "I was just a girl, you can hardly blame me. And he wasn't a boyfriend, we'd known each other for ages. Simply a friend that happened to be a boy."
"Blame you? I think it's fantastic. And it also means that you have no excuse for chiding me for hanging out with my friends that happen to be boys."
"Oh, but this was most definitely different. We never rough housed through the woods, or came home muddy and bloody."
"I've never come home muddy and bloody!"
Whitney turned to look at Tory, eyebrows raised.
"Not at the same time, anyways." She muttered. "So, tell me about this sea glass collection." She said. Subtle, Tory, subtle.
Whitney looked delighted at Tory's interest. "Oh, well, I never found the rare pieces. I think my best find was this one shard that was this delicate red and orange color. Very polished. Such a good find." She smiled. "I remember being so proud. It was really quite silly. Anyways, all of my other pieces were mostly white, green, and brown." She wrinkled her nose. "Not all of them were pretty, but I kept them all. Oh, and there were some that were the most delightful shades of amber and seafoam. But that one red piece was the only one that was really striking, you know?"
Tory shrugged. Of course Whitney would be able to turn this into… well, whatever she was turning it into. Still, she had to admit, it was impressive. Who would've thought that the Whitney Dubois went out hunting for sea glass with her "friends that just happened to be boys"?
"But he… he had a knack for these things. He gave me his collection, when he moved." Whitney smiled. "I have it somewheres."
"Moved?"
"To England." Whitney wrinkled her nose. "I have no idea why on earth he would do such a thing. After high school, he just packed his bags and moved. An awfully dreary place, England. All that rain and cold. I'm much happier here, in the sun."
Tory snorted.
"Tory!" Whitney admonished. "How unlady-like!"
Tory rolled her eyes. "The heat doesn't bother you at all? And what about the humidity? It doesn't smear your makeup?"
Whitney sniffed. "I, for one, am very careful about keeping in the shade, and staying out of the sun. But England, on the other hand. To have a tan would be nearly impossible!"
"What's wrong with normal colored skin?" Tory smirked.
"Why, it's drab and plain, of course. You, dear, are blessed with perfect porcelain skin. You shouldn't complain."
Tory snorted again, just to annoy her. "What's the point of skin that comes in two shades, white and lobster?" She muttered under her breath. "Porcelain skin, my butt."
Whitney handed me a stack of plates. "Don't mutter. And set the table, would you, dear?"
Tory began placing dishes on the kitchen table as quick as possible.
"Oh, now, that won't do," Whitney chided, scooping up the dishes as soon as she had placed them down.
"What?"
"Well, we need a table cloth, of course."
"A table cloth. What for? We have placemats."
"It's rude!"
"To not have a table cloth?"
"Yes!"
Tory rolled her eyes. "Don't get your knickers in a knot. I'll-"
Whitney gasped. "Tory!"
She groaned. "Keep your hair on, woman."
Whitney's eyes went as wide as saucers.
Tory sighed. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, we don't even own a tablecloth."
"How can you… not own… a tablecloth?" She fluttered her eyes, as though this was completely unbelievable.
"I bet I can find some bedsheets, if that would make you feel better." She said.
"Bedsheets?!"
"Towels?"
Whitney just gaped. "You don't… have… a single… tablecloth."
"Why would we? I mean, Kit and I usually just eat in front of the TV. Or placemats, if I feel like putting effort into that kind of thing. But usually just plates and bowls. You know. Like normal people." Tory smirked, enjoying this far too much.
"In front of the TV!"
Tory shrugged.
"You don't have any plain… fabric? Nothing of that sort?"
Tory shrugged again. "Bedsheets?"
Whitney shook her head. "I cannot believe that my boyfriend doesn't own a single tablecloth. How can you live like that?"
Tory's stomach curled at the thought of Whitney being Kit's boyfriend. It just… yugh.
"How have you not noticed that before?" Tory asked.
"Oh, well, we usually eat at my place. Or at a restaurant."
"Most restaurants don't have tablecloths." Tory pointed out.
"Yes, but only the informal places!"
"We're eating informally, aren't we?"
Whitney gaped. Tory raised an eyebrow.
"Well… Well I…"
"Well?"
"I'm dressed up! I prepared a very elegant brunch!"
Whitney was, indeed, dressed up. Yellow and pink sundress. Raccoon-like make-up. Hair put up in elaborate coils, and pinned back with a white flower-y pin. Scary tall heels.
A typical Whitney outfit.
Tory, on the other hand, was dressed in jeans, and an orange t-shirt that said "I found this humerus" with an image of a humerus beneath it. Classic.
A typical Tory outfit.
"This is most certainly a brunch, and I will not have it ruined by your… your… indecency!"
