May 2004 - Philadelphia
Riley is quiet the whole way to Philadelphia. Ben and Annoying Lady are too busy arguing to notice. Ben asks once if he's too tired to drive, but Riley says he's fine (and he is; he slept on the couch at Milliways for two nights before coming back here, but he can't exactly say that) and Ben goes right back to trying to convince Abigail that what he had done was the right thing to do.
Riley doesn't listen to them; even he can see it's a lost cause, and maybe if he didn't feel so numb, he might be a little more amused that Ben is trying so hard. He just drives with one hand on the wheel and the elbow of his other arm propped up on the edge of the door, resting his head against his hand. The wind roars in through the shattered driver's side window, especially once they hit I-95 and traffic speeds up, and it is a constant cold blast in Riley's face, chilling his hands. He pulls his sweatshirt hood over his head and tugs down his blazer's sleeves, and he keeps driving on autopilot, dispassionately watching the white lights flash past in the darkness.
Ben's dad doesn't seem like a very nice guy. He's wrapped in a bathrobe, hair messed up and his glasses perched precariously on his nose when he answers the door. He isn't happy to have the three of them (three, ha, it should be two; Riley offered up the duct tape in the back of the van for Abigail, but he got shot down) turn up on his doorstep late at night in the Philly suburb.
His first question after Ben says he's in trouble is "Is she pregnant?" with a nod at Abigail.
Abigail looks slightly offended. Riley shakes his head when she asks if she looks like she is, but he's smiling a little on the inside.
Still, Ben's dad does let them in. The house is small, warm, cluttered; there are all kinds of historical-looking gadgets and doodads. Riley only has eyes for the pizza box.
As he chews, he listens to Ben and his dad argue. Mr. Gates says the treasure doesn't exist; he wasted 20 years of his life searching for it and now Ben is doing the same. Ben disagrees. Maybe, Riley thinks contemplatively, pulling the long string of cheese into his mouth, he would agree with Mr. Gates. But Ben's been right so far and more importantly -- he believes in Ben. So he eats and he listens, and once Mr Gates has thrown up his hands and says he doesn't give a damn what Ben does, Ben's a grown man, Riley is pressed into service helping to set up the dining room table.
Ben explained the whole thing once and even an exasperated Abigail gave it a shot, but Riley still doesn't understand what it is they're doing. The table is covered in black trash bags, with Q-tips and a small bowl of lemons standing by. They all wear gloves; Ben and Abigail have fancy tight Latex ones, but Mr. Gates only had two pairs of those so Riley is wearing bright yellow kitchen gloves. The three of them lean over the table and Ben and Abigail carefully slide the Declaration out of its case and spread it out facedown on the table.
Ben's dad keeps popping in and asking questions, making them all nervous, but Riley doesn't mind so much; it's nice to have someone to talk to when Ben and Abigail basically only have eyes for each other. They're even finishing each other's sentences. For two people who profess to hate each other, it's sick. Mr. Gates even answers Riley's questions; he wants to know how they're supposed to see the map if it's invisible. Mr. Gates tells him higher sulfate inks can only be brought out with heat, whatever that means, and Ben talks his dad into leaving the room.
Ben and Riley are both surprised as hell when Abigail takes the lemon from Ben's hand and says she'll do it herself; that if this is going to happen, someone who is trained to handle antique documents is going to do it. She dabs gently at the upper righthand corner of the document, and when nothing appears, she and Ben exchange a glance, lean down and--looking at each other the entire time--both slowly blow on it.
Riley rolls his eyes and resists the urge to mutter something about vomiting.
But then -- something appears. Black writing appears, and all thoughts of puking are gone as the three of them stare at the map, then look excitedly at each other.
They need more lemons. They need more heat.
One blowdryer and two lemons later, they have ... something. A lot more black writing. Some numbers and stuff. Riley wants to know if it's latitude and longitude. For a moment, he feels like he came up with something pretty brilliant, but then Ben just shakes his head and says "That's why we need the Silence Dogood letters."
"That's the key?" asks Abigail, clearly surprised, and Riley is the only one here who just isn't getting it.
