"What about this place?" Shalee cut in. "Does it give you the same feeling?"

Sam took a long look around before he responded. "No ... this place doesn't ring a bell. I'm still at a loss. I'm sure I've never read anything about it. Let's just keep moving."

Shalee looked at George and frowned as the manipulator shrugged.

The group moved behind the statue and noticed a quiver of arrows in easy reach over the man's right shoulder. The quiver was tucked close to the right side of his neck and angled toward his left hip.

Sitting on the base of the statue, near the man's feet, was a round object that sat cradled on a golden dragon's back. No larger than a basketball, the sphere had been formed from a gem or some type of crystal. It had a blue-white glow and a rough surface. As they looked closer, they noticed the object looked more like a small planet of some sort. More accurately, it seemed to resemble a moon more than it resembled a habitable world. Though it was clearly made of a different material than the rest of the statue, it blended.

The platform beneath the man's feet was at least eight feet in diameter and had smooth edges. An inscription started at its top and circled around and around until it ended near the floor.

Shalee and George looked at the inscription and then at each other. Once again, George shrugged. Sam, on the other hand, found a starting point and circled the statue.

"What are you doing?" George queried.

"I'm reading," Sam replied with an indignant roll of his eyes.

George shook his head. "What do you mean, you're reading? You can understand the chicken scratch on this stupid thing?"

"There's nothing stupid about it. It's quite simple," Sam retorted while laying his hands across the markings. "Every language has a pattern, and I recognize these symbols." The doctor paused. "They're just familiar."

George slapped the top of his forehead. "Here we go again with the familiar thing. Are you some sort of freak?"

Sam laughed. "Like I've never heard that before." He paused and refocused. "Okay, okay. Let's take a closer look. This can't be any harder than the 16 other languages I learned."

"Holy c.r.a.p, man! You know 16 languages?" George blurted. "I think you're full of c.r.a.p. I bet you can fart the alphabet, too. Where in the h.e.l.l would you find time to learn them all?"

"My father made me learn them during my summer vacation when I was nine," Sam answered, acting as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, as if anyone could do it. "But I haven't mastered methane verbalization."

George's jaw dropped. "Okay, Sheldon."

"Goodness-gracious," Shalee added. "I love that show, George." A moment later, she pointed at Sam. "Oh my, I know who you are! If memory serves me right, you're the kid who was all over the news. I remember because we've got the same birthday. We're both 23, right?"

Sam nodded. "Sure, if yours is April 3rd."

A wide smile appeared on Shalee's face. "How fun is this? It is April 3rd. I was impressed when I watched the news and learned how all your languages were self-taught. I remember thinking how lucky you were to be going into your last year of high school when I was nine. I didn't even get through the fourth grade before you graduated. My teachers made quite the fuss about you. They talked about you all the time. They told us we could be just as smart as you if we applied ourselves."

Shalee would have continued to ramble, but George interrupted. "Oh, shut up! So what ... he's smart. Don't get too excited, or you'll have to swim your way out of here."

At that, Sam turned. The fighter walked up to George and got in his face. "I don't know who you are, nor do I care, but if you talk to her like that again when I'm around, I'll have a few things to say about it ... and I don't mean verbally. Women are to be respected. Didn't your mother teach you anything?"

George threw his hands in the air and backed up. "I feel you, stud. I feel you. I'll do a check-up from the neck up. h.e.l.l, I've got the same birthday as you do, too. I know who you are, Mr. High Society. Maybe I should jump on the Sam bandwagon, too."

George turned and walked toward the doors and thought, I remember the news. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter, Mr. Smart, Rich a.s.s. Life has been a breeze for you. Try living a day in my shoes, you holier-than-thou freak.

Annoyed with George's antics, Shalee turned to face Sam. "So ... don't you think it's kind of cool we all have the same birthday? Weird, huh? I'm pretty sure I look younger than you though," she added with a wink.

Sam studied Shalee's face. "You do look young, but how could we possibly decipher if having the same date of birth is a coincidence?" He turned to face the statue.

Shalee paused to digest Sam's response. "I suppose you're right." She watched as Sam started to move his fingers along the markings. "So what does it say? Is there anything I can do to help?" she questioned. "I'm fairly smart."