"Indecency?" Tory said, amused.
"Yes, that. Now, I will have to make due. Kit will be home soon."
"Where is he, anyways?"
"Working." She said stiffly. "You said you had bedsheets?"
Tory rolled her eyes. "I was joking about that, you know."
Whitney flapped a hand in the air. "I'm skilled with a needle, I'm sure I can transform any clean bed sheet into a decent tablecloth."
Tory stomped up the stairs to a closet, where she pulled out the oldest, rattiest bed sheet she could find, with a disgusting floral pattern that looked as though it had belonged to somebody's great grandmother.
"Now, this won't do." Whitney cried. "Where do you keep these things?"
Tory, unwillingly, trudged back up the stairs and let Whitney pick out her bed sheet.
Thirty minutes later, Tory was surprised to find that Whitney wasn't lying when she said she was skilled with a needle. The plain white bed sheet had been transformed into a rather lacy, well fitted tablecloth.
Just as Whitney was placing the biscuits and soups and muffins on the table, Kit came in.
"Burning out, isn't it?" He said as he kicked off his feet.
"Smells delicious." He looked around the kitchen.
"Whitney! You've outdone yourself."
Whitney batted her eyelashes like a fool. Tory rolled her eyes and bit into a muffin. It was as delicious as it smelled. Having Whitney around had it's benefits.
Kit stopped short on his way to the table. "Why is there a tablecloth?"
oOo
Tory half-ran to the bunker in the steaming heat, desperate to get away from Whitney. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the boys sat in their respective positions at the bunker. Hi on a beanbag, and Shelton and Ben on what looked like a partially carved and sanded log, about three feet in hight, with two indents for seats.
"What happened here?" Tory asked, gesturing to the new seating arrangements.
"We decided that, as our last seating arrangements were not made of fine enough materials, hence the deterioration, that we needed some finer, more elegant furnishings. Imported from the finest of makers, of course." Hi said, waving an arm lazily in the air.
"Thanks." Ben deadpanned.
"A beanbag and a log. Very sophisticated." Tory said.
"Hey! Sanding that thing took forever!" Shelton said
Ben snorted. "You spent two minutes chipping bark off it before giving up."
"I did not spend two minutes on that thing!"
"You're right, forgive me. One minute."
Shelton groaned. "Useless. You don't appreciate my help."
"Hey, it's less than even I did!" Hi said.
Shelton raised his eyebrows. "And what, pray tell, did you do?"
"I lugged this damn thing over." Hi said, gesturing to the beanbag.
"How did you get that out?" Tory asked. "Without getting caught, I mean."
Hi shrugged. "Mom and Dad were meeting up with some friends." He adopted a solemn expression. "Mommy and Daddy believe that I am a good, responsible boy and can rely on me being safe and sound at home. I even know not to use knives in the kitchen again."
Shelton snickered. "Again?"
Tory put up a hand to stop them, knowing the direction that this would unfold. "All of this is good and well, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to what Whitney has created."
Ben snorted. "What did she do this time?"
Tory snickered. "She was shocked that Kit didn't own a tablecloth, and promptly made one out of a bedsheet." She smirked. "Nothing special."
Hi and Shelton burst out laughing.
"She… made a tablecloth… out of a bedsheet?!" Hi gasped.
"Oh. My. God." Shelton put his face in his hands.
"What's even the purpose of a tablecloth?" Ben asked.
I put my palms up. "Do I look like I know? Apparently it's rude to not have one."
Hi snorted. "Well, what are we doing here?! I demand that we find a tablecloth for that barren table!" He pointed to the rickety table that looked like it would soon meet the same fate as the bench before it.
"Sorry, Hi. No can do, unless I want to be rid of all the bedsheets in my house." Tory said.
"And we can't let that happen, can we now." Hi replied.
"Never." Tory went over and folded her legs neatly beneath her to complete the circle. "So where did you get the log?"
"Ben found it on the beach," Shelton said. "So while Hi was sneaking a beanbag out of his house, Ben and I sanded this baby with the belt sander."
Ben snorted. "And I repeat. One minute sanding, and then you gave up and helped Hi."
Shelton shrugged. "Whatever, man. At least I tried."
"I'm sure." Tory said.
"And then we dragged it over here, and Ben started carving some weird ass Indian shit into this this thing." Shelton said.
"And then Shelton and Hi defiled it with their own carvings." Ben harrumphed.
"Which, by the way, are way cooler than yours." Hi said.
Tory caught a glimpse of a crude smiley face, and then, on the other end, a surprisingly realistic wolf that seemed to be pulling it's way out of the log. More scratches indicating vague carvings crept up the length of the log and melded away into parts that had been sanded smooth, and jutted down into the two deep dents that Shelton and Ben were sitting in.
