Blake shuddered as he read the first few words: conspiracy, genetic counseling, test tubes, and didn’t understand, just in the first few paragraphs, the meaning of complex medical terms and procedures. He didn’t understand why Baron wanted him to read these reports.
               These three volumes are reports, he thought. And Baron wanted me to read them
               He shook his head again and suddenly felt a cool wind swirl around him. He looked up at the door to the secret room. Through the basement windows, near the ceiling, it was apparent, it was growing dark outside.
               The door remained open. He became uncomfortable and started to perspire. Why? He wondered. Is it memories of events that happened in this room, outside in the woods, on this estate?
               He wished he weren’t in Baron’s house; his old home. But you are, so...
               As he looked down at his hand, it trembled. Am I getting sick, he asked himself. His hand covered the first page, of the first report, as though he didn’t want to read the typed words or he didn’t want to continue reading.
               Blake drew a deep breath as he became aware that Baron’s moving ahead with the plan had something to do with the contents of the reports. What? What is the connection? He knew he had to read the reports and the sooner the better.
               He oriented his thinking and decided that after all the years that he and Baron had been separated, Baron still had some amount of control over Blake’s life. He mulled the thought and wondered why he allowed it.
               You’ve analyzed this many times, Tiger, he said to himself. When you were kids, you didn’t mind Baron leading the pack. He was always good to you and those few times he got out of line, he apologized for. Yeah, but did he mean the apologies? It happened more than once.
               Blake saw Baron chasing him, catching him and wrestling him to the ground. He recalled different growing up wrestling matches and realized these tests of strength were the first time that Blake knew he was stronger than other friends of his, outside the members of the board, but board members were evenly matched. Except Baron seemed to be somewhat stronger and physically harder.
               Board members were physically strong too. Over the years, each guy had tested his strength against other board members. They were all well developed, physically, and Blake recalled various occasions when one member informed other members they were stronger than their other playmates, other contemporaries.
               Well. Are you going to read the reports or not? He asked himself.
You know your are! He replied.
               He read the first volume. It brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t believe the writing was true. Hand written notes by Baron’s uncle and Dr. Frederick Haussmann, for the small university in Harbor Junction. Some of his childhood feelings began to make sense. He understood many things that happened. Some events became clear and he understood the actions. He closed the first volume and shook his head. He hated what he had read and yet he was fascinated by the plot, that Dr. Haussmann and Cyrus Largent had instigated and carried out.
               Funny, he thought. In a way, I’m part of that plot.
               Part? He asked himself. You’re a major player, baby. Not just a part. This first volume was about when you guys were kids. Get into the second volume.
               He picked up the second report. “Ah, yes. See? It says, ‘High School Years — The Experiment.’ But this title is in English, not scribbling.”
               Blake laughed and wished he had some coffee. He needed a cigarette but no longer smoked. He took a deep breath, one after the other, as he turned the pages, and read intimate details, blunt in language and terse. His heart beat quickened as he read different accounts of tests they performed. “When did they do these tests? I sure don’t recall either Dr. Haussmann or old man Largent doing things like that to me.” He paused and looked up at the ceiling. “When could this stuff have happened? I wonder if I enjoyed it. I seemed to enjoy everything they asked me to do. Some guys didn’t but I did. Who is the female they reference? I don’t remember any female, at least in this house.”
               He became more sexually aroused at some of the experiment descriptions and results. He found the volumes hard to believe and yet, the hand-written reports were obviously not written by Baron. This is not a Baron fabrication! And certainly not a Baron joke. And there were two different scripts. Obviously written by two different people. The entries were completed by two different people two. He would have to prove the scripts belonged to Dr. Haussmann and Mr. Largent. But, how?
               Get some of their letters, theses, papers or other work from the archives or library at Harbor Junction College. That’s where that professor, Dr. Haussmann taught...
