Maria and Zach both stood off at a distance with crossed arms.
“How is this a present?!” Zach barked.
Maria remained inscrutable. “Then, should I call the police?”
“You haven’t yet?”
She shrugged. “With you, I never know.” She pivoted on her back heel and veered out of the room.
Zach continued to gaze at the log of unknown wood. Careful to not disturb the attached note, he read:
Mr. Smith,
Thank you for your past assistance in that personal matter one year ago, today.
Here is a gift, which may be of assistance in your current matter.
Sincerely,
A Past Customer
Zach made a stink face as he photographed the note. Let’s see, a year ago from today… It was currently May. What was he doing last May? He would need to check his calendars. Waving over to the mailwoman in charge of the department, he called out, “I need to check something. Will you make sure that no one touches anything in the meantime?”
“Sure. But is it ok to send a pic out? I have got to tell someone about this, or I’m gonna burst.”
“Um, okay.”
The middle-aged woman gave a cheer, “Yes!” and proceeded to pull out her phone.
Not sure if he should be regretting giving permission or not, he hurried back to his office. The pile Maria had left behind had shrunk a bit, but otherwise the room was the same as this morning. Logging back on to his computer, he pulled up both his professional and personal calendars.
Yep, at this time last year, he and his siblings were visiting his parents for their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. He was not on the clock whatsoever. Let’s see, what about the cases around that time…
There was one case regarding the inheritance of a decoy goose. The executor of the estate in question suspected that the item contained a golden egg, or so to speak, which it did not. The contesting daughters really were just hunting enthusiasts. That executor did not appreciate being told to ‘reassess his presumptions about others’ and tried to report Zach to his boss, which also didn’t go over well.
One does not bring petty grievances to Maria.
A second case involved cataloguing paraphernalia found in a newly purchased house. While doing renovations, the new owner found some books tucked away in a closet and wanted them analyzed. Zach had them dated and sent over to an expert in late Sanskrit, as the writing most closely resembled what was found in one of the books. The others contained twentieth century British children’s tales and thus were easier to evaluate. He had received a notice that the case was closed three months after his trip to his parents, but the note didn’t give any additional information. That case was the most likely to be relevant here.
The last case was one that was still ongoing. About two years ago, the same geologist that was currently on a ship in the Pacific, was given a case regarding a potential meteorite. Usually, such cases are closed with a conclusion that the rock is not a meteorite, but this case could not be closed so easily. The item was, indeed, not a meteorite, but contained a high enough concentration of Europium to require reporting. The client was oddly reassured by this, but then refused to mention where he got it, saying that he couldn’t remember. Zach was sent to meet with the client more than once to determine more about the sample, but the client refused to show at every meeting. The company was still being paid to continue pursuing the case.
And finally, there were fourth and fifth options that have nothing to do with the documented cases of the time. The fourth being that the log was connected to something undocumented on his end, which is also likely to be relevant here, and the fifth being that this has nothing to do with any cases, whatsoever. According to past experiences, though, this was no mere farce. It was just too weird.
Zach let his head fall into his hands, sighing. “I wanna go home!” Unfortunately, he was going to have to wait for the police to finish their investigation.
The police arrived about a half hour later. It had taken some convincing that the call was not a prank, but very legitimate and that there was an actual log of wood involved.
Maria escorted the officers into the mailroom, where the mailroom head and Zach awaited.
The first officer stopped in his tracks in the doorway, resulting in the second one running into the first.
“It really is a log of wood!”
“Yes,” Maria assured, “and we don’t know where or why or how it got here.”
“Actually,” the mailroom head interjected, “it came in as a normal delivery. But it’s missing a return address. The delivery guy had no idea where the thing was mailed from.”
The second officer had managed to get into the room by this time and was kneeling down by the item for a closer inspection.
Maria nodded. “Okay, so we know a bit of how, but not entirely. Zach, anything on your end?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I have no idea.”
“Nothing?”
“I was out of town on vacation at this time last year. There were some strange aspects to a couple cases around last year, but nothing that could be tied to a literal log of wood.”
“Aren’t your cases often on the strange side?”
He shrugged.
The second officer took a photo of the note. “What about current ‘cases’?”
“I only have two active cases at the moment. One is…very routine. Not something that I would need assistance with. The other I only just started this morning.”
“Is the second one difficult?”
“Remains to be seen,” was the pat answer.
Maria chimed in with a question of her own. “What about non-active cases?”
Zach paused and thought for a moment. “I have two inactive cases, marginally involved with a third and, uh, one pending.”
“Pending?” the officer repeated.
“That means the case is in the negotiation stage,” Maria added.
“Ah.” The second officer stood up for a moment, thinking. “I take it that you can’t just show me the names of your customers?”
“No. Far too many NDAs involved.”
Zach bit his lip. There were times when NDAs were annoying, but at the moment, he was very grateful to not have to explain that the pending case involved a marshmallow stick model.
“Got it,” the officer grunted. After taking another pause, he sighed. “Well, we can take the log and analyze what we can…possibly attempt a trace on where this thing was mailed from… or what forest it’s from…” His voice trailed into a soft mutter a bit more before he took a deep breath and righted himself. “Do you mind if we take the log?”