"You made that?" She asked, clearly impressed.
Ben half-smiled, and Shelton snorted. "We made that."
Ben turned around to shove him. Shelton fell against the arm of the log, laughing. "Actually, this is really comfortable." He said, curling up in the seat. "And the log is almost warm. It's weird."
"Why would you want it to be warm?" Hi snickered. "Just go outside."
"But it's too hot out there! And it's kinda cool in here. So warm."
"Sure, Shelton, sure."
"Can we just read now?" Tory asked.
"Impatient, are we now." Hi said.
"Very." Tory deadpanned. "You do have the book, right?"
"Of course, how could we not?" Shelton said, pulling it off the table and into his lap.
"How did I miss that?" Tory mused.
"Bad observational skills." Hi said.
"Hey!" Tory shrieked. "My observational skills are much better than yours, thank you very much."
"Sure, dear. Whatever makes you sleep at night." He smiled a sickly sweet smile.
"Shut up."
"How can I read and shut up at the same time?"
"Who say's you're reading?" Shelton asked.
"Me. Did anyone else want to?"
"I will." Tory said.
"But you get mad when I interrupt!"
"That's your own fault, Hi. I'll read, because you guys can't stop arguing." Shelton said.
"I'll stop arguing when I get to read." Hi muttered.
"What was that, Hi?" Tory asked sweetly.
"I'll. Stop. Arguing. When. I. Get. To. Read." Hi enunciated each word, as though talking to a toddler.
"I'll read." Ben offered. Three heads turned to him.
"Well, you guys can't seem to shut up, and my voice is mostly coming back, so… I'll read."
"Okay." Tory said, first."
"Sure." Shelton agreed.
Hi groaned. "Why do you guys make me do this? Why Ben?"
"He has a nice story telling voice." Shelton smirked.
Tory turned beet red. "Must we keep bringing this up."
"Alas, we must." Hi said.
"Screw you." Tory mumbled, hiding behind a curtain of red hair.
Ben smirked, and took the book. "Thank you." He said, flipping open to the page.
Chapter Twelve
Cool air oozed from the darkness, bringing with it the smell of disinfectant and air conditioning.
"Air conditioning has a smell?" Hi asked.
"Apparently." Shelton said.
Tory groaned. "One sentence in? Really, Hi?"
Hi bowed. "Anything for a lady."
"Then shut up."
"Are you saying you don't love the beautiful caress of my voice?" Hi gasped, putting a hand on his heart. "I'm wounded."
Tory rolled her eyes. "Oh, go become a poet or something."
We slipped inside and closed the door behind us.
"Bad idea. What happens if we get locked inside?" Hi squawked. "This is my life we're talking about!"
"It's better than leaving the door open and alerting someone that we're here." Shelton said.
"But still!"
"We won't get locked inside because the lock is on the inside!" Shelton said. "I would know because I had to pick the bloody thing!"
"Oh. Yeah."
Tory snorted. "Such a witty comment, it must have taken a true genius to come up with that one."
"It did." Hi said proudly. "Thank you."
"Hit the freakin' lights!" Shelton does not love the dark.
"Shh. Hold on," I whispered.
I groped the wall,
"Interesting fetish you have there." Hi said, waggling his eyebrows. Tory whacked the back of his head, turning bright red.
"Ow!"
"You deserved that."
finally found a panel of switches. Flipping several, I activated halogens overhead.
We stood in a windowless concrete chamber, empty but for a short staircase leading to a sturdy wooden door.
I bounded up the three treads, tested. The knob turned
"Let's go." I motioned Hi to lead.
"Why does he get to lead?" Shelton whined.
"Why are you complaining?" Hi asked.
The others followed.
"No talking until we get to the lab."
"We just committed a felony. I'm feeling really chatty right now." Shelton said.
Hi snorted. "Yeah, great warning, Tory."
"How'd you know it's me?"
"Who else would say something so completely stupid and unnecessary?"
"Me?"
"Maybe it was you."
Tory and Hi both looked to the book. Ben kept reading.
My warning was unnecessary.
"Told you." Hi said, smug.
"I never said otherwise." Tory said.
Hi gasped. "But my lady!"
Tory rolled her eyes. "You have no proof."
"Witnesses." Shelton pointed out.
"Two good ones, too."
"What's a bad witness?" Ben asked.
Shelton and Hi both gasped. "He speaks!" They said, as one.
Ben rolled his eyes. "Who's been the one reading?"
"Yes, but now you're saying your own words!" Shelton exclaimed.
"How do you know these are my own words?"
Well, is the book speaking to us?"