               Blake paused and tried to remember. I was never at that school, that small college, except to take a few preparatory courses for college. I was a senior in high school and so were the others. He glanced at the first volume. But all of that stuff in that report is about when we were in grade school. He looked at the cover again. “It’s not scribbling writing. It’s German. German language don’t fail me know, he said and chuckled.
He read aloud, “Projekt Stern Suche experimentiert — Grundschule! What does it mean?” He tried to remember. Two years of German in college and you can’t translate a single sentence. You can read it, Blake? You can read it Blake. Translate it, now.
               He spoke the title again, saying it slowly in German, and listened to his words, “Projekt Stern Suche experimentiert — Grundschule,” He paused and he thought about each sound. He said, “Project Starquest Experiment — Grade School.” His mouth fell open. “One title in German and the second title in English. He glanced at the third book. “It’s in English too. Must be old man Largent’s handwriting.” Hm.
Blake entertained mixed emotions. Smiling because of the memories this room brought back to him, he knew that some of his college buddies wouldn’t believe that he taken time off and would take more time off and be away from his promising career, as a practicing trial lawyer, to read stupid reports that were over twenty-five years old, just to satisfy an old childhood chum. They’re more like horror stories. More like science fiction. And yet, something inside him, told him, the accounts of many experiments had to be true.
               He finished reading the second volume, pushed it aside and picked up the third notebook. He read the title in English, “Project Starquest Experiment — The Future.”
               Blake hurriedly flipped through the pages. These are outlines. Only outlines of tests that have yet to be conducted. “Count me out,” he said. “Definitely, count me out. I don’t get it. What does the name, ‘Project Starquest’ mean?” He continued flipping the pages and reading test outlines, procedures that had yet to be conducted. “Who are we? Who am I?”
               He slammed the notebook down. “And for what?” he shouted. “Why did they do this to us? To me?”
               The basement had an echo. Blake frowned and didn’t understand the source of his uneasiness. What he read included him but he had no memory of the experiments. His lack of recollection troubled him. He thought back a long time into his past. It’s true. In grade school and from grade school on, the six of us, we’re always together. All the time. Well, not all the time. I had other playmates and so did the other guys. Although the six of us kept coming back together. “We played most of the time, in this house, the Largent Manor House, sometimes in the basement, but sometimes in secret sessions, in this room.” He paused and inhaled. “What all did we do in this room? Out there in the woods? At the lake? Why is my mind so lame?”
               He stopped thinking and sat still. His eyes glanced at the ceiling. He listened and heard footsteps upstairs, first floor, move slowly across the hallway into the living. He hadn’t heard a door open or shut. Who’s there, he thought.
               He wanted to stand, but he remained stiff in the chair.
               The sound of the footsteps moved out of the living room, slowly down the hall and even slower down the stairs to the basement. His heart pounded. There was no place to hide in this damn room. He looked around the room. Just this long table, six chairs, file cabinets...file cabinets? he thought. What else is in those cabinets. He didn’t remember the file cabinets being in the room when they played here as kids, in grade school or high school.
               Suddenly he realized who belonged to the footsteps was trying to be more quiet. He couldn’t hear his shoes on the steps, but knew whoever was coming downstairs knew he was in the secret room.
               Blake shook his head as a hand appeared and gently clutched the wide open door. Blake closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A tall man walked into the room. He wore a brimmed hat low over his eyes.
               “Baron?” Blake asked. What’s wrong with him? He looks terrible. Older and very tired.
               Baron walked slowly toward the table, stood and remained a few feet distant from Blake.
               “My old buddy,” Baron said.”How are you?”
               Baron placed a hand on the table to steady himself.
               “Are you well?” Blake asked. He remained seated.
               “Yes.”
               “I am too,” Blake replied.
               “I can see that,” Baron said.
               “Yes.” Blake cleared his throat. His heart beat went back to normal, But he was still excited at seeing Baron again. “I didn’t think you lived in Harbor Junction any longer.”
               “I don’t. Haven’t got time to relax.” He leaned against the table. He didn’t smile. Without a warning, he said, “You haven’t used any of the money I gave you...”
