‘Without a Trace’ by Pipa

 

Emma’s Preface: I’m pleased to say that yet another of my lovely readers has been inspired to try her hand at her own Gor fanfic. We’ve had a couple of masters writing for us, and now we have the lovely kajira, Pipa, with her own tale set on Earth, which may be the first of several interlinked stories (fingers crossed). 

 

With a nod to the style of the cute Nancy Drew Mysteries, two nosy young twins set out to unravel and solve the mystery of the disappearance of their two pretty cousins, Lucie and Melissa, who of course ended up on Gor. What makes this tale very special is that Pipa hasn’t just written it, she’s also gone and made her own computer art (with some advice from Chloe, I believe, in how the software works). 

 

Prologue: Unwelcome Surprise

 

My name is - or was - Lucie French. I'm twenty years of age, and a third-year student at the University of Worcester.

 

I have a part-time job working the circulation desk at the 'U' Library, and tonight, when my shift is done, I bundle up - it's pretty cold out - and set out for home. Just off campus there's a coffee place and I pop in there for a mocha latte. I try not to drink coffee at night but I've got a paper due in the morning for Cultural Geo 332, and I haven't even started it. From Starbucks it's just another two blocks to our apartment.

 

'Our' apartment? My sister Melissa (younger than me by a year) and I share the place. The rent isn't too bad and we don't have to put up with the annoyances of life in the residence halls. 'Lissa is a bit more of a social butterfly than I am - cheerleader and everything - but most of the time it's not a problem. She's the only immediate family I've got left apart from Grandfather, so I figure it's worth putting up with her.

 

I groan though, when I see Barton's jeep parked out front. With a paper to write, my sister's creepy boyfriend is the last person I need hanging around. When I reach the top of the stairs, I see that the door is open a crack so I give it a little push and step inside. And then I stop dead in my tracks.

 

Bart's not the surprise; I knew he was here. But on the floor, my sister - out like a light and halfway stuffed into a canvas duffle - that's a surprise. "The fuck..." I hiss, then, "What have you done to her, you prick..." Too late, I realise that Barton is not alone and I try to turn.

 

*click*

 

I collapse like a rag doll. From my bug's-eye view of the floor, I watch the spreading pool of mocha latte. I can feel my fingers twitching, but little beyond that.

 

"Now what do we do Bart? You said we were only taking one."

 

"That was the plan," boyfriend agrees, "but plans can change, and I think this one just did."

 

The other guy - still behind me - crouches and rolls me onto my front. I feel my coat being pulled off, and my hands are pulled behind me and secured. Zip ties? That's how they do it in the movies. If I could move, I'd struggle. But I'm pretty sure that anything beyond drooling is beyond me at the moment.

 

Now I'm rolled onto my back and for the first time I can see the accomplice. "emhe oh," I demand. My voice sounds like it's coming from the next room.

"Maybe later," Barton smirks.

 

I try to kick at his gorilla buddy but the best I can manage is another twitch.

 

"The big glasses make her look like an owl," the goon chuckles as he swiftly zip-ties my ankles.

 

"Yeah, I think she wears them so people won't notice her undersized boobs," Barton explains as he crouches nearby. My glasses are pulled away from my face. "Won't be needing these, not where you're going... little Miss Einstein," he adds with a sneer.

 

A second duffel appears; it's unzipped and set on the floor next to me. The hem of my skirt is pulled aside, and then the waistband of my tights is tugged past my hip. "This is going to pinch," creep-o smiles unpleasantly as he shows me the hypodermic. It does.

 

The last thing I remember thinking is that my Geography paper is maybe going to be a bit late.

 

 

Prologue: Not Kansas. Not Massachusetts either.

 

It's the rocking and rumbling that jostles me into consciousness. I open my eyes, and blink in the bright sunlight. Then I blink again, because seated opposite me are three young women. They're quite pretty; I can see that easily, because they're naked. Glancing down, I see that I am as well, as is the girl next to me. Craning my neck, I can see that there's another beyond her. Each one of us wears a heavy metal - iron maybe? - collar which is chained to the side of the wagon.

 

Something registers, and I suddenly reach up to my face... My glasses! Crap.

 

"You don't need them," the girl seated to my right whispers. "I wore contacts... before... and now I don't. And I can see just fine."

 

Squinting, I look about, and sure enough, everything appears clear... vivid even. Not like before. "Wh-where are we?" I ask with a note of urgency.

"In a cart," the beauty facing me growls. "What does it look like?"

 

"No barbarian speech!" a voice sounds from my left. I turn and see a man guiding the shaggy ox which is pulling the cart. He's looking over his shoulder at us, and he doesn't look pleased. I swallow nervously, and then... something else dawns on me: He was not speaking English. Or Spanish, or French or Latin.

 

But I understood every word. "How..." I breathe quietly. 

 

"No clue," the girl next to me whispers. "But somehow... we're able to understand him." Turning my head, I look again at the man. He's armed with a spear, and he looks like a Roman soldier or something. Only then do I realise that the 'ox' is bigger than any sort of ox I'm familiar with. Way bigger.

I moisten my lips, and speak very deliberately: "Where are we? Seriously, I mean?" Now... I'm able to converse in several languages... but I've never spoken this one before. This is insane.

 

One of the girls facing me clears her throat. "I think this is Gor," she says in this language that none of us should know.

 

Quite improbably, I actually know what she's talking about. In one of my English classes last year I had to choose a series of novels to analyse. The class was boring, so for a laugh I chose the Martian novels of Edgar Rice Burroughs. When the grades were posted I stopped to check the Notice Board. I was pleased - but not surprised - to see that I'd earned an 'A', the highest mark in the section. Then I sensed a presence nearby, and turned to see one of the boys from the class.

 

"You got an 'A'..." he frowned. "For writing about freaking Mars? Next time sweetie," he continued with his voice lowered, "take a real chance and write about Gor. If you dare. Now there's a world that knows how to handle girls with an excess of self-esteem!" 

 

I sniffed haughtily, and stalked off. Twenty minutes later I was back in the apartment, Googling 'Gor.' Then Amazon where I found the first title of a ridiculously long series. I downloaded it and began reading... When I finished reading, I was affronted and appalled. Then I downloaded the second book.

 

Back in the present, I frown. "Get out!" I scoff as I try to extinguish my own doubts. "Gor is just... just some crackpot fantasy."

 

"Okay," the girl across from me shrugs. "Only..." Sighing, she points over my shoulder. Turning I look toward the horizon, where the faintly visible moons are setting. Three of them.

 

It dawns on me that I - or all six of us, really - may be in some very deep shit.

 

For a time, I process all of this in silence, until another memory fragment intrudes. "Melissa!" I exclaim suddenly. She was there when this insanity started, and now she's not.

 

"Girlfriend?" one of the others smiles sadly.

 

"No, my..." For a split second I have to search for the word. "My sister!" I cry. "She was with me!" 

 

"Easy," the woman closest to the rear of the cart warns. 'Look," she says pointing down the road, back the way we've come.

 

Looking, I see another guard walking behind our cart. But beyond him, there's a second cart. I breathe a great sigh of relief. 

 

* * *

 

As the sun gets higher in the sky, I begin to see signs of cultivation. Certainly the condition of the road has improved. Around noon, a fork in the road is reached and we bear to the right. Pursing my lips, I look backward to make certain the second wagon follows. At the fork, it takes the left branch. "Nooo..." I keen, and try to rise from my seat, but the chain securing my collar is too short.

 

Turning as best I can, I grip the side of the cart and cry out loudly, "'Lisssaaa!" 

 

A miserable "Luuuce!" is heard in reply, then silence.

 

The guard who'd been following hurries forward and angrily grabs me by the hair. "Be silent, kajira, unless you wish to be the first to become acquainted with the whip!"

 

I don't wish that, and so I collapse on the rough seat, sobbing bitterly as I curse my cowardice.

 

 

One: Vanishing Act

 

"This..." Tuesday Rollins declared, "is weird." She clicked the computer mouse twice in succession, then glanced over her shoulder to see if her sister was paying attention.

 

She wasn't. Wednesday Rollins lay prone on her bed, fiddling with her cell phone. She was much more interested in the sale going on at TJ Maxx than in whatever her twin happened to think was weird at this moment in time. Tessa was a dear of course, but she always seemed to think something was weird. And that, the slightly younger girl thought, was... well, weird.

 

"Aren't you going to ask me what's weird?" Tessa asked after several moments' silence.

 

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to," her sister sighed in reply. "But you're not going to let it go, are you?"

 

"Nope," the older sibling laughed. "Come look at this, Wendy. Seriously, it's weird."

 

Wednesday rolled off the bed and stepped over to Tessa's desk. Her eyebrows rose when she saw what was on the screen. "Ancestry dot com? I thought you got tired of that stuff."

 

"I did," Tessa nodded. "But then I started thinking again... you know, about Lucie and Melissa."

 

The twins' cousins had - some months before - seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. Vanished, as in, without a trace, which was... creepy. The girls had always been close, being close in age and growing up in neighbouring towns. So when the French cousins disappeared, the Rollins twins were deeply affected. Wendy placed her hand gently on her sister's shoulder. "Hey... you've got to get over it, Tess. They're gone."

 

Tessa exhaled heavily. "I know that, but..." She pointed at the computer monitor, "it's weird. Why hasn't anyone asked about... the other disappearances?" Wendy squinted and read the names in the adjacent boxes, 'William French' and 'Elisabeth Rollins'. The missing girls' parents had themselves disappeared, years before. Without a trace.

 

* * *

 

Martin Rollins was always a bit... guarded when his daughters appeared in his study together. They had an unfair advantage when they did that, and he was pretty certain they knew it. But this evening's visit was different; there was no wheedling going on. Given the direction the conversation had taken, he almost wished there were. The subject of his sister's disappearance never failed to disturb him. What had happened that night? And it wasn't just Liz... William had been numbered among his best friends. In the often contentious environment at the University, like-minded colleagues could be hard to find... especially in these troubled times.

