The Diaries of Ayesha

I resisted the urge to sing that when we arrived at Waverly Station in Edinburgh the next day. Most of my experience with Edinburgh was seeing it in movies, so I had a certain image of it in mind that clashed with the reality.

But at least I was there with the Mistress, who was dressed in a tartan skirt and white blouse while I stuck to a more plebian pair of jeans and T-shirt.

We were traveling light so I only had to wrestle with three bags and my briefcase to the street where we hailed a taxi.

"Where to?" the driver asked after taking the bags and loading them in the trunk

"Bonham Hotel please," the Mistress replied as he held the door for her to get in.

"Why the Bonham?" I asked as we pulled into traffic.

"It's a very nice hotel and besides, it has high speed data ports that we need," she explained. "After all this is a working vacation."

She was right about that. The Bonham is a very nice hotel with totally state of the art rooms up to and including a DVD player in the room as well as web access through the TV system.

I finished looking around the room and all I could say was "Cool."

"Oddly enough that was the reaction of one of the travel magazine reviewers too," the Mistress said with a smile. "Why don't you get logged in and see what we have to work with at this point."

I pulled the laptop out of my briefcase and hooked it up to one of the two phones in the room and logged into the email system.

There was a long note from Dr. Morris reviewing the notes from the meeting in London. He was skeptical of their claims, but indicated there was a bare chance of a breakthrough due to the overall experience of the team.

"A shifting antigen virus for dealing with the common cold rhinovirus is a theoretical possibility but it would have to alter its protein structure on the fly as it were to accomplish this. However this type of virus, if possible would not cause the reported results in livestock. I would concentrate on gathering samples of the water in the area for analysis and also attempt to secure a sample of the virus being developed at RoslynLabs," part of his note said.

"So how do you want to handle this?" I asked.

"We are going to play tourist, take lots of pictures, sop up a few pints and drive around and talk to people around the area."

"Who's driving?"

"I am of course. Call the local branch of the Bank and tell them who you are and have them deliver a company car here," she said picking up a local map provided by the hotel.

"And who's sopping up the pints?"

"You are."

"I am? You know I don't drink."

"No better time to learn."

It didn't take long for me to reach the Bank branch on St. Andrews Square and not much longer for a car to be delivered to the hotel.

Apparently her taste in cars was known, because when we found when we went down to the street was a classic Jaguar XKE in all it's polished red glory.

"Now I see why you said you were driving," I said slipping into the passenger seat.

"I'm sure you could drive it just as well," she said starting the engine and revving it up.

"You know I can't drive a stick worth a damn," I reminded her.

"But you could drive a motorcycle," she replied. "It's a blind spot on your part that you can't drive a stick."

"Tell you what," I said as she pulled into traffic, "if you want to risk the transmission damage, I'll give it a shot."

She looked at me pityingly.

"I'm not that daft."

We left Edinburgh proper and drove through the countryside towards the East, up hill and over glen until she stopped the car in a town called Dalkeith.

"Now what?' I asked.

"We have a nice lunch in the pub over there and listen to the people," she explained pointing to a building.

I ordered the battered haddock and a pint of ale, drawn from the wood and she ordered steak pie and tea, then sat and listened to the customers while we waited for the food to be delivered.

We ate slowly to make sure we didn't miss anything in the line of conversation about odd happenings in the area and finally retired from the field with no useful information.

The next stop was Bonnyrigg where we repeated the procedure, only this time for tea and scones but with the same results.

As we drove into Roslyn where the lab was located I saw on a ridge a large stone house with some ruined stone pillars next to it.

"I wonder what that is," I said looking at it as the Mistress pulled to the side of the road.

"That is the home of your friend Miss Sinclair," the Mistress explained.

"No wonder she acts like a princess," I commented.

"It's in her blood." she said and drove on.

We drove through Roslyn and stopped on the road near the laboratory and waited as workers drove out of the facility and others walked to the bus stop at the corner of the road.

'What are we doing?" I asked after a few minutes of waiting.

"Saphra should be leaving pretty soon. I want to follow her and pick her up some distance away to make sure there isn't any suspicion cast on her," the Mistress explained.

"Ah so," I hissed.

"You know, one of these days we have to get your teeth fixed," she said. "Your accent is terrible."

I pouted and turned my attention back to the exiting workers and finally spotted Saphra as she walked towards the bus stop carrying a briefcase.

The number 15 bus pulled past where we were waiting and stopped as Saphra and a few other people boarded it.

The Mistress waited until the bus was almost out of sight before starting the car and following, being careful to let a few other cars get between the bus and us.

We trailed the bus for a bit then passed it and stopped at a gas station and let it pass us again, always being careful to watch for Saphra getting off.

When she did it was at the main bus station on Queen Street at which point she set out on foot walking north on Dublin Street.

"Do we pick her up now?" I asked as the Mistress drove slowly through the late afternoon traffic.

"No, I think we should just keep following and see where she goes. I need the practice anyway," the Mistress advised.

Saphra's path led us ultimately to an address on Drummond Place, an old Georgian house. The Mistress pulled into an empty parking space and honked the horn.

Saphra turned towards the noise and smiled then walked back towards us.

"I wondered if you got my email with the address," she said hugging the Mistress as she got out.

"Actually no, we followed you from the lab, " she explained.

"Really? I'm impressed. Come in and we can talk," she invited.

We followed her inside the house and she led us through a sitting room and into a small well kept garden.

"I figured you'd rather talk outside," she said.

"You're picking up some pretty good security habits," the Mistress remarked.

"Well Dr. Ruth had me sit in on an orientation course at the Institute while Michael was away. I didn't think to check to see if I was being tailed though," she admitted.

"No reason to suspect you were. One of the reasons we did was to make sure that nobody else was," the Mistress reassured her.

"Why did you decide to stay here?" I asked looking around and admiring the garden.

"I stayed here once on a student trip to the University, so I decided I'd stay here again," she explained.

"Practical too. Not much chance of anybody spotting us together here."

"Another point. How was your first day at work?" the Mistress asked.

"Pretty routine. I spent most of the day in employee orientation and then some time leaning over shoulders in the lab learning what they expect me to do. It's pretty standard stuff," she said.

"No secured areas, no Level Four doors, nothing like that?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"Not that I saw. I was pretty busy today. It might take some time," she warned.

"You can take all the time you need, " the Mistress assured her. "Provided you don't take more than a week."

"A week?"

"One week. Any longer and my father will want to know what's going on," the Mistress explained. "Remember this is a two headed calf of a job."

"I'll do my best," she said doubtfully.

"We know dear," I said. "Dr. Morris wants samples gathered of the wastewater from the lab and anything else we can secure."

"Okay, let's go," she said standing up.

"Go where?" I asked startled.

"If Dr. Morris wants samples, we get samples. Come on," she said.

I just looked at Mistress Minx who shrugged.

"I'll drive," she said pulling the keys out of her blouse pocket. "But I think we'd better change clothes first."

An hour later found the three of us making our way across the field surrounding RoslynLabs taking care to stay away from the fence line dressed in black jumpsuits and carrying empty plastic bottles for water samples.

"Remember the last time we did this?" I said softly to the Mistress as we approached the stream behind the lab.

"I'll admit riding a cow was a new sensation for me," she replied.

"What are you two talking about?' Saphra whispered in a puzzled tone.

"Never mind. Look, we'll split up and take our samples from multiple locations along the stream and then meet back at the car. If you don't show up in an hour, we'll have to assume something went wrong," the Mistress warned.

"If you are caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions," Saphra quoted.

"That's a little extreme. I seriously doubt there is any real skullduggery on their part, but I think they might object to us taking samples," the Mistress explained. "We'll check with the police to see if you were arrested for trespassing and then bail you out."

"In a worst case you claim you're with Greenpeace or some other environmental group," I said. "Just your everyday regular eco-terrorist."

"Very funny," Saphra replied.

We met back at the car a short time later with no incidents to report and a lot of full bottles.

"See, no problems at all," I said cheerfully.

"No problems yet. The next step is getting these things to Dr. Morris for an analysis," the Mistress reminded me.

"I can do the job at the University if that's all right," Saphra volunteered. "I still know a couple of people who work in the analytical lab."

"How discreet are they?" the Mistress asked as I loaded the bottles into the trunk.

"They aren't going to ask any questions I can't answer" Saphra assured her. "It would be faster as well."

The Mistress thought about it for a minute then agreed.

"How long will it take?"

Saphra looked at her and then back at me.

"Well if I don't stop for dinner..."

After dinner at the pub in Roslyn we drove back to Edinburgh and Edinburgh University where Saphra directed us to Mayfield Road to what she called the King's Buildings.

"Isn't it kind of late to be using the lab?" I asked as we walked through the deserted campus.

"No, the University has security patrols, but the labs are left open for use all night," she explained.

"Ah, sort of like CalTech is," I said thinking about my dissolute youth when I used to hang around the campus.

"Pretty much," she said leading the way into a building and up the stairs.

She nodded politely at the security guard that was coming down from an upper floor and he smiled in reply.

"You don't think you have enough water there do you?" he said cheerfully pointing at the sample bottles I was carrying.