"Maybe."
"Do you want to read and find out?" Hi asked.
"Maybe I've been reading this whole time." Ben said, his lips turning ever so slightly up.
"And we wouldn't know until you told us." Shelton said.
"But I highly doubt you are." Hi said.
Tory snickered. "It's hard to take you guys clearly when you're finishing each others sentences."
Hi and Shelton looked at each other, appalled.
"We have not!" Shelton said.
"Been finishing each other's sentences!" Hi said.
"Sure you haven't." Ben smirked.
"Just read the fucking book." Hi grumbled.
"Cursing now, are we?" Ben said.
"Hell no."
No one was feeling chatty. We'd just committed a felony.
"That's what I said!" Shelton said.
"Well, technically you said 'We just committed a felony. I'm feeling really chatty right now.'" Tory said.
"How do you even remember that?" Hi asked, amazed.
"Magic. So, Shelton that's pretty much the opposite of what you said."
"I was being sarcastic!"
"The lowest form of wit." Hi pointed out.
"Says the King of Sarcasm." Shelton muttered.
Emerging, we found ourselves in a small tiled lobby. Directly opposite was the building's main entrance. In the rear left corner, a narrow staircase rose to a second floor. Gray light arrowed through the dusty window blinds, throwing diagonal slashes across pale green walls, plastic trees, and a row of connected metal seats. The motif was corporate drab, as inviting as a lost baggage claim office.
Hi pointed to open double doors on our right. We scuttled through them, down a narrow hallway, through another set of doors, and into Lab Six.
"Scuttled?" Shelton asked.
"Scuttled. Like crabs." Hi proceeded to "scuttle" across the Bunker and back.
"I think that was the farthest we've gone yet without an interruption." Ben said.
"Too bad these doofuses are here to mess it up. Now we have to try to beat that record." Tory agreed, as Hi returned, pant's painted a rather unattractive shade of gray.
"We should keep track of these things!" Shelton said. "How many words was that?"
Ben shrugged. "I haven't been counting."
"But how else are we supposed to keep track of things?"
"Timing it?"
"Too frequent."
Ben sighed. "Fine. I'll count."
A beat.
"Ninety two."
"Words?"
"No, hours." Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes, words."
"You perplex me." Shelton shot back.
"Real witty, Devers."
"I try my best."
The room had no windows, so we risked the lights.
"I thought you said there was no one on Loggerhead." Hi started.
"But the security guards?" Shelton finished.
They stared at each other in horror. "It's like being married to someone you don't even know you're married to!" Hi said.
Ben and Tory smirked identical smirks. "Something you'd like to tell us, guys?" Tory said.
Shelton shoved Tory. Tory barely swayed. "Shut up!"
Hi simply turned an inhuman shade of radish.
Ceiling fluorescents revealed a chamber the size of a large classroom. In the center were six workstations floor-bolted in two rows. Each station overflowed with equipment.
A stainless steel counter jutted from three walls of the room. Above it hung glass-fronted cabinets filled with beakers and other scientific apparatuses. Microscopes. Circular lenses. Gadgets whose functions were a mystery to me.
"Is it wrong that I want to be in there right now?" Hi said.
"YES!" Shelton and Ben shouted.
"Okay, okay." Hi put up his hands. "I mean, I wouldn't ever go in there willingly, illegally, but… the amount of stuff in there!"
Shelton crossed his eyes. "Don't give her any ideas!" He stage whispered.
Tory snorted. "Too late. Hi's convinced me. We're going in."
All three boys groaned.
"By the way, Ben, how many was that?" Shelton said.
"Subtle, Shelton. Subtle." Tory said.
Ben's eyes slid down the page. "Sixty."
"Okay, Hi, shut up for the next ninety three words." Shelton said.
Hi put his hands up. "No promises."
A Plexiglas enclosure occupied the right quarter of the room. Housing the more expensive technology, that section was locked and alarmed.
"Oh, shit, that isn't the sonicator, is it?"
Shelton glared. "Hiram!"
"What? I'm just asking!"
"You would find out if you had just waited another sentence."
"How should I have known that?"
"Let's see…." Tory said.
"It would have nothing to do with just, y'know," Ben said
"Common sense?" Tory finished.
Hi snickered. "And you say that Shelton and I are like an old married couple. You guys are gross and you're not even dating!"
Both Tory and Ben flushed, as Hi leaned over to give Shelton a high-five.
Luckily, we needed nothing from there.
"See? One sentence, Hi." Shelton muttered.
"Hey! I didn't even interrupt that time!"
"I was just pointing out your flaws."
"Hey! I can point them out for myself, thanks."
"I'm not sure about that."
"Hey!"