 

"But Dad," Tess pressed impatiently, "didn't the authorities think it a bit much for the girls to disappear the same way their parents did? It kind of... strains credulity, you know?"

 

Martin closed his eyes for a moment, and massaged his temples. "Tessa, Wendy, William and Liz's case was closed years ago. The police had no reason to reopen it."

 

Wednesday Rollins grimaced. Yeah, sometimes Tess was a bit too dogged in her pursuit of answers, but... "Dad, the only reason they closed the case was, they didn't have a freaking clue."

 

"Just like with Lucie and Melissa," Tessa added. She drew a deep breath, then continued, "And... what about Uncle William's mother?"

 

The girls' father exhaled. "What about her?"

 

"What happened to her?" Tessa demanded.

 

"Well," the man began carefully, "actually... nobody knows. It was... a long time ago."

 

"Nineteen eighty two," the older twin said helpfully. "Interesting that nobody's noticed that three successive generations of the same family have been struck by suspicious disappearances. If I were Grandfather French, I'd be beating down the doors of the police commissioner's office." Elena Markiadis French, mother of their missing uncle, had disappeared many years before. Without a trace.

 

Tuesday paused before venturing, "Do you think he would talk to us about it? We can say we're researching for a family history project. For school."

 

"He might," Martin Rollins answered with a shrug. "And he might not." The topic was out in the open now, and the man knew better than to try to suppress his daughters' curiosity. Damage control was the best he could hope for. He put on a stern face. "But understand: if he declares the subject closed, it is closed, and you two are to do no further prying. Got it?"

 

"Oh, totally, Daddy!" Tessa smiled her winningest smile.

 

"Yep, totally!" Wendy nodded in agreement as the twosome turned and fled.

 

Martin could only sigh as the door closed behind them, and hope that he had not just given his daughters a crowbar to aid in forcing open the lid of Pandora's Box.

 

 

Two: Now What?

 

"So what's our next move?" Wendy Rollins' eyebrows rose in an inquiring sort of way. "Are we going to pay a visit to Grandpa French?"

 

Not just yet," her older sister replied. "Soon, probably, just not... immediately."

 

Wendy breathed a sigh of relief. Although Gilbert French was often referred to as a grandparent, he was actually a great-uncle... by marriage. He seemed a nice enough man, but the younger twin had always considered him a bit... intimidating. "Good," she nodded. "Maybe it would be different if he was our grandfather too, but he isn't."

 

"He did take the girls in when their mom and dad vanished," Tessa reminded her.

 

"There was nobody else," Wendy frowned. "Unless they came to live with us, and our house is too small. And the state wouldn't take charge because he had a ton of assets... it would have looked bad if he'd refused to take them."

 

"Bad for business," Tessa agreed. "And I could be wrong, but it always seemed like he cared more about his business than about Lucie and Melissa."

 

The pair sat for several moments in silence. "Soooo, Miss Super-brain," Wendy mused with lips pursed, "do you have something else in mind for us to be doing... immediately?"

 

"Okay," Tessa sighed after several moments' silence. "Do you remember how we helped clean out the girls' apartment? After the cops failed spectacularly in learning anything useful from the 'location of interest' ?" The twins and their dad had helped Grandfather French load everything from the girls' apartment into a storage pod.

 

"You mean 'crime scene' don't you?"

 

"The authorities claimed," the older girl said carefully, "that there was no evidence to indicate that a crime had been committed there."

 

Wendy nodded cautiously. "Right. So did you spot a clue there that everyone else missed?"

 

"Not really," her sister smiled. "But I did.... maybe by accident... slip Lucie's i-Reader into my purse."

 

"And she left a message on it that said where she went?" the younger twin scoffed.

 

Tessa shook her head. "No messages. That would be too easy. But when I started up the device it automatically opened up the last thing she was reading."

 

"Don't tell me. Fifty Shades of Whatever?"

 

The older girl laughed. "Not exactly. But it was something kinda curious, a sci-fi thing called 'Rebels of Gor'. Absolute trash."

 

"Gor," Wendy mused, "I think I've heard of it. Isn't that like some BDSM cult?"

 

"Kinda," Tessa nodded. "But there were two things that struck me as being weird. Lucie was really smart, right?"

 

"Super smart," her sibling acknowledged.

 

"Then why was she reading rubbish like that?"

 

"Um, I dunno?"

 

"It gets better. Or worse, maybe. Those books are a series, and 'Rebels' is the thirty-third book." Wendy's eyes opened wide. "And going by her bookmarks, Lucie read every one of the ones that came before it."

 

"Oh," Wendy said simply. "Okay, I've got to admit, that is some weird shit."

 

"So I did some Googling, to find out more about this 'Gor' stuff."

 

Wednesday Rollins wrinkled her nose, then prompted, "And what you discovered was..."

 

"What I discovered," Tuesday sighed unhappily, "is that a there's a motif which occurs repeatedly in the books: beautiful earth girls are kidnapped and taken to this primitive-appearing planet - hidden on the far side of the Sun - to serve as slave girls. Sex slaves, mostly."

 

"Of course," The younger twin agreed, rolling her eyes. She processed this intelligence for several moments before adding, "Please tell me that you don't think our cousins were abducted by aliens and carried off to another planet."

 

"I don't think that," Tessa smiled, and her sister breathed a sigh of relief. "But it's a known fact that there are people who consider this fictional planet... an example worth emulating right here on good ol' Planet Earth."

 

"Seriously?"

 

The older girl nodded, and pressed on, "Is it possible that Lucie - who we know was an insatiably curious sort - asked some of the wrong questions at the wrong time, and in the wrong place? And somebody decided she was getting too close to the truth?"

 

"Possible, yes. Question: not knowing what happened to Lucie and Lissa... do we really want to start asking some of those same questions?"

 

"I'm not sure," Tess admitted. "But I think when we go to visit Grandfather French, maybe we ask permission to have another peek in that storage pod. Before we start asking him questions about Aunt Elisabeth and Uncle William... and about his own missing wife."

 

 

Three: Curiosity

 

Gilbert French's import/export business was conveniently headquartered on the grounds of his estate in the secluded hills of Central Massachusetts. So when the Rollins twins came to call, they were greeted by the man's personal assistant and led to his pleasantly-furnished study.

 

"Thank you Madeleine," the gentleman smiled as he motioned the girls to chairs facing his imposing desk. Settling into his own, he regarded the matching pair of young women seated opposite him. "So when you rang, you mentioned something about family history? Whatever it is, I'm pleased to see you; I don't believe you've been up here for months."

 

True story, Wendy Rollins reflected silently. Because whenever we came here, it was to see Lucie and 'Lissa, not their grandfather. Which raises a question: why doesn't he look more like... an ancestor? To look at him, you wouldn't think he was any older than Dad, and certainly not old enough to be anybody's grandfather.

 

"Well," Tessa smiled guiltily, "we didn't want to be a pest. Or pests, plural, I guess. When we..." she paused for a moment, "When we were over here a lot, it was, like, before we all went off to the U. And before..." Her words trailed off. The conclusion of the sentence was too painful to voice.

 

"I understand," the man said gently as he nodded. "I still have trouble myself coming to terms with the fact that they're gone."

 

"Yeah," Wendy sighed. "We've actually been thinking about it a lot."

 

"Have you?" Gilbert French's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure it's healthy to dwell on it. Have your parents suggested grief counselling, perhaps? I'm told it can be helpful in dealing with a sudden loss."

 

"Oh," Tessa forced a smile, "I don't think we dwell on it, you know? It's just that... well, we were really close. And the way they just... vanished... well, it would be pretty unusual if we weren't kind of... curious." The man smiled an ironic sort of smile at this. "The family history thing got us thinking about what happened and we thought, if we could have a look at their stuff again... remember, what we packed up and put in storage?" An acknowledging nod.

 

"Well," the older twin continued plaintively, "we thought there might be something that could... trigger a memory... or help us to somehow connect the dots."

 

"Because the police sure didn't have much luck at dot-connecting, did they?" Wendy added bitterly.

 

Gilbert French sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful, while the twins exchanged glances. "All right," he said at length as he rose and stepped over to a picture hanging on the wall. "I'm not crazy about the idea, frankly," he said over his shoulder, "but if it helps you to reach some... closure, then that's a good thing in my opinion." He pulled at the picture frame, and it swung away from the wall to reveal a safe. He began pressing numbers on its keypad.

 

Just like in the movies, Wednesday Rollins thought. When the door opened, he reached inside and recovered a key. "Let's go," he suggested with a strained sort of look, "The pod's out in the barn." They made their way outside, and crossed the driveway. A man was considering the opened engine compartment of a white van parked by the barn door, which stood open. "Jack, you remember my nieces?"

 

The girls waved. They'd known Jack Phipps - Grandfather French's resident handyman - for years. "Girls," Jack inclined his head and smiled, "nice to see you after all this time."

 

"They're going to be having a look in Lucie and Melissa's storage pod," Gilbert said, holding up the key. "Maybe spot a clue everyone else missed." He shrugged.

 

Jack nodded silently as the trio walked past him and into the barn. 

 

It was a sultry day, and the barn was hot. "Oh!" Tessa exclaimed when her eyes adjusted to the darker interior. "Um, which one is it?" The question was entirely reasonable, for there were two pods set against the barn's rear wall.

 

"The one on the left," Gilbert smiled. He stepped over to it and began working the key in the padlock. As he did, Wednesday gently nudged her sister and inclined her head meaningfully toward the neighbouring  storage unit. That one was secured too, but with a sophisticated-looking digital lock. The padlock finally opened, and the man examined it. "Needs oil, I guess," he decided. The latch was lifted, and the door swung open.

 

Gilbert stepped back and motioned toward the opening. "It's all yours," he sighed. "I just hope you're not wasting your time. If there's anything heavy inside and you need it moved, don't hesitate to ask Jack."

 

"Thanks," the girls said in unison, and Gilbert French turned and strode in the direction of the barn door. "Let's get to work!" said Tessa, and they did.

Outside, Gilbert paused to have a few words with his assistant. "Keep an eye on them," he cautioned. "I know they're not going to find anything, but they mean well. I don't want them hurt."

