First I can, then I can't.
I wish someone would make up my mind.

I would like to thank my dear friends,
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.

Education in the Hills
Chapter 39

By Penny Reed Cardon

Accepting the PDA, I smiled and thanked RJ. With Mary Beth in tow, I moved to the chair farthest from RJ, Shawn, and the door. As we moved I got out my PDA.

"Ye be handing ta PDA over ta that wee young lass?" Shawn asked, dumbfounded.

‘It's a good thing he wasn't in striking distance, I know what 'wee young lass' translates into. If I have time, I’ll change something in his employment records. I’ll teach him to call me a wee young lass.’

"Relax Shawn, she won't physically abuse it, she's just checking it out, making sure all the changes we discussed are there and working. Now let’s go over here and talk about options and docking stations," RJ said, as he gently took Shawn to the opposite corner.

With Mary Beth holding my travel PDA for me, and me with the new demo PDA, I got to work. There were a lot of people counting on me, and I was not going to let them down. Besides, I am the Mystical Munchkin and this - is what I do.

"You let me know if they come over, or if anyone else comes in," I whispered to Mary Beth.

I quickly discovered that there were six wireless networks in range, all with similar names, all giving the same amount of signal strength, and all of them secured. Not knowing what was where, I realized that I’d have to crack them all . . . it wasn't going to be as easy as I had anticipated.

I was working between the two PDA’s. I used the demo PDA to access Breen’s systems, after I re-enabled its Wi-Fi, and I used my travel PDA to access some software tools, that I'd loaded just before we left the Manor. It took longer than I expected, but I succeeded in cracking the first access code. The second code was much easier to break and then the third, the forth, and the fifth. From my very limited experience, most IT administrators were in the habit of using a similar style of passwords when setting up networks and access codes, you just had to figure out their style of passwords, this system administrator was no exception. That is until I started in on the sixth access code. I was confused at first, the sixth code didn’t follow any of the patterns that had been used when setting up the first five networks. It quickly became apparent that someone else had setup the sixth network and I had to start working through that code from scratch.

I was almost ashamed to admit that it took the better part of thirty minutes to get into all six of the networks. Once I was there however, I had access to all the company records, projects, customers, and personnel files. Finding Shawn’s files, I didn’t think he deserved such a very large salary, at least not when he insults the customers. I was sure he would be surprised when the next payday came around and his paycheck was substantially less than the previous check. However, somehow I knew that the Scottish Transgender Alliance, would appreciate his very generous donation.

Next on my agenda, was to set up a few surprises that could be triggered on command. I was sure that the IT security folks wouldn’t believe that someone as small and innocent as I, could penetrate their system. It was while I was setting up my surprises, that I had Mary Beth get out her PDA. Just for fun, I sent the command links, for half of my surprises, to MayBee’s PDA. When I had everything set, I started the research on the PDA’s that we had been testing, along with the PDA I had been given to play with. What I found was extremely enlightening, and I was sure RJ will be pleased with my work and my discoveries. When everything was set and I was sure of all my information, I pinged RJ’s PDA, to tell him I was ready.

“Well Shawn, shall we go see what Matilda thinks of the updated PDA?” I heard RJ ask, from across the room.

“Matilda, does that PDA have all the updates that we asked for?” RJ asked me, once they’d crossed the room.

“Yes, this has the enhancements that we recommended. However, in response to your statement in the waiting room, I would have to say no, they haven’t been completely honest with us."

"Really? I've had reports that were both positive and negative on the subject. Please tell me what you've found."

"What I’ve discovered, is that the PDA’s we’ve been testing for the last couple of months, model Twenty-Two Forty-Five, and this PDA model Twenty-Two Forty-Five Echo, were all part of a batch of PDA’s that were manufactured back in April of 2002.”

“What? Shawn, are you trying to unload three-year-old hardware on us?” RJ pointedly asks.

Shawn on the other hand looked like most of the blood had been drained from his body, as he slowly sank into a chair a few chairs away, and was muttering sounds that were not making any sense.
“How ... when ... She couldn’t ... I don’t ... Its not possible.”

“Their current model PDA is the model Twenty-Five Fifteen, I really think those would serve very well as our on campus PDA’s, that’s what they are putting together in the white room, that we passed as we came down the hall. The CPU speed is almost three times that of the twenty-two forty-five and they have two-hundred fifty-six gigs of ram. If they wanted throw in these Twenty-Two Forty-Five Echo’s, at a greatly reduced price, they might make an adequate travel PDA for the school. Although, I personally think the model Twenty-Three Eighty-Five would make a better travel PDA, as they have a built in cameras, which would be really nice when we’re traveling,” I added.