He asks again, and he's finally told that it's an andor cipher, an ander cypher, something like that. Each of the numbers corresponds to a letter in the key; the numbers represent the page number of the key text, the line on the page, and the letter in that line. Pretty simple, and when Ben turns to his dad to ask for the letters, it's with a face that shines with excitement.
Trouble is, Mr. Gates doesn't have the letters anymore.
He gave them to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia.
Well, says Ben, time to go. But then Mr. Gates gets close to the document and before any of them can stop him, he lifts it up to take a look at the front and -- oh shit.
Ben's dad says "oh my God" a lot. Also, things like, "This is the Declaration of Independence" and "You stole it?!" Riley is mildly worried that he might have a heart attack or something.
But then he calms down enough to say "And now you've pulled me into all of this."
Ben says, "Well, we can't have that," and so it is that Riley finds himself apologetically duct taping Ben Gates' father to a chair in his living room. Mr. Gates is resigned; just asks that he be put in front of the television with the remote control in one hand and a cup of soda with a straw in the other.
Riley does it, and with one last abashed apology, he takes the keys that Ben throws him and he and Abigail go out to start Mr. Gates' car that they're, uh, borrowing, and they leave the two Gates alone together for a few minutes. He eyes Abigail warily and leaves her alone so he can go out and moves the van; he parks it a few streets away, in front of a house that has a 'for sale' sign driven into its front lawn. Hopefully, that'll keep it from being found for a little while. His roommate's gonna kill him for the damage done to and now for abandoning his van, but that's the least of Riley's worries at the moment.
Ben and Abigail pick him up at the corner.
"Your dad's got a sweet ride," he says, once he's comfortably curled up in the backseat of the Cadillac Deville and they're on the road again.
Ben ignores him to make a comment about needing clothes, and their conspicuousness. Riley points out that they have no money. He didn't have much to begin with, and setting up that stupid clean room environment and paying for the supplies, the supplies that they can't even use now, cleaned him out completely. Ben holds up a couple of hundreds; says he took them from some book that his dad always keeps emergency funds in.
Riley's clothes are fine. He doesn't care. He says, "When are we going to get there? I’m hungry. This car smells weird."
Ben doesn't so much as glance back in the rearview mirror, but Riley can tell from the set of his shoulders that he heard. He sees Abigail's reflection roll her eyes in the windshield. Riley gives up on attempted humor. He curls up against the window and closes his eyes, and he tries not to think of Milliways.
Riley doesn't listen to them; even he can see it's a lost cause, and maybe if he didn't feel so numb, he might be a little more amused that Ben is trying so hard. He just drives with one hand on the wheel and the elbow of his other arm propped up on the edge of the door, resting his head against his hand. The wind roars in through the shattered driver's side window, especially once they hit I-95 and traffic speeds up, and it is a constant cold blast in Riley's face, chilling his hands. He pulls his sweatshirt hood over his head and tugs down his blazer's sleeves, and he keeps driving on autopilot, dispassionately watching the white lights flash past in the darkness.
Ben's dad doesn't seem like a very nice guy. He's wrapped in a bathrobe, hair messed up and his glasses perched precariously on his nose when he answers the door. He isn't happy to have the three of them (three, ha, it should be two; Riley offered up the duct tape in the back of the van for Abigail, but he got shot down) turn up on his doorstep late at night in the Philly suburb.
His first question after Ben says he's in trouble is "Is she pregnant?" with a nod at Abigail.
Abigail looks slightly offended. Riley shakes his head when she asks if she looks like she is, but he's smiling a little on the inside.
Still, Ben's dad does let them in. The house is small, warm, cluttered; there are all kinds of historical-looking gadgets and doodads. Riley only has eyes for the pizza box.
As he chews, he listens to Ben and his dad argue. Mr. Gates says the treasure doesn't exist; he wasted 20 years of his life searching for it and now Ben is doing the same. Ben disagrees. Maybe, Riley thinks contemplatively, pulling the long string of cheese into his mouth, he would agree with Mr. Gates. But Ben's been right so far and more importantly -- he believes in Ben. So he eats and he listens, and once Mr Gates has thrown up his hands and says he doesn't give a damn what Ben does, Ben's a grown man, Riley is pressed into service helping to set up the dining room table.