 

Jack nodded. "There's nothing to find, we know that. When we checked out that apartment, it was clean as a whistle. Whoever swept it was a pro; I couldn't have done any better myself." He thought for a moment, then added, "As for keeping an eye on them... do you want me to fix a tracker in their car? I know they're not going to find anything here but... well sir, you know how curious girls can be."

 

 

Four: More Questions than Answers

 

Tuesday and Wednesday Rollins looked into the opened storage pod. "I remember there being more stuff in it when we first loaded it," Tess remarked.

 

"There was," came a voice from behind them, and both girls jumped. Jack. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. The large furniture pieces were donated to Salvation Army. The police forensics people couldn't find anything on them, and they took up a lot of space." He deliberately omitted the fact that French Freight Ltd had engaged their own investigators, who'd confirmed the police findings. Or rather, non-findings. In Jack Phipps' estimation, the pristine state of the apartment's contents was as suspicious as the disappearance of its two tenants. Like everything was fresh from the factory. Way too convenient.

 

"I brought a work light you can point inside. Save your eyesight," he smiled. The light was mounted on a metal pole; when plugged in and switched on, it illuminated the pod's interior nicely.

 

"Thanks Mister Phipps," Wendy smiled.

 

"And there's a box fan out here somewhere," the man nodded. "If I can find it, I'll set it up to blow into the container. It's not AC, but at least it'll keep the air moving for you." Turning, he went off to search for it.

 

"With the furniture removed, there's less for us to search," Tessa mused. "I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing."

 

"In this heat," her twin chuckled, "I vote for good thing." Stepping inside, they maneuvered some crates to use as stools so they could at least sit as they went through their missing cousins' belongings. There were a number of plastic bins which contained clothes; they each chose one, and got started. 

After a few minutes, Wendy spoke up. "This stuff is all Melissa's" she said, holding up a lacy bra. "Lucie only wore this size in her dreams."

 

"Bitch," her sibling laughed. "Hey, make sure you check pockets. Every one of 'em."

 

"I don't think any of 'Lissa's things has enough fabric to make pockets out of," Wednesday answered after a moment's thought. "Actually, If I didn't know her, and I only had her taste in clothes to go by... I might think she was a bit of a slut. I mean, if Mom ever saw stuff like this in our laundry hampers, we'd have some explaining to do." As evidence, she held up a very short skirt.

 

"I see what you mean," Tuesday agreed. "Lucie doesn't seem to have had anything that... edgy. I always thought she dressed kind of like a librarian. Always managed to look pretty, though."

 

"Hello?" Wendy laughed. "Don't forget, she worked in the library." Then a stretchy - and very sheer - top was held aloft. "I don't think Melissa wore this to church. I'll bet her creepy boyfriend liked it though."

 

"Ugh, Barton?" the older twin shuddered. "Only met him once, and that was one time too many. Golly, what a pig."

 

They turned on hearing a noise outside, and saw Jack setting up the fan. "This should help, girls. Call me if you need a hand moving anything, right? I'll just be outside working on the van." Turning, he strode toward the door.

 

"Ooh, yeah, that feels good," Tessa smiled as the faint breeze started wafting through their work space. She thought for a moment. "Do you think that..." She grimaced before continuing, "that 'Lissa and Barton were... you know..."

 

"I'd be amazed if they weren't. Remember that one time we met him? He wasn't involved in the conversation because he was too busy trying to grope her. But hey, there must have been something about him she liked. I mean, really liked."

 

"Too much information!" Tessa hissed. "Yuck. Okay, are we done with clothes? Let's have a look at their books and papers and stuff." These bins were considerably heavier, sometimes requiring a twin at each end when they needed to be shifted.

 

"It looks like there's a lot more of Lucie's stuff here," Wendy remarked.

 

"Remember, she was a year older than the rest of us. So she was starting her junior year. 'Lissa was only a sophomore, and she wasn't a brain, not like Lucie." The girls had begun sorting the bins' contents. "Look at all these notebooks!" Tess marvelled. "She kept notes on everything!"

 

Her younger sister pointed to a much less impressive pile at her feet. "And Melissa had next to nothing." She looked over at her sibling. "What was she majoring in?"

 

"She was undeclared, I think," Tuesday replied. "Allowed plenty of time for partying."

 

"They really weren't very much alike, were they?"

 

Tessa shook her head. "Not very. But that didn't keep them from being close, did it? I mean, they were as close as we are... only we have an excuse," she added with a chuckle as she began reading a handful of papers. "Heh, check this out, it's a paper for Lit 366. That's upper division stuff." The paper was handed to her sister, who began reading.

 

"Edgar Rice Burroughs?" she exclaimed, looking up. "He's like the Tarzan author, isn't he?"

 

"Yeah. Remember when I said Lucie was interested in everything? I wasn't kidding."

 

Wendy tuned a page and continued skimming. "So this guy wrote stories about warriors and princesses and shit on Mars? Wow, Luce really dove deep here. Wish I could write papers this well."

 

Tess nodded. "It would have been really easy for her to say 'this stuff is crap, don't bother reading it,' but she did a serious analysis instead... Hey, when was that paper turned in?"

 

Her sister turned back to the cover page. "Final, Fall Semester. And she got an A+ of course."

 

The older girl pursed her lips. "So she wrote that before she started devouring all those 'Gor' novels. I wonder if there's a connection?"

 

"Lot of the same stuff, but the Mars stories came first by, like, fifty or sixty years so there's, like, zero sex in them. Unlike Gor," Wendy pointed out. "Do you think that's what tickled our sweet cousin's fancy?"

 

Tessa shrugged. "Hard to imagine, but it's possible, I suppose. Which brings us back to the beginning. Did those 'Gor' stories start her asking questions? The wrong sort of questions?" The twins exchanged concerned looks.

 

 

Five: Intermezzo

 

The day was drawing to a close, and the principal officers of French Freight Ltd gathered in Gilbert French's study. Jack Phipps, refreshed after a long shower, accepted a glass of whisky from Madeleine, tasted it, and smiled.

 

"Any luck with the van?" Gilbert asked.

 

"It runs," Jack allowed, "but not well. We've been using it for five years, sir. It doesn't owe us anything."

 

The older man frowned. "I know that. But it's a nuisance to find one that looks anonymous... while running perfectly. We cannot accept breakdowns while an operation is in progress."

 

"And we've never experienced one, sir. If you're unsure, we could obtain a new model and I could subject it to some... abuse. For appearance's sake."

 

"I rather like that," Gilbert smiled. "Let's do it. Madeleine, Jack will require the company credit card tomorrow; see to it." The young woman nodded silently, and made some notes. "Now," the man continued, "how did our visitors fare this afternoon?"

 

Jack looked thoughtful. "I've reviewed the video. As we expected, they did not find anything new. However, they exchanged some confidences which support conclusions we had already reached. They also made some comments regarding your granddaughter's unusual interest in... the Counter-Earth."

 

Gilbert French's eyes opened wide. "Lucie?" Jack nodded. "She had an interest in Gor? How did we not know this?"

 

"We didn't know because we found no evidence pointing to such an interest. The girls did not learn of it from anything they found today; it was something they already knew. We can only guess at the nature of your granddaughter's interest, but - whatever it was - perhaps she shared that interest with her cousins?" He held his hands up, and concluded, "This is all conjecture, of course."

 

The older man sighed. "What was the other thing? The one supporting a conclusion we'd reached?"

 

"They considered Barton Balthasar... unworthy of young Melissa's attention."

 

A smile pulled at the corner of Gilbert's lips. "Is that what they actually said?"

 

"No sir," Jack smiled too. "I believe the word they used was pig."

 

Gilbert French sat back in his chair. "These girls," he said carefully, "must be watched carefully. Obviously I do not want any harm to come to them... but the direction their inquiry is taking is worrisome. Before they went home this afternoon they stopped in here, to say thank you. Young Tuesday also mentioned that there were other matters regarding our family's history which she would like to learn more about."

 

He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully. "So they will be back, with more questions. Between that prospect and their investigation of a possible Gor connection..."

 

"Sir, they have no reason to believe that Gor is anything other than a pulp fiction."

 

Gilbert frowned at the interruption, then continued slowly, "That is true, as of today. My concern is that they will continue to explore... and learn. As we know, girls can be very curious." He glanced over at where Madeleine was seated; the young woman lowered her eyes guiltily.

 

"And if too much is learned," he concluded, "our pretty sleuths may become... an inconvenience."

 

 

Six: New Directions

 

"I've got an idea," Tuesday confided quietly to her sister.

 

"A good one, I hope."

 

"Well," the older twin smiled. "I think it's pretty brilliant. Do you know where Dad is?"

 

"At the U. He has an afternoon class. Intro to Criminal Law."

 

"His favourite. Let's go, then," Tess hurried toward their bedroom door.

 

"Where?"

 

"Dad's study, silly. We can't very well raid his bookshelf when he's sitting there grading papers can we?"

 

* * *

 

Carefully the duo stepped into the book-lined study. "Why are we raiding his bookshelf?" Wednesday whispered.

 

"Because there's something here we want." Tess looked over her shoulder as she knelt on the floor in the room's farthest corner. At the end of a row of dusty textbooks an edge of silver plastic could be seen. Carefully she pulled the laptop from its hiding place and blew the accumulated dust from the top edge.

 

"A laptop!" Wendy whispered excitedly. Her sister reached back into the bookshelf and felt around until she located the power adapter. This too was given a quick puff of breath. "Is that Dad's? I mean, he has a newer one, I know," the younger twin pressed.

 

"Yes, he has a newer one, and no, this isn't his. Let's get out of here."

 

Nothing further was said until they were safely back in their own room. Wendy placed her hands on her hips, "Okay Sherlock," she growled. "If it isn't Dad's, whose is it?"