"It's actually very fine whisky. I'm a spy and I want to steal all your secrets by analyzing it." I said with a wink and a nod.

"What a waste," he replied with a sigh." Will you be very long tonight?"

"No," Saphra said. "Once we get the analysis started, we'll probably leave."

"That's all right then," he said and continued down the steps.

"Trusting folk," I said as we walked down the second floor hallway.

"They're used to students being here at all hours, although I'm surprised he didn't say anything about the clothes," Saphra explained. "Ah here we are."

She opened a door and led us into a room full of electronic equipment.

"This is a gas chromatograph and mass spectrometer system. By using this we can find every substance in the sample by molecular weight," she said taking one of the bottles and using a syringe to grab a sample, then injected it into a tiny vial. "We can also use the machine over there," she said pointing to a device," to do liquid chromatography and that will give us the concentration of anything in the sample."

"And how do we know all-wise Girl Genius, what we're seeing if all we know is the weight?" I asked.

"Molecular weight Michael, or if you want to be a prig about it, molecular mass. I have a few other tricks up my sleeve too you know," she said. "Just sit back and let me work."

"Come along Michael," the Mistress said. "Leave Madame Curie to her work."

"Actually if you two want to go back to where you're staying, I can walk back from here," Saphra offered." It's not that far."

"At this hour?" I said doubtfully, looking at the clock which had just ticked past midnight.

"I've been taking classes with Mr. Li," she said. "Just something to keep myself busy."

Mr. Li was the resident self-defense instructor at the Institute and the person who had trained Mistress Minx in karate, judo, and several other martial arts.

No one was quite sure how old he was, but everyone knew of his demands for perfection.

He was reputed to have been the model for Chiun in the Remo Williams movie and having been in his presence at a social gathering, I can well believe it.

"I withdraw my question as irrelevant your honor," I said with a look at Mistress Minx.

"As well you should. We're staying at the Bonham if you want to join us for breakfast in the morning Saphra," the Mistress advised. "Come along R2"

I made the obligatory beeping noises and we left for the hotel.

Saphra roused us from our bed at seven that morning with a file folder full of paper and a disheveled look.

"I can't find anything in the samples at all," she said in disgust throwing herself into a chair and the file onto a table causing the papers to flutter onto the floor.

"Michael, pick those papers up and give them to me." the Mistress ordered sharply.

Saphra sat although the annoyed look on her face didn't go away.

I handed the Mistress the papers and she put them down on the table and then ordered me to go sit in a chair on the far side of the room.

"There were no toxins, chemical or biological in any of the samples. I found residues of some common pesticides and detergents, but nothing that can't be explained by normal everyday pollution," Saphra explained.

"I hate the idea of pollution being called everyday, but I see your point," I said wryly.

"There is always going to be something in the water Michael. Unless you are using a sterile sample," Saphra explained pointedly.

"Bear Whiz Beer. It's the water. That's why it's yellow," I joked.

That earned me a groan from the Mistress and a snarl from Saphra that exhibited that she had hit the end of her tether with my sense of humor.

"I want you to understand something," the Mistress said firmly. "I can understand you're frustrated over the results. But I don't like the attitude I'm getting with your frustration. If it continues, I will bend you over a chair and paddle your ass."

"But... " Saphra started to say petulantly.

That was enough for the Mistress. Before Saphra could react the Mistress had her out of the chair and over the table. Like a striking cobra the Mistress applied full spanking thrust onto Saphra's left ass cheek and then switched to the right alternating five strokes a side and then pushed her back into the chair.

"Now, let's start again," the Mistress said. "Your results were negative on the samples, is that correct?"

"Yes Miss Dawes," Saphra choked out.

"Yes what?" the Mistress intoned in her best Army drill sergeant tone.

"Yes Mistress!" Saphra replied wiping the tears from her eyes with a sleeve.

"Better," the Mistress said. "Now take a deep breath and start from the beginning. And Michael, order breakfast for the three of us and then read these reports."

I followed my orders and listened as Saphra explained what tests she had run and the results from each as I read the reports for myself.

"Tend to your muttons Michael," the Mistress warned, as there was a knock on the door.

I opened it to admit the room service waiter with breakfast, told him I would handle the service, tipped him generously and then escorted him out again.

"You handled that very nicely," the Mistress commented.

"I've been practicing," I said. "May I serve you Mistress?"

"Saphra first, as she has to go to work today, "the Mistress instructed.

"I'm not very hungry," Saphra said tiredly.

"You need to eat before you go to work. We'll drive you so you don't have to take the bus today," the Mistress reassured her.

I put the breakfast plate of sausage and eggs and a bowl of porridge oats down before Saphra and poured her a cup of Earl Gray.

"Unless you want her to force feed you, I'd suggest you eat," I warned her.

She smiled wanly and picked up her fork.

I served the Mistress next and was rewarded with permission to have my own breakfast with the two of them.

"Now, just because you didn't find anything, doesn't mean there wasn't anything to find," the Mistress said spreading marmalade on a slice of toast. "We may not have taken the samples from the right location."

"True," Saphra admitted. "I'm sorry I wasn't very professional earlier."

"Long night, short sleep, and a serious amount of time pressure. As well as the fact you don't want to screw up. Understood and accepted. We'll just have to get more samples from other locations," the Mistress advised. "Did you take save separate set of samples for Dr. Morris?"

"Yes, I left them at my hotel. And I updated the data he gave me as well. It's on the laptop."

"All right, we'll swing by there and pick them up before we take you to work and have them couriered to the Institute."

That pretty much finished the discussion so far as the Mistress was concerned, so we turned our attention to breakfast.

A quick stop at Saphra's hotel to pick up the samples and then a quicker drive to the lab to deliver Saphra to work brought us round again to the local branch of the Bank where the Mistress ordered a courier delivery of the samples to the Institute.

The bank manager wasn't terribly thrilled by this request, and also expressed his displeasure at being used as a car rental agency as well.

"Miss Dawes, I'm certainly willing to arrange a car for you at short notice but asking for courier service for a package that could be handled by normal methods is going to be hard for me to justify to the main office," Kevin Blackhall explained.

"Mr. Blackhall, I am the main office so far as you are concerned and I want a courier dispatched with this package in the next five minutes, or inside of the next ten you will be looking for new employment," the Mistress explained in her "Are you too dumb to live?" tone of voice.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers calmly before him.

"I don't take well to threats Miss Dawes, even if you are the daughter of the founder," he explained.

"I never threaten Mr. Blackhall: I promise. Is your position with this firm really so unimportant to you where you would risk it for the sum of a few pounds?" she pressed.

He leaned forward and looked her in the eye.

"This job is damned important to me Miss Dawes, and I've kept it by keeping the operating costs for this office low."

"Very well Mr. Blackhall, I understand your position. But consider the phrase 'Pennywise and Pound foolish' if you would please while I call the main office in London and explain the situation," the Mistress said picking the phone up and dialing a number quickly.

"Yes, this is Minkin Dawes calling. Please put Mr. Nigel Canby on the line I don't care if he's in Bombay or in bed," she said and then hit the speakerphone button and hung up.

"Yes Miss Dawes, how can I help you?" Nigel said deferentially when he came on the line.

"It seems I have a problem in Edinburgh on that matter my father asked me to handle while he is in Geneva. "

"As bad as all that then?" he said.

"Yes, I have a package that needs to be taken to Hereford for analysis and the manager here has been uncooperative." the Mistress explained.

"And the gentleman's name Miss Dawes?" Nigel asked.

"Kevin Blackhall."

"Mr. Blackhall, are you there?' Nigel asked.

"Yes sir?" Kevin said.

"Your employment with the Bank is terminated effective immediately. You will turn your keys over to Miss Dawes in the interim and leave the Bank at once. You will be contacted concerning your termination pay. Good day sir. Miss Dawes?"

"Yes Mr. Canby?"

"I'll be there myself in three hours and I have a young man in the London branch that would be quite fit for a position that I'll bring along with me if that's acceptable?"

"Very good Mr. Canby. I will see you in three hours. Good bye."

The Mistress hung up the speakerphone.

"I'll have your keys now and when Mr. Canby arrives, he will deal with the rest of the termination issues including a very through audit of the Bank and your personal accounts," she said.

"Bitch," Mr. Blackhall spat.

The Mistress smiled.

"This was avoidable. And yes, I can be when necessary. The last person who crossed me at this level had his office sealed behind a brick wall and was disbarred from the practice of law."

"Actually she was going to seal the office up with him in it, but I advised her it would be a bad idea in a century or so when the building was torn down," I added.

"Michael..." she warned. "Curb thy tongue."

"Yes Ma'am."

Kevin threw his keys down on the desk and stormed out of the building swearing.

"Is something the matter with Mr. Kevin?" his female assistant asked looking in the door at the two of us.

"Mr. Kevin, as you call him is no longer employed by this company. I am in charge until Mr. Canby arrives from the main office in London."

"And you are?" the girl asked carefully walking in and standing before the desk.

"I am Miss Dawes," the Mistress explained.

"The Miss Dawes?" the girl asked with a note of awe in her voice.

"If by that you mean the Miss Dawes whose family owns the Bank, yes."

The girl held out her hand and the Mistress took it.