With a low, calm voice, Sam responded. "Unless you have a pen and a piece of paper, I'm going to have to figure this one out on my own. I need to study the patterns. I've seen many of these markings in my dreams. It's as if it's a language I've already learned. I can read most of this."

After about an hour, Sam pointed and spoke. "The symbols tell a tale of this man's victory. It talks about how he brought home the power to control the worlds the G.o.ds lost. I'm not sure if I'm following it all, but it appears this power keeps the planets they created from colliding into one another."

Sam pointed to a specific symbol and began moving his finger along a path. "It says here, in a rough translation anyway, there are five planets of equal ma.s.s rotating around a single sun. They travel in different orbits, yet they're all the same distance from this sun and can support life. It names each of them, but I'm not sure I know their proper p.r.o.nunciation."

Sam paused. "The power to control the worlds was used to provide the separation the worlds need to keep from colliding."

George interrupted, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. You said that already. Move on already, will you?"

Sam took a deep breath. His patience with George was wearing thin. Despite his irritation, Sam remained calm. "The benefit of this power allows each world to support life. In short, the power acts as a governor and monitors every function necessary to ensure this is possible.

"This crystal sphere, the one sitting on the statue's base, is the source of this power. The crystal was lost in a G.o.d war, and it was this man who retrieved it and returned it to the G.o.ds.

"Apparently, he was rewarded for this. The deities who gave him his reward are called, if I'm reading this right, the Farendrite Collective." Sam frowned. "I can't recall learning about them in what I've studied. I also don't know how many G.o.ds form the Collective, but the writing does allude to more than one."

Sam stopped and brushed his fingers along three of the symbols. "It looks like this man's name is Ba.s.sorine, but I don't see a last name."

Shalee's brows furrowed. "What was that name again ... Ba.s.s-o-reen?"

Sam grinned. "No ... you butchered it pretty badly. Try and say it like this ... Ba-sore-in."

"Huh! Sounds the same to me," Shalee reb.u.t.ted.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Let's just keep going, shall we?" He pointed to another set of symbols. "This part of the inscription talks about a prophecy. A group, two men and a woman, will be called upon to recover the pieces of the Crystal Moon." He paused in thought as he studied the orb on the dragon's back. "This must be the sphere's name."

Again, Sam paused. "Anyway, two of the three will fight to recover the pieces of the crystal, and one will fall by the wayside." His brow furrowed. "That's odd. It doesn't say anything more about what happens to this third person."

Shaking off his irritation at the lack of information, Sam continued. "To clarify, the two remaining will be asked to retrieve the pieces of the Crystal Moon before life is destroyed and the worlds collide. If the pieces are not reunited, the planets' orbits will decay and start to shift. Chaos will ensue.

"But there does appear to be hope. If the pieces are retrieved quickly enough and brought together to re-form the Crystal Moon, disaster will be averted, and there will be a reward. Huh ... it also says something about races. Apparently, the races of the new worlds will be given permission to live together on any world they choose."

George cut in. "What the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. According to the inscription, allowing the races to be joined is a big deal. Supposedly, the success of the two retrieving the pieces of the Crystal Moon will somehow prove to the G.o.ds that the races can get along." Puzzled, Sam scratched his head. "I'm not sure how two people going after pieces of crystal would prove this, but that's what it says."

Sam looked back down at the markings. "The way it is now, only certain races are allowed to live on specific planets. It doesn't explain what it means by races. So I can only a.s.sume they're similar to what we know."

Changing direction, Sam scratched the top of his head again. "Without a way to reference a date, I can't determine how old the statue is. There is something rather interesting here at the bottom though. It says the group is to awaken the statue and receive instruction to start on the path of their new destinies. Call me crazy, but it feels like it's referring to us."

"What do you mean, 'our' destinies?" George barked in a sarcastic tone. "Do you actually believe this c.r.a.p? It could be referring to anyone, not us. I think it's vain to think we're the group it's talking about."

The jerk threw his hands in the air. "I don't think any of us wants to be the one who falls by the wayside. Doesn't that mean death or something tragic? I sell RVs and boats for a living for h.e.l.l's sake. I'm not a part of any prophecy. Tell him, Shalee. You've got to feel me, right?"