Shawn finally found his tongue and asked, “How do you know about the twenty-five fifteen’s?”

“I read about them while I was going through the engineering designs and specifications on one of your networks. After I discovered them, I went through your warehouse inventory. Unfortunately, the quantity you have in inventory won't meet our needs, but according to your production schedule you should be able to produce the needed quantity by June First.” I replied. “RJ, you know the two special teams, Mr. Black’s team and the corresponding junior team, I think they should be outfitted with their model Gwydion twenty-five. That PDA has all the features of the twenty-five fifteen, but it also has the ability for Wi-Fi and satellite communication.”

At that point Shawn was shaking, not to mention that he was shaking his head, saying, “No . . . it’s not possible. She couldn’t ... she just couldn’t ... nobody knows ... nobody knows ... Gwydion ... Classified ... top secret.”

I knew we had Shawn rattled, when his speech broke up into gibberish, apparently so did RJ. “Matilda, I think it’s time to make your presence known.”

“At what level?” I asked.

“How many levels are there?” RJ inquired.

“Six.”

“Let’s start at the lowest level and see where that gets us,” RJ decided.

“Okay, there aren’t too many alarms at that level.”

With that I entered a few keystrokes on the demo PDA. Almost immediately we heard some sirens going off, outside the showroom. Once the alarms went off, I put away my PDA and had Mary Beth do the same with hers.

It took five minutes, before someone came barging into the showroom. He was quickly followed by two others. All three were carrying some kind of scanner or signal tracking device. ‘I didn’t know you could track a wireless signal. I guess they found a way, it looks like a subject I needed to research.’

The three men moved to the three unoccupied corners of the room. I heard some hushed communication between the three men with the scanners and someone else. Two minutes later, a large man in a nice business suit showed up.

“Aw reit Shawn, whit th' heel is gonnae oan in haur?” the suit asked, as he put, what was obviously a PDA, in his jacket pocket.
(All right Shawn, what the hell is going on in here?)

“I … I … I didn’t think. She … she … somehow … I ... I don’t know ... somehow ... she ... she,” Shawn stuttered.

“Excuse me, I think what Shawn is trying to say is that, somehow Matilda knew that Shawn was trying to pass of your model Twenty-Two Forty-five PDA’s as your current model,” RJ started to explain.

“Fa in th’ blazes ur ye?” the suit asked.
(Who in the blazes are you?)

“I’m Russell Wentworth Jr. I represent Immigration Manor, a school in the United States. And may I ask who you are?”

“Ah'm Alastair McIntosh. Ah own Breen Marketin.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. McIntosh. Please call me RJ, everyone does.”

“RJ is it, huir uv a weel. Ye main caa me Alastair. Noo whit is gonnae oan an' fa is Matilda?”
(RJ is it, very well. You may call me Alastair. Now what is going on and who is Matilda?)

“I’m Matilda,” I said, as I put my hand up and waved.

“Ye can kin me, ye wee lassie?” Mr. McIntosh asked.
(You can understand me, you tiny little girl?)

I frowned at his reference to being a wee lassie and simply replied “Aye.”

Mary Beth on the other hand, coming to my rescue stated, “We baith can, an' if ye don’t want a cyber bomb left in yer network, Ah suggest ye nae caa 'er a wee lassie.”
(We both can, and if you don’t want a cyber bomb left in your network, I suggest you not call her a tiny little girl.)

At that moment, one of the three men with the scanners spoke quietly with Mr. McIntosh for several moments, before he turned his attention to me.

"Sae, ye ur Matilda. An' fa is thes other lassie?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(So, you are Matilda. And who is this other girl?)

"This is my study partner, Mary Beth," I replied.

“It is a pleasure tae ken ye baith. Noo 'en RJ, mah security tells me someain hacked intae a body ay uir systems an' they've traced th' signal tae thes room. Seein' hoo Shawn is jist babblin', can ye teel me what's bin gonnae oan in haur?”
(It is a pleasure to know you both. Now then RJ, my security tells me someone hacked into one of our systems and they've traced the signal to this room. Seeing how Shawn is just babbling, can you tell me what's been going on in here?)

"As I was saying, I've been negotiating with Shawn to purchase some new PDA's for our school. I think Shawn was just surprised, that Matilda knew that he was trying to pass off three-year-old PDA's as your current model," RJ replied.