"Are you just starting everything you say with the word hey?" Tory interrupted.
"Hey!"
"Okay, hit it." SHelton nudged Hi into action. "Find the sonicator."
"I'm not a dog." Hi muttered.
"But you look, and act like one." Shelton said.
Hi stuck his tongue out at him.
Moving to the third workstation in the second row, Hi removed a plastic cover from a small machine. "My precious," He rasped in his best Gollum impression.
"Which, I'm sure, is ever so perfect." Shelton said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Who's the one interrupting now?" Hi smirked.
"You, being the one continuing it."
"You started it. And then I felt the need to protect and defend my honor and dignity."
"I think it would have been better perfected if you had just shut up and let Ben read." Tory said.
"Only when I prove Shelton wrong." Hi sniffed. "My precious," Hi rasped in his best Gollum impression. And, to be honest, it was pretty good.
"Now, will you shut up and let me read?" Ben said.
"Eager, are we?" Shelton said.
Ben glared.
The contraption consisted of a small white sink backed by an LCD control panel. About the size of a microwave, it resembled a tiny top-loading washer with the cover removed.
"Sweet, eh?"
Hi's father, Linus Stolowitski, was the mechanical engineer in charge of all LIRI scientific equipment. A technophile, he'd transmitted his love of gadgets to Hi.
"Sonicator is actually shorthand for ultrasonic cleaner." Hi spoke in his very best church voice.
"Temple voice?" Hi and Shelton said at once.
"Shut up!" They said, still in unison.
"That's scary." Ben said.
"Terrifying." Tory agreed.
"Do you guys practice or something?"
"No." They said. Still together.
"Suuuree…." Tory drawled.
Temple voice?
"Well, he does go to a temple." Shelton said.
"I was reading." Ben pointed out.
"Oh."
"You should make a point out of it." Hi said.
"Like, just say-"
"NO." Shelton shouted. "We did this earlier. I like my eardrums. Don't kill them, please."
Hi smirked. "Only because you were polite."
"I'm reading now." Ben said, pointedly.
"Oh! Wait, before you do that, how many words were we at?" Tory asked. "Before the temple voice thing."
Ben paused. "Seventy two."
"Are you reading?" Hi asked.
Ben glared. Shelton moaned. "Hi!"
"Hi." Hi grinned impishly.
"Shut. Up."
"What? You interrupted at the same time as I did!"
Shelton groaned again. "Just shut up for the next ninety three words, please?"
"What's it do?" Shelton asked.
"The device uses ultrasound to clean objects." Hi worked as he talked, filling the basin with fluid. "We'll clamp the specimen an inch underwater."
Shelton's nose curled.
"That takes skill. I didn't know a nose could do that." Hi said. All the others ignored him.
"Whoa. That stuff smells like mega-strength Windex."
"It's cleaning solution," Hi said. "I've set the machine's frequency for the type of object we're trying to clean, and for the type of substance we're trying to remove. In this case, metal and dirt."
Shelton looked lost. Ben looked bored.
"I'm disappointed in both of you." Hi said. "Shelton! How could you! I thought you loved this stuff."
Shelton rolled his eyes.
"And Ben! How can you bear to say that? Does my beautiful voice intimidate you to boredom?" He clasped his hands over his heart dramatically.
Silence. Nobody spoke. All had raised eyebrows. Hi sat back down.
"It's like a sonar washing machine," Hi explained. "The ultrasound enhances the cleaning solution's effect." He paused. "Do you guys know what 'cavitation bubbles' are?"
Nope.
"A sonicator has a transducer that produces ultrasonic waves in the fluid. That creates compression waves, which rip the fluid apart, leaving behind millions of microscopic 'voids' or 'vacuum bubbles'. That's called cavitation."
Okay. That was pretty cool.
"In our case, the cavitation bubbles will penetrate microscopic holes, cracks, and recesses in the dog tag. Then they'll collapse, creating energy pockets. The reaction should remove even deeply embedded particles."
"So when the mini-bubbles burst they blast away the gunk?" I summarized.
"See, Shelton? Ben? Tory get's it. I knew you'd fall for my charm eventually." Hi said, smirking.
Shelton and Ben and Tory burst into laughter.
"What?" Hi asked, thoroughly confused.
"It worked!" Tory said, gleefully.
"What worked?" Hi said.
"Ignoring you! There were at least twenty jokes in there!"
Hi groaned. "I can not believe I fell for that!"
"On the brighter side, we go to 107 words." Ben grinned. It looked… different on him. Not bad. He just didn't smile enough.
"I went 107 words without talking?" Hi whimpered.
"And now if you'd please go another 108?" Shelton said, politely.
Hi just stared.