Shalee looked at George, then at Sam. "I kind of agree. This does seem pretty weird. I'm just an architect, and I can't fathom being part of a prophecy. But..." she hesitated, "but how fun would it be, even if only for a little while, to do something different for a change? I mean, don't you ever..." She shuffled her feet. "Don't you ever want to be a part of something larger than yourself? What if...? What if it's...?"

George exploded. "You've got to be kidding me! You're nuts! I must still be sleeping!" He turned to Sam. "I've officially met my first genius, and you're pathetic. How could you be so off in the head? Wait, I know ... it's because of everything that's crammed in that brain of yours."

George turned to Shalee. "And you take the cake! You're buying into this crock! I knew blondes were-"

Sam interrupted, "You finish that sentence, and I'll break you in half! I never said I bought into any of this, and neither did Shalee. She simply said it would be fun to be a part of something different. I think she means she wants to be a part of something important."

George threw his hands up and walked off. "Whatever!"

Sam shook his head in disgust, turned, and started to pace. "Okay, okay." He took another deep breath to collect his composure. "Let me think this through for a minute. A better plan is in order."

George returned to the group. "You're right. Let's just chill for a bit. We won't get anywhere if we don't work together. I was wrong to get upset. So I apologize. What are we going to do now?"

Shalee smiled and accepted the apology. She also acknowledged the need to keep clear heads. Turning to Sam, she said, "Well ... it's sort of looking like you're the brains of this here operation. I happen to be all ears." Shalee grinned flirtatiously as she put her right hand on Sam's left shoulder.

George rolled his eyes. "Can we get on with the brainstorming? You guys can get a room later."

Shalee blushed and pulled her hand away. "Yes. Let the brainstorming begin."

"Okay, okay. Let's look at this logically," Sam said as he studied the inscription. "We have in front of us a puzzle, it seems. 'Awakening the statue' must be a metaphor. At least I hope it's a metaphor."

"What the h.e.l.l do you mean by 'hope?'" George sneered, forgetting about the fact that he had just apologized. "You actually believe this thing will come to life? Are you seriously that twisted?"

Before addressing George, Sam examined the statue again. "I'm not twisted, but something is telling me we aren't in Kansas anymore."

"What?" George roared. "What the h.e.l.l does Kansas have to do with anything, Captain Cliche? Speak up, Dorothy."

Sam frowned as he glared at George.

Shalee took a step back and waited for the altercation.

George held up his hands. "Look ... I'm sorry. I'm listening."

Sam took a deep breath and then turned his attention back to the statue. "I know it won't literally come to life, George, but maybe it will produce some sort of message that will give us a few answers."

George rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "At least the d.a.m.n statue would be more interesting to listen to if it did wake up."

With Shalee on Sam's heels, the genius circled the statue. George looked back and forth from Sam to the bronze man as he waited for the next big revelation.

"There's only one thing that's not like the others," Sam announced. "I'm sure you remember the jingle. 'One of these things is not like the others. Can you tell which one?'"

George's jaw dropped. "Are you for real? Did you just sing a Sesame Street song? What the h.e.l.l ... a genius singing Sesame Street? What a treat. Why would a guy with your intelligence watch such a ridiculous show? Better yet, why are you stupid enough to let us know you did?"

The hall fell silent as Sam struggled to keep his composure. After another deep breath, he responded. "Okay, okay. It's like this, idiot. I didn't watch the show. I preferred the Science Channel while I was growing up. The kids who come into my office watch it while they sit in the waiting room. I'm sure you know what a medical office is. You know, a place with a 300 gallon fish tank, 60 inch flat screen for patients to watch, cozy chairs that cushion the most sensitive of a.s.ses, and actual doctors that walk the halls and converse like they have a brain." He captured George's eyes. "You know, a place where doctors solve complex medical issues. Oh, oh! And we're looking for a janitor. You should apply. You can use my name as a reference. I own the joint, so I pull a lot of weight there."

"Ha!" George scoffed as he ignored much of Sam's retort. "Sure, blame it on the kids. You expect me to believe you're a doctor? I bet Big Bird will be happy to hear you're on call. How about I tell the Cookie Monster to help you with your rounds? I bet Oscar the Grouch has a stethoscope you could borrow, and you could use it to listen to the fish."

George looked at Shalee. "Dr. Sam is going to save us all. My h.e.l.l." He looked back at Sam. "Make your point, Doogie Howser. What were you going to say about your stupid, little song?"