"Weel hoo in th' blazes woods she ken 'at?" Mr. McIntosh demanded.
(Well how in the blazes would she know that?)

"I know, because I’m the one who hacked into your network," I calmly replied.

Mr. McIntosh looked at me for a moment and started laughing. It was several minutes before he stopped laughing and said, "This huir uv a lassie hacked uir network, Ah dornt hink sae. What's pure gonnae oan?"
(This very little girl hacked our network, I don't think so. What's really going on?)

Fuming, I asked Mary Beth to touch the 'Surprise # 2' icon, that I put on her PDA. Then I started looking on Breen's system for Mr. McIntosh's PDA.

Moments later, a new set of alarms could be heard.

"What th' heel is gonnae oan noo?" Mr. McIntosh wondered aloud.
(What the hell is going on now?)

About two minutes passed, with alarms blaring, before someone called the phone, built into, Mr. McIntosh's PDA. Naturally, he extracted his PDA to answer the call. He seemed surprised by what he saw.

"What th' heel is gonnae oan haur?" he screamed, into his phone. "Yoo teel Walter tae gie his scrawny crease doon tae th' showroom reit awa', an' he better hae some answers. Ah want tae ken what's gonnae oan an' fa replaced th' backgroond oan mah PDA, wi' an American flag."
(What the hell is going on here?)
(You tell Walter to get his scrawny ass down to the showroom right away, and he better have some answers. I want to know what's going on and who replaced the background on my PDA, with an American flag.)

RJ looked at me with a smile and asked, "Matilda, you didn't?"

"Of course I did, and I'll do a lot more than that, if he calls me a 'wee little lassie' again," I gruffly replied.

Mary Beth was giggling, finally she said, "Go get'm my Munchkin."

RJ on the other hand quietly said, “Matilda, you promised that you’d be good.”

“Silly me.” I muttered. So RJ could hear me, I replied, "I am being good, I haven't erased any network drives . . . Yet!"

Just then a slender man came running into the showroom, Walter I assumed.

"Mr. McIntosh, oi jist canny explain it, after de first breach, we locked down al' de systems. Dare 'enny been any new connecshuns established. Oi jist don't nu 'oy someone got into de medical research systems," Walter was hastily explaining.
(Mr. McIntosh, I just can't explain it, after the first breach, we locked down all the systems. There haven't been any new connections established. I just don't know how someone got into the medical research systems,)

While Walter was doing his best to save his job, I quietly stood up and walked over next to him. After he stopped talking, I reached up and tugged on his shirt sleeve. He looked down at me and asked, "What do you want?"

"Maybe you didn't detect a new connection, because the intruder was already in the system and simply choose that moment in time, to kick your cyber trap, setting off the alarms," I replied. Turning, I returned to my seat.

Mr. McIntosh, Walter, and the three security men, with the scanners all stopped talking and stared at me. Shawn was still babbling, and shaking his head. RJ stood to the side smiling. Mary Beth was trying hard to not laugh out loud.

Finally Walter asked, "Who is that?"

RJ replied, proudly stating, "That is Matilda, affectionately known as The Munchkin. Remember the name gentlemen; I'm sure you'll hear from her again."

Mr. McIntosh was still looking at me, as he said, "Walter, yoo're fired. Matilda, can Ah interest ye in a job."

Giggling, I replied, "I can't come work for you, Mr. McIntosh, I'm only ten-years-old."

Mr. McIntosh continued, "Donae matter yer age, yoo're better than Walter haur. I'll pay ye top dollar, anythin' ye want, Ah jist need a security system that's hacker proof."

RJ jumped in to rescue me, "I'm sorry Mr. McIntosh, but hiring Matilda full time is out of the question. Besides, we haven't taught her how to setup a system yet, she's only been with us for about five months."

"Yoo taught 'er tae hack intae uir system in fife months?" Mr. McIntosh seemed to be getting upset again.
(You taught her to hack into our system in five months?)

"On the contrary," RJ started to explain. "Matilda was hacking into various computer systems before she started with us. She appears to have an unnatural gift. She's worked her way into some of the best, protected systems, like the front doors were standing wide open. Matilda, how long did it take to get into their systems?"

"Well ... I'm ashamed to admit it, but it took the better part of thirty minutes to have full access, to all six systems," I timidly replied.

"Walter, a ten-year-auld lassie cracked yer best security in less than thirty minutes. Whit dae ye hae tae say fur yerself?" Mr. McIntosh demanded.
(Walter, a ten-year-old girl cracked your best security in less than thirty minutes. What do you have to say for yourself?)