"I'm Iris MacGyver, Miss Dawes. It's an honor to meet you. I've heard all about you," she said.

"What have you heard?" I asked curiously.

"Och, she's a financial genius and beautiful as well. I can see that for myself. And you've been all over the world too."

"Looks like you've got a fan Mi'lady," I said with a grin.

"And you are?" Iris asked.

"Just call me Michael. I'm her personal hewer of wood and drawer of water." I explained.

"I can see it's more than that from the way you say Mi'lady," Iris said with a cheerful grin. "Is there anything you need Miss Dawes?'

"I'll want you to give Mr. Canby and the new manager all the assistance you can when they arrive," the Mistress said.

"Yes Ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, tea for the two of us please."

"Yes Ma'am."

One of those awful questions popped into my head and I had to ask.

"Excuse me Iris. Do you have a brother named Angus?"

"No. Why?"

"Never mind Iris. Michael has an odd sense of humor at times," the Mistress said dismissivly.

"Oh." was all Iris said and shut the door.

"I don't usually interfere in your decisions Mi'lady, but did you really have to

fire the poor schmuck ?" I asked when we were alone.

"Are you questioning my judgement?" she asked with a dangerous tone in her voice.

As the Klingons say, when you bite, bite deep.

"Yes actually I am," I said calmly. "You could have just had him transferred to a lovely new location like, John o' Groats or some other tropical spot."

" I don't mind someone who disagrees with me, but I have a serious problem with people who are just plain obstructionists."

"All right, I still think you were wrong, but you're the Captain," I said.

"Yes I am. And maybe I was a bit more brutal than the situation called for, but time is short and those samples need to get to Dr. Morris."

"So now what? We're stuck here until Nigel arrives."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. When Nigel arrives, I'm going to commandeer the company jet to fly the samples and I to Herfordshire and back. You in the meantime are going fishing," she explained.

"Fishing?" I asked carefully.

"Fishing."

And that is how I found myself in a rowboat wearing a kilt slowly paddling my way down the North Esk river with a fishing pole, a GPS, and a quantity of empty bottles.

The plan was simple enough: Paddle down the river disguised as a fisherman and collect water samples at the same time.

Now frankly, wearing a kilt wasn't my idea of a disguise, it felt more like a "shoot me" flag, but the Mistress insisted.

That and as she remarked once it's like putting me in a dress without anybody noticing.

And the plan worked pretty well too because as I collected samples, I used the GPS receiver to pinpoint the location so we could tell later exactly where they came from.

One of the incidental effects of the plan was catching a couple of monumentally stupid trout that attacked the hook even without bait.

And that gave me an idea. Maybe we were looking in the wrong place by checking just the water.

When I returned the boat to the rental dock the Mistress was waiting impatiently for me.

"What took you so long?" she asked as I started setting bottles on the dock and then the question turned into "What are you doing with the fish?"

"It occurred to me that we might not be looking in the right place," I explained. "Maybe Dr. Morris can test the fish and see if there are any problems with them. I logged where I caught them."

"Oh Michael," she groaned. "You're probably right of course. Let me see if they have a bag or something in the rental office."

So I would up loading the fish into a bag while the Mistress stood a discreet distance away trying to ignore the smell.

She dropped me off at the hotel and suggested I go up to the Castle before she drove to the airport. I took the chance to get cleaned up and rather than getting dressed in my regular clothes, I decided to stick with the kilt for a bit.

I walked over to Princes Street to start my expedition and after a few blocks decided I'd had enough of the tourist prices and wandered towards the Castle.

Edinburgh Castle was the home of James the VI of Scotland who later became King James the first of England and holds the Honours of Scotland - the Crown, the Scepter and the Sword of State.

It's much like the Tower of London in spirit, but instead of being built on a river, it's on a high volcanic hill in the center of town.

The oldest part I learned was St. Margaret's Chapel; a tiny Norman building which has been standing there intact for more than 900 years. Even when the castle was taken in wars, the chapel was left alone out of respect.

There was even something for my religion as in the northeast corner of the grounds was a spot called the Witches Well in memory of the women accused of witchcraft and put to death at the stake there.

I knelt there for a bit trying to feel those who had passed before while surrounded by the history of the castle, knowing I might look odd to some people, but not caring.

I felt a touch on my shoulder and looked up to see Miriam standing there.

"I thought that was you," she said kneeling beside me. "What's with the kilt?"

"Local color," I said. "Doing the tourist thing?"

"As per instructions. I haven't seen Saphra yet."

"We saw her this morning," I said. "We picked her up last night at her hotel. She's staying at a house on Drummond Place."

"I'll cruise that area tonight,' she said. "Any results so far?"

"Only negative ones. The Mistress is taking a sample set to Dr. Morris right now for more analysis."

"I did a little snooping around Roslyn and the area, stopped at the Roslyn Chapel and took the tour. Kept my ears open. "

"Anything?" I said standing up.

"Some grumbling about Angus Sinclair and his passion for privacy. Seems he fired a couple of shotgun rounds over someone's head a few weeks back when they strayed onto his land."

"What did the local cops do?"

"Nothing of course. He's the Laird of Roslyn so far as they're concerned and trespassing here isn't viewed kindly."

"We'll have to see if we can't arrange a visit to his Castle then once we officially arrive here," I said as Miriam stood as well.

"What now?" Miriam asked.

"Now we walk back into town, have a meal and go our separate ways. Where are you staying?"

" The Stuarts at 17 Glengyle Terrace, just south of here."

"Then we'll walk in that direction until we find a place that looks good."

We found a nice fish and chips shop about halfway back to her lodgings, so we ate there and then went our separate ways Miriam to try and rendezvous with Saphra and me, back to the hotel to await the return of the Mistress.

And return she did about eight that evening dressed in a pair of black leather pants and a leather biker jacket with her hair pulled back and knotted in a bun.

"How was your day?" she asked handing me the briefcase in her hand.

"I should be asking you that," I said looking at the leathers. "You started in nice casual business attire and now you come back ready to rock and or roll."

"I decided to grab these things when I was at the Institute while Dr. Morris analyzed the samples. And you were right. It wasn't in the water as strongly, but it showed up in the fish."

"What did?" I asked.

"It's an pseudoestrogen compound that mimics natural estrogen and can cause sex changes in adequate concentrations," she explained.

"And I assume this is not a naturally occurring substance?"

"You'd be surprised. There are actually some common household detergents that have been implicated in gender changes in frogs according to Dr. Morris. It was really fascinating, but most of it went over my head. You and Saphra can probably break the report in my briefcase into words of one syllable, but the important part is, we have a cause."

"Do we have a location? I mean where was it strongest?"

"That's up to us to determine. You took the GPS readings, so we have to match them on a map, which I brought with me."

55° 51' 7.00" North, 3° 9' 34.0 West".

The river near the base of the hill where Roslyn Castle sat.

"So it's not coming from the lab, it's centered on the castle," I said rechecking the map.

"And the farm where the man reported the problem is less than a mile away located on a stream that feeds from the river," the Mistress confirmed.

"So that pretty much exempts the lab from being the cause," I said. "Unless the lab makes the stuff and they dump it at the Castle."

"A possibility. Saphra may be able to get us that answer. Did Miriam have anything to say of interest?"

I looked at her in surprise.

"How did you know I'd met Mistress Miriam today?" I asked.

"I knew she would be at the Castle. That's why I sent you over there. She emailed and suggested it as a contact point in her email this afternoon before I left."

"Always one jump ahead of the crowd," I mused. " She said that Angus Sinclair had apparently fired a couple of shotgun blasts at a trespasser on his land a few days ago. The man complained to the cops and they basically shined him on."

"That fits with what we know. I also did take your advice and had Dr. Ruth do an evaluation and a background check on Daphne Sinclair."

"Well I do seem to be the font of good ideas this week."

"Don't be a smart ass Michael, or I'll give you a smarting one."

"Sorry."

The background check on Daphne Sinclair was fascinating to say the least.

She had been an attorney then returned to school for a second degree in biochemistry.

"Smart girl. I wonder if that was because she wanted to or Daddy wanted her to?"

""A little of both perhaps," the Mistress replied. "Keep reading."

Attempted suicide in her teens after the death of her mother. Released from the hospital over the objections of her doctors both medical and psychiatric due to the insistence of her father.

"I'm sorry I haven't been nicer to her," I commented after reading that part.

"You've been nice enough," the Mistress comforted. "The really interesting part is her field of biochemistry."

Research on hormones, specifically estradiol, progesterone, testosterone and pregnenolone.

"Are you pondering what I'm pondering?" I asked.

"Yes."

"So where do we get a duck and a garden hose at this hour?"

That got me a swat across the head with a rolled up map.

"You were warned," the Mistress said.

"It's pretty convenient over all that we have a problem with rampaging hormones and one of the prime suspects is an expert on them. Almost too convenient," I said.

"I'm inclined to agree. Especially since her father has the same background in biochemistry as well as degrees in molecular biology and virology."

"Actually the easy way to sort it out is the obvious one. Who lives in the castle most of the time?"

"It's not going to be that simple. They both do."

"Happy Happy Joy Joy. Are you proposing we assault the castle at dawn?" I asked.