"Exacto." Hi was enjoying his lecture. "Like tiny scrubbing dynamite."
"Why's the thing here?" Shelton asked.
"Sonicators are used for cleaning glasses, jewelry, and metal stuff like coins and watches. Even cell phone parts. Dentists, doctors, and hospitals use the gizmos to clean instruments."
"And scientists." Shelton had his answer.
Satisfied with the settings, Hi extended a hand in my direction. "The ring, Frodo?"
"I have a question." Hi said.
"I know." Tory said.
"But not until I said so."
"Not until Ben said so." Tory corrected.
"How can Ben know my question before me?"
"He has the book."
Realization dawned on Hi's face. "Oh. No, I was talking about the other question."
"Which is…" Shelton prompted.
"Well, I would tell you if you wouldn't keep interrupting."
Shelton and Tory smirked. "I know the feeling." Tory said.
"You're going to need some ice for that burn." Shelton snickered, high-fiving Tory.
"As I was saying…" Hi sniffed.
"We know." Ben said.
"So now you're in league with them?"
"Maybe."
"Smooth, Blue. Smooth. Anyways, as I was saying."
"We know." Shelton said.
"SHUT UP!" Hi screeched.
Tory laughed. "And I repeat. I know the feeling."
Hi glared. "As I was saying- don't you dare say anything here-" He paused. "Shit. I forgot my question."
The other three laughed.
"It's not funny!"
"You're right." Shelton gasped, taking off his glasses.
"It's hilarious!" Tory said, doubled over in laughter.
"You guys are mean." Hi crossed his arms.
Ben recovered first. "Okay. Right. Remembered that question, Hi?"
Hi glared.
I Pulled a plastic baggie from my pocket and removed the dog tag. Seeing the cement-like crust, my confidence faltered.
"Oh! I remember now! What's with the Lord of the Rings theme?"
"That was your ever so important question?" Shelton snorted.
"How should we know how your mind works?" Tory said. "You're the one who started it.
"This thing better work," Shelton said. "We're risking our butts to use it."
"How long?" Ben asked, already restless.
"Fifteen minutes. Get out of my hair and it might go faster."
Ben checked his watch, then wandered off the way we'd come in.
"What were you planning on doing there?" Hi asked.
"How should I know? Ask future!Ben."
"I will." Hi said. He paused. "What were you planning on doing there?"
"Not funny." Ben said.
Shelton settled into a chair to wait.
Knowing we'd need something to view the tag once it was cleaned, I scanned the lab for optical equipment.
One counter had a Luxo lamp clamped to it's top. The movable-arm magnifier lens was surrounded by a circular fluorescent bulb. Perfect. In a drawer I found several and lenses and a penlight and placed them beside it. Viewing station complete.
"Five more minutes," Hi chirped. His love of experiments had overridden his fear of capture.
"I'll get Ben." I volunteered.
I checked the hallway and lobby, but found both empty.
"Ben?" I hissed, as loudly as I dared.
"How can you hiss something that doesn't end in "s"?" Shelton asked.
Tory shrugged. "I dunno. You just… do. Like this: Ben."
"Okay. That was definitely a hiss." Shelton nodded. He mimicked her. "It just sounds weird when I try it."
"That it does." Hi agreed.
"Why are we doing this again?" Ben asked.
"Because future me was hissing you name." Tory said.
"Right…"
"I don't know, just read."
No answer.
Ben looked up. "Of course not. I mean, would you reply if someone was hissing your name like that?"
There was a moment of silence. And then Hi gasped. "Oh my God. Did Ben just make… a joke?"
Ben snorted. "It does happen, you know."
"Actually, it didn't." Shelton said.
"...Yeah it did." Tory said.
"Are you sure?" Hi said. Double question mark necessary.
Ben shook his head. "That conversation right there made absolutely zero sense. Moving on."
I considered yelling up the stairs, decided against it. Not wanting to stumble around in the dark, I returned to Lab Six. A series of beeps was announcing the end of the cleaning cycle.
"Beep beep beep." Hi said.
"All rriiighty then!" Hi removed the tag and ran it under cold water.
"That was you trying to be me?" Hi buried his face in his head. "Do not do that again."
"Do what?" Ben asked.
"Sound… like… chirpy…"
"Chirpy?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just don't sound like you're… I don't know! It just sounded wrong."
Ben quirked an eyebrow. "Oh...kay?"
I watched over his shoulder.
Much of the grime was gone. For the first time, I could make out indentations on the tag's surface.
Tory whooped, and lifted the ceiling with her fists
Hi stood and threw the beanbag in the air.
Shelton jumped up and down on the log.
Ben put his face in his hands.
A few moments later they calmed down.
