Chapter Twenty-Seven

While everyone was home for the holidays, a couple of the dormitories flooded, but the only one the janitor couldn't get to was Aldrich, because the basement had been locked. So shortly after Melody and her friends returned from their very eventful Christmas break, Melody herself couldn't help but notice the janitor disappearing from view. She'd never been to this part of the dorm before. Peering down the stairs with her curious eyes, she saw him using a pair of bolt cutters on a rusty old padlock. There was a humming noise as he switched on all the lights, but she couldn't see much from her vantage point. Nevertheless, her curiosity was piqued.
"Chester," Melody said, tapping him on the shoulder, "do you know anything about a secret basement, here in the dorm?"
Chester turned away from his programming project, peering at her through the thick lenses of his glasses. "Secret basement? he asked, shaking his head. "No, not really, why do you ask?"
"Well, I think I might have found one," she replied, "but I need your help with the lock."
Chester grinned. "Picking locks is my specialty," he said, pulling open his desk drawer and bringing out a small tin box.
"I thought it was computers," retorted Melody, pointing at the screen of text.
Chester shot back, "Aha, you're not the only multi faceted one here," which forced a wry smile out of Melody. "Okay, boss, just tell me where it is and I'll see what I can do."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, where a bright shiny new padlock was in place. After a quick inspection, Chester opened the tin box and brought out a tiny little pick. "Can you pick it?" Melody asked, waiting nervously.
"It's a standard hard steel combination padlock," Chester replied, "easy as pie, nothing to it at all."
The busy sounds of dorm life above them seemed muffled as the two co-conspirators set to work on this padlock. Melody's heart leapt as the padlock snapped open, echoing in the narrow vestibule. She was certain that someone had heard and she held her breath. But no one appeared at the top of the stairs.
With a loud groan, the door swung open. Feeling for a light switch, Chester groped around in the dark. "Damn," he muttered, "I wish I'd have brought a torch now." His fingers finally found the switch and he snapped it on.
The whole room flooded with light as Melody and Chester gasped. Dusty and draped with cobwebs, their eyes feasted on a disused laboratory.
While Melody straightened up around the place, Chester tinkered with the equipment. "Look at this stuff!" he exclaimed. "There's a veritable pharmacy down here. A medicine making apparatus, a chocolate making machine, and god knows what else."
As Melody brushed away a thick layer of dust, she came across a file. The leaves were brittle and yellowing, but what intrigued her were the carefully handwritten notes inside. Someone had taken a lot of care and attention, jotting down every minute detail, supported by beautiful handwritten sketches. Her heart gave a jolt as she skimmed the first page and saw the elegant signature on the bottom -- Victor Alexander Goth.
From her textbooks, she knew exactly who he'd been -- the founder of a lengthy line of Goth scientists, the most prominent brains in all of Sim Nation.
Apparently, on reading these notes, Victor Goth had been working on a secret project. He'd unsuccessfully attempted to splice the DNA of a bovine and assimilate it into the cell structure of many plants. Every attempt was a failure -- until he discovered one plant that was compatible, the Venus flytrap.
They could not believe such an enormous secret had been hidden in the basement right below them. Here were the origins of the ubiquitous and infamous cow plant. "Hey," suggested Melody, "maybe we could use these instructions to try to grow one ourselves."
"I'm game," replied Chester, grinning, "and then we can report the results of our experiments to Dr. Straight, the biology dean."
Melody shook her head. "Maybe we don't need to tell Dr. Straight about this -- not yet. Not until we're done."
Chester pulled Melody closer. "Not a word of this to anyone, Melody Tinker, you understand?"
Melody laughed softly, careful not to let anyone hear her. "I know how to keep secrets, Chester Gieke," she said deviously, with a twinkle in her eye as she walked away from him. "Do you?"
Chester shook his head in disbelief. "Dang -- that close."
Meanwhile, back in Bluewater Village, two employees were in the Tinkers' toy shop -- one was making jack-in-the-boxes while the other was at the register -- when Wanda spotted a woman wearing a low-cut red dress heading toward the shed. What's she doing wanting to buy a toy? Wanda wondered, peering outside through a window.
Trying to put this out of her mind, Wanda hurriedly called the local childcare service, told them she wanted someone to keep an eye on Harmony while she tended to business in the shop.
As soon as the elderly woman arrived, Wanda ran as fast as she could to the shed, only to discover the suspicious-looking woman in the red dress was searching around. "May I help you?" Wanda asked in her sweetest voice.
"Yes," Elise Livingston asked, "I was actually looking for your twirl, spin, and wobbles."
Wanda smiled. "Well, my employees are making some now, and as soon as they're done, I'll have them put them out on the shelf."
"Thank you," Elise said as she whipped out her notepad.
Wanda thought about it. What is she doing with a notepad? she wondered. She narrowed her eyes at this brazen woman. But she kept a fixed smile on her face, hoping this was enough to mask her suspicions. "We can preorder one for you if you wish," she said, gently guiding Elise out of the workshop. "Can I take your name and address?"