 

Tess carefully set the device on her bed, attached the power cord and plugged it in. An orange light appeared on the side of the machine. "Charging." With a satisfied nod she scrambled onto the bed and sat facing the machine. "Okay. A couple of years ago, I needed a new case for my laptop, and I asked Dad if he had a spare. And he did. He pulled it out of his closet and opened it up. This..." She pointed to the machine, "was inside. When I asked him about it, he told me it was his sister's. Elisabeth had left it with him so he could check it for malware. Then he gave me the case, and stuffed the laptop in his bookcase. I only remembered it this morning."

 

"Okay, I get that," Wendy nodded, "but why did we lift it? Won't he miss it?"

 

The older girl sneezed suddenly. "I'm willing to bet - from the amount of dust down there - that he doesn't visit that corner of his library very often. He's probably forgotten he put it there. And we heisted it..." Wendy lifted both eyebrows expectantly. "We heisted it because we want to learn what sorts of searches Elisabeth was doing... before she vanished."

 

Wednesday exhaled very slowly. "Tess? Do you really think this is a good idea?" There was a trace of fear in the question.

 

The older girl smiled indulgently. "A bunch of people we care about have vanished into thin air," she pointed out gently. "If we can find out what happened to them, and why... maybe we can keep any more of them from disappearing. I don't think we want to be the last members of the family left."

 

"Sounds kind of... dystopian, that's all," Wendy observed unhappily.

 

"I'm beginning to think that's exactly what it is," her sister agreed.

 

* * *

 

"Windows 10," Wendy mused as the logo screen went by. She'd parked herself on the bed next to her sibling so she could watch the process, and offer helpful advice. "That should make... exploring a little easier, shouldn't it?"

 

Yeah," her sister agreed, "but we want to be sure this thing is disconnected from the Wi-Fi. If we find something promising in the browsing history, we'll copy the link to a flash drive. Then we can investigate the link... from another machine."

 

"Maybe we could use one of the computers in the U Library?"

 

"I hope so," Tess answered. She clicked an icon to open the file explorer. "Now let’s see what sort of shiny pebbles Aunt Elisabeth left for us to follow..."

There were a lot of pebbles, some shinier than others. The younger twin kept a tally of which addresses were accessed repeatedly; the ones with the most hits went to the top of the list for follow-up. Some were interesting simply by virtue of the name appearing in the URL; others were less obvious.

 

* * *

 

The following afternoon the twosome gathered around a computer in the University library. "Let's see what we can see," Tess breathed as she plugged in the flash drive. The gadget was quickly scanned and deemed safe. Then the file in which they'd stored the links was opened.

 

"Here goes nothing," she said, and clicked on The Church of Nature's Unity...

 

Sometime later, after reviewing pages upon pages, they sat back in their chairs. "Nature's Unity, my ass," Wendy whispered. "It's just a thinly disguised patriarchal cult."

 

"Welcome to Gilead," Tess grumbled. "Only this outfit really exists. Makes me want to puke. What's second on the list?"

 

"The 'Women's Truth Foundation'," her sister replied. "Let's have a look." The results of this lookup were as disturbing as the first one. "There are women who buy this bullshit?"

 

"We know there are," Tuesday answered calmly. "We see them in our classes every day. Even when we were still in high school there were girls who thought that males could do no wrong. Hashtag #MeTooNOT. And it gets worse every year. Ironic that the acronym is WTF, huh?"

 

The younger girl covered her mouth to suppress a giggle. "It's a good thing you can see the humour in it," she remarked.

 

"If I couldn't, I'd go nuts," Tessa sighed. "There's one more, let's see it." Wendy clicked the link.

 

'The Three Moons Society' - unlike the previous links - did not hint at any religious or political affiliation. It was strictly a social organisation, with a significant emphasis on 'strict'.

 

"Holy crap," Wednesday hissed, "there are really places like this? I thought that was just in kinky novels."

 

"Get this," her sister breathed as she read on, "'The ruled may expect to be fully trained, to their Rulers' specification and satisfaction. Our Society's dedication to these Natural Principles is absolute. Do not inquire further if your interest is casual; once admitted to the Society, turning back ceases to be an option.'"

 

"And look," the junior twin pointed further along on the same page. "'The strong will Rule, and the weak will beg to be ruled. This is the truth of the Antichthon, and we aspire to make it Earth's truth as well.' Tess, what the hell is an antichthon? This is fucking crazy," she whispered.

 

"Now you know why we didn't link to these addys from our house," Tuesday sighed. "Let's get out of here."

 

 

Seven: Antichthon?

 

"Hey," Tuesday looked back over her shoulder, "come check this out."

 

Her sister - who knew better than to argue - stepped across the room and looked over her sibling's shoulder. "What did you find?"

 

"Antichthon," the older twin read aloud, "noun. plural -thones. counterearth."

 

Wendy exhaled. "Crap. It actually says that?"

 

"It actually says that. It's from Greek and Latin. So maybe people have been believing this craziness for millennia?"

 

The younger girl pursed her lips. "If that was so," she mused, "wouldn't there be myths... folklore or something making reference to... a hidden world?"

 

"Good point," Tess agreed. "Let's come back to that. I found something else, too. Elisabeth kept a file - entirely separate from 'contacts' - in which she kept addresses that interested her. Like, street addresses."

 

"And..." her sister prompted.

 

"Among them are ones for the Church of Nature's Unity, that WTF outfit... and the Three Moons Society."

 

Wendy drew a sharp breath. "Are they... nearby?"

 

"Funny you should ask," Tessa smiled. "The church has a place just outside Worcester. The New England headquarters of the Women's Truth Foundation is in Framingham. And the 'Society' is in Chestnut Hill."

 

"That's practically in Boston, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah, but I'd expect that to be close to a major urban area. The church probably has more than one location. Elisabeth just focused on the one that was closest. Let's get back to the Library and do some more hunting."

 

* * *

 

Pete Newton looked like a college student, one who probably should have been working on a term paper. Papers were not on his mind today, however. The previous day his employers, Circle Security of Chestnut Hill Massachusetts, had received an alert from one of their monitoring softwares. Someone was searching some unusual corners of the Internet. This was not unheard of, because word did get around, and some people were... curious. Statistically, many of these curious individuals turned out to be very attractive young women who were interested in the 'Three Moons Society', the security agency's parent entity.

 

Circle Security's chief reason for existing was to investigate those curious individuals. Every one of them. The present inquiry was slightly unusual in that it had originated from a library computer. Usually, girls who were snooping did so from home, and they were much easier to trace. In this case Pete was able to identify the particular workstation that had been used, but there was no guarantee that the snooper would use the same one again. So he'd installed a subtle surveillance program that would monitor searches coming from any of the Library's machines. Then, from his phone, he instructed the program to watch for 'Three Moons Society'... and proceeded to text some friends.

 

He'd been there for about an hour when two girls appeared and parked at the machine that had been the source of yesterday's event. They exchanged some whispers, and then began working. Four minutes later, an alert window opened on Pete's cell phone. Someone at the same machine was searching for 'Three Moons Society'. Pete smiled, dismissed the pop-up, and left. He found a comfortable place to continue working just outside the library entrance; sooner or later, he figured, they'd have to come out.

 

They did. He got a good photo of them using his phone, and followed at a distance. They made their way to a student parking lot, where he got another good photo of their vehicle's license plate. As the pretty twins' Toyota drove off, he called his boss. "Boris? You're going to love this. But first, we need to get one of the apprentices to place a vehicle homing tag for us..." The registration was reported, and 30 seconds later Pete Newton knew where the Rollins sisters lived.

 

"So, what am I going to love?" Boris demanded.

 

"The inquiry? It wasn't a pretty girl..." Pete began.

 

"Then why are we wasting time tracking this vehicle?" his boss snapped. Boris had a shitty sense of humour.

 

"Because it was two pretty girls, boss. Twins." One of the elusive holy grails of the interplanetary slave trade.

 

"Ah," the man said, and Pete could hear him smile.

 

 

Eight: A Favour is Sought

 

"Dad? Do you have a few minutes?"

 

"Of course I do," Martin Rollins smiled. "Come on in. If nothing else it's an excuse to avoid grading these papers!"

 

"Are they that awful?" Wendy asked as she took a seat.

 

"Some of them," the girls' father admitted. "Sometimes I think the future of our legal system looks very bleak. How did your visit with Gilbert go?"

 

"It was okay," Tessa nodded. "He tried to be helpful. We're going back in a few days to inquire about... his own background. We haven't even been able to find a birth certificate for him."

 

"I've been told that his early years were... turbulent," Martin ventured. "Best to get the story straight from him. If he's willing to discuss it. Remember, you're treading close to some very painful memories."

 

"We know, Dad. We won't cross the line, we promise."

 

"I'm going to hold you to that." The man's tone was serious; then he brightened, "So, what is it you need from me?"

 

"Weellllll..." the younger twin began cautiously.

 

"What Wendy is trying unsuccessfully to convey is," her sister continued with rather more confidence, "we'd like to benefit from one or two of your... inside connections."

 

"My inside connections," the man repeated dubiously. "Such as?"

 

"Such as your contacts in the City of Worcester Police Department?" Wednesday - eyebrows lifted - ventured.

 

Martin sighed heavily. "I have some, yes. And your particular interest is in..." he prompted gently.

 

"The report into the investigation of Lucie and Lissa's disappearance?" the older twin added hopefully.

 

Fingers steepled, he considered this request. "Why?" he asked at length. "Meddling in police business is often a really bad idea. Especially in these... unusual times."

 

"We wouldn't be meddling, Dad," Wednesday assured him. "We just want to know what they learned. It would save us from having to repeat all of the digging that they did."

 

"We know what they learned," Martin growled. "Not a damn thing."

 

"What we don't know," Tess countered, "is where they learned it."

 

"Touché," their father smiled. "You should both consider switching your majors to pre-law. Okay, I'll reach out, and see if I can get my hands on a copy of that report. But it may take a few days."

 

* * *

 

"Maria, all I need is a copy of the file. I don't want to have to go to a judge for a Freedom of Information ruling."

