Dorian's Grayl SFSD #4 Round II

APPLE is not a computer

“Solve it!” Teabing roared as he pointed a gun at Dorian’s head.

The second they had entered Isaac Newton’s tomb he had knocked Sophie unconscious with a single blow to the back of the head.  Dorian felt a pang of guilt, it was his portrait they were after, he was the ‘Grayl’ though he knew full well that the abomination of a painting would not grant eternal youth as they believed it would.

“I can’t,” Dorian cried, “I don't know the code!”

Teabing began to pace back and forth across the tomb, his patience was wearing thin.  How could the best decipherer of all time not be able to crack the codex?

“Sir Teabing? Please...”

“What?” Teabing snapped, turning to face Dorian.

Dorian’s brain had been running on overdrive ever since they touched down.  His mind connecting the dots between the trees on the first Keystone and the statue of Newton staring at his feet.  Staring at an apple.  Such a mundane thing, but so out of place.  Dorian prayed he was correct.

“Please check on Sophie, she’s bleeding...” he made a move towards Sophie’s prone form.

“Don’t move, just think.   I’ll check on her.”

As soon as Teabing’s back was turned, Dorian turned the dials on the tiny cryptex until they spelled out ‘APPLE’.  The cryptex silently snapped open and Dorian emptied another piece of papyrus into his palm, pocketing it within his trousers before closing the cryptex and spinning the dial back to it’s original sequence.

“She’s fine,” Teabing announced, unfolding himself from the floor beside Sophie.  “Do you have the code?”

“Isaac, it’s Isaac.”

A siren sounded overhead, accompanied by a voice.  “Drop your weapons,” it commanded, “You are surrounded.”

“Shit, it’s Fache,”  Teabing grabbed the cryptex unceremoniously from Dorian, frantically turning the dials.  The cylinder hissed and began to bubble in his hands before disintegrating entirely, dripping uselessly through his fingers.

“Damn you Dorian Gra-” Teabing’s mouth snapped closed as Fache and his team of Droids entered the tomb.  It soon became clear to Dorian that they were certainly not using Neuro-stunners as red laser lines appeared all over his body.  “Oh!” he exclaimed in surprise, looking down at himself before his arms fell from his shoulders and his body toppled into a pile of limbs, swiftly followed by his head.

“Clean this shit up,” Fache commanded before moving swiftly to Sophie’s side.  Dorian joined him in time to see her eyelids flutter as she began to regain consciousness. “Congratulations Ms. Neuveu.  It seems that you and Mr. Gray have solved your Grandfather’s murder,” said Fache kindly, wiping a spot of blood from her forehead.

“The cryptex?” she asked weakly, staring at Gray who swiftly realigned his features into a sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry Sophie, but it’s gone.  He entered the wrong code,” said Dorian whilst wearing a faux-grim smile.

“The code...” she whispered, “...The code was ‘APPLE’... I was... stupid... you said he was too...” she coughed, “cheerful...”

“It’s okay Sophie,” Dorian soothed.  “Your Grandfather was a clever man, there will be other clues.” Helping her into a sitting position, Dorian gave her a stern look before examining himself.  “Can I ask you a question Sophie?”

“Of course,” she winced as she rubbed her head where Teabing had struck her.

“Do you think I should lose the waistcoat?”

“I think you should burn it. Because if you lose it, you might find it again,” she chuckled.  “It’s horrendous, I think Tim put it there as a joke to be honest.”

Dorian nodded.  “Fache?” He said as he removed the exceptionally loud item of clothing, “May I please borrow your gun?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Fache replied as he handed over his weapon.

Dorian dropped the offending piece of Nylex over what remained of Teabing before carefully aiming Fache’s weapon and melting both waistcoat and traitor into a pile of plasticy Nylex goo.

“Ta mate,” grinned Fache, “He’ll be nice and easy to scoop up, all melded together like that.”

“Glad to be of service,” replied Dorian, “Now then, I believe you have an injured cryptographer to attend to?”

“Indeed,” said Fache as he completely ignored Sophie’s protests that she was, in fact, fine and it was just a little bump on the head.  Her protests continued all the way into Fache’s ship, which she was loaded onto by way of what Fache referred to as ‘Medic-Droids’.  The remaining Droids produced a couple of shovels and a bin bag, scooping up what was left of Teabing and the waistcoat before they too boarded the craft.

“Tell me Dorian, what will you do now?” Fache asked with a hint of concern.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Dorian.  Cheerfully.  “I think I may have a bank account which should have matured nicely.”

“Well...” Fache mused, “I suppose you’ll be alright, but just in case, consider Teabing’s craft yours.  He shouldn’t have even been in possession of it, it contains stolen technology.”

Dorian pasted a concerned look upon his face, “Stolen?” he whispered,

Fache looked around the tomb to ensure that they were indeed, alone.  “Teabing always maintained that his craft was a BA military prototype.  It isn’t.” Fache removed his policemans helmet, allowing his dreadlocks to fall freely about his shoulders,

“My name isn’t Fache, it’s Dan.  I’ve been hunting this bastard for god knows how long.  His craft is actually a prolonged-life escape pod from my ship; the Reaper.  My Master in command Angus commanded me to track it down.  Now I have.”

Dorian stared at Fache/Dan as he pressed a finger to his ear, “Bring me back Trixi.” As he began to dematerialize, Gray swore he heard him say “See you soon, mate.”

* * * * * *

Gray sat aboard the mini Reaper, mulling over the final message contained within the cryptex as he finished off the last of the Hob-Nobs.

“All this way, and it was there all along,” he said.  Cheerfully.  “The Grayl is buried beneath the small pyramid directly below the inverted glass pyramid of the Louvre.  Well I never.”

And with that, Dorian produced a lighter and proceed to burn the papyrus to dust.  He would not be found, not ever.