Elise stiffened slightly. Wanda realized she could be rumbled at any time, so she had to think fast on her feet, as did Elise. "Oh, don't worry," Wanda assured her, "it's standard procedure. We do that to everybody."
While Wanda pretended to search for a pen and a slip of paper, Elise had a chance to scan the rest of the shop. At the far end of the building was a door. Elise assumed it was an office. If she could distract Wanda long enough, she could sneak in there.
But Wanda was sharp. Within minutes she'd located a pen and a notepad and looked hopefully at Elise. "Now, then, what's your first name?" she asked.
Elise promptly gave Wanda a fake name and address and left the toy shop empty handed.
After Wanda closed the shop that night, she decided to use the home computer. Luckily for her, those computer classes she'd been taking had come in handy as she checked out the name and address Elise had given her.
She picked up the phone and dialed Florence's number. "Hi Wanda," Florence said, her soft voice soothing to Wanda's ears, "what's on your mind?"
It was eerie, the connection between them. Florence always seemed to know when something was wrong.
"I had a strange woman come into the shop today," said Wanda, fixing the collar on her sweater. She proceeded to give Florence a fairly accurate description of Elise.
Florence smiled. "That's Elise Livingston, the local snoop," she replied. "She's paid to check out all the businesses in the area."
"Oh," Wanda said, not quite letting go of her suspicions.
Continued Florence, "And she's been spotted coming out of Malcolm Landgraab's mansion."
Wanda's heart skipped a beat. "How do you know?" she breathed.
"I saw them myself while I was tending to my nursery." Florence's voice became more urgent. "I think you've got to be super careful. If this Elise character is tied to Malcolm Landgraab as I suspect, you and Melody could be in a world of hurt."
A chill ran down Wanda's spine at Florence's last words.
Dr. Joseph Young, dean of the mathematics department at Le Tour, approached Chester as he was walking from his class. "We're trying to put together a math team for the annual William Lloyd Wright Math Competition."
Chester was befuddled. "What's that?"
"It's an annual national collegiate mathematics competition, where students from all over compete for cash prizes and notoriety. There are individual and team competitions. We used to win these contests a lot in the past. We've had a lot of turnover on our math teams recently, and we'd like to establish some continuity."
"What are you trying to say?"
"What I'm trying to say, Chester, is I'd like you to captain our math team this year."
Chester was stunned. "But Dr. Young -- I'm a physics major."
"Yes I know this, Gieke. But you're a good student and I've chosen you as our captain. I'm sure you'll do a good job putting together a team. Now you need two others to fill out your team."
Chester gave Dr. Young a sly grin. He knew just who to ask.
Melody, Edwin, and Marla were eating macaroni and cheese in the dorm cafeteria when they got involved in a spirited political discussion. "The Simocrats are now in control of Congress," began Melody. "I can't say I'm sure how I feel about that."
"Well, it probably means some of the legislation that's been pushed back by the Simpublicans may finally go through."
"I'm not so sure about that, either, Edwin," replied Melody. "The Simocrats filibuster as much as the Simpublicans do. It's a fact of life."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true. I guess it's a lesser of two evils kind of thing."
Marla, who'd been listening, and waiting patiently for her turn to talk, finally did. She volunteered that she'd been raised in a conservative, Simpublican farm household.
"My parents weren't very political, they could care less about politics," Melody added, "but I was. I read up on everything, including about the presidents and their policies."
"You too?" said Edwin. "I had committed the names, birthdates, death dates, and important milestones of each president to memory."
Just then Chester came in from his night class. He had been spending most of his time recently at the dorm, even though he had an apartment on campus. "Dr. Young talked to me today," Chester announced, "and he's made me captain of Le Tour's math team."
"Really?" asked Marla. "Wow, that's great! What an honor, congratulations."
Grinning, Chester shook his head. "Dr. Young wants me to put together a team for the Will Lloyd Wright math competition."
"I've heard of that," Edwin said. "Bunch of college kids have to solve problems."
Chester nodded. "You sound interested already, Edwin."
"Well, I was on my high school's math team. I think I can do it." Edwin then looked at Melody pleadingly. "You're real good at math."
Chester agreed with a nod.
Melody tried to laugh it off. "Guys, I'm flattered, but -- I've got a lot on my plate right now."
"It's not like the math team is going to need you 24-7, Mel," laughed Chester. "We all have tough schedules. The math team is only going to assemble once a week with Dr. Young for practice, and then we'll get ready for the competition, which is in March."
"It sounds interesting," Melody decided, "but I'm not sure if I want to be answering math questions in front of an audience."
Chester had a reassuring tone in his voice. "Well, not every question will be answered in front of an audience, as I understand it. The way Dr. Young explained it to me, there's a written individual examination and the group oral competition."