"Not necessarily at dawn, but something like that yes."

"Mistress?" I asked slowly.

"Yes Michael?"

"When did you decide that suicide might be a good idea? Somebody almost got shot the other day for being on his property."

She looked at me and then laughed.

"I was thinking of getting an invitation to the castle and while we were there, snooping around a little."

"I'm not sure that's the sanest idea I've ever heard, but it's workable."

"He's hardly likely to shoot us at a social occasion," she demurred." but then again, who knows?"

The Mistress decided she wanted a pub crawl that night so we started at a place on Lothian Road called The Ferret & Trouser Leg which just tickled my sense of humor no end.

It was crowded and noisy which seemed to delight the Mistress as much as it deafened me. I will say however the female to male ration was skewed more to the female that evening and the fact I was still wearing the kilt attracted a bit of attention from some of the ladies.

"Where are you from?" one tall dark haired girl asked as the Mistress made her way to the bar to get a drink for herself.

I answered with the first thing that popped into my head, which just happened to be "The Isle of Skye."

"Are you? With that accent?" she laughed.

"You asked where I came from. I'm an American," I said with a grin. "I'm on vacation here."

"Who's the girl you came in with?"

Now that is always an interesting question for me to answer since it changes by context of the location and the questioner.

Sort of like the fabled "Uh - friend." when questioned about someone who is primarily a sex partner.

"And who wants to know?" I countered.

"I'm Shelia," she laughed. "Are you married to her?"

"Not as married as you might think," I replied. "More collared actually."

"Is that the way it is," she said archly." I wonder if she'd let me take you home for a try out then?"

I nodded towards the Mistress as she returned from the bar with a pint in her hand.

"Ask the Lady," I said as the Mistress walked up.

"Ask me what Michael?" the Mistress said eyeing Shelia.

"The young lady was wondering if I was available for rental," I said with a small smile.

The Mistress looked at Shelia and then back at me.

"I don't usually rent him. I generally trade for services," the Mistress said evilly giving Shelia the full 'Find 'em, Feel 'em and Fuck 'em look'. "What do you have to offer that might interest me?"

Shelia took a pull from her own glass and excused herself with a full on blush.

"You know, that could have been the start of a beautiful friendship," I said watching her disappear into the crowd.

"She's not good enough for you Michael," the Mistress said sipping her beer. "There are days I'm not sure I'm good enough for you."

"That isn't the Mistress I know talking," I teased. "Remember you walk on water, leap over tall buildings at a single bound, and could seduce the Pope if you had to."

She spit her beer back into the glass on the last phrase.

"What an image," she said handing me the glass. "Go get me another pint. Guinness dark."

I plowed into the crowd around the bar and manage to place the order and then felt a hand on my ass, under the kilt and turned to see two young ladies giggling.

"Did that satisfy your curiosity ladies, as to what a Scotsman doesn't wear beneath his kilt?" I asked in a southern drawl, reminicant of Huckleberry Hound, "Because if so, you got the wrong man."

Everyone around me laughed at that and the girls fled embarrassed as the barman handed me the Mistress' glass and I retreated back through the crowd.

"What was that all about?" she asked when I caught up to her chatting with a young man.

"Oh I was getting felt up by a couple of girls who thought I was a native," I explained then shifted into the drawl." 'course they was some upset when they found out I weren't one."

"I see. You may go now," she said imperiously.

I was a bit miffed at first and then saw the effect it was having on the young gentleman and withdrew with a "By your command."

I found a somewhat quieter corner of the place and sat and watched the life forms dance, embrace, come, go and otherwise do what young people do for the mating and dating ritual now days.

Ah sweet bird of youth. In my case not only has it flown, it's been shot, stuffed and used for Thanksgiving.

The Mistress returned to me without the boy and suggested we move on and get a bite to eat so we wandered about until we wound up at the Blue Moon café in Broughton St.

That is also where we found Saphra and Miriam sitting at a table in the back corner holding hands and snogging.

"Did you plan this?" I asked the Mistress.

"No, I didn't. The Blue Moon does have a reputation as being a good place for gay couples to meet, or so I've heard, so I'm not surprised that they gravitated here. And the food is good."

The Mistress ignored them and we sat at a table near the rest rooms and when Saphra passed by, the Mistress waited a moment and followed her in.

It might seem odd, but think about it. When one lady needs to use the facilities, they all need to.

The Mistress was gone for only a short time and returned to the table and Saphra passed by when she left without a glance.

"Anything new?" I asked quietly.

"I gave her a quick brief on what Dr. Morris found and she's going to check the lab section that handles that type of research. She did locate a biohazard security area, so she's going to see if she can't have tea with one of those workers and learn what goes on in there. Routine and mundane at this point."

"Excellent," I said imitating Mr. Burns from the Simpsons.

"Now do you want to tell me what's going on between Miriam and Saphra?" the Mistress prompted.

"Is something going on?" I asked mildly looking towards where the two subjects under discussion were sitting.

"You hinted earlier that there was something going on and I'd like to hear it," she said firmly.

"Well is seems that Saphra is interested in Miriam for her first time," I said looking at her.

"You mean she...?"

"Uh huh."

The Mistress sipped her drink and smiled evilly.

"Saphra is in for an interesting time."

We returned to the hotel after dinner as the drinks and the long day caught up with the Mistress and after helping her to undress, I scrubbed her in the shower and put her to bed.

Myself, I took the report that Mistress Minx had brought back with her and started reading.

The Mistress was right; it was interesting reading for the entire amount I could understand. I knew Saphra would be able to appreciate it more and amplify on the parts I didn't understand, but the basic file informed me that the toxin in sufficient quantity could destroy the male species as a whole and seriously damage the female.

It also pointed out that there was no true evidence of there being a manufactured toxin.

True enough.

The Finagle Constant: The Perversity of the Universe Tends to the Maximum.

I closed my eyes and set the report on the table, with a yawn.

I woke up to find the room empty, with no sign of the Mistress. The furniture had been removed and I was lying on a bare mattress on the floor.

The window was broken and crudely patched with a piece of rotting plywood and the paint was peeling from the walls from water that had leaked in through the roof.

I looked for my clothes and couldn't find anything at all that wasn't water damaged and rotting, so I took part of the curtains that were left and made a toga like garb so I wasn't totally exposed.

What the hell was going on?

I opened the door to the hallways and picked my way over piles of debris and down into the main lobby that was as deserted as the rest of the building. I could see where someone had started a fire in the lobby for a campfire but the ashes were cold when I felt them.

I stepped into the street and found cars parked randomly, one with it's bumper imbedded in a lamppost but no sign of a driver.

I walked through the town towards the Castle and didn't see any signs of life at all. The whole town was deserted. I couldn't even hear dogs barking and the sky was empty of birds. A cold wind blew scattered remains of a newspaper towards me and I grabbed a sheet and read the headline.

In mismatched type fonts it announced the effects of the plague were permanent and that the basic population of the planet would be reduced to one tenth of the current level which had already fallen to half a billion in less than a year.

Most people not killed by the Hermophage as the plague was named were rendered sterile or suffered from dementia from the hormone changes the disease forced.

I looked for the date on the newspaper and couldn't find it.

I kept walking until I reached the castle and looked out over Edinburgh. Half the town was charred rubble and from my vantage point I couldn't see any signs of human or animal life at all.

I walked down to where I had met Mistress Miriam the previous day and sat looking at the Witches Well waiting for a sign of some kind. Was this because we hadn't succeeded in stopping the Sinclairs?

Had we provoked the Sinclairs into spreading the toxin with our investigation?

I sat and waited as rain started to drizzle down on me. As the drizzle turned into rain it washed the soot off of one of the walls and I could see something written there in red.

I got up and walked towards it to see it better.

I read:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,

For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,

And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,

And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

I came wide awake with the Mistress standing over me with her hand on my shoulder and Saphra standing behind her.

"Are you all right?" the Mistress asked. "You were talking in your sleep."

I looked around the room and at the sunlight streaming in the windows and lay back.

"Yes! And the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!" I quoted weakly.

"What are you talking about?" The Mistress said confused.

I got out of bed and walked to the table where I had left the report from Dr. Morris and held it up.

"I had a dream after reading this that the worst case scenario had happened and the stuff had spread," I said handing it to Saphra.

She took it and sat down in a chair and started reading while the Mistress put her arms around me and held me for a moment then released me.

"Why don't you take a shower and get dressed and I'll order breakfast," she said.

I looked down and realized I was naked and then looked over at Saphra and apologized.

She looked up from her reading momentarily and then made a brush off gesture and put her nose back in the report.

I got in the shower and turned the water as hot as I could stand it, trying to shake the dream out of my mind, so I guess I jumped when the Mistress opened the door and asked if she could join me.

I turned the water temperature down to a more reasonable level and stepped back so she could get in.

She insisted on scrubbing me and I relaxed and let her, still trying to calm down. She could sense I was still disturbed by the dream and by careful scrubbing as well as a little applied pain, induced me to talk about it.

"It felt like I was doing Vincent Price in Last Man on Earth," I said. "The city was deserted and half destroyed. I went to Edinburgh Castle and scrawled on a wall was a poem that started 'Death be not proud.'