"Ben, you don't seem happy." Hi said in a worried tone.
"Hi, you seem too happy." Ben said.
"But we found out!" Tory squealed.
"Yes, yes we did." Shelton agreed. "I'm not sure if it required this amount of cheer, though."
"I thought you were on our side!" Hi pouted, flopping back into the chair.
"Aw… did that require too much effort for ittle wittle Hirampoo?" Tory cooed, still pumped.
"Definitely." Hi made a pose as to feign weariness.
Ben shook his head. "I'm gonna keep reading now…"
Hi wiped the tag with a paper towel and handed it to me. Excited, I placed it on the counter, thumbed the light switch, and positioned the Luxo.
"I can read something!" I confess. It was almost a squeal.
Real life Tory squealed.
All three pairs of eyes turned to her.
"What? This is so exciting!"
"I thought you weren't going to interrupt?" Hi said smugly.
"Oh, shut up. I didn't interrupt, you guys just decided to pause."
"What do you see?" Shelton crowded so close I could smell his deodorant.
"The bottom lettering is clearest. Hold on." I adjusted the lens/ Characters swam, then crystallized into focus. "C-A-T-H. Then and O, I think. I can't get the rest.
"Catholic!" Shelton exclaimed. "A soldier's religion was stamped on the last line."
Tory coughed. "Not going to interrupt, I see."
Shelton put his hands up. "Hi's words, not mine."
Hi huffed, and crossed his arms. "What can I say? I'm a hypocrite. Of course, the rules don't really apply to me, what with my being Godly in relation to the rest of you."
Shelton whacked him upside the head.
"Ow."
"You deserved it."
"No, that actually hurt."
"Suuuure."
"Catholic," Shelton guessed. "A soldier's religion was stamped on the last line. What else?"
"Book me agrees with real me!"
I squinted through the lens again.
"Not good for your eyes. Shame on you!" Hi said.
"Above that, more letters" O-P-O-S." Aha! "His blood type, right? O positive?"
"Gotta be." Shelton thought for a moment. "Can you make out any numbers?"
"I think so. On the next two lines. But they're really hard to see. Looks like the first string is nine digits long. Above that is a second sequence, looks like both letters and numbers." Quick count. "Ten characters. Why?"
Shelton grinned and raised both hands to the sky. "Good morning, Vietnam!" he whisper-screamed, elongating the final word by a dozen syllables.
"How can you tell?" Hi asked. "You haven't even looked."
Now it's my turn to teach, sucker!" Beaming, Shelton threw an arm around Hi's shoulders. He started to arm-wrap me but stopped short, self conscious about my gender. The spontaneous move morphed into a head scratch.
Shelton coughed, and turned bright red.
Ben smirked.
Tory just rolled her eyes. "Boys." She said.
Boys.
"That's what she said!" Hi shouted. "No need to side with her. You're a dude too!"
Ben snickered. "I was reading."
"Oh."
We've got a nine-digit social security number and a ten-digit military service number. That's rare." Releasing Hi,
"Thanks." Hi mumbled.
Shelton pointed at the tag. "In the late sixties the armed forces switched from military ID numbers to social security numbers. But for several years they printed both, just to be safe." Dramatic pause. "That occurred only during the Vietnam War."
"Incredible," I said. "We caught a big break there."
"True," Hi agreed. "Call me crazy, but couldn't we solve this in an easier way?" He adopted a pensive look. "How about… oh, I don't know, maybe just reading the guy's name?"
Good point. Back to the magnifier.
As much as I raised and lowered the arm I couldn't bring the letters into focus. "There's too much damage," I said. "The lettering is obliterated."
"Big words, Tory." Hi said.
"Are you sure you can keep up?" Shelton said, mock concerned.
"Are you sure you can keep up?" Hi shot back.
"Yes, yes I am."
"Then so am I."
"Such a loyal follower I have."
"No, it's just that if your feeble mind can keep up with Tory's brilliance, I'm sure mine definitely could."
"Thanks."
"Any time, mate."
"Mate?" Ben snorted.
"I think the brits say that."
"Brits?" Tory questioned.
"Brit-ish." Hi enunciated.
"Sounds likes grits." Tory said.
Shelton adopted a southern accent. "True southern food."
Ben rolled his eyes. "Can I read now?"
"No one's stopping you, mate." Hi said.
"No one but you." He said, even as he flipped the page.
I flipped the tag indented side up. Vague symbols wavered under the lens.
"The reverse side's a little easier to see. But the letters are backward. I can only make out an F on the next like up."
"Focus on the top row," Shelton urged. "That's the soldiers' last name. Get that, we would investigate online."
