by Derek Haines
‘Well, for a short while per…,’ Feb started to say as a door that Feb had not noticed opened at the rear of the office.
‘Oh hello!’ the man said in surprise. ‘We have visitors Mr Sniddleydoop?’
‘Yes. May I present February. Oh I’m so sorry sir. I don’t know your full name to present you correctly,’ Singular said apologetically.
‘February Gregorian.’
‘Thank you sir. Yes, may I present Mr Gregorian, Mr Gregorian,’ Singular continued and seemed to miss the connection completely.
‘Very pleased to meet you Mr Gregorian,’ Gregorian said.
‘And you too,’ Feb replied. ‘I was hoping you might be able to assist me.’
‘The Cavern of Clavius?’ Gregorian answered immediately.
‘Why, eh, yes,’ Feb said, just a little flustered at the instantness of arriving at the topic.
‘Just a minute sir. It’s in my desk somewhere,’ Gregorian said as he started ferreting through the drawers of his desk and mumbling, ‘It must be here somewhere,’ a number of times. He punctuated his mumbling with mutterings of, ‘I’m sure I saw it only a couple of hundred years ago,’ and continued ferreting. After a little more ferreting, Gregorian seemed to have some success.
‘Oh, here it is! I knew it was here,’ as he handed Feb a small black box. Hardly bigger than Feb’s palm.
‘So this will help me find the Cavern?’ Feb asked.
‘Oh yes sir. So long as you are a true Gregorian.’
‘And if I’m not?’
‘Well, I would say you have wasted a very long journey sir.’
‘Thank you Mr Gregorian,’ Feb said. ‘Should I open it now?’
‘Oh no sir. Please take it with you. I can see already that it has started to flash blue, so you’re clearly a true Gregorian.’
‘Oh! Oh yes I see,’ Feb said as he looked at the little box sitting on his right palm. It was a familiar blue. Very similar to the throbbing, pulsating bright blue glowing thing at his investiture. ‘I’ll return it to you when I’ve finished.’
‘If you wish sir. That’ll be your decision.’
‘Right. Thank you,’ Feb said, unsure of what was meant.
Feb left the office and found April, Snurd and String chatting.
‘Come on then. No time to loiter,’ he smiled. ‘We have a Cribbler waiting.’
‘What’s a Cribbler?’ String asked.
‘You don’t want to walk do you String?’ Feb said as they passed though the exit door to find an odd vehicle waiting for them.
‘So that’s a Cribbler then?’
‘Yes String. Do you want to drive?’
A Cribbler was an ancient form of transport. It was yellow, sat on four round black things and had a strange, noisy power source hidden under a metal nose. It made a sort of blub, blub, blub sound. Entering the door, there was a driver’s seat with a strange round contraption in front of the seat and rows of red plastic seats two by two from front to back. There were a few signs inside the vehicle that made little sense to anyone.
‘Please alight from the rear door’, ‘Capacity 60’ and ‘Please do not disturb the bus driver’
‘I’ll show you how it works String,’ Feb said and Snurd asked if he could learn too. ‘I’ve been given brief instruction in how it works,’ Feb added.
April made herself comfortable on a reasonably clean red seat. After some basic instruction from Feb, String was ready to go. Snurd at the ready of course, to offer wise advice should String need it.
‘So? Where to Feb?’ String asked.
‘Follow the signs to TerraTunTun. Singular told me it was the nearest town. We might get some breakfast there.’
‘Right Feb!’ String said as he crunched a lever and the vehicle started to hop, hop, hop forward, nearly throwing April from her seat.
‘I think I’m getting it now!’ String shouted above the noise.
‘Good!’ Feb shouted back as he plopped into a seat next to April.
With a few more unsteady hops, String finally had the contraption moving forward. Slowly, but a little more smoothly. Feb took the black box from his pocket and studied it as April looked on.
‘What is it Feb?’ she asked.
‘I really don’t know April. It starts to turn blue when I hold it.’