"John Donne," The Mistress said softly.

"Don't have any idea where that came from, I don't remember reading it before," I replied.

"Well it's not going to happen, because we'll stop it," she said. "After all that's what we do."

"You mean that's what you do, I'm just along for the ride."

She looked at me and frowned.

"Michael, we've been together for ten years now and I don't think I've ever said this to you before. I consider you my partner."

Now that was a new word. Partner.

"Partner. Uh, wow," I said uncertainly. " I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, just enjoy it," she said.

"Yes Mistress."

Partner.

We finished our shower and the Mistress permitted me to dry her off before I dried myself, so she was first out of the room. I finished drying and grabbed a robe went into the main room to find that breakfast had arrived and with it, Mistress Miriam who sat on the couch with Saphra.

"Excuse me ladies, I didn't know I was walking into a coven meeting," I apologized.

"You're not far off the mark Michael," Saphra said grimly.

"Say what?"

"Whatever happens you're out of it," the Mistress announced. "Saphra agrees with your bad dream. If so, it won't affect us as quickly as it would you."

"But it will still affect you," I argued.

"In a concentrated form it will kill you from hormonal shock if you're exposed," Saphra said.

"That is if this toxin really exists," I countered.

"Don't try and talk your way out of this one Michael, " the Mistress snapped." You read the report, Saphra agrees with your conclusions, you're not going."

"Let me at least go to RoslynLabs with you. Unless the staff is all female, the odds on contamination are almost zero," I argued.

"Saphra?" the Mistress queried.

"He's right of course. Assuming the lab isn't the source, the castle would be the main danger point."

"And if I stay close to you at the castle Mistress, I should be just fine," I said smugly.

"I'm going to keep you on a very short leash Michael," the Mistress warned. "No wandering off, no heroics, nothing. Is that VERY clear?"

"Yes Mistress," I said kneeling before her, head down.

"Get up and eat," she said ruffling my hair.

Over breakfast I outlined the ideas I had come up with the night before and Miriam quickly agreed to troll the constable and the young man that Angus shot at.

"Miriam, do you think you could get a blood sample from the young man who trespassed onto the Sinclair property?", Saphra asked.

"Maybe," she said carefully. "Why?"

"So I can check his hormone levels and see if they're elevated," Saphra explained.

"How about one better?" I suggested turning to the Mistress. "Do we have any pull in the Health Ministry?"

"We might. I'd have to talk to Dr. Ruth. Are you thinking about having them pick him up and quarantine him?"

"Rat on rat on rat on," I said. "Simplifies things all around. They get the samples, we get the data."

"Hmm, and the people who are trying to check the reports out on the government side get a helping hand."

"Actually if we have a way to disseminate our findings without having them traced back to us, it might prod the Health Ministry into taking more aggressive action," I added.

"Let me put that idea to Dr. Ruth. It may be possible. As to the psychological profile on Angus and a review of Daphne's, I'll ask her to have Grace review the conclusions," the Mistress said. "Michael and I will request our formal tour of the lab today Saphra, so don't be surprised if you see us."

"All right," Saphra said rising from the table. "I'd better be getting to work."

"I'll drive you," Mistress Miriam said. "I need to go that way anyway. Besides it will make our cover a little more secure if I drop you off at the lab and kiss you good bye."

The Mistress just looked at me and I shrugged.

Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls. It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world.

The Mistress called Major, sorry, Doctor Moore at RoslynLabs and advised him of our intention to visit that day and were told to come at our leisure and that he would be happy to see us.

That made me a bit uncomfortable as I'm not used to anybody actually being happy to see us in a business sense and I expressed my misgivings to the Mistress.

"We do represent a potential hundred million dollars to them you know," she reminded me.

"So they love us for our money. How sad," I said with a sigh.

"That's all right, we have each other," she said patting me on the leg.

The Mistress then called Dr. Ruth using the speakerphone and gave her our suggestions from the morning conference, which she agreed to instantly.

"That's a good suggestion about slipping the file to the Health Ministry," she said. "I should be able to arrange that with very little trouble and I'll have Grace review the profile on Daphne and do one on Angus."

I looked at the Mistress and inclined my head towards the speakerphone and the Mistress nodded I could go ahead.

"Dr. Ruth, I'd also like a background check run on Major Doctor Moore. I'd like to know exactly what kind of things he was playing with at Plum Island while he was in the Army. If he's played with anything other than plants, I'd like to know. "

"We have a source that can find that out for us. Did you have any other suggestions Michael?"

"Can you put an all female strike force together for an assault on Roselyn Castle?" I asked carefully. "If there is an issue, the toxin is instantly fatal to men."

"Minkin, is he serious?" Dr. Ruth asked.

"Actually yes he is. In a worst case we need someone to go into Roselyn Castle using unconventional methods and confirm if there is a problem," Mistress Minx said looking at me.

"I'll take it under advisement, " Dr Ruth warned. "Don't do anything without my authorization, is that clear?"

"I understand Ma'am," I said. "We're going to be as efficient as possible without having to go that far."

"I'm going to hold you to that Michael. Minkin, make sure that he is restrained from any impulsive actions."

"I will," the Mistress confirmed. "We're scheduled for a meeting with RoslynLabs this morning. If you don't hear from us by six o clock, contact Mistress Miriam and Saphra and let them know where we went."

"Of course," Dr. Ruth confirmed. "I'll have your profiles ready for you by then and I'll have copies sent to the email address you're using. Good luck."

"Thank you," the Mistress said and rang off.

I was inclined to wear a suit and tie for the tour of RoslynLabs, but the Mistress prevailed and I was again in kilt and she wore the tartan skirt and white blouse with a Tam o'-shander hat in black velvet that made her look like an outtake from Brigadoon.

"Where did you get that hat from?" I asked since I had done most of her packing.

"Oh, I had Nigel fetch it for me when he was here. And the skirt is the Sinclair tartan, which I thought would be a nice touch," she said.

"Nice touch or tender trap?" I asked.

"Invitation bait to the Castle," she agreed. "You've been wearing the Forbes tartan yourself. Your family name roots from there."

"You have been a busy girl," I said. "Are we ready to beard the lion in his den?"

" Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to victorie!" she quoted.

"Very comforting."

We drove to the laboratory and were greeted at the gate by a lone security guard that after calling the main lab, shoved a parking pass under the windshield wiper and directed us through the gate.

We drove to the main building and were greeted by Dr. Moore and escorted inside where we signed in on the log.

"I'll have to ask you to leave your briefcase here as well as your purse. Oh, and no cellphones either," he said to us apologetically. "Security regulations."

"Understandable," the Mistress agreed and handed her purse to the security guard at the desk as well as my briefcase. We received color coded security badges in return and after clipping them on, Dr Morris escorted us through a set of keypad controlled doors and into the main facility.

"We maintain a fairly tight security system here for multiple reasons including plain old industrial espionage," he explained as we walked down a corridor to another set of doors.

"That makes sense," I said. "Also prevents cross contamination in the labs as well."

"Another good reason. We do maintain a negative pressure system in most areas, so that any air leakage will be in rather than out," he agreed. "I 'm impressed by your background on things like that Mr. Forbin."

"I have a tendency to pick up odd facts here and there and retain them," I explained. "I've seen a lot of movies like The Andromeda Strain and Outbreak as well."

He laughed genially at that.

"Well as you know science fiction and science fact do collide at times," he said punching a code into the keypad at the next door. "And here is one of the places where we change the fiction into reality."

The door slid open and we entered a small laboratory area where a woman worked in a dim red light with a microscope and an image amplifying screens that looked like a small television.

"What is she doing?" I asked watching her take a long thin glass tube and then releasing a drop of solution into a petri dish under the microscope lens.

"She's actually adding genes from another cell into the one under the microscope. The genetic material will be absorbed modifying the cell." Doctor Moore explained stepping away and talking to the technician.

"Would it be appropiate to shout 'it's alive'?" I said quietly to the Mistress.

"Hush," she said trying not to laugh.

"Plastic tubes and pots and pans, bits and pieces and magic from the hand, weird science." I sang quietly.

"I'll hand you if you don't stop," she warned as Dr. Moore returned.

"Of course once we make the first modified cell, we have to make more," he explained and led the way out and into a larger space that actually reminded me of a brewery with all the tubs and piping and I commented on it.

"Well actually a lot of the methods we use are the same as a brewery uses for fermentation," he agreed. "This is the commercial side of the facility. Let's go over to the research side."

We were finally led back to a conference room in the main building where Daphne Sinclair and Alex Josephson sat waiting.

"I hope you enjoyed your tour," Daphne said coolly. "Did Dr. Moore answer all your questions?"

"Actually, we did have a couple of questions for you," the Mistress announced.

"Just one moment Miss Sinclair. Before we continue this discussion, I have something I'd like to show you," Josephson said picking up the remote control for a TV set inset into the wall and pressing a button.

There on the screen was the shadowy image of three people creeping across a field captured on a night vision camera.

"Would you have any idea who these people might be?" he asked.

"That is a wonderful image of Mr. Forbin and I and one of our associates checking your security arrangements," the Mistress said calmly. "Obviously you are better equipped than it first appeared."

