The Millennial Box, Julie Steimle [classic books for 12 year olds .txt] 📗

did not open.

"I told you, you filthy flea ridden rat Tarrn lover! I told you, you couldn't - "

"Shut him up or I will!" Jeff snapped at the agents at Dr. Simpson's side, turning the box around.

Steele marched over to Dr. Simpson and placed his over large hand over the man's mouth.

"Try playing the next bar," Zormna offered.

Jeff winced. "I don't remember the rest."

Zormna frowned. She took a breath and punched in the next line, though not as quickly as Jeff did. More keys settled down. She pushed in the line after that and soon all the keys rested into place and lay flat. Her medallion popped out of the other side of the box so that all the surfaces were flat once again. They could hear the muffled mocking coming from Dr. Simpson, but they were short lived.

The box opened.

 

[1] Find them and bring them here!

[2] Why don't we let them have it?

[3] What?

[4] Let's have our look and then lock it up again. They can hold it until we want it back. It won't be a problem to get it from them when we want it.

[5] Silence!

Chapter Fourteen: More than Just Gasoline

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You can't please some people no matter what you do." - anon -

 

 

The small dark box, no bigger than a large shoebox, had opened. The top slid back a centimeter then flipped open like a mint box lid. Inside was a small compartment. Jeff, Zormna, and the rest stared in at the velvet-like interior. Resting on top of a number of smaller objects like a cover was a peculiar plate of metal, etched with markings only Jeff understood. Jeff reached in, carefully removing the etched plate. The box remained stable and open. The other objects inside included an electronic recording disk, a gold ring with an insignia of an ancient family, and a number of fragile items encased in airtight glass. Jeff lifted up the metal plate, examining it. 

The plate was as small as an index card and only twice as thick. It seemed to be made of a gold alloy, but it certainly wasn't pure gold. It didn't bend in his fingers. The etching on it was in a curly ancient script and it ran top to bottom like Chinese. Jeff handled it carefully, peering down at the bottom of the box at the other objects, wondering at them, especially the ring. The crest on it was familiar, though he did not know where he had seen it before.

"What does it say?" Zormna asked, peering over his shoulder.

"You can't read it?" Agent Keane asked her, confused.

Zormna shook her head. "It's in ancient - I think."

"He can't read ancient! He's a rat!" Dr. Simpson yelled, accidentally released from Steele's imposed silence.

Steele clamped his hand over the man's mouth again. Jerking up his chin toward Jeff, he said, "Read it."

Jeff looked at him, concerned that Steele had almost given himself away. Yet he nodded. He said the words out loud: "Trrii noowan shath chmeqa trrii qrroi'or sor sheyas, em qwanap'om pleevdasnarree. Tath neez zarr shath laqovee noowan men'or shath chmeqa trrii qwoh'azz'en - trrii han'warr ee trrii chagmowt - shath Than'arr ee Thal'arr - shath zuqwal Tarrnee.[1]"

Jeff nearly dropped the plate. His lips went white as his heart raced, his eyes reading over the words again, comprehending its meaning. Everyone stared at him.

"What does it say?" Zormna asked, her intense eyes inspecting his face.

Hastily, Jeff placed the metal plate back inside the box and quickly pulled the lid shut. It immediately locked.

"Jafarr!" Zormna struggled too late to stop him. The box definitely locked with a solid click. "Why did you close it? What did the plate say?"

"You didn't understand that?" Agent Sicamore asked, gazing at her quizzically.

Zormna shook her head irritably. "Languages change after ten thousand years." Then grabbing Jeff's trembling hand, she jerked on it. "What did the sheet say?"

Still shaken, he was the only one who knew what it had said - but he felt like he had been treading on sacred ground. This box was not his place to venture. It did not belong to him. Lifting his eyes to Zormna, he knew it belonged to her - and her future husband, whomever that would be. And that should not be for many years yet.

"It was wrong for us to open the box," he said, wiping the sweat that had formed on his brow. "It isn't the right time."

"What?" She gaped at him. Taking in how much he was trembling, him clenching his arm and staring at the maroon carpet with a familiar flush of shame, she frowned. It was the same look on his face when he had apologized for touching the brand mark on her shoulder last spring. Something inside her told her not to pursue this any further. But she didn't want to give up just yet. They had come so far, and the curiosity was killing her.

The waxy pale man mumbled something through Steele's hand.

"What?" Sicamore asked, looking back at the man.

Steele let go.

"I said...the boy's a liar. He doesn't know. He is just making it up."

Agent Sicamore peered at Jeff, clearly unsure. Unusually quiet, Jeff couldn't even look at Zormna.

Zormna scowled at the waxy-pale man. "He understood it alright. He just doesn't want to tell us what it said."

Jeff lifted his eyes to her, cringing.

