Dr. Leafhead: Story of a Mad Scientist, Part 1

A Few Months Later

                                          ...A FEW MONTHS LATER.

                                                   Journal Entry #84

    Another long day on Mars.  The portal hit a record high of over 7 hours.  I  stayed for the duration.  It only takes about 4 or 5 hours before the mind begins to feel fuzzy.  The jarring gravity (not to mention surreal surroundings) eventually plays tricks on you.  Leafhead has stayed over on Mars during the 24-hour portal-crash but doesn't recommend the experience.  We are working on developing decent gravity-pills and atmospheric-normalizers.  With the time I was able to traverse about half the perimeter of the lake.  The only real exploring to do is amongst the rubble of the city.  No reason to wander off and get lost... as far as the eye can see in every direction is empty desert.  Leafhead claims there are many other ruins on the other hemisphere, ones even more well-preserved than Lake-City, but that he chose this area because it is the only spot left with fertile enough ground to support growth.  I have learned much about the Martians who thrived here long ago, but for everything I understand about their society there is twice the amount of bewilderment.  For every answer discovered there is a new question revealed.  While digging through the crumbled alien walls I found a very Earthly object... a dusty gold picture-frame.  The glass remained unbroken, the document untouched. I quickly realized I'd found where Leafhead had chosen to stash his Last Will and Testament.  This didn't seem all that strange considering Leafhead... until I actually read the document.  It is dated from 1963, making him much older than he appears.  This confirms what I essentially already knew, given that pop culture based on his life dates back to at least the mid-40s. I intend to question him about the Jellyfish.  The really strange part was the fact that I, Jonathan Farquarson, am listed as the sole beneficiary of the estate. The will predates my birth by a decade and a half... and yet there I am written down in Leafhead's unmistakable handwriting.  I brought the mystery back from Mars and have hidden it in my room--

  "Leafhead says to meet at the library now," suddenly announced my wrist-watch.  Acting as a messaging device was probably the its most useful talent.  Without wireless communication in a house like this you could spend hours trying to find someone and wind up stumbling into more carnivorous reptiles than humans.

  I stashed my notebook with the Will and headed to the library. 

  "Look at this!"  exclaimed Leafhead.  The round-table had shifted a few feet to the left, revealing a hidden staircase.   

  "What's down there?"  I asked.  This house would never run out of surprises.  The perfectly plain table that I'd had breakfast at every morning for months was now another doorway into another unknown room.

  "I don't know," said Leafhead.

  "How could you not know?"  I puzzled.  "This house has mysteries even for you?"

  "Evidently,"  he replied.  "I wouldn't have thought so either.  But evidently,"

  "Why'd you move the table anyway?"  I asked.

  "I didn't.  I was eating breakfast... toast with raspberry jam and blended Martian blue-leaves, as well as genetically-altered eggs that I rendered on the 3-D printer.  I placed said items on the table, but before I started eating I also opened a book of word-puzzles and placed down a pen.  Suddenly the table moved itself a few feet to left.  The only explanation I can think of is that someone rigged this doorway to have an elaborate key system that is unlocked only when a group of very specific items are placed on a tabletop in an even more specific order.  Given that I have never sat down at this table with toast, raspberry jam, blended Martian blue-leaves, 3-D rendered eggs, a puzzle book open at page 38 and a pen, the door has never bothered to open."