Ben explained the whole thing once and even an exasperated Abigail gave it a shot, but Riley still doesn't understand what it is they're doing. The table is covered in black trash bags, with Q-tips and a small bowl of lemons standing by. They all wear gloves; Ben and Abigail have fancy tight Latex ones, but Mr. Gates only had two pairs of those so Riley is wearing bright yellow kitchen gloves. The three of them lean over the table and Ben and Abigail carefully slide the Declaration out of its case and spread it out facedown on the table.
Ben's dad keeps popping in and asking questions, making them all nervous, but Riley doesn't mind so much; it's nice to have someone to talk to when Ben and Abigail basically only have eyes for each other. They're even finishing each other's sentences. For two people who profess to hate each other, it's sick. Mr. Gates even answers Riley's questions; he wants to know how they're supposed to see the map if it's invisible. Mr. Gates tells him higher sulfate inks can only be brought out with heat, whatever that means, and Ben talks his dad into leaving the room.
Ben and Riley are both surprised as hell when Abigail takes the lemon from Ben's hand and says she'll do it herself; that if this is going to happen, someone who is trained to handle antique documents is going to do it. She dabs gently at the upper righthand corner of the document, and when nothing appears, she and Ben exchange a glance, lean down and--looking at each other the entire time--both slowly blow on it.
Riley rolls his eyes and resists the urge to mutter something about vomiting.
But then -- something appears. Black writing appears, and all thoughts of puking are gone as the three of them stare at the map, then look excitedly at each other.
They need more lemons. They need more heat.
One blowdryer and two lemons later, they have ... something. A lot more black writing. Some numbers and stuff. Riley wants to know if it's latitude and longitude. For a moment, he feels like he came up with something pretty brilliant, but then Ben just shakes his head and says "That's why we need the Silence Dogood letters."
"That's the key?" asks Abigail, clearly surprised, and Riley is the only one here who just isn't getting it.
He asks again, and he's finally told that it's an andor cipher, an ander cypher, something like that. Each of the numbers corresponds to a letter in the key; the numbers represent the page number of the key text, the line on the page, and the letter in that line. Pretty simple, and when Ben turns to his dad to ask for the letters, it's with a face that shines with excitement.
Trouble is, Mr. Gates doesn't have the letters anymore.
He gave them to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia.
Well, says Ben, time to go. But then Mr. Gates gets close to the document and before any of them can stop him, he lifts it up to take a look at the front and -- oh shit.
Ben's dad says "oh my God" a lot. Also, things like, "This is the Declaration of Independence" and "You stole it?!" Riley is mildly worried that he might have a heart attack or something.
But then he calms down enough to say "And now you've pulled me into all of this."
Ben says, "Well, we can't have that," and so it is that Riley finds himself apologetically duct taping Ben Gates' father to a chair in his living room. Mr. Gates is resigned; just asks that he be put in front of the television with the remote control in one hand and a cup of soda with a straw in the other.
Riley does it, and with one last abashed apology, he takes the keys that Ben throws him and he and Abigail go out to start Mr. Gates' car that they're, uh, borrowing, and they leave the two Gates alone together for a few minutes. He eyes Abigail warily and leaves her alone so he can go out and moves the van; he parks it a few streets away, in front of a house that has a 'for sale' sign driven into its front lawn. Hopefully, that'll keep it from being found for a little while. His roommate's gonna kill him for the damage done to and now for abandoning his van, but that's the least of Riley's worries at the moment.
Ben and Abigail pick him up at the corner.
"Your dad's got a sweet ride," he says, once he's comfortably curled up in the backseat of the Cadillac Deville and they're on the road again.
Ben ignores him to make a comment about needing clothes, and their conspicuousness. Riley points out that they have no money. He didn't have much to begin with, and setting up that stupid clean room environment and paying for the supplies, the supplies that they can't even use now, cleaned him out completely. Ben holds up a couple of hundreds; says he took them from some book that his dad always keeps emergency funds in.
Riley's clothes are fine. He doesn't care. He says, "When are we going to get there? I’m hungry. This car smells weird."
Ben doesn't so much as glance back in the rearview mirror, but Riley can tell from the set of his shoulders that he heard. He sees Abigail's reflection roll her eyes in the windshield. Riley gives up on attempted humor. He curls up against the window and closes his eyes, and he tries not to think of Milliways.