 

"Do you think you'd get it, Marty?" the woman seated opposite him asked as she stirred her coffee. "Things are changing, amigo; FOI is a pretty low priority these days. And the way the top brass framed it, that was one of the most cut and dried investigations the department had seen in years. There was simply no evidence." The man frowned as she continued, "The... conjecture was that those two girls decided to bolt, and did a perfect job of covering their tracks."

 

"They didn't," Martin shook his head. "I know they didn't."

 

"I know," the detective forced a smile, "this is personal for you, and you want answers, but..."

 

"But what, Maria? What's the stumbling block? It didn't used to be this way."

 

The woman sighed. When she continued it was with her voice lowered, "Marty, you know what I'm up against. I'm not one of the insiders. If I piss off the wrong people, I'll be working parking control in a heartbeat." She looked over her shoulder nervously, then added, "For the next twenty years!"

 

"Then don't piss them off," Martin pressed on. "You don't even need to run the copier, just zip the report to a flash drive. We both know that everyone in the department does it. I'll even supply the drive..."

 

"No way, that would get my ass canned. I'll pick up a drive, but you owe me ten bucks." The man reached for his wallet, but Maria grabbed his wrist. "Are you freakin' crazy? Cash changing hands in a coffee shop? Send it in a birthday card. And Marty... you owe me more than just the ten bucks. I'll have the thing for you in the next two or three days."

 

"Thanks Maria," Martin Rollins smiled. "I appreciate it."

 

"Just don't forget who your friends are, lawyer-man," she smiled in return. "But I'm not doing this because we're friends; I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. Some of us with the badge... we still think that's important."

 

 

Nine: Digging Deeper

 

The Toyota was parked in back, near the barn, and Tuesday and Wednesday climbed out. They waved at Jack, who was working on what appeared to be a brand new white van. "New toy, Mister Phipps?" Wendy called.

 

"You could say that," the man smiled in reply.

 

* * *

 

"Your nieces, sir," Madeleine Vorec announced quietly as she brought the twins into her boss' office.

 

Gilbert French looked up from the report he was reading and smiled. "You've returned, as promised. Please, sit. Would you care for some lemonade, perhaps?" The duo nodded gratefully. "Madeleine, see to that." His assistant disappeared.

 

"I believe you wished to learn more about our family's history?" He prompted.

 

"Yes sir," Tessa replied. "We've done some research and obtained some interesting results. But we're equally interested in unanswered questions, and we thought you in particular might be in a position to... clear some of those things up."

 

"You mean the unanswered questions? All I can do is try. Ask away, ladies!" the man suggested. Madeleine reappeared, and offered a frosty glass of lemonade to each of the visitors.

 

"Okay," the older twin began, "I guess the first question is... where exactly were you born? We haven't been able to locate a birth certificate in any of Ancestry dot com's databases."

 

"Truthfully, I'm not certain there is one," Gilbert confided. "I was born in France - a tiny hamlet - in the autumn of 1944. You must understand that those were... very unsettled times. I am not even certain of the date. Both my parents were killed when I was still an infant and I passed into the care of the relief agencies."

 

"In France?" Wednesday Rollins exclaimed. "Wow." 

 

Her sister was busy doing subtraction in her head. 1944? That means he's well into his seventies... but he looks like he's forty. At most. Tessa wasn't quite sure how to diplomatically phrase the next question. Drawing a deep breath, she ventured, "And your... spouse? Elena?"

 

The man's smile faded. "Yes. Elena. Different place, similar story, I'm afraid. She was born in 1947, during the Greek Civil War. Her parents were both fighters on the royalist side, and both perished in the conflict. She was brought to an aid station run by the Quakers, and they brought her to the States." He sighed heavily. "We met at Boston University, and married after she graduated. Those were good years."

 

"I'm sorry this is bringing back painful memories, Uncle. We had no knowledge..."

 

Gilbert forced a smile, and held up his hand. "Everyone's past has dark corners. Perhaps not yours, you are both so young, but in time, who is to say..." The words trailed off. Then he gave a firm nod, as though resolved to continue. "We were very happy. I thought so at least, but I'm no longer so sure. One day thirty years ago, she had to travel to Vermont... a business trip. She never arrived in Burlington, and she was never seen again."

 

The twins exchanged worried looks, then faced forward again. "The FBI thought she might have crossed into Canada, but there was no record of her doing so. Of course at the time that was a very long, and uncontrolled border... Who knows what happened?"

 

"Of course, Uncle," the girls chorused. "We're so sorry."

 

"And that," he went on bitterly, "seemed to establish a cruel precedent. Our son, William, and his lovely Elisabeth disappeared, and then both their daughters." He shook his head sadly, "How much pain can one family be expected to endure?"

 

"We didn't intend," Tuesday ventured, "to tear open old wounds. But we've learned so much more than we knew before. We're very grateful."

 

"Do you like chocolate chip cookies?" Wendy asked hopefully. When the man nodded, she smiled, "Well then, we'll bake you some. They're great for raising one's spirits!"

 

"I'm sure they are," Gilbert smiled warmly. "And I'll look forward to sampling them. You are good girls. I'm confident that one day you will bring pleasure to some lucky fellows."

 

"We should go," Tessa sighed, rising. 

 

Gilbert French pressed a button on his desk, and Madeleine appeared. "Sir?" she asked.

 

"See my nieces out, Madeleine. Then return quickly, as there is a vitally important matter that will require your immediate attention."

 

 

Ten: Revelations

 

Tuesday and Wednesday hurried to their bedroom with the manila envelope their dad had handed them. "Open it!" the younger girl urged when they closed the door behind them. 

 

Tess sat in front of her desk and began opening the envelope. "Bring your chair over, and we can read it together." Moments later, the pair began examining the first page. "Pictures... descriptions... birth dates... nothing we don't already know," she muttered as she turned to the second page. "Okay, here: Lucie was supposed to work at four on the nineteenth and she didn't show. Her supervisor was concerned because she'd never even been late before. There was no answer on Lucie's phone, so she sent someone over to the apartment. Nobody home."

 

"And it was a similar story with 'Lissa," Wendy continued. "She didn't show up for cheerleader practice that afternoon. A friend tried to call her but just got beeps and then the call ended. She thought that was odd so they checked her emergency contact - which was Lucie - and tried her. Same deal, beeps and the call was dropped."

 

Lucie's employee file at the Library listed her grandfather as her emergency contact. Gilbert French knew nothing of the girl's whereabouts, and his attempts to reach Melissa were unsuccessful. He then contacted the Worcester Police Department.

 

"So it was Grandpa French who actually reported them missing," Tessa mused.

 

"And it looks like he pushed pretty hard to get the police to actually investigate," Wendy added. "He must have been out of his mind with worry. He called Dad pretty quickly, I remember, to find out if we'd seen them."

 

"But we didn't have any classes with either one of them," the older twin remembered with a sigh.

 

They read on. "The last person who saw either one of them was a girl working at Starbucks the evening of the eighteenth. Lucie stopped and got a mocha latte, it was on the security video," Wednesday said looking up.

 

"When the police entered the apartment, it was neat as a pin," her sister frowned. "Now I know Lucie was pretty fastidious, but 'Lissa? Give me a break."

 

Both girls sat back in their chairs, folded their arms, and considered.

 

"Poof!" Wendy muttered. "Vanished into thin air. What about the boyfriend?"

 

"Oink oink?" Tess rolled her eyes. "Because he was identified as a 'close associate' the police interviewed him, but it seems like he was in Philadelphia when all this was going down. At a funeral."

 

"And he had proof?" the younger twin pressed.

 

"Yeah, he had cash receipts for the hotel room..." Tuesday paused, and the two faced one another.

 

"Cash?" Wendy repeated with eyebrows raised. "Cash doesn't prove diddly." She began shuffling papers. "Is his address in this stuff? Any other information?"

 

"Got it," her sister held up a completed form. "House... employer..."

 

"Where's he work?"

 

"Cocker's Auto Parts, in Grafton," Tess replied, trying not to laugh.

 

"Figures," Wendy sighed, shaking her head.

 

* * *

 

Barton Balthasar had just set the box of spark plugs on the counter when the cell phone in his pocket began vibrating. Pulling it out, he checked the display, scowled, and tapped the 'answer' icon. "Yeah?"

 

"Balthasar," the caller said simply. "Denevitch. Heads up. WPD has a missing persons file in which your name... appears. Are we on the same page?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"That file got leaked last week. I don't know who lifted it, although I have my suspicions. The bigger problem is, we don't know who received it. Thought I should let you know."

 

"Got it," Balthasar growled, "Thanks loads."

 

"I'm only the messenger, dickweed," the caller replied. "Keep your head down, and your eyes open." The call ended. Barton Balthasar drew a deep breath, and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

 

 

Eleven: Counterpoint

 

Jack Phipps looked around the dimly-lit room and gave a satisfied nod. With the day's scheduled nutrition and hygiene seen to, and the clean-up completed, he was finished down here. He produced his cell phone and tapped the screen several times; in answer, there was a hum, and the elevator door opened. Stepping inside, he tapped the face of the device several more times. The door closed, and the elevator began its ascent.

 

When it glided to a stop, he tapped twice more. The light went out, and a clanking sound signalled that the lock had opened. A shove at the surface in front of him caused the door of the barn's 'unused' storage pod to swing open. Humming absently, he stepped outside and turned to close the door behind him. Finally, he operated the keypad lock. *click*.

 

"There we go," he said to nobody in particular, "goods all buttoned up tight for the evening." Then he crossed the driveway and entered the house. It was time for the meeting.

 

"Ah, Jack," Gilbert French smiled when the man entered his study. "Punctual, as always. Do have a seat," he added, indicating one of the two comfortable guest chairs which faced his desk. A third chair - this one plainer and of wood - was set to one side. It appeared to have been borrowed from a middle school classroom, as it seemed a bit undersized for its occupant. 

 

"Madeleine," Jack nodded in acknowledgment as he sat down.

 

"Sir."

 

"Let's begin," the older man said crisply. "Madeleine has completed the manifest for the next shipment, and we've been notified that The Dutchman is en-route. So we have to set the wheels in motion."