Maria looked to Zach, who nodded. “By all means.”
With gloved hands, the first officer placed the wood in a clear box. Maria then escorted the officers out. Upon returning, Zach and the mailroom head looked to her expectantly.
Maria threw up her hands. “I’m going home!” She then spun on her heels and marched right out.
Zach gave a cheer. “Finally!” And then he raced out of the building and home before anyone could slow him down.
The next day, Zach was twiddling his thumbs trying to find a way to put off the committee paperwork before attempting to tackle it again. The marshmallow stick model guy had not responded since yesterday, so the investigator had neither the approval nor pay to continue that fool’s errand. There was no update yet on either the stone tablet or the log. His mug was empty, but a third cup of coffee would be way past his morning caffeine tolerance.
Grumbling, he reached out to the topmost file in the pile. The file was labeled as ‘Field work safety updates,’ and was thick and lumpy with paper reports and usb drives. “‘Safety.’” Curious, he peered over to the next file. “‘Lab safety upgrades.’” Oh, no… He picked up that file and read the title on the one below. “‘Combining WHMIS and OSHA documentation’? Maria, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?!”
He let the two files slide from his hands to fall onto the desk. Then he let his head fall to the desk with a thud. One of the jobs of the interdisciplinary department was to establish company-wide protocols, as they required access to all of the company’s resources.
And his job to was convince a committee that those protocols were complete and lawful…and he had to smooth over the occasional ego on the committee, usually someone lacking in background and insecure about it…and he would have to document the whole process, egos and all, in the politest wording he could muster…and now he wanted a whiskey.
Knock-knock.
Zach jolted his head up. “Come in!”
The door opened partway. “Any unviewables?”
“No, now get in here!”
“Okay, okay!” The door swung in revealing Zach’s old colleague, Mac, “Do you have a minute or hour?”
“I have all the minutes. Please, sit!”
He looked intriguingly at the pile of folders.
“Committee shmoozing.”
“Oh! That sucks.” He pulled out the spare chair hidden behind the door and sat down. “I have a conundrum.”
“Okay.”
Mac sat silent
“And?”
He leaned back in the chair, before finally starting. “I have this … old collaborator. Weird lady. Wrote her dissertation in Latin. Last I checked, she was studying variations in Ogham somewhere in Ireland. Suddenly she emails me out of the blue, saying that she’s got some ‘sample’ or other where she is in the south Pacific. Why she’s there, I haven’t the foggiest.”
Where is this going?
“Anyway, she says that the sample may have recursive sentence structure but isn’t writing in the typical sense. But she doesn’t have the materials on hand to better determine its origin and whether it’s a prank or real.”
“Really? She’s not sure if it’s a prank or not?”
“It’s harder than you think. When you look at puns or other forms of humor, the lines get blurred.”
“Uhh…”
“And if you look at how vocabulary can be lost and reintroduced – ”
“In plain English?”
Mac glared at him.
Zach raised his hands in surrender. “Right. There is no such thing as plain English. Got it.”
With a grunt he summarized. “She can’t move the sample, but she wants to get it dated and such … and quietly.”
“Oh!”
“Got any ideas?”
“Well dating takes bringing a sample to a lab. Can she get a chunk of it and send it here?”
“Hm. I got the impression that she could not.”
“Did she send any pictures?”
“No. She’s being secretive, which might be why she contacted me, now that I think about it.”
“Too secretive to let someone like me have a look?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“And, the biggie. Is she paying?”
“I’m waiting for a response on that, but I’m assuming yes. I’m a bit concerned about how she will pay, though. Research dollars are heavily scrutinized. There’s no way she would use that without some massive paperwork and delay. Otherwise, she’s a professor. She will likely have the needed funds, but it will hurt.”
Zach tapped his finger on the one bare part of the desk. “Let me check my schedule.” He turned towards the computer. “And to do a cost estimate. The travel part alone is going to be high.”
Mac nodded in agreement.
Over the course of the next hour, Zach threw together the initial cost for a week’s work, plus travel, but still needed to determine what dating facilities would be available. Meanwhile, Mac received an update from his colleague, a Dr. Mystique Samuel, who approved a budget slightly higher than what Zach had estimated.
“Mystique?”
“Yep.” He handed over his phone, the email thread in full view.
He scrolled through the various messages. “Well, the estimate she sent is surprisingly accurate.”
“Yes, that has me even more concerned.”
“Why?”
“It means that she could be using research dollars for this.”
“And that’s bad?”
“No…Perhaps a better way of putting it is to say that I’m both concerned and now immensely curious about what she has on her hands.”
Mystique’s messages showed a blatant jargon similar to what Mac used on a daily basis alternating with a delicate, vague wording.
Sentence structure cannot be determined as SVO or SOV…Sample cannot be moved or disturbed due to environment nuance…Possible layering that could be evidence of recursion…Certain details need to be found before determining conversation direction…
It was as though she couldn’t tell which tone to use.
Nonetheless, the messages contained the necessary information to start a client file. All that was left to turn the case to active was to inform his boss and gain approval. With that, he could start right away and board a plane in two days.
Maria, however, had other priorities.
“No, your first committee meeting is next week. You can go after that!”
Groan.