"But what did it say?" Zormna pulled Jeff closer to keep him from walking away in his own shock. "Come on. You can tell me, can't you?"

"He's a liar! He can't - " Dr. Simpson started to yell, but Steele clamped a hand on his mouth again.

"What did it say?" Steele asked, peering at Jeff.

To Zormna, Jeff replied, "I wasn't meant to read it. You were."

She blanched, peeking at the others around them who were listening in. She didn't know how much the FBI knew about her, but she didn't want them to know the details. "But I can't read Ancient. Can't you at least translate it for me?"

"Mff, mfff, mff, mff, mff." a muffled remark came from the waxy man that meant, neither could Jeff.

Painfully, Jeff glared at their snide countryman. "Yes, I could read it. My mother was Seer Class."

"Sff, mff?" the man retorted through Steele's hand.

"Yes. That means I was trained to read Ancient, so shut up already." Jeff then turned to Agent Sicamore. "You can take it. I doubt you know that song. It probably reset anyway with another tune. And it really will be pointless to try and open the box any other way unless you want to destroy the contents. But you can take it. You already know that if I want it, I can get it at anytime."

Glowering at Jeff's smug reminder that he was more than capable of breaking through the security in a government building, Agent Sicamore was half inclined to have both teens taken in with the others from their home world to end this entire alien fiasco. However, since he was sure the organization Jeff was part of was waiting on the sidelines somewhere to stop them, Sicamore merely nodded. He would have to deal with the boy later.

Jeff nodded to himself, mentally checking that off his list as the FBI agents under the direction of Agent Sicamore lifted up the box and carried it to a padded crate, setting it inside. Then he returned his gaze to Zormna, who looked annoyed with him.

"I can't believe you won't tell me what is written on that plate," she muttered sourly, her thin fingers tightening into fists.

He shook his head. Taking her wrist and pulling her hand into his with a reassuring squeeze, he said, "That box is yours. You'll get to read the plate when the time is right. It's just not now."

Zormna reluctantly gave up. She knew when Jeff pointed out the timing of a thing, he was probably right. Timing, in many cases, was everything. She turned for them to go out the door with the other departing FBI. After all, their job was done.

As they went out, the waxy-skinned man shouted from between those agents dragging him from the room, "She won't be coroneted! We'll kill her before we let that happen! You mark my words! She will die!"

Hot-faced, Jeff snatched the homemade laser from Zormna's hip-side holster, pointing it at the man. "Not if you're dead first."

The agents around him lifted their weapons, not sure whom to point them at.

But Dr. Simpson only laughed as he was hauled to the door. "That thing only has enough power for stun. I saw what it could do."

"Not if I do this," Jeff said, pressing up a switch. The weapon gave off an audible hum. Those standing around could actually see a red glow coming from the tip. Some got out of the way.

The waxy man swallowed, eyes widening.

"No, Jafarr." Zormna stepped in between. She put her hand on Jeff's, pushing it down. "That man is already guilty of five murders. I'm sure Agent Simms won't be letting him run around to cause more. And I certainly won't let you be guilty of any."

Feeling her warm hand on his, her eyes earnestly fixed on him, Jeff lowered his gun. But he did not take his eyes off the despicable man who immediately sneered at them both.

"Just like a Tarrn," Dr. Simpson called out. "Not enough guts to do the job properly. I'll hunt you down and kill you like the flea you are."

Zormna only glared at him.

But Agent Simms swung a punch to his face. The mention of doing things 'properly' had set him off.

Tumbling into the arms of the agents that were restraining him, Dr. Simpson clutched his bleeding nose.  

"Lock him up," Agent Sicamore ordered the two at Dr. Simpson's side, frazzled.

They were glad to, dragging the man to the waiting armored transport.

Agent Keane closed the top to the crate now containing the box, watching Jeff and Zormna as he did. The pair were whispering quietly, Zormna mostly to Jeff to calm him down. Jeff looked like he'd tear Dr. Simpson apart with his fingers, and possibly his teeth. He had never seen Jeff so enraged. Zormna's forehead touched Jeff's, her dark green eyes fixed onto his fathomless ones as she spoke privately in their native tongue. All those keeping an eye on the pair wondered again over their relationship. Most had heard Jeff was a self-appointed bodyguard, and clearly Jeff would have shot Dr. Simpson over that threat to Zormna. But this seemed personal.

A group of armed operatives went with Agent Keane, helping him carry the crate to take it back to wherever they had intended to transport it in the first place. Jeff lifted his eyes to Agent Sicamore when he saw it get carried out. Soberly, he said to the head of the Mars Project, "You make sure he doesn't get out. I have no doubt that they are connected to the ones who killed Zormna's great-aunt. If they manage to contact anyone on the outside, they might return to our town to finish the job."

Meeting Jeff's gaze, Agent Sicamore nodded. He sighed