‘There’s something on the side here,’ April said pointing to the back of the box.’
‘Oh yes. I see it,’ Feb said as he turned it in his hand. Looks like a little butto….,’ he said as he pushed it and the top conveniently popped open. ‘Oh look April. There’s something inside.’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Hold on,’ Feb said as he removed a small roll of cream inciphilite tied with a tiny blue ribbon. He slid the ribbon off carefully and the inciphilite unrolled. There were what seemed to be instructions written on it.
‘What does it say,’ April asked inquisitively.
‘Let me see here,’ Feb said as he started to read from the small sheet of inciphilite.
‘As a true Gregorian, you have the sworn responsibility to protect and preserve all that is Gregorian. Your Royal Gregorian blood was confirmed when you opened this ancient coffer. You must now learn more about your royal ancestry and how Gregorian rule is to be protected.
As a safeguard against any possible intrusion by impostors, you must first prove your Gregorian abilities and intellect by understanding the following instructions.
Proceed at will, and surely still,
To find the number on a hill,
The number that Gregorians know,
Is magically made by age, it’s so.
Two legs it seems, and round at end,
It is to there that you must wend.
A plot is but a tale to tell,
That is where you’ll find the bell.
To ring it once will not suffice,
It’ll only work by ringing thrice.
The master of the secrets be,
Awaiting for your want to plea,
For sages and the wisdom past,
The secrets that you need at last.
Go forth and find your place in time,
When you’ve solved this mystic rhyme.’
‘Do you have any idea what it means Feb?’ April asked.
‘No idea April. Clearly a puzzle for us to solve.’
Both April and Feb sat in silence re-reading and trying to decipher the rhyme, while String’s control of the Cribbler improved with a little help from Snurd’s incisive advice and observations. It took a little over thirty minutes along a dusty road that wound its way through what appeared to be a dry, dusty olive grey desert to arrive in TerraTunTun. A few ramshackle old buildings was all that TerraTunTun consisted of. It was lucky there was an old rusty sign saying ‘TerraTunTun’, or they may have missed it. String brought the vehicle to a halt, and hit a red button labeled ‘STOP’. It had the desired outcome as whatever was going blub, blub, blub under the nose in front stopped blubbing after a few last gasp blubs.
After walking a short distance, Snurd noticed a building with its front door open and a little light emanating from inside. He went inside and returned a minute later.
‘The old man in here says he can serve us breakfast,’ he said proudly but still lacking the intonation to make it sound like a wonderful discovery.
‘Well done Snurd,’ Feb said and they all followed Snurd back inside.
‘Hello there,’ a white bearded old man said with a toothless smile. ‘Sing called and said you’d be coming. I’m Multiply Sniddleydrump.’
‘Very nice to meet you Mr Sniddleydrump,’ Feb replied before introducing everyone else.
‘Oh please call me Multi. Everyone here does. Now. Are you hungry?’
‘That would be very kind….,’ Feb started to say.
‘Good. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll fix something,’ Multi said and trundled off somewhere.
April looked around and made the decision that the lone table with six wooden
chairs must be where Multi expected them to get comfortable. The rest agreed and followed.
‘So, do you know where this cavern is Feb?’ String asked.
‘Not exactly String. But we now have directions.’
‘Great!’
‘Not all that great yet String. I’ll read them out for you and Snurd, and maybe you can help,’ Feb said before taking the black box from his pocket, opening it and removing the inciphilite sheet. He read it out aloud twice after Snurd asked for a second reading.
‘Surely the number that all Gregorians know must be twelve,’ Snurd said.
‘Or thirty or thirty-one,’ String added.
‘You’re forgetting twenty-eight and twenty-nine,’ April chimed in.
‘But what do they have to do with age?’ Feb mulled.
‘Or two legs,’ April added.
‘Age,’ Feb repeated to himself.
‘Twenty-Two,’ April answered. ‘You were born in 213788.’
‘And you’re twenty-six April.’
‘Yes Feb. I was born in 213784.’
