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as he stepped his one foot onto the rocky surface beneath him, it started to snow. A tremble ran through Mr. Garman. He should have come more prepared, but with such short notice and humanity at stake, he did not have time to grab his winter coat. Approaching the house, he admired the steps up to the wraparound porch. They were hand carved with intricate engravings and were accented with metal railings shaped in the form of horses galloping. He adjusted his neck tie and suit jacket and proceeded to knock firmly on the heavy oak front door.

A man, by the name of Myles, opened the door, wide-eyed and obviously not expecting visitors. “Hello,” said the confused man. “You must be Mr. Garman. I was not expecting you for a few more hours.”

Mr. Garman resisted a shiver. “Yes, yes I am. You must be Myles.” Myles waved, ushering Mr. Garman over the threshold. The cabin was spacious and had several trinquet-like decorations flooding the walls and shelves. It reminded Mr. Garman of his home. In the center of the home was a woodburner, working furiously to heat the cozy living room and the other surrounding areas.

Myles gestured toward a plaid, cushioned couch, ushering Mr. Garman to sit. He began, “I was surprised to receive your call. No one has ever asked me about Bat’s cane. I wish I had better news for you. I tried to reach you before you left for Billings, but you must have been able to get on a flight right away.”

Mr. Garman’s facial expression noticeably changed into a frown of disappointment at this statement. “The bottom line is,” Myles continued, “I have never had his cane and I am not sure where that rumor started.” Mr. Garman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Did he just waste all of this time flying to Billings, Montana when he could have been working on a plan to save all of humanity? Myles realized the shocked expression of the old man sitting across from him and swiftly began to explain. “Bat was buried with that cane, Mr. Garman.” Myles saw Mr. Garman sink into the big plaid cushion he was seated in. “If it will help, he is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in New York City, New York.” Mr. Garman’s blue eyes became full of color again and Myles continued to explain. “It is in the Bronx, I believe. I realize that you probably could have used this information sooner, but there was no way to get a hold of you.” Mr. Garman stood, his pep in his step returning, and thanked Myles for his information. Before turning to leave, Myles stopped him. He asked in a low voice, “I have something exceedingly difficult to ask you, Mr. Garman.” The old man stood in the center of the living room with a puzzled look creeping across his face. Mr. Garman strolled slowly over to the fireplace that was radiating the warmth of the burning wood and Myles followed, putting his foot on the hearth.

“Well,” said Mr. Garman, “Ask away.” The old man turned toward Myles as he began to speak, “I just need to know why you want to exhume Bat. Am I correct? That is what you plan to do?”

Nodding slowly, Mr. Garman confirmed the answer to Myles’s question. “Yes, Myles, you are correct. I am so sorry to even consider asking you. However, this is an emergency. A student of mine, Morgan King, whom you may have heard about, well, he experimented and it went really bad, with the Crisper Splice technology, which allows the manipulation of DNA.” Myles raised his eyebrows, quite curious about what Mr. Garman was going to say next. The scientist continued. “He had an experiment that went wrong and created a hybrid of hornets and humans. They are threatening everything in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park and then will move on to consume resources in other areas of the country. In order to stop the spread of the Hornet Queen and her drones, we will need a piece of the meteorite gemstone that resides under the gold tip of Bat’s precious cane.” Myles stood still in a state of shock. Mr. Garman was right, that was bad, really bad. He continued, “Somehow, Bat knew that he was in possession of an important gemstone.”

Myles said the only word he would say for about an hour, “Wow.” Neither man said anything for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Miles came out of his initial shock and addressed the stranger sitting in his living room. “Mr. Garman, I am unsure about disturbing Bat’s grave. I know it is important, however, you have no way to assure me that your plan is proven and sound. I will need 24 hours to think about this.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Mr. Garman spoke. “Myles, I understand your hesitation. May I phone you in the afternoon tomorrow once I arrive back to Akron?” Myles, looking significantly more comfortable with the fact that he was going to be given time to decide, nodded in approval.

Leading the man out the door, Myles began to speak. “Thank you for coming all the way from Akron. I realize the predicament you are in and I hope I can be of help.”

Mr. Garman gave a smile that did not reach his ears. “Thank you, Myles.” Mr. Garman drove away in quite the predicament. He was definitely not expecting the conversation to go like this. What was he to do now? He needed to get Myles to agree, or else humanity was doomed.

5

Peril and Discovery

Bitty and Freda were at Beaver Marsh, soaking in the sunny day and visiting their favorite beaver, Granny Mabel. She had once saved Freda’s Mom Pearl from a catastrophic accident that happened several years before. Granny Mabel told Bitty and Freda that she and all the creatures of the marsh knew that the Hornet Queen was alive with four of her drones. The old beaver went into detail about how all of

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