Two Sides To Go - conclusion

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

I know it's taken me awhile to finish this story, my apologies.  I hope you enjoy the peculiarities, it was how the muse led me.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

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The first obstacle to getting inside the dig was a big dog that had been tied to the fence post on the backside of the property.  As Illya approached, it barred its teeth and began to growl as though the blond were an appetizer waiting to be consumed.

"You are a ridiculous creature, now be quiet."  Amazingly the dog responded, more because of the bacon in Illya's hand than anything the Russian said to him.

Having made a friend, Kuryakin shimmied over the fence, patting the now friendly dog as he passed.  Stopping in mid-stride, he returned to give the dog another slice of bacon, thus insuring their friendship for at least as long as it might take to investigate the site.

What Illya came upon first made him stop and look twice.  This was no archeological dig, there were precious stones everywhere he looked.

"Napoleon… are you there?"  Non-plussed by this unusual find, Illya was anxious to report this new development.

"Illya?  What's up?"

''The dig is full of … it is full of diamonds.  I suspect that the icon is actually a map of some sort, although why they have put it on display is beyond me.  There is a fortune in gemstones here, most of them diamonds."

Napoleon looked at his communicator as though it would help him to better understand what his partner was telling him.  Diamonds, here in this little podunk town?

"Okay, what do you suggest?  I mean, it isn't illegal to mine for stones, so … I mean, what exactly can we do about this?

Illya was just as perplexed, but there had to be an angle to this.  He started to pick up one of the gems, but decided it best to not disturb the site and instead returned to the point at which he had come into the yard, giving the dog yet another piece of bacon before climbing over the fence.  When he met Napoleon at their agreed upon spot, the two men backed up to a tree, and in one fluid, solitary movement, slid down onto their haunches to try and figure out their next move.

"Do you remember what that icon has on the front of it?" Napoleon was trying to find an angle to all of this.  THRUSH using a diamond field to gain some economic footing was not surprising, except for the existence of the field itself.  Certainly the townspeople knew of such an extraordinary thing as this.

"I shall need to go into the courthouse and examine it more closely.  At this point I am thinking perhaps it was placed there as a way to direct others… or … ' A sigh of exasperation was all Illya could produce at this point.  Napoleon shared the frustration his partner was experiencing.  This was a strange situation, even for THRUSH.

The UNCLE agents walked back into town, emerging from a stand of trees that provided shade across the courthouse lawn.  Illya headed inside, taking the steps two at a time, anxious to get a look at the copper icon that had started all of this.  Napoleon took a seat on a time worn bench, nodding affably when an old man approached and sat down beside him.

"Afternoon."  The greeting was abbreviated, accompanied by a snaggletoothed smile.  The man looked to be well into his eighties, at least by Napoleon's estimation."

"Good afternoon.  You have a nice little town here, mister…?"  Napoleon intended to try and pry some information out of this old fellow, if at all possible.

"Yessir, Stoneyville's been home to me and mine for nigh on a hundred years."  Napoleon whistled at that, appreciative of the longevity involved.

"That's about as far back as the town goes, isn't it?  What brought your family to um… these parts?"  Using the local vernacular wasn't as easy as it might seem, and Napoleon did not wish to offend the old man.

"Why, I reckon it was the trail that brung 'em, young man.' He winked as he said it, eliciting a smile from Napoleon. "Nah, it was the jewels.  Word got 'round to lots of folks that there was a field of sparkly stones in this little valley, and that's how the  whole place got started.  Stoneyville is named for them stones, or jewels if you like."  That made sense, although there was little evidence of wealth that might be attributed to such a rich cache of diamonds and other precious gems.

"So, did people mine for them, or…?"  The old man laughed at that, slapping his knee as though especially delighted by the other man's comment.

"You city slickers are all alike, figurin' that it's about the money.  No, we just like knowin' they're out there.  The little 'uns dig 'em up on Easter, but mostly we just let 'em lie out there and sparkle.  Yessir, that's  our way."

Napoleon was completely flabbergasted at this revelation.  So, THRUSH had become aware of the diamond field, and now were passing off their theft of the town's literal birthright as an archeological dig.  The icon in the courthouse was simply a diversionary tactic, to make the locals believe that something else was in the ground besides their sparkly stones.

Illya was suddenly standing beside the two men on the bench, his approach not seen by either of them.

'Oh, Illya… um, please meet …" The old man looked up into the face of the Russian, smiling at the serious looking blond haired man.

"Hello there young feller.  My goodness, your eyes look like some of the  sparkly stones out in our special field.  I bet the girls go all a twitter over the blue of 'em."  Illya looked puzzled, his gaze darting from the old man to Napoleon who merely shook his head.