‘And father was born in?’
‘213741.’
‘And he’s sixty-nine, right.’
‘Yes, he would’ve been,’ April said and they both went a little quiet.
After a little silence, String broke it.
‘I don’t see any legs eleven in those numbers.’
No one responded to String’s remark as Multi arrived with plates of food. An odd purple and green mixture that resembled porridge accompanied by something that looked a little like pasta but with a more shiny, gooey plastic appearance.
‘Oh that looks wonderful,’ Snurd lied. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s a traditional TerraTunTun dish. It’s called Turdling Hurdles,’ Multi said proudly.
‘Well thank you very much for going to so much trouble,’ Feb said politely.
‘It smells wonderful,’ April lied through her teeth.
‘Wow. It tastes fantastic,’ String said as he tried a mouthful.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast then,’ Multi said and wandered off happily.
‘I’m not so sure about this,’ April said when Multi was out of earshot.
‘No, it’s really very good,’ String insisted as he gobbled into his plate of Turdling Hurdles.
Finally everyone started eating, but no one else with String’s level of enthusiasm.
‘I’ve just done a calculation, and I believe I may have found a common denominator,’ Snurd said between small mouthfuls.
‘Go on,’ Feb said.
‘Well. If you take the years of birth and arrange them in a column in order there is no commonality of course. Similarly with the ages. These arrive at varying answers whether divided, multiplied, added or subtracted. However if you isolate the years into an abbreviated version as we commonly use in a short date format, an interesting mathematical possibility arrives.’
As Snurd flatly explained his long and drawn out calculation, the rest half listened and continued to eat their Turdling Hurdles with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Although they were interested in Snurd’s theory, it hadn’t really reached a truly interesting stage as yet.
‘This possibility is bought about by the equalisation of double digit numbers that are the norm for age denomination. I’m not sure how it would work here on Terranova Two though as no one dies, but in our own estimations of age, two digits normally suffice. So, when you take these factors into account and reduce the year to an equivalent number of digits to the number of digits in the age, one can arrive at a simple addition formula where the resulting answers seem to be identically the same.’
‘I must have missed a bit,’ String said as he started to wipe his plate clean.
‘Well, to put it a little simpler for you String, you add the age to the year of birth.’
‘Hold on,’ Feb said. ‘Snurd, you’re a genius.’
‘Thank you,’ Snurd said proudly. ‘But I haven’t performed the addition equations yet sir.’
‘Alright. Go on,’ Feb said knowing what the answer was, but letting Snurd take full credit.
‘Age twenty-two plus year eighty-eight equals one hundred and ten. Age twenty-six plus year eighty-four equals one hundred and ten.’
‘I get it!’ String announced. ‘So the last one, forty-one plus sixty-nine is one hundred and ten too.’
‘Yes String.’ Snurd said.
‘I was right. Legs eleven!’
‘Yes. Two legs and round at the end,’ April added.
‘Well done,’ Feb said in a very pleased tone. ‘We’ll have this puzzle solved in no time with the collective brains we have at the table.’
Multi returned. ‘Enjoy your breakfast?’
‘Oh yes indeed. It was splendid,’ String said.
‘Very nice,’ April added. Lying again.
‘I’ll take your plates and bring you seconds shortly.’
‘That’s very kind of you Multi. We didn’t expect such hospitality,’ Feb said.
‘Oh no sir. The pleasure is mine. It’s so rare we receive guests nowadays.’
Once Multi had cleared the table, everyone went back to solving the next part of the rhyme.
‘A plot is but a tale to tell, that is where you’ll find the bell,’ Feb read out aloud.
‘Well the bell may be literal, but what’s a plot?’ April asked.
‘Isn’t it a story line or something?’ String asked.
‘Yes, or a navigational position possibly,’ Snurd said.
‘A plan?’ Feb added.
‘Or a graph showing the relation between two variables,’ Snurd suggested.
‘A conspiracy?’ April asked.