"Matilda, ye say ye be inta six wireless networks?" Walter asked.

"That's correct, five individual networks and a sixth network with links to the other five. The names on all six networks were very similar, although one of the access codes was radically different. I assume the sixth network is a managerial or supervisory network," I admitted.

Walter turned to Mr. McIntosh, "Sairrr, we only hae fife networks, an' fur security reasons, nane ay uir networks ur linked together."
(Sir, we only have five networks, and for security reasons, none of our networks are linked together.)

"Oops. What did you stumble into?" Mary Beth quietly asked.

"What? Whit diz thes pure techt?" Mr. McIntosh questioned.
(What? What does this mean?)

"Mr. McIntosh, it means dat someone 'as set up an additional network, perhaps somethin' linked ter wan av our networks so they can knuk our designs," Walter explained.
(Mr. McIntosh, it means that someone has set up an additional network, perhaps something linked to all of our networks so they can steal our designs)

While Mr. McIntosh and Walter were discussing the sixth network I was busy typing away.

Walter turned back to me and started to ask, "Matilda, cud yer send -."

I didn't wait for him to finish asking the question, before I hit send. A moment later Walter's PDA beeped. "That's everything I have on the network, with the odd access code. It definitely has been linked to all of the other networks."

"What is dis?" Walter asked. "I've never seen data on a network dat looks loike dis."

I took Walter aside and we went over the data I'd sent him, then he rushed out, in search of the alien network.

"Yoo see Matilda, Ah need ye tae keep Walter in line," Mr. McIntosh professed.
(You see Matilda, I need you to keep Walter in line,)

"I'm sorry, but that's simply out of the question," RJ flatly stated.

"However, for the right price, I could be coaxed into testing your system, let's say, twice each year. I would then call Walter with the results of my invasion. With that information he can keep upgrading your systems," I added.

"So whit ur we talkin' abit haur?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(So what are we talking about here?)

"What are you doing Matilda?" Mary Beth asked.

"Just looking out for the school - mostly," I confessed.

Turning back to Mr. McIntosh, I started negotiations, "I was thinking that we should be able to get the PDA's we need at a wholesale price."

"Haw mony ur we talkin' abit?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(How many are we talking about?)

"That would depend upon which model will fill the needs for our different groups," RJ said, joining in on the negotiations. "Although, we'd like to look at several models before we can decide that."

"What models ur ye interested in?" Mr. McIntosh inquired.

"You still have that list, Matilda?" RJ asked.

"I do. The first one we’d like to see is, the model Twenty-Five Fifteen.”

“If we like what we see, we would want two-hundred of that model,” RJ interrupted

“Then there is the model Twenty-Three Eighty-Five,” I added.

“Again, if we like the features of that model, and the price is right, we would want two-hundred of those in addition to the Twenty-Five Fifteen's,” RJ indicated.

“Then there is the model Gwydion Twenty-Five,” I said, which shocked Mr. McIntosh.

“If that model PDA is everything Matilda says it is, we would like fifty of that model, in addition to the others” RJ concluded.

Mr. McIntosh quickly sat down, dumbfounded, and with his mouth hanging open. He sat quietly for a moment, then he turned to Shawn, who had come back to his senses, "Go pull a body ay each ay those models fur these braw fowk."
(Go pull one of each of those models for these fine people.)

"Yes sir. Roi away sir," Shawn said, as he jumped up and ran out the door.

“Haw dae ye ken abit th' gwydion series?” Mr. McIntosh asked.
(How do you know about the Gwydion series?)

I held up the demo PDA and waved it slightly, saying, “I have access to all the information on all of your networks.”

Mr. McIntosh frowned and shook his head. “Weel RJ, Ah don’t ken exactly hoo mony ay th' Twenty-Three Eighty-Fives’ we hae in th' warehouse -”
(Well RJ, I don’t know exactly how many of the twenty-three eighty-fives’ we have in the warehouse –)

“One hundred and fifty,” I interrupted.

“Ain hunder an' fifty. Weel Ah can lit ye hae them at ten percent under cost. Th' other fifty we’ll hae tae assemble an' Ah cooldn’t seel them fur less than whit it costs tae pit them together. As fur th' Twenty-Fife Fifteens’ we produce them as they ur ordered. However, fur an order ay tois hunder Ah coods lit ye hae them at fife percent under uir wholesale price. Th' Gwydion series woods be th' sam.”
(One hundred and fifty. Well I can let you have them at ten percent under cost. The other fifty we’ll have to assemble and I couldn’t sell them for less than what it costs us to put them together. As for the twenty-five fifteens’ we produce them as they are ordered. However, for an order of two hundred I could let you have them at five percent under our wholesale price. The Gwydion series would be the same.)

