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Thursday, January 19, 2012

The Tower of Trials Chapter 8 Page 3

George forced on a brighter expression. "It was exciting." When he was not in fear of his life.

Papa picked up the damaged coat that George had worn during his adventure from the hook next to the entrance. He held it up. Most of the front had been shot off. The sleeves had holes on them. "Hah, looks like you had a good taste of fun too. Better not show this to..."- he turned the coat around and saw the logo at the back -"My coat!"

George glanced up at his father. Why was Papa upset about an old coat?

"My precious coat," Papa whispered.

"Sorry," George said, "Found it in storage. Didn't think you still needed it."

"If Mama sees this..." Papa rolled up the coat and glanced back at the entrance. "I've got to get rid of this." He turned back to his son. "You've work tomorrow. Get some sleep." Then he spun on a foot towards the door.

"Okay. Almost got this." George returned to his work. More than likely Papa was going to ask lots of questions about his adventure the next day. Maybe he would find out more about the coat.

Papa grunted and left.

A little later, George had the motor working with power supplied from the transformer. The door of the box slid open. His first guess at the correct amount of power had been right. Maybe he would get lucky with the content too.

He took out the only item in the box. It was a strange symbol smaller than his palm. It was made of a blue glossy opaque stone, a material he was not familiar with. He was not familiar with the shape. It did not look like any creature or object he knew of. It did not appear to be randomly designed either. Maybe it was a symbol in some long forgotten language.

He held the symbol up to Tillie. "What do you think?"

Tillie merely stared at the object with its single camera-eye. It had not been programmed to offer opinions either. But it definitely did not identify the symbol as a tool to be returned.

Still, the symbol looked pretty and mysterious, a reminder of the hidden secrets of the wastes.

George packed the transformer. "Put that back," he told the robot.

Tillie picked up the boxy object with both arms. It rode a rail down the side of the workbench and went to replace the piece of equipment in the cupboard.

George cut a length of black cord and looped it through one of the holes at the edge of the blue stone. He tied the stone around his neck. Then he examined his reflection on a small mirror. The accessory looked good on him. Yes, it was the perfect reminder of his first trip to the wastes.

After checking that Tillie had returned all the tools, George left the little robot in its recharge socket. Then he shut off the lights and went to bed.

He should probably get a proper chain for his new necklace later.

The night's dream would be filled with thoughts of his adventure, reliving again the excitement and savoring the experience. Perhaps he would visit the wasteland again some day.

***

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