The Moon City - Part 1

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    “How’s Matt doing with the door?” asked Shaun as he entered the room

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   “How’s Matt doing with the door?” asked Shaun as he entered the room.

      His younger brother was crouched in front of a spot on the wall where Lirenna’s sharp eyes had spotted a secret door, a few feet away from the steel door to the teleportation chamber that still remained stubbornly closed. The others were gathered around, anxiously watching him work while trying not to disturb him as he struggled to pick the lock which, fortunately, was a conventional, mechanical one and therefore theoretically amenable to a sufficiently skilled locksmith.

     It was proving particularly stubborn, though, resisting the young soldier’s every effort, and at the sound of his brother’s voice he shouted an obscene word and threw the twisted length of wire away in frustration. “Badly!” he said in fury. “It’s been so long since it was last unlocked that all the tumblers are stuck in place! Not only that, but it’s a six lever bastard! It’ll take more than a bloody length of wire to unlock it. What’s the point, anyway? It’ll only lead to more empty, dusty rooms and corridors. The only way home’s back through there.” He hooked a thumb at the steel door.

     “It’s better than just sitting here waiting to starve,” replied Jerry. “It’s something to do, something to take our minds off things.”

     “Besides, why would they bother to lock the door if there’s nothing behind it?” asked Thomas. “There must be something in there. Try kicking it in again.”

     “No point,” replied Shaun. “That door’s strong enough to withstand an army. The only way’s to pick the lock. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do, Matt?”

     “Not with wire,” replied Matthew. “I need a proper key, something I can put some real pressure on the levers with. I might be able to carve one out of a bit of ironwood, one of those crates you found in the other room. If I can break a bit off, carve it to the right shape… Trouble is, if it breaks in the lock, we’ll really be in a mess.”

     “Can you do that?” asked Thomas doubtfully. “How do you know what shape the key’s got to be?”

     “I could feel the positions of the levers with my bit of wire,” replied the young soldier. “That tells me the basic shape, and then I just have to keep sawing off bits until I get it right. Like I said, though, It’ll only need one little splinter to break off in the lock...”

     “Do it anyway,” said Shaun. “Like Jerry says, what have we got to lose?”

     “Alright, go get me a bit.”

     Shaun left the room, and they heard the sound of muscular straining coming from the storeroom, followed by a loud cracking noise. The woodsman returned with a small, jagged piece of ironwood in his hand, the freshly exposed wood a lighter shade of blue. “Still strong,” he confirmed as he handed it over. “This about the right size?”

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