 

Phipps nodded; this was not unexpected. "The list," he said, and held out his hand. The young woman quickly handed him a piece of paper, and he began reading.

 

"Counting the three already present... downstairs," Gilbert continued speaking, "that means there are fifteen yet to be... collected."

 

"Fifteen," Jack agreed, and glanced at the girl. "You will send details for each of them. If past experience is any indication, this will be a particularly delicious intake. I never cease to be amazed at the quality of your research, Madeleine." He glanced at his boss and smiled. "The Lady Elena is going to be very very pleased."

 

The girl permitted herself a smile. "The science hasn't failed us yet, sir."

 

"Identifying the perfect cross-section of DNA traits was a huge breakthrough in itself," Phipps continued with a note of admiration evident in his voice. "But using that matrix as a filter for scanning genealogy databases, that was pure genius." Madeleine looked down modestly.

 

"And since she's still employed in doing remote work for the family tree company," Gilbert French chuckled, "we'll be able to continue using this process indefinitely. It's a pity that the Sardar can't assign more ships to this pipeline."

 

"Resources are scarce, sir," Jack pointed out.

 

The computer monitor emitted a *beep*. "We have visitors," the boss said as he peered at the screen. "My curious nieces. Show them in, Madeleine."

 

* * *

 

The Toyota came to a stop near the barn, and the twins climbed out. "Wait," Wednesday said, and moved closer to her sibling. Nodding in the direction of Jack's van, she whispered. "Look at the dings. That's a brand new van, isn't it? It looks like it's been driven to Baja California and back!"

 

"Or," Tess giggled, "maybe Jack is just a really crappy driver." She reached into the back seat, retrieved a plate of freshly-baked cookies which she handed to her sister, and they began moving towards the house.

 

A smiling Madeleine met them at the door, and brought them to their uncle's office. "Hello girls, Jack and I were just finishing up some business. What brings you here this lovely evening?"

 

Wednesday held out the plate. "We promised you some chocolate chip cookies, Uncle, the last time we were here. And we wanted to drop them off for you!"

 

"You're too good," the man smiled. "How is your project going?"

 

"Good," Tess allowed, "but it's a lot of work. We're on our way to the Library now, to do more research."

 

"Are you? I won't keep you, then. Make sure you drive carefully; there are all sorts of crazy people on the road these days." 

 

The sisters exchanged a knowing sort of smile. "We will. Enjoy the cookies, Uncle, and we'll see you soon!" They took their leave. 

 

Gilbert exhaled, and looked at the others. "I believe we're done as well; Jack, enjoy the rest of your evening. Madeleine, wait a moment."

 

When the door closed, Gilbert French looked at the young woman. "Over the edge of the desk," he commanded, and she quickly moved to the indicated spot and bent at the waist, her legs spread wide. The man lifted the hem of her skirt and laid it across her lower back. She was not, of course, wearing panties. 

 

Then, swiftly, he pulled out his rigid cock and buried it in her moist softness.

 

 

Twelve: Sunday's Lesson

 

"Will this do?" Wednesday Rollins asked her sister nervously as she picked a bit of lint from the front of her sweater.

 

Tess looked her up and down, and smiled. "I hope so, since I'm not dressed very differently. So... are we ready?"

 

"I'm still not convinced this is a great idea," the younger girl answered. "But I guess so."

 

"Relax. The worst that can happen is they won't let us in. And I haven't heard of many churches that turn away new recruits."

 

The twins' investigation had established that the 'Church of Nature's Unity' had a location in Marlborough, a neighbouring town. They drove there, thinking to have a look around, but the place was locked up. A sign near the main entrance advertised that Church Meetings were held on Sunday mornings at ten.

 

When Sunday came around, the sisters did not tell their parents where they were going; the Rollins family was not particularly religious and such an announcement would have been met with suspicion. They claimed instead to be going in to the University Library. Research, of course.

 

"With all the research those two are doing," their mother remarked as the girls' Toyota pulled away, "their marks this semester should be quite impressive!"

 

"Hmm," was all her husband would commit to.

 

Fifteen minutes later the car was parked, and the sisters climbed out. It was early - twenty before ten - but there was a steady stream of vehicles pulling into the parking lot. Wendy looked at the other people walking toward the entrance and nudged her sister. "I don't see any other women in jeans, Tess," she whispered nervously.

 

"Just look confident," the older girl said. "It'll all be cool, you'll see."

 

They entered through the main doors, because they were being held open, and because all the other attendees seemed to be going in that way. Inside there was a vestibule of sorts. Some people were milling around here, and the girls noted that there was a table with literature set out. They peered at some of the pamphlets, then turned away. "It's the same stuff they've got on their website mostly," Tuesday whispered. "We may as well go in."

 

At the entrance to the assembly space stood a suited man, just nodding politely as people passed. His eyebrows lifted when he caught sight of the twins, however. When they got close to the door, he moved slightly, so that the path was blocked. "Good morning, ladies," he smiled. "Your first visit?"

 

"It is, actually," Tess smiled in reply. "Is it that obvious?"

 

The fellow's smile broadened. "Rather. Our... regular attendees are pretty faithful about following the dress code."

 

"Dress code?" Wednesday Rollins squeaked. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to gauge the distance to the door.

 

"Not a problem," the man gave the pair a reassuring smile. "Visitors are always welcome. We do ask that you remain in the rearmost row..." Stepping to one side, he gestured toward the assembly space, which resembled an amphitheatre somewhat. There were divisions which made it look rather like the rings of Saturn. "The Visitors' Ring is at the rear. Then the Seekers' Ring, which is also for visitors, but Seekers typically observe our... customs." The people taking seats there looked like everyone else; most notably all of the women were in dresses or skirts.

 

"The rings closer to the centre are reserved for the Admitted, the Promised, and the Elect," the man explained further.

 

"Sounds complicated," Tess noted with a slight grimace.

 

"It isn't really," the usher explained. "And most belief traditions feature... strata of some sort," he added with a shrug.

 

"I suppose so," Wendy acknowledged. She knew nothing about this tradition, and not much more about any of the others, so a noncommittal answer seemed safest.

 

The man then escorted them to the row reserved for 'Visitors' and they slipped in and took seats on the polished wooden bench. When he returned to his post, Tess felt an elbow in her ribs. Her sister - with a nod toward the 'Seekers' seated in front of them - hissed, "Not only do they sit closer... but they have upholstered chairs, too."

 

"Big deal," Tessa grumbled, "but if it'll make you happy, then wear a dress the next time we come."

 

The twins watched - while trying not to stare - as the place filled up. They noticed almost immediately that there weren't a lot of visitors, either like themselves or the slightly more plentiful 'Seekers'. By contrast, the inner rings - which boasted multiple rows of seats - were nearly full. After a few minutes, Wendy elbowed her sister again. "What?" the older girl whispered impatiently.

 

"The women seated down in front... I mean, in front of the 'Seekers'..."

 

Tess grinned, and whispered back, "... are all wearing delicate chain anklets. Yeah, I noticed."

 

"And all the same I think," the younger twin continued. "They've all got like a charm attached. Maybe a flower or something."

 

"But that's hardly incriminating," her sister replied with a shrug. "We see a good number of girls in school wearing a cross as a necklace, don't we?"

 

"I suppose," Wendy allowed. "Do you think they have a secret handshake?"

 

The conversation was interrupted by a subdued gong sound. The people in front rose as one, and those seated in the visitors' area followed suit, though less confidently. A procession, moving very deliberately, entered the space through the doors at the rear. It was led by a man wearing a long white robe bearing a metal bowl from which smoke was rising. "Incense?" Tuesday whispered to her sibling. 

 

Four girls followed, also clothed in white; their garments were not as voluminous, being sleeveless, and hemmed above the knee. Each seemed to cradle in both hands a flaming ball... without actually touching it. One was blue, one red, one green and the last, white. "Cool!" Wendy whispered. "How do they hold them without getting burned?"

 

"It's just some sort of holo-widget," her sister scoffed in reply. "Be quiet."

 

Each girl wore a choker to which was attached a small medallion. The twins exchanged puzzled glances. "The charm thingie... same as the anklets?" Wednesday Rollins murmured. Her sister shrugged.

 

Next to enter were more long white robes; these however were trimmed in various colours. The first man - trimmed in blue - carried an important-looking scroll. A woman - green was her colour - followed, bearing a rolled piece of linen and a pair of scissors. Then came a man carrying a carpenter's square and a hammer... whose robe was edged in yellow. And finally, a godlike specimen in a red robe appeared, holding aloft a sword which looked very real. "Oohh, yummy. Can I have one of those for Christmas?" the younger girl giggled.

 

"Behave," Tessa warned as they watched the parade climb several steps to enter the sanctuary. 

 

The first man placed his smoking bowl on a pedestal set to one side, stepped forward and raised his voice. "The Claimed..." he motioned dramatically in the direction of the four girls, "will now return the elements to their Natural state." On one side of the space there was an empty circular marble basin and one of the girls - the one with the green fiery orb - stepped over to it, placed the sphere in its centre, and stepped back.

 

The lights suddenly went out and a flash came from the basin. Slowly, the lights came back up and a jumble of rocks and some flowers could be seen. The second girl approached and set her white fire among the rocks. Again the lights were extinguished and there was another flash. This time when the lights came up the flowers appeared to sway in the breeze. "This is actually pretty cool," Wendy informed her sister quietly.

 

The third girl set her blue flame among the rocks. Darkness... flash... and a small waterfall was revealed. Finally, the red fire was placed at the top of the rocky mound. This time when the lights went out there was no flash. Instead, the flaming globe began glowing more fiercely, and rose above the scene to illuminate the entire amphitheatre. "Wow," Tess whispered with a note of reluctant admiration.

 

The girls retired, and the white-robed man stepped once again to the fore. "This week's lesson will be conducted by Mistress Julia." The woman in the green-trimmed gown stepped forward and smiled. "Good morning Friends... Brothers and Sisters... Masters and Mistresses... the Claimed... and of course, I bid welcome to our several... guests."