‘ A plot can also be a piece of ground I think,’ Feb tried.
‘Or place to be buried,’ Multi said with a laugh as he arrived with his offering of seconds and joined in the conversation. ‘TunTun Turnovers,’ he announced as he served small plates of something resembling seaweed floating in a blue substance that appeared to have once been a custard of some description. It had an aroma that was sweet – like sugared urine. No one except String looked happy with the offering.
‘Thank you again Multi. It looks very appetising,’ Feb said trying to be polite. ‘So you heard our dilemma about the word plot then?’
‘Yes. Is it a game?’
‘Yes. In a way. We’re trying to find as many meanings for the one word.’
‘Well around here it only means a place reserved for you. When you finally die.’
‘Oh, a cemetery plot.’ Feb said.
‘Yes sir. Not much use anymore around here though seeing as no one seems to die anymore.’
‘But there are plots?’
‘Oh yes sir. One for everyone of us. Up on the hill just outside of town. Can’t miss it. There’s a cemetery sign just as you leave town pointing the way.’
‘Thank you Multi,’ Feb said kindly.
‘Well? That was easy. Even found the hill bit,’ String said after Multiply had returned to wherever he came from. ‘Find plot one-hundred and ten in the cemetery up on the hill.’
‘I hope so,’ April started. ‘But somehow I think we may need to do more.’
‘I agree,’ Feb said.
‘But it is a start at least,’ Snurd concluded sensibly.
‘Yes Snurd. A start we’ll make after we finish our meal,’ Feb concluded.
After paying and thanking Multi for his kind hospitality, it was back to the Cribbler, String’s driving skills, and then off to find a very particular cemetery plot. In Feb’s mind, an as yet unused cemetery plot was highly unlikely to have a large glistening golden bell standing proudly above it just waiting for him to ring on his arrival. There was likely to be more of the puzzle ahead before he could find his cavern and answers. With a few preliminary blub, blub, blubs they were on their way out of town towards the cemetery. Only after a short distance from town, it was very fortunate that Snurd was gazing aimlessly out of his window and just
happened to notice a very old sign lying flat on the ground.
‘I think it’s here,’ he said and String slowed the Cribbler.
‘Where?’ April asked and Snurd pointed to half of a faded rusty sign on the ground, just off the road.
It read, ‘CEMET’, but was missing anything after the T.
‘Left here String,’ Feb called out.
Another short drive and they arrived at a walled area on what was a very small rise in the ground, complete with grand wrought iron gates. The two angels at the top of the gate gave a good clue that they had found what they were looking for. It was a rather poor excuse for a hill though.
‘I’ll see if I can open the gates,’ Feb said and got out of the Cribbler as it blubbed away happily. Although old, rusty and seemingly unopened in eons, Feb finally managed to open the gate with Snurd’s offer of assistance.
‘Do want me to drive in?’ String yelled out above the blubbing.
‘No, leave it there. I think it’ll be better if we walk,’ Feb yelled back and String silenced the blub, blub, blubs.
‘It’s empty!’ String exclaimed when he joined the others at the gates.
‘Clearly,’ Snurd confirmed.
‘There’s something here,’ Feb said as he led off. ‘Let’s start looking. April, you go with Snurd on the right and String and I will cover the left,’
They headed off in search of a mysterious plot that would hopefully pop out of the unmarked soil of the very empty cemetery.
‘It’s never been used,’ String said to Feb.
‘I’ve noticed. Not a single grave at all.’
‘And no numbers either,’ String said as he scanned the barren sand.
‘Anything?’ Feb called out to April. She shook her head.
After twenty minutes they had all reached the far wall with nothing of note found.
‘Well, let’s change sides and head back and see if we missed anything. But check the walls this time too,’ Feb said and they all trudged off again. Taking extra care on their second scan. Arriving at the gates again without finding anything.
‘There must be something we’ve missed,’ April said not wanting to give up.
‘But we checked every inch of the ground and walls,’ String said sounding very disappointed.