Shalee took another step back, unsure how Sam would react to George's a.s.sault.

Sam clenched his fists. It took all he had not to punch George. After a second thought, he changed his mind and drilled the jerk on the upper part of his right arm. "Shut up, and stop being an a.s.s!" he hollered.

George grabbed his arm after landing on the floor. "d.a.m.n it, man! That freaking hurt! Sorry! c.r.a.p! Just stop already!"

Sam turned toward the statue without saying another word. He calmed himself by taking three, deep breaths. After a minute, he continued. "Okay, okay. The statue of this man, his wolf, and the base they're standing on, all look to be made of bronze. The one thing that's different is this crystal ball and the dragon that cradles it."

Sam pointed to the orb. "Look. If you get closer, you can see the crystal has creases, almost as if it has been put together." Sam counted the pieces. "I see five, and since the sphere is made of a different material than the rest of the statue, maybe that's where we should focus our attention."

Hearing Sam's logic, George stood and walked past him. He lifted himself onto the base of the statue, wincing from the pain in his arm. "d.a.m.n you, man. My arm almost gave out. This better not bruise, or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Sam snapped.

George stared at the fighter. It was not long before he thought better of the confrontation. He turned and looked down at the crystal. "Let's find out if you're right, you big bully. Let's take it with us. I bet it's worth something." He bent over and reached for one of the pieces.

"Wait," Sam responded.

It was too late. George had already grabbed the piece closest to him and separated it from the rest. Before a word of chastis.e.m.e.nt could be uttered, the other four pieces of the sphere vanished, leaving George holding the remaining piece.

"Holy c.r.a.p, man! Did you see that? The d.a.m.n thing just disappeared. Now what?"

Shalee grabbed Sam's arm and moved behind him. She felt the need to do something, but she had no idea what that something was. She could not explain it, but she knew they were in for a ride.

Sam removed Shalee's hands, but allowed her to stay behind him. He turned back to George. "Get down from there!"

Before George could take a step, the statue began to shake. The floor beneath opened, and the base of the statue tumbled into the darkness, taking George with it.

"George!" Sam shouted as he watched the jerk disappear into the darkness beyond the mouth of the hole. All that was left behind was the bronze man and the wolf, floating in air.

The fighter paused for only a second before he took action. First, he turned to Shalee and motioned for her to move to the other side of the hall. She went without hesitation, her pink slippers making scuffling noises as she hurried across the floor.

Second, Sam turned to face the floating remains. The floor had reappeared, and now, both the man and his wolf were made of flesh. "So much for metaphors," Sam muttered under his breath.

Having been caught in many stressful situations due to his fighting and medical careers, Sam remained focused, despite Shalee's screaming in the background. Okay, okay. They're asleep, he a.s.sessed. But they could wake, and what if they're a threat? A moment later, he made a rash decision. Two against one isn't fair odds. I should dispose of the wolf first.

Sam darted across the room, grabbed the wolf by its hind legs, ripped it out of the air, and slammed the beast onto the floor. The animal woke. It tried to bite Sam's arm, but missed. Sam was forced to let go to avoid its sharp teeth.

The beast jumped to its feet and prepared to attack.

Sam's mind took over, running the scene in slow motion as he prepared for the predator's next move.

The wolf charged, leaping at the doctor's throat.

Sam stepped to his right. As the beast pa.s.sed, the fighter used his fist to deliver a crushing right hand to the left side of the wolf's neck. His four-legged adversary landed and howled as it turned for another attack.

Sam studied his opponent, his mind searching for weak points. But with all his knowledge, he did not know the creature's anatomy like he did a man's. The best way to defeat the wolf would be to get it by the throat and squeeze the life out of it. He grinned and thought, Easier said than done.

The wolf made three more pa.s.ses. Each time, Sam managed to avoid the attack and hit the beast on some part of its body. After the fourth pa.s.s, Shalee reached down, removed the bunny slipper from her left foot and whipped it across the hall, striking the wolf on the end of its snout.

The beast turned and gave Shalee an "Oh no you didn't" look and then growled. It had a new target now.

Sam tried to regain the creature's attention, but the wolf was already moving in Shalee's direction, slowly at first, and then it broke into a run.