"Was there a reason you felt you had to test our security?" he asked.

"Frankly yes. Some of the items you work with here are a severe hazard to the local environment and that makes you a potential terrorist target," the Mistress explained. "We were quite close enough to fire a rocket propelled grenade into the facility."

"And under surveillance all the way," he said pressing another button showing one of us at the riverbank with a bottle. "What were you looking for in the water?"

"Michael, did you bring the report with you?"

"The report?" I asked confused. I hadn't brought Dr. Morris's report at all, nor Saphra's. The Mistress knew that but I figured she had an angle of some kind, so I confirmed that the report was indeed in my case.

"Do you suppose it could be brought in?" the Mistress asked Josephson

"I don't see why not," he agreed.

Daphne had sat silently through the entire interrogation up to this point and then spoke.

"Alex, why wasn't I told about this before the meeting?" she asked Josephson sharply.

"I felt it would be better to leave you out of the loop," he replied.

"That is all too convenient an excuse and I don't believe a word of it," she retorted.

"I would suggest we discuss it later," he replied. "In the meantime I am very interested in the contents of Mr. Forbin's briefcase as I'm sure we all are. Jason, would you go and get it please?"

Dr. Moore frowned at being used as an errand boy but shrugged and left, returning a few minutes later with my case.

The Mistress took it from him, opened it and pulled out a file folder and set it on the polished wood of the conference table.

"This is what we found," she said and opened the file to reveal...nothing.

"We ran tests on the water in the vicinity of the lab and didn't find anything to indicate any kind of problem that would account for the bad publicity. I'm going to make a favorable recommendation to my father that the Bank fund your research," she announced.

"That's very pleasant to know Miss Dawes," Josephson said clearly surprised.

"That is after we see the results of the cold vaccine test," the Mistress added. "After all we'd like to see what we're buying."

"Would you and Mr. Forbin care to join me for dinner at the Castle tonight as my guests to discuss the matter with my father?" Daphne offered.

"We'd be honored," the Mistress accepted.

"Good. "

We were escorted back to the lobby and Daphne gave us directions to the Castle.

"I'll expect you about eight for drinks and we'll have dinner about nine," she said.

"Thank you Miss Sinclair," the Mistress said. "Formal or informal dress?"

"Actually I noticed you wearing the clan tartan. I think it would please my father if you wore that," she indicated.

"That I shall. Till this evening, Miss Sinclair," The Mistress said shaking Daphne's hand.

She released it and I took it and bent low over it, brushing it softly with my lips to Daphne's surprise.

"I'm looking forward to spending a little more social time with you and your family," I said looking into her eyes.

She withdrew her hand carefully and nodded noncommittally.

As we drove back to Edinburgh, Mistress Minx took a moment to express her opinion about the hand kissing.

"Are you really interested in starting something with her," she asked as she stopped at a traffic signal.

"Goddess no!" I exclaimed. "Why?"

The Mistress stared at me for a moment and then a small smile appeared.

"I don't think you quite realize how charming you can be when you try. She was really trying hard not to melt after that hand kissing bit," she said starting forward again as the light changed.

"Sorry," I apologized. "It just seemed like the right thing to say and do."

"Oh it was, it just surprised me is all," the Mistress explained.

"Hopefully the reports from Dr. Ruth and Grace will be in the email. Then we might have some idea of what's going on," I said changing the subject.

"And if not?"

"I don't know. I'm making it up as I go along."

"Thanks Indy."

The reports were indeed there and it they were rather interesting to say the least.

Dr .Angus Sinclair hadn't been seen in a business context for almost a year, his place at board meetings being taken by Daphne and the largest voting block of stock in the company was actually owned by Daphne, having inherited it from her mother.

Angus was in charge in name only, the real power being Daphne.

It also seemed that Major Doctor Moore had a major block of stock in a competing research firm under the name of Alex Josephson's niece, whom he was having an affair with.

There was also some question as to the point of origin of the TritFung materials, as very similar results had been developed at Plum Island while Major Doctor Moore was assigned there.

"Shall we add plagiarist to his resume?" the Mistress asked.

" At least that. Do you suppose Daphne knows about Dr. Moore's little affair?" I speculated.

"Maybe," the Mistress replied. "But why have us meet with her father, if she's in charge?"

"Well the dinner invite is obviously to get us alone or at least away from Dr. Moore and Alex," I suggested.

"And then what?"

"Shove us off the cliff?"

"Michael..." the Mistress warned.

"Well it's like the question of why the CAG went into the water; damned if I know."

"What's a CAG?"

"I'll explain it to you someday."

The Mistress shook her head and picked up the phone.

"Let me call Miriam and find out what she learned."

"Hello Miriam," she said after dialing a number and then stopped. "Oh, I see. Yes, call me at the hotel later."

She hung the phone up and looked at me.

"She was gathering information from the young man that Angus shot at," she explained.

I grinned

"And pollen as well?"

"Be prepared, is the motto of the Girl Guides," she quoted.

"Don't you mean the Girl Scouts?"

"Michael please, I'm English. Lady Baden-Powell founded the Girl Guides, and her husband founded the Boy Scouts."

"You learn something new everyday," I said.

"As you commented once, you live and learn, or you don't live long."

The Mistress took advantage of Mistress Miriam's involvement and used the time to call Dr Ruth on the phone and confirmed that we were still alive and well, and planning on bearding the lion in his den that evening.

"There isn't anything more I have to add other than to be careful," Dr. Ruth said.

"We will," the Mistress agreed. "If you don't hear from us by midnight, launch a rescue mission."

"We'll be a little more subtle than that Minkin. Good luck," Dr. Ruth confirmed and hung up.

"The time has come," the Mistress said. "Ready?"

I hesitated.

"I hope you were planning on leaving a trail of breadcrumbs or a note in a bottle."

"Valuable information for those who may follow," she smiled, pulling her cellphone from her purse and slipping it into a spot well concealed under the skirt.

"They say a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but I'll settle for one."

"Reach out and touch someone," I agreed.

Spring weather in Scotland being what it was, we found ourselves in a rainstorm as we drove up the road to Roslyn Castle, a rather stereotypical sort of thing to happen when a young couple is driving to a castle.

At least when the door was answered it wasn't by Riff Raff, although the possibilities of doing the "You're wet" bit did run across the rutted landscape of my mind anyway.

The door was answered by an older woman who identified herself as the maid and escorted us into the main hall of the castle where Daphne sat waiting for us a glass in her hand.

"Miss Dawes, Mr. Forbin," she said standing up. "How nice to see you again."

"Miss Sinclair," the Mistress replied. "I expected to meet your father."

"He's not feeling well, so I'm afraid he won't be joining us," Daphne explained.

"He felt well enough the other day," I said. "I'm sorry he won't be joining us."

Daphne looked at me with a startled expression.

"You saw my father the other day?" she asked.

"Actually, I heard about his method of dealing with trespassers from the locals," I explained.

"He takes his privacy seriously."

"I'd call a shotgun serious all right," I commented.

"Can I offer you a sherry?' Daphne said suddenly.

"A small one for me, please " The Mistress said, "Michael doesn't drink...spirits."

Daphne poured two glasses and then frowned

"I'm not sure I can do business with a man who doesn't drink, "she said.

"One of has to stay sober enough to drive,' I replied.

The two of them were just rounding off the bottle of sherry when dinner was announced and we made our way into the dining room where we were presented with a fine meal including poached salmon, roast beef and roasted potatoes and a hearty beef barley soup.

"A fine table you set here Miss Sinclair,' I said saluting the hostess.

"In honor of my father of course and to you. I generally eat at the lab or in town," she explained.

"It must get lonely up here at times," Mistress Minx suggested.

"I've never felt that," Daphne said. "I felt more alone at school than I ever have here."

Outside the night was suddenly punctuated by a brilliant flash of lightning and a clap of thunder as the rain started pounding down hard enough to rattle the stained glass windows.

"The road from here has a tendency to wash out in heavy storms," Daphne said. "Why don't you spend the night?"

"We'd be honored to accept, "The Mistress agreed with a sidelong glance at me.

"I'd rather not drive back in this weather anyway," I agreed." Besides, perhaps we can meet your father in the morning if he's feeling better."

"Perhaps," she said as the lights dimmed in response to another lightning flash. "If you'll excuse me, I'll have a room prepared for you."

"Of course," the Mistress said.

Daphne nodded and left the room.

"You're not planning on sleeping are you?" I asked the Mistress softly.

"No more than you had.," she replied." I don't know if she planned it this way or not, but I wouldn't put it past her."

"It will give us a chance however to scope the building," I said. "Or one of us anyway."

"Catwoman prowls tonight," the Mistress agreed. "You'll need to keep Daphne distracted though."

"And how pray tell do you expect me to do that?"

She looked at me with pity in her eyes.

"If I have to explain how to distract a woman, you really are out of practice."

Daphne returned before I could formulate an adequate response to that last comment and indicated that a room was ready for us.

"It's just down the hall from mine, " she explained. "Most of the castle isn't equipped with central heating but our rooms have fireplaces."

"Do you have any marshmallows?" I asked.

Daphne looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled momentarily.