 

"Each week we wonder at the celebration of the Ritual of the Elements... it never gets boring does it?" A murmur of assent rose from the assembly. "Every time we are reminded once again of the fundamental truth to which we have dedicated ourselves: the primacy of Nature's Unity. That Unity shows each of us our purpose, and binds us to it. Every one of us makes an essential contribution to that Unity, just as the Elements combine to form our World. Men bring power and strength. Women contribute beauty, and joy."

 

She paused, and looked out over the gathering. "It is only by strict adherence to our purpose that humanity will be able to overcome the social and environmental poisons which are the consequence of human greed," she added with a note of distaste. "Difficult days lie ahead. Our civilization is rapidly decaying, but our steel and our silk will show the way to a new path, and a true freedom!"

 

One of the 'Claimed' hurried over, knelt at the woman's side, and with both hands held up a scroll. The woman took it and unrolled it as the girl disappeared once again. "The reading for today's lesson is from the Tome of Magicians. Be attentive." She began reading: "Order and structure in human life, stability in society, even... civilization itself, depends on sanctions. A civilization must be willing to impose sanctions, and to impose them reliably and efficiently. A lapse in such resolve and practice is a symptom of decline, even of impending disintegration." Her face grim, she looked out over the congregation. Then she continued, "Ultimately civilization depends upon power, moral and physical... upon the will of masters and the reality of the whip and sword."

 

"So ends the reading," the woman nodded as she re-rolled the scroll. "The day is coming. We must be ready when it dawns."

 

The man who had opened the meeting stepped forward once again. "As we conclude," he said a bit less formally, "I would like to remind you all that our meeting the week after next will include a celebration for several of the younger members of our Community." Several names were read, and upon hearing one of them the twins exchanged a quick raised-eyebrow glance. He continued, "these young people, part of our hope for the future, have completed their Passages and will be welcomed into the Circle of the Promised. Obviously this is an important day in their lives, so I hope you will be here to celebrate with them!"

 

He threw his arms out. "Go. Defend Nature's Unity, and obey her dictates." The space - including the corner where the Elements had been enshrined - was again thrown into darkness. After about two seconds the lights came up, but did not progress beyond 'dim'. The white-robed Council persons could be seen processing out, and once they'd left the amphitheatre the lights came fully on.

 

"Well!" Wednesday Rollins breathed, "That was interesting! Hey, didn't Natasha Taylor go to our high school?" This was the name that - several minutes before - had unexpectedly sparked the sisters' interest.

 

"Yeah," Tessa nodded. "Unless it's a different Natasha Taylor... which I kinda doubt." They remained in place to allow the crush of exiting people to pass. "Look," the older girl pointed toward the marble basin where the girls had earlier placed their elemental fireballs. It was empty, as though nothing had happened there. "How weird is that?"

 

"I thought that part was pretty cool, actually," Wendy smiled as they joined the stragglers headed for the door. 

 

The man who'd assisted them when they came in was still standing by the door. "Thank you for joining us, ladies," he said pleasantly. "I hope we see you again some time." This sentiment was answered with non-committal murmurs.

 

"Tessa! Wendy!" they heard as they crossed the vestibule. "I thought I saw you in the congregation! Welcome!" It was Natasha. She greeted the pair as though they'd been best friends. "What did you think?" she asked eagerly. "I hope you come back, we're celebrating my Passage week after next, and the refreshments afterward will be really good. My Mom's organizing all that."

 

Erm..." Tess looked slightly uncomfortable. "We might be able..."

 

"Oh I totally hope you can!" Natasha chirped. "Our Youth Group is a lot of fun! See you in a couple of weeks I hope!" And she flitted off to speak to someone else. Tuesday sighed heavily, and the twins made their way outside. The Toyota was unlocked, and they slipped into their seats.

 

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Wendy gazed absently out of the passenger side window. Then she turned to her sister. "We'll have to find some nice dresses," she nodded, "if we're coming back for Nat's First Communion... or whatever the heck it is."

 

For some reason, the car swerved. "Look out for the fire hydrant," the younger twin added helpfully.

 

 

Thirteen: Snooping

 

The Three Moons Society is located in a spacious brownstone on Ellis Street in Chestnut Hill, just outside the town's business district. The Society uses the basement and the first three floors, and the fourth is reserved for the use of Circle Security. On this particular evening, Pete Newton signed into his workstation to see what might find its way onto his radar during the shift. The young man thought his job very interesting, and this was partly because of its unpredictability.

 

Each of the technicians was assigned a set of monitors for which he was responsible and Pete began running down his list. The third monitor - his present favourite - was showing some interesting activity. "Heh!" he chuckled as he clicked on the alert.

 

"Got something good?" Boris, his supervisor, looked over from where he was working.

 

"My sexy twins are up to something," Pete grinned.

 

"Such as?" Boris prompted.

 

"Such as maybe staking out a respectable private club in the Boston suburbs?"

 

"You've gotta be kidding," the older man scoffed. "Lemme see." He pushed himself out of his chair and moved to where he could look over his subordinate's shoulder. Pete caused the surveillance camera to zoom in on the red Toyota parked several doors down the street. "You weren't kidding, they are cute. As well as being nosy. I guess they don't know how much trouble a girl can get into... from being curious."

 

"Well, they'll have plenty to keep them entertained tonight, won't they?" the young technician smiled.

 

"Jeez, yeah," Boris acknowledged. "The Autumn Social? Maybe they'll wear their iPhones out taking pictures. Just make sure they don't do anything else; I don't feel like dealing with party crashers tonight."

 

* * *

 

"So why do you think it's called the 'Three Moons Society'?" Wednesday Rollins asked her sister when there was a brief lull in the parade of arriving vehicles.

 

Tessa shook her head resignedly. "Because Gor has three moons, silly," she replied.

 

"Who knew?" the younger girl giggled. "Apart from you of course," she added. "Are you following in Lucie's footsteps and reading all of those nutty books?"

 

"Not all. Just enough to get a handle on where these peoples' heads are at," her sister answered a bit defensively.

 

"Here's another one," Wednesday Rollins interrupted as a large, expensive car pulled up to the kerb in front of the building. A man climbed out and tossed the keys to the approaching valet parking fellow. Another man opened the passenger side door, lent a hand to the young woman climbing out, then handed her over to the car's driver.

 

"Check out the dress," Tuesday murmured as her sister snapped a string of photos.

 

"I'm not sure it is a dress," Wendy shook her head in a bemused sort of way. "Looks more like a long cami," she giggled. "But she's wearing an anklet... Just like all the others."

 

Another car appeared, and again the valet parking crew rushed into action. They were not treated to as spectacular a view this time, as the woman climbing out of the car was dressed in a floor-length gown. Nonetheless, she was exceedingly attractive. "Isn't that the preacher lady from church?" Tessa asked, and the younger twin zoomed her iPhone for a closer look.

 

"I think you're right," Wendy decided. "Get her out of the Lord of the Rings costume and she's drop-dead gorgeous."

 

Moments later a shuttle bus glided to a stop; Tuesday squinted and read the writing on the side. "Three Moons Academy? That's a new one." The doors opened, and girls began stepping carefully down to the sidewalk. "Eight?" the older twin breathed when they'd finished exiting. 

 

"Yeah. And every one of them a knockout," Wendy added thoughtfully. "Let's not forget to look up this Academy when we get home."

 

* * *

 

Sometime later, the Toyota was westbound on the Massachusetts Turnpike. "Well that was interesting," Tessa opined as a tractor trailer thundered past them.

 

"What, the truck? Or our secret agent adventure?" her sister wondered in reply.

 

"Our investigation," the older girl answered in a reproving tone of voice. "We made some progress tonight."

 

"I guess," Wendy admitted uncertainly. "So now we know there's a connection between this 'Three Moons' outfit and the 'Church of Nature's Unity', right?"

 

"Exactly," Tuesday nodded. "The anklets for one thing, but seeing the same people - or some of the same people - in both places, that makes the link a lot more certain, at least in my mind. What do you think?"

 

"Yeah, me too," the younger sibling sighed. "So... what's our next move?"

 

Tess thought for a moment. "Where does Barton Balthasar fit in this picture? I think maybe it's time we started paying some attention to Melissa's old boyfriend. Like, serious attention."

 

 

Fourteen: Endgame

 

"I wish I could be convinced that this is a good idea," Wednesday Rollins grumbled as her sister parked the Toyota.

 

"Trust me, it's a good idea," Tess assured her. "As well as being necessary. We certainly didn't learn anything new from watching Creep-o's place of employment."

 

"True," the younger twin admitted. "Who knew that auto parts shops were so uninteresting?"

 

"We do," came the answer. "At least... we know now."

 

Balthasar's house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac on the outskirts of Worcester. Climbing out, they looked about. The nearest neighbour was at least a hundred yards behind them, obscured by a stand of maples. "There's a deck at the back," Tess said as she started toward the house, "Maybe he's not super careful about locking the slider."

 

"How do you know there's a deck?" Wendy asked as they moved across the grass.

 

"Google maps. Satellite view. Isn't technology cool?"

 

Even though they knew Balthasar was at work... they crossed the deck on tip-toe. "I feel like a ninja," Wednesday whispered as they reached the sliding door. She peered inside as Tess carefully examined the lock. "Looks like nobody's home," she said.

 

"It's supposed to look like that silly," her sister hissed. "Because there isn't anybody here."

 

"Except us," Wendy pointed out helpfully.

 

"This is locked," the older girl decided with a frown. "Let's see if we can unlatch it by lifting on the door. That works at our house." Both girls took hold of the door handle and lifted; sure enough there was sufficient play to allow the latch to come clear. "Sweet," Tessa grinned. "Let's go." They slid the door to one side, stepped into Barton Balthasar's living room, then carefully slid the door shut behind them again.

 

"What are we looking for?" Wednesday asked.

 

"I'm betting there's something incriminating in here," her sister answered.

 

"But will we know it when we see it?"

 

"We'll know," Tess said confidently and stepped further into the room.

 

*snap*

 

"What the..."