Using the penlight, I angled a beam across the tag. Letters appeared as shadows in the metal. "This is working. I see an N. Then a C. No, it's an O." I increased the angle of the penlight. "Then a T-A-E. The last is an H."
I reversed the string in my mind. "Heaton."
"Well, that's a start." Hi flicked a salute. "Nice to meet you, F. Heaton."
I summarized aloud. "F. Heaton. Catholic. O positive blood. Served during the Vietnam War era."
"Not bad," Shelton said.
Not bad? I was psyched. We'd accomplished our goal. But our discovery only led to more questions.
Who was F. Heaton? Why was his dog tag buried on an uninhabited island? Where was he now?
I didn't know. But I was determined to find out.
And it was time to go. Our luck couldn't last forever.
We were repacking the sonicator when Ben burst through the double doors.
"Ben, the name was-"
He waved me off.
Tory held up a hand, shocked. "Wait, what? You don't care?"
Ben sighed. "If you had let me finish reading…"
"No, no, no, no. Do you care? Like, actually, legitimately care?"
"I was the first one to go with this insane plan of yours, wasn't I?"
"Good point."
"Can I read now?"
"Still no one stopping you. Mate." Hi interjected.
"Still no one but you." Ben shot back.
"Hey! I didn't say anything!"
"... Yeah you did."
"Nuh- uh!"
"..."
"I didn't!"
"What're you doing right now?"
Shelton put his hands between the two of them. "Children, children, don't fight."
Ben snorted.
"I found another lab upstairs. Locked, but I think it's in use." Ben was speaking to everyone, but looking at me. "You'll want to see."
"We've got what we came for. We should leave before we're nabbed."
"Something's in there. Something alive."
"Why do you say that?"
"I heard barking."
Ben slammed the book shut and dropped it on the floor.
Tory squealed. "No! No, no, no, no, no!"
"What?" He asked, puzzled.
"You can't just end like that!"
"Why not?"
"Because the chapter isn't over!"
"Yes it is." Ben said, still confused.
"You heard… barking? That's it?"
"Yep."
"Okay. Shit."
Hi whistled. "Tory has a potty mouth. Tory has a potty mouth." He chanted.
"Hi won't shut u-up. Hi won't shut u-up." Tory said in the same sing song voice.
"Doesn't have quite the same ring to it."
"Who cares?" Shelton said. "Either way, I'm starving. I'm gonna go get some chow. What say you?"
Hi gaped. "I'm the fat funny white kid! Not you!"
"So… I'm not allowed to be hungry?"
"No!"
"Your logic is brilliant."
"I know, right." Hi fanned himself. "You guys just can't resist it."
Shelton stood. "I'm gonna go get some food. Who's coming?"
"I just ate." Tory said.
"I'll go, as my loyalty to my character." Hi sniffed.
Ben just shrugged.
"I think Whitney has leftovers." Tory said. "Good stuff."
"Are you inviting me over?" Hi fluttered his eyelashes in a manner that looked as though he was having an facial spasm of sorts. "Alone? Oh, you bad, bad girl, Tory."
Tory shoved him. Hard. He fell back into Ben, who shoved him forward, into Shelton's arms, who, looking disgusted and kicked Hi onto the floor.
"I do not appreciate being manhandled." Hi grunted, picking himself off the floor.
"Don't be an idiot, then." Tory replied. "Come with me. Let's go annoy Whitney."
Hi squealed, cheeks reddening. "I'm so excited."
Ben punched his arm.
"Owww…." Hi whined.
"Shut up."
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"HA. YOU FELL FOR IT. I'LL NEVER SHUT UP. NEVEEEEEER!"
Ben punched Hi harder. Hi fell into the sand.
"Thanks, mate."
"Any time."
"Please. No."
A/N: I'm trying to do… 3rd person? Yeah, that. Fun. Bear with me.
What did you think of this chapter? What did you think of the longer non-reading section? Tory and Whitney bonding time? Should I do more of that kinda thing? Was the tablecloth thing stupid? Please tell me! Please review! Review's motivate! And I posted in under twoish weeks in a row. Pleeeease? Thank you!
Waaaay too many exclamation marks.
I think I'm high on chocolate right now.
I love chocolate.
I love food.
Food is life.
Life is food.
Live to eat. And eat to live, I guess, but I think I'm probably going to die because f how much I eat. But, then again, who cares? Food is good. I love food. Possibly more than myself. Speaking of, I'm hungry. I'm going to go eat some food right now.
Okay, ranting aside, THANK YOU for reviewing!
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-VN
Edit 1/19/2015: So it turns out that there was a weird glitchy thing, and none of the bolds came out, so I just went back and redid it all. Fun. Maybe it'll be bolded this time.