               “Well, uh...”
               “The money is yours, Blake. Not mine. My uncle had so damned much dough, I couldn’t believe it. He never let on to me...”
               “You were very fortunate to have inherited it...”
               “I think he left it to me to keep the Feds from getting their hands on it. 150 million plus and the bank accounts keep growing...”
               “Bank accounts?” Blake asked.
               “Well, yeah, Blake. As you know, your account is a joint account with me. I check on your account now and again, your total was over 10 million a few days ago. Use it man. Use the money!”
               “I appreciate your gesture, Baron...”
               “Cut the crap, Blake.” Baron said. “We’re more than friends. We’re more like brothers...”
               Blake lowered his head. He had heard this line before. He wanted to avoid the consequence of his agreeing with Baron.
               “I find it hard, difficult, nearly impossible to accept your money...”
               “Because, I suppose, you think there are strings...”
               “Well, no, it isn’t exactly that...”
               “What is it then?”
               “I’m not certain I like you, Baron...”
“Why? Because I opened your bank account as a joint account?”
               “No. Because...” He closed the report notebook. “Because, I can’t believe you want to put the plan into effect.”
               Baron laughed and Blake knew the sound. Barons was dismissing Baron’s concern. Both men knew it was a scene, a dialog, they had played before.
               “OK, I understand. It’s not that way anymore, at least most of the time.”
               Baron’s manner annoyed and frightened Blake.
               “We were kids. Kids do funny things to themselves and to each other. But we grow out of the bad habits, or we should. No, Blake, I know what you’re talking about. I have no interest in that anymore. You shouldn’t either...”
               “Who said I did?” Blake snapped.
               “Cool it, man,” Baron said, his voice lower. “Let’s get off to a good start. After all, it has been too long, since we were together.”
               It could be a longer time, Blake thought. That would suit me fine. Then I could get back to my law practice, my life and Jenny.
               “I had hoped you would have read the reports by now...”
               “I have read them...”
               “But sir, you’ve only been here a few hours.”
               “I’m a quick study...”
               “What are you angry about?” Baron asked. He hoisted himself up on the table and unbuttoned his overcoat.
               “I’m not certain, Baron. I don’t know for certain, but...”
               “You always were somewhat undecided, Blake. I liked to boss you around.”
               “I know you enjoyed it.”
               “That and other things,” Baron said and arched an eyebrow.
               “What other things?” Blake asked.
               Baron slid off and jumped down from the table. He walked rapidly toward Blake. “This is no way to greet an old friend,” he said.
               Blake stood and pushed his chair back with his leg.
               Baron held out his arms and embraced Blake. “Besides, we’ve been friends much too long to not be friends again.”
               Mixed emotions engulfed Blake again. He reached forward with his hands but could only touch Baron’s sides. He couldn’t do an embrace. He wasn’t certain why he was hesitant. The word trust raced through his mind. Over and over again. “Trust,” he said.
               “What?” Baron asked.
               Blake hoped Baron wouldn’t buss him.
               He didn’t. Baron pulled away from Blake and walked to the wall and leaned against.
               A camel hair overcoat and he’s leaning up against this smelly basement wall. He still has no sense of money or value or worth.
               Baron folded his arms. “Have you talked to Jasper recently?”
               “No, why?”
               “Well, suddenly he’s stopped communicating with me. He’s closed his bank account. I have no idea where he is. We must find him.”
               “We?” Blake asked.
               “We. Señor,” he said. “But definitely, sir, we!”
               Blake looked down at his hands. They no longer trembled. He didn’t know why. He was about to become involved in some caper with Baron, money was no issue, and if only Jenny hadn’t been in Europe when he left for Harbor Junction. He wished he could have explained this trip to Harbor Junction to her, in person, and not in a note with flowers. I hope, well I knew she will understand, but...
               Blake picked up his briefcase and set it on the table. He opened it and placed the three reports inside. Baron watched him as he snapped the briefcase shut.