While Mr. McIntosh was talking about price and quantity of the various PDA’s, he stood up and was slowly pacing.

“Mr. McIntosh, would those prices be the same for any customer ordering that many PDA’s?” I asked.

He stopped and looked at me as he answered, “Ah, most ay uir customers order atween ten an' fifty units. Thes is th' first time Ah hae hud anyain ask fur 'at mony.”
(Yes, most of our customers order between ten and fifty units. This is the first time I have had anyone ask for that many.)

“I see. In that case, I’d also like to see one of the model Myrrdin Fifteen.” I added.

Mr. McIntosh coughed and staggered back a step.

RJ looked like he desperately wanted to ask a question, but Mary Beth beat him to it. “What’s a Myrrdin Fifteen?”

“That my dear friend, is the very top of their line. It’s the Cadillac of PDA’s, satellite communications, TCP/IPv4 and TCP/IPv6 capable, screaming, fast CPU, two-hundred fifty-six gig of internal ram, with a micro SD slot for additional memory, and a full biometric feedback security system, not just a thumb print scanner,” I replied, rattling off some of the specifications.

“What’s a biometric feedback system?” Mary Beth asked.

“It’s the latest in hand held computer security. It actually reads the users DNA and will only respond to the authorized user,” RJ informed her. “However, that doesn’t tell me why you would want to see one, Matilda.”

“That’s my fee,” I calmly replied.

“Your fee?” Mary Beth asked.

“Fee for my services in becoming Breen Marketing’s, outside Internet security analyst,” I answered.

It was quiet for a few moments. Then Mr. McIntosh got out his PDA and called someone, while walking to the middle of the room. “Iseabail? Alistair, can ye brin' me a Merlin Fifteen. I’m in th' showroom wi' a customer.” “Yes, complete. Chargers, dockin' station, th' works. Also brin' a body ay th' remote satellite transceivers an' th' confidentiality agreement fur th' Merlin Fifteen. thenk ye Iseabail.”
(Iseabail, Alistair, can you bring me a Merlin fifteen. I’m in the showroom with a customer.) (Yes, complete. Chargers, docking station, the works. Also bring one of the remote satellite transceivers and the confidentiality agreement for the Merlin fifteen. Thank you Iseabail.)

While Mr. McIntosh was talking with Iseabail, I looked at Mary Beth and RJ, saying, “I didn’t think he’d go for it just like that. I figured he’d want to do some negotiating, at least.”

“It looks like our Munchkin is already earning a name for herself. Although, I'm not sure Principal Peterson is going to approve of her reputation or her fee,” RJ said.

“Yes, quiet the reputation, the Mystical Munchkin,” Mary Beth added.

Mr. McIntosh had finished his conversation, as had the three of us, when Shawn came rushing in with three boxes.

“Here yee be RJ, one model Twenty-Five Fifteen, one Twenty-Three Eighty-Five, and one Gwydion Twenty-Five, all with USA accessories,” Shawn announced, as he placed each box on the center table. Shawn pulled out a small knife and cut the tape on each of the boxes.

RJ and I examined the contents of each box. The PDA’s had enough of a charge to power up and let us go through some of the basic operating menus. Each box contained a docking station, so the PDA could be linked to and charged from a standard computer or a laptop. There was also a standard US wall charger and a 12 volt travel charger. I was wondering why a company in the UK would have so many PDA’s on-hand that were setup for sale and use in the US. Oh well, just another question for another day.

RJ and I both approved of the three models, for the intended uses, and at the stated price discounts.

As I was finishing up with the last PDA, Mary Beth whispered in my ear, “I thought we were only getting new PDA’s for the school when we're on campus. I thought the PDA’s we have now would become the travel PDA’s.”

“That was the plan. At least that was the plan before someone discovered an extra Twenty Million dollars, hiding in one of the schools accounts,” I whispered back.

“Oh, I see. Should we send Mr. Santino an anonymous letter to say thank you?” Mary Beth teased.

Before I could respond, a young women came into the showroom, carrying two boxes. She looked around for a moment, then she made a bee line for Mr. McIntosh. I assumed this was Iseabail.