"Thank you, I think.  What do you mean your special field?  Are you aware of what's going on out there?" Surely someone had protested the presence of THRUSH's bogus archeological intrusion.  The old man grinned again, removing his hat and wiping the inside of it with his faded handkerchief.

"Them fellers won't get anything out of our field.  Like I told your friend here, only the children carry out the stones. If anyone else tries, well… "  He tsked and shook his head, setting the old straw hat back atop his weathered head.

"What?  What happens if someone tries to remove a stone?"  Illya needed an explanation, and in an instantaneous moment of revelation, each of the men from UNCLE realized that they hadn't actually seen anyone from THRUSH since coming into this little town.

"Sir, please explain what you meant.  We came here to stop the group who set up shop over in your field.  What happened to them?"  Napoleon had a strange feeling about all of this, and about this old man.  Suddenly serious, the man whose name had never been shared during this conversation, stood up and straightened, allowing for old bones to settle into place.  He looked hard at each of the two men, squared his shoulders and began a narrative that neither of them would soon forget.

"In 1863, after the war broke out, a group of settlers arrived here in Stoneyville; we were trying to escape the war, both sides of it.  This little valley provided a shelter from all of that craziness, and neither Union nor Confederate soldiers ever stepped foot here.  We were protected, and we had our field of sparkly stones.  A lot of people believed that it kept us from being discovered, and maybe that's the truth.   Every person who lives here was born here, and none have ever left."

That didn't make sense to Illya.  He was doing the math, and in a hundred years the population should have increased beyond what they could see now.

"Then where is everyone?  There aren't enough people here to fit into your description of births and … ' He paused, took in a big breath before continuing. "Sir, how old are you?"

"I am one hundred and twenty-eight years old.  I was one of the original settlers here.  We had forty-five people when we arrived, and there have been sixty-eight births.  A few people tried to take stones out of the field, but they never made it out, turned into one of them sparkly gems before they could get outside whatever defines the boundary.  Only the children were able to pick up a stone and carry it out, but not past the age of twelve.  We found that out the hard way, a tragedy that haunts us still."

Napoleon was disbelieving.  He'd seen strange things in his days with UNCLE, but this…  Preposterous.  It could not possibly be true.

"Are you telling me that living here grants you long life, that the field of stones … takes lives if people steal from it?  Where … I mean… how…?"   He was flummoxed beyond words.

"Young man, I don't know how and I  for certain don't know why.  All I know is that it is, and we are living proof of it.  Those fellers that came here to rob from us, they're all scattered among the field now, sparklin' like the rest of them stones.  Our children are all growed up now, and we don't expect any of them will be leavin'. This is where we live and die,   even if it does take us longer than most folks.  And as for that field out there, I can't explain it to you,  I can only tell you that you don't want to ever pick up one of them stones, for sure as I'm standin' here, you won't leave there if you do."

Napoleon and Illya exchanged looks that were not easily decipherable to the casual observer.  The story was ludicrous, the evidence not entirely absent.  There were indeed no sign of THRUSH anywhere, and the townsfolk did have a peculiar affect, as though they had been isolated from the rest of the world.

"Let's get out of here Illya.  I think our work is done."  Illya agreed, although his curiosity made leaving without additional information even more keen.

"How exactly is this report going to look, I wonder.  Sparkly field holds power of life and death?"  Napoleon bowed his head slightly.  Always a report, but not always an adequate explanation for the contents of that report.

They bid the old man a hearty goodbye, thanking him for his narration and the warning.  The icon in the courthouse would remain there, it held no secrets, no special powers.  It was simply a copper icon stolen from a band of gypsies.  He wondered if THRUSH would send more men,  and whether or not  the warning would be shared with them.  Had these townspeople somehow known that THRUSH meant to deceive them?  Too many questions.

As Illya and Napoleon packed their belongings, they were both quiet, contemplating the day's remarkable revelation.  So engrossed in their own thoughts were they that they never saw the glint of a reflection coming through the peephole in that little painting above the dresser.

Perhaps the two old ladies in the next room weren't quite as reformed as one might hope.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Whoa! What an intriguing twist. Is this the conclusion?

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

That's what it says at the top ;) And thank you :D

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Doh! A Homer Simpson moment...

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Illya almost picked up one of them? Yikes;could have been bad. Would he have turned into a sapphire with his blue eyes?

I think you've gone over to the dark side with this one, my friend. It has X-Files overtones. Nice ending to this most enjoyable tale. I KNEW those little old ladies wouldn't give up their peeping Tom ways. Who can blame them with two good-looking spies in the next room?