Part the Third: Something in the Works…

Knives were the answer. Knives or coins; he was relatively sure the translation was one of the two. And the key of course, whatever it was, it had to be a key. But there were always two, weren’t there? And at least one had to be wrong. Like she had been. It shouldn’t take a genius to realize that wood didn’t hold out much chance against so much rock. Unfortunately for her, it was the rock that had taken the genius.
In the fifteen minutes that had passed since the last great revelation of the previous coffee break had been exhausted as a viable option to try in these circumstances, things did not look positive. The problem was the lack of evidence. That and the heat, no one could concentrate in this kind of heat. It was probably why so little was getting done. Not a lack of evidence at all, despite there being one.
Ten more seconds, that was all she would have needed, but the struts just wouldn’t hold. It was just as inevitable as trying to make a migraine go away by thinking about it a lot. Come to think of it, the migraine was probably making his life harder as well. He couldn’t blame himself, it wasn’t his fault, nor was there anything to be done at that point. But he was the only one he could blame, no one else was responsible for her. But she was gone, and nothing could bring her back now.
The key. Knives, lots of them everywhere, but which was the right one. Clues? No obvious ones, nothing highlighted, nothing eye-catching about any of them. How about coins then? There was only a single image of a coin in the room, it just had to be it. Interestingly, a slight serration on its edge seemed not too different from what one might find in a regular house key, except for it being in a circular formation.
But if he now had the key, where was the lock? And what lay behind it. Why was he even searching? He had no idea what he may find, that was why. Adventure. The whole point of searching, of discovery even, was adventure. Of course fame, riches and beautiful women helped too, but adventure was the driving force, it had to be. Beautiful women like her, poor her. Such a shame, such a waste, and why? Well, because of adventure.
But none of that mattered now, it was all irrelevant next to the rising water… And the scorpions, where did they come from?