               “Than you agree? You’ll help me?”
               “How could I say no, Baron?” He slid his briefcase along the table as he approached Baron. “You’ve aroused my curiosity. I don’t understand most of what I’ve read...”
               Baron smiled.
               “But somehow I feel that I’m part of this so-called experiment. These experiments, I should say. And, I don’t know why.”
               Baron pretended to appear to be surprised.
               “Do you know what the stuff written in these volumes is all about?”
               “No,” Baron said. “That’s why I need you...”
               He’s lying, Blake thought. Why is he lying to me?
               “I’ve made reservations at the large motel on the edge of Harbor...”
               “You took me for granted, huh?” Blake said and chuckled.
               “No. I’ve never done that to you, Blake.”
               Now he’s telling the truth. That son-of-a-bitch Baron could never lie to me, I’ll find out why he’s lying to me in time, one way or another. In my own way. “No, I guess you haven’t,” Blake said as he strode up to Baron. “It really is good to see you again, Baron.”
               “I wondered when you were going to say that, buddy,” Baron said. “I’ve been eager to see you again for years.”
               “You could have come to see me at school...”
               “Naw. College life was never for me. Too many things to do. Too many things to get done.” He ushered Blake through the wide, secreet door.
               “What does that mean?” Blake asked. He watched Baron walk to the far basement support pole, pull down on the hook and the secret door close.
               “Oh, it means a lot of things, buddy,” Baron said. “I’ll tell you all the dark secrets later. Shall we go?” he said pointing to the stairs.
               Blake followed Baron up the stairs to the first floor, They walked down the hall together. Blake noticed Baron’s frown.
               “What’s the matter?” he asked.
               “Too many memories in this house.” He pressed his lips together.
               “I know what you mean,” Blake said.
               “Do you? Upstairs, I mean?”
               “Yeah. I know.”
               Baron held the front door then the storm door open for Blake.
               “Thanks,” Blake said. “There’s a chill on the night,” he said, watching his breath surround him and fly away. He looked at Baron’s limousine. The driver got out and walked to Blake.
               “Thompson,” Blake said. “How the heck are you?”
               “Fine sir,” Jack Thompson said tipping his the bill of his cap. “And you sir? You’re looking fit as a...”
               Blake handed his briefcase and overnight bag to Thompson. He walked back to the limousine and clicked a remote that opened the trunk.
               “The best of everything,” Blake said, watching Thompson gently place his luggage inside the trunk.
               “Why not?” Baron asked as the two men walked toward the long automobile. “When you got it, use it,” Baron added.
               “No reason,” Blake said. He said that like he’s sending another coded message, Blake thought. We’ll see, won’t we? The night is still ahead of us “We have a lot of talking to do, Baron. A lot to catch up on.”
               “What makes you think I have all the answers?” Baron asked as Blake climbed into the rear seat. Blake sat back and turned to Baron.
               “You mean you don’t have all the answers? Be honest. Really?” Blake pleaded.
               “What answers I don’t have, you can believe, you and I together will find. And I hope it doesn’t take forever, too.”
               “Oh?” Blake said. Thompson turned on the ignition. He pulled away from the curb slowly.
               “You and I together can do anything, Blake.”
               “And we usually did,” Blake said.
               They laughed.
               “Harbor Inn Motel, Thompson,” Baron ordered.
               “Yes sir,” Thompson said.
               Blake wondered why Thompson stared at him the in the rearview mirror. There’s a thought. I wonder what Jack Thompson knows about the experiments, the plot or whatever it is. I know what we planned to do as kids, but, the rest of this stuff...
               “What are you thinking about?” Baron asked.
               “You’d be surprised, Baron, old buddy,” Blake said.
               They laughed.
               “No, I really wouldn’t,” Baron said.
               The limousine turned and rolled up the curved drive to the motel. Blake enjoyed the reputation of service in this motel. He looked forward to the evening with Baron. It should be a winner, he thought.
              

Excerpt from Chapter Two — Baron Largent