 

A *puff* issued from the ceiling vent above the twins' heads, and - almost as though it was choreographed - they fell senseless to the floor.

 

* * *

 

Barton Balthasar's cell phone rattled in his jeans pocket. Pulling it free, he looked at the screen; an alert - sent from his house - flashed, and the man smiled. "Whoever invented tassa gas oughta get a medal," he chuckled privately.

 

"Hey Bryan!" holding his phone aloft, he called across the room to his boss. "Looks like my dishwasher is leaking; I should get home and start the damage control, okay? Seeing as how business is slow?"

 

"Go deal with it," his supervisor waved. "I'll see you in the morning."

 

Fifteen minutes later Barton - after taking note of the nearby Toyota - parked his Jeep in front of the house. 

 

Outside the front door he paused and typed the 'disarm' code on the cell phone's face. Then he entered; he was pretty certain he knew what he'd find. Even so, he was surprised to see two unmoving forms lying near the entrance from the deck. He moved closer, for a better look. One of them was lying on her back.

 

"Well, well, well," he sneered. "If it isn't Melissa's hottie cousins." Leaning closer, he lowered his voice: "It's your lucky day, babes. You're just in time to join our field trip. Unfortunately the first class places are all taken," he added apologetically, "but I've got a couple of canvas numbers that should fit you just fine."

 

Then he went to work.

 

* * *

 

Jack Phipps shifted the shoulder strap of the duffel he was carrying as he opened the van's side door. It wasn't heavy - scarcely more than a hundred pounds - but he didn't want to bang the bag against the vehicle's side. Jack took a good deal of pride in his work; his deliveries always arrived in pristine condition.

 

The duffel was carefully set on a padded area of the deck, then several bungees were used to secure it to the vehicle's ribs. That's how the damage happens, he thought, unsecured parcels bouncing around... French Freight Ltd didn't do business like that. The door was closed, and Jack climbed into the driver's seat. Before he started the engine however, he produced his cell phone. Time to check on the boss's nosy nieces...

 

The map display was a bit of a surprise. "They don't usually hang around Grafton," he muttered. And the car wasn't moving. He zoomed in, for a better look at the location. "That address looks familiar," he breathed uneasily as he tried to remember where he'd seen it. Then it came to him.

 

"Fuck."

 

For perhaps sixty seconds, Gilbert French's handyman pondered... options. Then he turned the key in the van's ignition.

 

Thirteen minutes later Jack's van rolled silently to a stop in the Grafton cul-de-sac. The man slipped out and approached the house carefully...

 

* * *

 

Barton Balthasar knelt on the floor and regarded the twin lying bound, gagged, and quite unconscious in the duffel. He smiled. "Twins," he murmured. "I should get a special bonus for this!" As he reached for the zipper he suddenly felt pressure at the sides of his neck. He started to turn, but everything went black before he could see the cause. 

 

Jack Phipps looked at form which lay crumpled at his feet. "Special bonus... Yeah, that was exactly what I had in mind, sonny."

 

Quickly, he checked Tuesday's and Wednesday's vital signs; satisfied that they were in no danger, he began searching. There was very little of interest until he checked the spare bedroom. When the sliding door to the closet was pushed to one side, he found two stacked pet carriers. Large pet carriers, like those used by the airlines.

 

"MMMMmmmfff!"

 

Phipps leaned in for a closer look. From the upper of the two containers, a girl - wearing only heavy leather cuffs and a very effective ball gag - looked back. "How interesting," he muttered. There was movement in the lower carrier, and another girl's face appeared. She was similarly restrained. "Well!" Jack nodded thoughtfully. "This complicates things rather."

 

More pleading grunts issued from both containers.

 

"You'd probably like to get out of those boxes, hmm?" he asked pleasantly. "I can't actually do that just this minute, because I'm on a tight schedule. But I can at least get you out of that stuffy closet." The carriers were pulled from their hiding place, and Jack considered the logistics. "You wait here," he told the two prisoners, "'til I come back!"

 

Balthasar's house was a split-level, with the garage - presently empty - located beneath the upper level. The garage door was opened, and the man hurried out to retrieve his van... which he backed inside. The garage door was then closed. Yeah it's pretty remote, Jack reflected, but it pays to be careful. Only then did he open the cargo door; it took less than five minutes to move the pet carriers into the vehicle and secure them.

 

Back in the house, he then proceeded to revive Gilbert French's nieces.

 

* * *

 

Tessa Rollins came to with a jolt, which immediately called her attention to her restrained state. Her annoyed curse came out as a muffled grunt. Only then did she spot the seated man watching her. Jack. Her eyes grew large. He rose, and stepped over to where she lay struggling. He crouched, and began unfastening the straps. "Hold still," he commanded, and she did. Then she heard muffled complaints coming from behind her. Finally the ball gag was unbuckled.

 

"What happened?" she cried as she sat upright.

 

Phipps handed her a rolled-up bundle of fabric. "Put your clothes on," he commanded, then stepped over to begin freeing Wednesday.

 

Embarrassed, the older twin hurriedly clothed herself as the process was repeated with her sister. Then, as Wendy began dressing, Tess repeated her question: "What happened? And... what are you doing here, Mister Phipps?"

 

"I might very well ask you the same question," the man answered. He didn't sound entirely pleased as he continued, "But let me guess. You clever girls decided to have a look inside the charming Mister Balthasar's house. Which would have been a bad idea even if you didn't get caught... but you did, and that made it an even worse idea..." He motioned toward the duffels and the recently-shed restraints, and added, "as you can see. You are both very lucky that I happened by."

 

Tessa's eyes narrowed. "Happened by? How convenient."

 

"I was making a delivery, up the street," Jack smiled grimly. "Came here to the end to turn around, and spotted your car. Couldn't think of any good reason for you two to be here. so I thought I'd better have a look."

 

Wednesday Rollins finished buttoning her shirt, and pointed to where Balthasar lay unmoving. "And what happened to him? Is he..."

 

"Dead?" the man completed the sentence for her. "Don't know for certain. But death is something that happens to all of us, sooner or later. I'll die someday, and so will you two. Hopefully far, far in the future, but I'd suggest you both give some thought to a profession... other than detective." He glanced over at Barton. "As for him, he seems to me like the sort of man who might journey to the Cities of Dust... sooner rather than later."

Turning, he regarded the sisters. "How do you feel? Are you able to drive?"

 

Tessa thought for a moment. "I feel fine... surprisingly. When I had my tonsils out I felt crappy for a whole day."

 

Jack Phipps nodded. "Yes. The stuff our... friend used has some... remarkable qualities."

 

"You're familiar with it then," Wednesday remarked. It was not a question.

 

"I acquired a lot of... unusual skills during my time in the services," the man replied with an enigmatic smile. "Follow me," he commanded, and led them out through the garage. Once in the open, he held up his cell phone and appeared to scan the area. "All clear," he said as he slipped the device into his pocket. "Go to your car and start the engine, but do not move until I'm finished with loose ends in here. That will take two minutes, perhaps three. Then I will follow you; I want to be absolutely certain you reach home without further... incident."

 

The twins started for the parked Toyota as the man turned and re-entered the house. He'd already made most of his preparations. The bags and restraints which had been used to secure Mister French's nieces were gathered up and thrown in the back of the van. Then he returned to the kitchen, where he'd left an oil-filled frying pan warming on the stove, and plenty of convenient combustibles in an overhead cabinet. The burner was turned to 'high', and moments later the van pulled out of the garage.

 

Barton Balthasar's kitchen was an inferno before the twins' car - and the van - reached the end of the street.

 

The little convoy did in fact reach the sisters' home in Northboro without incident. Jack climbed out of the van to speak to them. "If you breathe one word of what has happened today... to anybody," he said ominously, "I will know. You do not want that to happen."

 

The girls nodded in unison. "We get it, Mister Phipps. Our lips are sealed."

 

"Good," the man smiled a brittle smile. Then he turned and left.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, the fatal blaze was the top news story on every one of Worcester's radio and television stations. The Fire Marshall's office attributed the tragedy to kitchen carelessness. The homeowner was described as a single man, aged twenty-six, and he was the only victim.

 

 

Fifteen: Two Days Later…

 

Belinda Rollins was sorting the day's mail. Hearing the kitchen door slam, she called to her daughters, "Tess! Wendy! Come here please!"

The girls appeared in the doorway. "What's up, Mom?" the older twin asked.

 

The woman held out an envelope, which had already been opened. "This is the new insurance card for your car. Please put it in the glove compartment right away."

 

Wednesday Rollins accepted the envelope. "I got this," she grinned. "See you upstairs," she told her sister, then turned and hurried outside again.

Several minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Wendy - white as a sheet - stepped into the room they shared. "Tess?" she ventured, her voice trembling.

 

Her sister - noting the tone of voice - looked up immediately. "What's wrong?"

 

"I... I'm not sure," the younger girl replied. "Only... when I went to put the insurance thingie in the glove compartment? I found these." In her hand were a pair of small, square, flat gift boxes. She handed one of them to Tess, who read the elegant silver inscription... 'Tuesday'.

 

"And yours undoubtedly says 'Wednesday', she suggested. "Did you open it?"

 

"I was afraid to."

 

"Come on, we'll open them together," Tess said reassuringly. "It's probably just something Mom and Dad slipped in there months ago. How often do we poke around in the glove compartment?" 

 

"Not very often," Wendy admitted.

 

"One... two... three!" Tess laughed, and together they removed the lids of their respective boxes. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

 

Within each box lay a circular - but opened - narrow metal band. Curious, Tessa removed hers and inspected it. "Anklet?" she mused. "Not like the ones at the... church, though."

 

"Maybe," Wendy replied as she examined hers. "There's some kind of an inscription..." She looked at the trinket more closely. "This looks like a barcode... or something," she said nervously.

 

"Yeah," her sister agreed, "a barcode... and a funny kind of letter 'k'... Does yours have a paper underneath?"

 

"Uh huh," Wendy replied as she unfolded it. The blood drained from her face as she read:

 

'Go ahead, try it on. You know you want to.'