The Druid

Chapter 5

The time of day was seven-thirty in the evening and the setting sun, for the first time, was a source of great anxiety for Alan. His imagination was running wild, but as he walked to Mr. Aalberts's, he believed it to be true that there was less life in Woodlands Park than usual. Where were the blue jays that frequented the trees in Alan's front yard? How come today of all days the brown squirrel with the black tail wasn't perched on Savannah's birdhouse? Most ominously of all, why were the roads completely vacant of life?

Alan typed in Stephen Hawking's birthday and Mr. Aalberts's garage creaked and moaned as it opened. He unlocked the door leading into the house with the silver key beneath the mat and the events of yesterday rushed uncontrollably through his mind. His hesitation to move forward earned him a raised eyebrow from Will.

"It's nothing," Alan promised. They walked inside the kitchen and when Will placed his laptop on the island, Alan winced, expecting the secret door to open. Fortunately, it never did.

Alan's Wi-Fi was not the issue; the way he understood it was that the Internet itself was inaccessible. Will, however, found that Mr. Aalberts's Wi-Fi was still registering on his computer, albeit a weak signal. While Alan prepped Galley's food, Will got to work, convinced that their science teacher had a technological secret. Alan frowned at the kitchen island and shook his head. If only Will really knew.

"Galley," Alan called. He refused to ring the bell because, quite honestly, he suspected that bell to be the switch to the secret door. "Galley, come get your food." He waited patiently this time because no matter how quickly Galley came for his food, Alan was at the mercy of Will. "Any luck?" he asked.

"No," Will said dismissively.

Alan called Galley's name again, helping himself to a slice of cheesecake in the process. He was not surprised in the slightest to find that the only items in the refrigerator were cheesecake, a stack of sardines, a block of chedder cheese, and a crusty-tip bottle of mustard. Mr. Aalberts had strange eating habits. When he was younger, Alan thought his neighbor was a cyborg. Who else could sustain life off sardines and mustard?

The cheesecake was so fantastic that Alan forgot his worries. Until the plate was empty and everything came rushing back. Stupid cat, he thought. Alan opened The Celtic Reality and began skimming every page for any additional information related to portals or kelpies. Forty-five minutes passed--during that time Will didn't make a noise--before he gave up. "Screw it," he said. "I'm not waiting any longer. If he starves it's his fault for being so high maintenance. You ready?"

Will didn't answer right away. "There's an independent computer system here, Alan. One that works outside of the Internet realm." He looked up. "That shouldn't be possible."

"I don't know what that means," Alan admitted.

"It means that Mr. Aalberts has technology that is only rumored to exist. I am referring to high-tech, government-grade software that has never actually been proven to exist, just theorized. Somewhere in this house exists technology unknown to all but the elite, with capabilities you or I can't understand as of now. I believe it's safe to assume that Mr. Aalberts is not who we think he is."

Alan was skeptical. "How could you possibly know that?"

Will shrugged. "It's, of course, possible that I am mistaken, but I don't believe I am. Every time I try and access the independent system, it disappears, only to reappear moments later. And that's only if I can find it. It's a phantom software, because it's not actually the Internet, although it is registering as such." He paused. "I don't know what it is."

"That doesn't make any sense," Alan said. "But, all the more reason to leave."

"Ten more minutes," Will said dismissively.