"Well hopefully I can clear up this crap with the DNA test --"
Chester's eyes popped open. "You asked Dr. Hyden for a DNA test?"
"Yeah. And it seems like he's -- I don't know -- he's really avoiding it for some reason."
Chester decided to change the subject. "Now, about the math team --"
"Well," Melody decided, "since it's in March and hopefully I can get everything straight by then -- I'll do it."
Loud applause rang from the table, followed by hugs and high-fives all around.
A heavy thunderstorm parked itself seemingly right over Academie Le Tour. With frequent lightning and heavy rain, it was the kind of evening most people spent reading or in bed. Marla had done just that -- she hit the sack just after 9 pm, saying she was tired. Edwin did the same about an hour later, which left Melody and Chester milling around Aldrich -- and that could mean only one thing these days.
Melody approached Chester while he was at the pool table bilking money out of a couple of random dormie guys. "Say, it's a dark and stormy night," she whispered, leaning toward his ear, to the astonished glances of her dorm mates. "Let's go downstairs." Chester knew exactly what she meant -- the secret laboratory they'd discovered in the basement of Aldrich Dormitory. Dark and stormy nights were Melody's passion. As a girl she'd run outside on the few summer evenings it rained in eternally sunny Bluewater Village. "Melody!" her mother would cry, "you'll catch your death out there!"
But Melody paid her no mind. Outside she ran, often barefoot, with the faint hope that one day a lightning bolt would strike her. She'd even taken one of her father's kites outside in hopes of replicating the Benjamin Franklin kite experiment.
Wanda shook her head as Melody would return to the house, drenched and cold but worst of all dejected that she didn't get struck. "My dear child," she would say as she took her to get changed and dried. "Why do you do these things?"
Melody and Chester had this unspoken language. Their bond was so complete and so true, they finished each other's thoughts and knew what the other was saying before they even said it.
Chester knew Melody by now -- perhaps better than anyone else, even her mother. He understood her highs and lows, and that when she got interested in something, it wasn't an interest -- it was an obsession.
Chester followed Melody down to the basement like a little puppy dog following its master. The month they'd spent together in Bluewater, with the toy shop and the Tinker family, only strengthened their bond. To tell the truth, he was captivated by every fiber of her being. Her intelligence, her beauty, her inner strength, her quirkiness and obsessive traits -- all deeply appealed to him and his personal sense of partnership. They were two peas in a pod. They could go far, just the two of them. With their high intelligence anything was possible. The world, according to Chester Gieke and Melody Tinker, was quite literally their oyster. In his quest to find the female form, the perfect one in his eyes was right in front of him.
But he knew -- and understood -- his limits. Even if Melody were, in point of fact, the girl of his dreams and fantasies, he believed didn't stand a chance with her -- and there was no way he was ruining his deep friendship with her to take a chance at love.
They got to the basement, where another clap of thunder jolted the equipment but not the fearless pair -- in fact, it seemed to energize them. Sifting through the folder where she'd found Victor Goth's instructions, she walked to one of the beakers and began to read through it. "Okay, so what do we do first?" Chester asked.
Melody grinned. She may have been uncomfortable in the toy store, but here she was in her element. At her core she was a scientist, and she knew it. Even when she was Darren Dreamer's apprentice he used to gently chide her about her scientific approach to art. "Well, here are the DNA charts of the bovine and the Venus flytrap plant."
"Excellent, excellent." As he read the numbers aloud to Melody, she typed them into the computer, where a graphic of a DNA molecule came up. Little did anyone know it except Chester, but Melody was truly cutting her scientific teeth right here, right now. She liked to challenge herself, push herself to her mental limits. Her coursework was not enough for her inquisitive mind. She was always seeking to learn more -- about everything.
Chester realized while he was working with her -- that he was captivated by every fiber of her being. He knew, better than anyone, that she pushed herself far harder than she pushed anyone else or anyone else pushed her.
After they mixed up the DNA, Chester wondered what was next. "Well, I think the seeds have to harden before we can plant them."
Chester let out a deep guttural yawn. "I'm getting sleepy," he said. "I'm going to bed. G'night, see ya tomorrow." He crashed on the dorm sofa on the first floor.
Meanwhile Melody turned out all the lights in the lab and went all the way up to the balcony to stargaze. One of the dormies marveled at her stamina. "Do you ever get tired?" he asked.
"Tired?" Melody asked. "I haven't got time to be tired. It just isn't in my vocabulary."
Malcolm Landgraab was resting comfortably in his mansion when the doorbell rang. "Ah, Elise," he said, greeting her with an affectionate hug. "I trust you've been to the Tinkers?"
"Yes, Malcolm, and they're being particularly evasive about what's going on there."
"Did you see little miss Melody?" Malcolm asked, the evil tone of his voice frighteningly evident.
"No, but I saw her mother. She kept me out of the shop."
Malcolm shook his head. "I wonder what they're hiding over there."