"I do think we could probably find some if necessary."

"It just seems a shame not to toast marshmallows with a fireplace available," I said.

"Michael, I think that's pushing the bounds of hospitality a little," the Mistress rebuked.

"Not really," Daphne countered. "I actually have a cup of cocoa before I go to bed and I do occasionally use marshmallows. Perhaps you'd both join me?"

"I'm more inclined to go directly to bed, if you don't mind, "the Mistress said with a yawn. "I've had a rather busy day. Michael, you're welcome to join the lady, that is, if she's willing."

" I don't usually let strange men into my room, and your Michael, is about as strange a person as I've ever met," Daphne essayed.

"Miss Sinclair, I prefer to be thought of as maladjusted rather than strange or weird," I said calmly.

"Please don't take it as a criticism, it's more an observation. Tell me, do you play chess?"

"I do, not well, but I enjoy it," I admitted.

"Father and I play chess every night. Would you indulge me with a game before we retire to my room for cocoa and toasted marshmallows?"

"By your command," I said standing and bowing.

"Enjoy yourself Michael," The Mistress said. "If you'll excuse me Miss Sinclair?"

"Certainly. Your room is the last one on the right on the upper floor. I'll see you in the morning Miss Dawes."

"Minkin please Daphne," the Mistress offered.

"Good night Minkin," Daphne smiled. "Sleep well."

Another peel of thunder rolled across the sky.

"If I can with this going on. Good night, Daphne, Michael."

The Mistress left the room leaving Daphne and I alone together.

"Come along, " she said. "We'll play in the library."

I followed her out of the dining room and down a hallway and into a large room with a desk in one corner and a chess table and two chairs in the other. Hung on the walls between the book shelves were portraits and a few photographs and a couple of framed certificates that I strolled over and read.

They were the doctoral certificates for Daphne and her father and under them hung a picture of an attractive older woman.

"She's very attractive," I commented to Daphne indicating the picture. "Who is she?"

"That's a picture of my mother," Daphne said. "She died when I was very young."

"I'm sorry. I lost my wife and daughter some years ago. You never do get over it, no matter what they tell you," I offered." And unless you've suffered a loss, you can't understand the feelings."

"And they tell you things like "She's gone to a better place", or it was "God's will" as if that made it all right and proper." she said with some bitterness in her tone as she sat down at the chess table.

I took the two kings from the chessboard and putting them behind my back. "Choose your color."

"You can have white anyway," she said. "Give you a little advantage."

I placed the pieces back on the board and turned it around so I had white in front of me.

"Do you think I need one?" I asked calmly.

"As you admitted you don't play well, I thought it would be a nice gesture."

"You might regret that kindness later as I play Kzinti chess; I scream and I leap."

She smiled evilly.

"Are you going to talk, or play?"

I won't try and give you a play by play on the game, other than to admit that even with a first move advantage, I got my proverbial ass kicked in a very short time.

"You're better that I thought," Daphne said reclining in her chair casually.

"I'm glad you think so, because I sure don't," I said shaking my head.

"I play at a master level, so you didn't have much of a chance anyway. You made me work with your approach. Kzinti chess you called it."

"It has its advantages in some cases, but not all," I agreed as the noise of the storm increased in intensity and the wind howled outside just before the lights failed leaving us in darkness.

"Where was Moses when the lights went out?" I asked flippantly.

"In the bloody dark," I heard Daphne reply. "Give it a minute or two and if the lights don't come back on, I'll light a candle."

"Better than cursing the darkness."

Minutes passed without the lights coming back on and Daphne finally admitted that we were going to have to rough it.

"Can you find a light in here?" I asked.

"There is a flashlight in the desk, so all I need to do is get there and then I can use it to find the candles. It's not uncommon for us to lose power in storms like this."

"I'll stay out of your way then," I said hoping that the Mistress would take the advantage of the darkness to slip out of her room.

I sat idly chatting with Daphne in the light of the newly lit candles a few minutes later with the lyrics "with cat like tread..." running in the soundtrack of my mind as I vamped to let the Mistress prowl the castle unmolested.

"It's actually nice to be in candlelight to talk to you anyway," I said

"Oh, why is that?" Daphne asked suspiciously.

"Less formal and cold than electric light. You really are a very interesting young lady," I explained. "I understand you have a law degree in your background as well as your science degree. What type of law?"

"You've done your homework about me," she said with a small smile. "I studied patent law and contracts. I might well have practiced law instead of biochemistry if the company hadn't needed me more."

"So you actually work in the lab at the company or do you just do administration?"

"Actually I assist my father in his lab here," she explained. "He's still doing research in his field even though he isn't working in a day to day capacity for the company, and my background is useful to him."

"You know a laboratory in a castle has a certain Frankenstein feel to it," I joked, pronouncing Frankenstein, Fron-kon-steen.

"Well in some ways we do create life in the lab," she admitted," but on a much smaller scale."

"But with a potentially greater risk. After all you could see Frankenstein's monster with the naked eye; a virus you can't"

I was surprised to see her smile broadly this time, her teeth reflecting yellow highlights in the flickering candles.

"I hate to admit it, but I'm enjoying this discussion," she said. "You have some hidden talents Michael. Then again, so does your employer. She seems to have you well trained."

"If only you knew how well," I thought.

"It was a long process on her part I assure you," I replied. "Being a bit of a dilettante in the sciences is useful to her when evaluating certain projects, like yours for example."

"But you don't have a degree in the sciences?" she asked in surprise.

"Nope just a head full of data in various and sundry shapes and sizes, as well as a well honed bullshit detector. I have a tendency to think out of the box."

"Having seen your manners at times, you probably should have been kept in a box."

"I prefer a cage. Bigger air holes," I answered honestly.

She laughed at that.

"You do have a bizarre sense of humor. I'm just sorry you didn't have a chance to meet my father. He'd appreciate it even more than I do."

I decided to push the envelope a little.

"Your father is more ill than you're admitting, isn't he?"

"Is that what you think?" she bristled. "He's just a bit under the weather is all."

"Your father was well enough to threaten a trespasser with a shotgun less than 48 hours ago," I reminded her as I stood up." Let me put my cards on the table; we know that you have control of the company, as well as owning the largest block of stock. What we don't know is what your father is doing in his lab here and how it relates to the company."

"I believe I can answer that for you Mr. Forbin," a man voice rumbled from the darkness behind me.

"Father!" Daphne said startled by his presence.

"Aye," said the voice and a great bear of a man with wild gray hair and a bristling beard stepped into the light with a shotgun in one hand and the Mistress in the other.

"I found this cat prowling about the castle," he said pushing the Mistress, who was dressed in a black jumpsuit, towards me.

"Sleepwalking again?" I asked calmly.

"I'm actually having a lucid dream," she replied. "I'm really back in bed in London."

I scanned her up and down.

"Nice pajamas," I commented.

"You can stop the witty repartee," Angus ordered waving the shotgun at us. "I'm not laughing."

"Father, you should be in bed," Daphne scolded as she interposed herself between the shotgun and us.

"I'm not an invalid and I hardly need to stay in bed. And with communist spies roaming the castle, it's a good thing I didn't."

"These are the people from the bank about the investment Father, not communist spies," Daphne said firmly. "The storm trapped them here."

"And that explains her prowling about in the dark," Angus demanded pointing the shotgun back in our direction.

"Bad manners on my part Dr. Sinclair," the Mistress explained. "I'm an insomniac and couldn't sleep. I was walking trying to get tired enough to drop off."

"You see Father, a perfectly reasonable explanation," Daphne comforted. "Now why don't you sit down and have some hot cocoa with us?"

"And run the risk of being poisoned? Nay, lassie, I'll have none of it and neither will you. I'm keeping these two under watch until the morning when the constable can be summoned."

"Father," Daphne objected.

"I don't mind Daphne," the Mistress said easily. "How about a nice game of chess?"

"Do you play better than Michael does?"

"I don't know. I've never played chess with him. I usually play other games," the Mistress said with a sly wink at me.

"I don't doubt that."

The two women settled down at the chessboard with Daphne again offering the first move to the Mistress who graciously declined the offer.

Angus took a seat where he could keep both of us in his arc of fire and rested the shotgun across his knees to watch

I'll admit I didn't know the Mistress played chess until that night, but I sure learned in a hurry.

Where Daphne had skinned me alive and called me luggage, the Mistress plucked her bald and called her drafty.

"That was amazing," Daphne said reaching out to shake hands with the Mistress.

The Mistress accepted the hand warmly.

"Thank you Daphne. I played a lot at one time, but never against as good a player as you are."

"How about a second game?" Daphne suggested. "Give me a chance to catch up."

"Of course. You have a much different approach than my last chess partner and you make me think."

They were well involved in the second game when the noise of the rain outside was joined by the sound of a snore.

I turned to see Angus slumped in the chair sound asleep.

Daphne crept from her seat, slid the shotgun from under her father's limp hands and expertly removed the shells from the breach and replaced the now harmless gun carefully across his knees again then resumed her place at the chessboard.

She looked down, moved a piece with great deliberation and softly announced "Check."

The Mistress smiled and moved her Queen.

"And mate."

Angus woke up with a start and gripped the shotgun tightly then relaxed slowly.

"Your opposition plays like a Russian," he said standing up and looking at the chessboard.

"Thank you Dr. Sinclair. Would you care to play?" the Mistress invited.

"No I would not," he said brusquely and then turned his attention to Daphne." I think you're being too friendly with these people."

"I am being polite Father, as you should be. Enemy or not they are still entitled to common courtesy," Daphne scolded.

"The only reason I haven't shot them yet is they may be more useful alive than dead to the proper authorities."

"Well I certainly think I'm worth more that way," I said shifting in my chair.

"I know I'm worth more that way," the Mistress remarked.

"True enough. You get killed, I get fired," I teased. "Not a great career building move. Unless it's in the Imperial Star Fleet."

"That will be all from you two," Angus said sharply and thunder outside rumbled agreement.

"Dr. Sinclair, I've tried my best to be polite, but I really don't appreciate having a gun pointed at me for long periods of time, when I'm here by invitation," the Mistress said. "I am tempted, storm or not, to leave."

Dr. Sinclair cocked the shotgun and pointed it at her.

"Try it if you like," he suggested.

"I'd suggest you put the gun down Dr. Sinclair, before anyone gets hurt," she continued getting up and walking towards him.

"Don't come any closer or I'll shoot," he warned.

"No you won't, because you don't want to hurt anybody," she crooned. "You just want to protect yourself, I understand that."

"Stay back," he said shaking. "I will shoot."

"If you think you need to, go ahead, but I'm not your enemy Angus, it's the illness that makes you feel that way, you're just tired," she purred, changing her tone into what I think of as The Voice. "Put the gun down and let me hold you."

She walked up to him and pushed the muzzle of the gun downwards without resistance.

"You're a good man Angus Sinclair, but the illness has taken you away from yourself," she said putting her arms around him and cuddling him.

He collapsed against her sobbing and she held him like a small child while Daphne looked on.

"It's all right now, baby, you're just tired. You did fine," the Mistress said soothingly.

The two women gently helped Angus to his feet and escorted him from the room leaving me alone.

"Nice job," Miriam's voice came from the darkness.

"How long have you been here?" I asked controlling my surprise.

"About an hour," she said stepping into view. She was wearing her black latex catsuit and a small backpack, and holding a night vision helmet in her hand. "The Mistress called us when the power went out using her cell phone. It took us awhile to scale the mountain and get into the castle drainage system."

"And the lab?"

"Almost didn't make it. The Mistress deliberately got caught by Angus to get him out of our way. We've got the samples, and copies of all the data. They're already on the way to Hereford for analysis. Incidentally, we pulled the main switch to keep the lights from coming back on while we were working."

"Sneaky buggers," I said.

"I learned from the best," she said and faded back into the darkness.

"Who are you talking to?" Daphne asked as she and the Mistress walked back into the room.

"Oh just one of the ghosts," I said lightly and literally as the lights came back on.

"With her head tucked underneath her arm?" the Mistress asked.

"In her hand actually," I replied serenely.

Daphne sat back down in front of the chessboard again and looked at the Mistress and I then shook her head slowly.

"You two aren't with a bank are you, you're some kind of secret agents," she said quietly

"Our work uses a lot of the same tools as intelligence agencies," the Mistress said with a warning look at me.

"Michael said you know about my running the company in place of my father. What else do you know?" Daphne asked.

"We know you have a double agent on your staff that has an interest in a competing company, and is in fact having an affair with a relative of another member of your staff," the Mistress replied.

"And what are you going to do with that information?" Daphne asked warily.

"Nothing, why? Do you think we should?" I asked with a glance at the Mistress.

"Then why are you telling me this?" Daphne persisted.

"Your father's work has military applications, especially as a weapon. It would be in the best interests of everyone if the research softly and silently vanished away like the boojum." the Mistress explained.

"I don't understand. He's working on hormonal stimulation of the immune system for antiviral effects. He did work at Pordon Down years ago, but he retired and hasn't done any kind of military work in years. I will admit that what he's working on is not truly a vaccine, I'll admit we've lied about that, but military applications?"

"We've lied to you too. The samples we collected, do show a toxin, potentially fatal to men and will cause sterility in women," The Mistress confessed.

" The newspaper report." Daphne said. "About the sterile animals."

"Yes," I confirmed. "We can't be the only ones who know about it. I suspect your double agent was going to leak a report after we extended the financing to your company knowing we'd have to withdraw it, and bankrupting you. Then he or she could buy up your patents for next to nothing."

"The son of a bitch", Daphne ground out between clenched teeth.

"That may be one of the kinder things to be said about that person," I agreed.

"Show me your report and let me run my own tests and then I'll decide if the data should be destroyed," Daphne countered.

The discussion was disrupted by tone of a cell phone ring. The Mistress took it from her pocket and answered it. She listened for a moment and then closed it.

"You don't really have a choice Daphne," the Mistress said looking at her watch and pointing towards the window that overlooked the valley.

"What do you mean by that?" Daphne said turning towards the indicated direction.

There was a flash in the distance that wasn't lightning followed by a muted rumble that wasn't thunder.

"It seems that there was an accident at the lab," the Mistress said calmly. "But don't worry, your insurance will cover it very well. In fact with a bonus for having taken additional precautions to safeguard the rest of the laboratory."

Daphne took a sharp breath and started to speak as there was another explosion that shook the room and knocked the pictures from the walls.

"What an odd coincidence, another accident," the Mistress continued. "I'd have the foundations looked at if I were you. That explosion probably didn't help them much."

"You bitch," Daphne spat. "You planned this all along."

"Not that you could prove, even if I had. I would like to say there is a silver lining to this cloud; Your company just earned a hundred million dollar investment from the Bank," the Mistress continued unperturbed. "Who knows you might still yet cure the common cold, but without destroying the world in the process."

"You're going to invest the money anyway?" Daphne asked in confusion. "Without a product?"

"Why not? Your company is a good investment for the Bank, although I might suggest a few changes in your senior staff, perhaps a new director of research as an example. I happen to know of a well qualified applicant for the job."

"I'll just bet you do," Daphne said bitterly. "Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then I accept."

There was quite a flurry of news stories concerning the lab over the next few days with the story of the fire at the lab soon being replaced by the announcement of the resignation of the Director of Research and the press release committing one hundred million dollars in credit to the company following in short order.

Saphra kept her position at the lab to keep a discreet eye on things as well as work on her own doctoral research and Daphne announced the official retirement of her father for health reasons.

Convincing Wallace to fund the project in light of the incident at the lab as well as the revelation that they didn't have a real product at the time was quite a task in itself.

The Mistress however stood her ground and Wallace backed down although not without extracting a pound of flesh of his own to wit, the Mistress was committed to handling all of the social and public relations duties for the Bank wherever and whenever needed.

"And I mean anywhere Minkin, be it London, New York or Rome. If I want you there, you go," Wallace warned.

"As you wish Father," she replied calmly. "I believe you told me you didn't want me, as you put it traipsing around the world, only a short time ago."

He grimaced.

"It wasn't my idea, but your Mother's. She reminded me that at some point you'll take over from me, and that a certain amount of public exposure would be wise. But I can't help feeling that every time you agree with me gracefully I'm making a mistake of some kind."

"How sharper than a serpents tooth...", the Mistress stared to quote.

"Spare me Minkin. Michael, I don't honestly know how you do it," Wallace said addressing me.

"Do what?"

"Deal with her moods."

I smiled.

"Practice makes perfect."

"Indeed."

As to the Mistress and I, I did return to the Bank to assist the Earl of Stanley and the Mistress devoted herself to other pursuits such as art and music all in the name of public relations for the Bank.

As to her resignation from Ay'esha it was rejected out of hand by Dr. Ruth and the Matriarchs in special session. Instead it was decided to place her and I on inactive duty status, subject to recall in an emergency.

"The world is in great danger and every moment counts. Only you, Captain Invincible, can prevent this terrible catastrophe," I quoted. "Is that about the level we're discussing?"

"Michael," the Mistress warned.

"It's all right Minkin. He's right in spirit. The both of you will still be expected to report anything you think the Daughters should know, but you won't be acting on it directly. Michael ,your position at the Bank will become even more important with your Mistress not being in day to day control of things. This is a problem that can be corrected in the future, but for right now you're our man on the scene."

"I'll do my best," I promised.

"Neither of us expects anything less," the Mistress interjected.

"So it's settled then," Dr. Ruth summarized. "Minkin, you and Michael are now both on inactive duty, subject to emergency recall."

"Uh, one question Ma'am. What about the Diaries?" I asked.

Dr. Ruth looked at me owlishly.

"What about them Michael?" she prompted.

"Can I keep writing them?"

"Why not? I'm sure you still have a lot of stories to tell and I've noticed some gaps in the tales myself, so you can focus on filling the holes if nothing else."

"Thank you."

"Just make sure I see them first," the Mistress warned. "I have a reputation to protect."

"Of course. Have I ever embarrassed you in print?" I asked.

"No, and there won't be a first time either."

And so far... there hasn't.

Chapter 30 Sections 1 to 3

Flying Home
The Stately Homes Of England
Donald Where's Your Trousers?