"Here's the Myrrdin Fifteen you requested, Mr. McIntosh," she said.

"Thenk ye Iseabail."

"I'm confused sir, I don't see anyone from the military here. Who is this for?" Iseabail asked.

"Ye ur correct, thaur isnae anyain haur frae th' military.”
(You are correct, there isn't anyone here from the military.)

Mr. McIntosh turned towards me and continued. "Iseabail, thes is Matilda. please sit th' Merlin fifteen tae respond tae 'er.”
(Iseabail, this is Matilda. Please set the Merlin Fifteen to respond to her.)

"Mr. Mcintosh, ye cannae be serious,” Iseabail complained.
(Mr. McIntosh, you can't be serious,)

I saw a slight movement in the corner of my eye, as Iseabail continued, "She is jist a wee lassie."
"She is just a tiny little girl."

"OUUUUCCHHH," someone screamed.

"Munchkin, we have got to work on that reflex action," Mary Beth complained, as she rubbed her leg.

Looking up towards Iseabail and Mr. McIntosh Mary Beth added, "PLEASE don't call her a little girl, her reaction is predictable and painful."

Realizing that I'd kicked Mary Beth, I lost all interest in my new PDA. I helped Mary Beth hobble to the nearest chair, all the while I was profusely apologizing. It was several minutes before Mary Beth tired of my remorseful hovering and pushed me away. Reluctantly I left my wounded partner and went back to doing what I was supposed to do.

While RJ made the arrangements for how and when the PDA's to be shipped to the school, I was with Iseabail learning about the features of my Myrrdin Fifteen. With RJ carrying the boxes with the accessories for my new PDA, I put my arm around Mary Beth's waist, with her arm around my shoulder, and helped her limp back to the waiting area and Miss Adams.

"You know, I really can walk by myself," Mary Beth quietly said, as we left the showroom.

"But helping you helps me to not feel so bad, about hurting you," I countered.

"Do you know how silly this must look?"

"What's silly about it?"

"A person your size helping a person my size. I'm sure this looks a little funny."

"So it looks funny - WOW," I cried out, as Mary Beth's grip on my shoulders tightened and she lifted me off the ground.

As Shawn opened the door to the waiting room, we heard RJ behind us, laughing and asking, "Just who is helping who?"

When Miss Adams saw us she became slightly alarmed, "What happened to Matilda?"

"Matilda kicked Mary Beth," RJ cheerfully explained.

"I didn't mean to, and I said I was sorry," I confessed.

"So why did Matilda kick you, Mary Beth?" asked Miss Adams.

"It was one of those what's his name with his stupid dog things, again," Mary Beth tried to explain.

"Who's dog?" Miss Adams asked.

"The guy who trained his dog to eat at the sound of a bell. Only with Matilda she swings her leg when certain words are spoken. With considerable force I might add," Mary Beth explained.

"Okay, that explains why Mary Beth was kicked. So why is Mary Beth carrying Matilda?" Miss Adams asked.

"It didn't start out that way. I was trying to be helpful," I meekly replied, as Mary Beth set me down.

"I told the Munchkin I didn't need any help walking, but she insisted," Mary Beth added.

"Okay, okay, you don't need any help. I'll remember that when we get back home and you're stuck on some math problem," I said, as I took my boxes from RJ, and set them on a small table near Miss Adams.

"Wait a minute, I didn't say I didn't need any help, I just didn't need help walking. I still need help with school work. You will still help me, won't you," Mary Beth pleaded, with her puppy dog eyes.

"Oh ... of course I'll help you," I answered, with a smile. "Let's get this stuff packed so we can go get some lunch, I'm starving."

"RJ, what's in the boxes," Miss Adams asked.

"Matilda's fee," he replied.

"Her fee?" Miss Adams asked, her tone indicated she was very confused.

"I'll explain it later. I'll use you as my dry run. I'm not sure how I'll explain it to Principle Peterson," RJ explained.

With two PDA's sharing space in my skirt pocket, and the rest of my new accessories squeezed into my carry-on suitcase, we left Breen Marketing. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to recover from the Munchkin invasion. I had the contact information for Walter, hopefully he will find the alien system quickly so he can keep his job.

Once we were outside, on the sidewalk, we took a few minutes to discuss the itinerary for the rest of the day. We had a little extra time before we needed to be at the airport. Knowing that we'd be spending most of the next two days in airports and on airplanes, we decided to take the extra time we had and look around the shops that lined the road.

Lunch was easily taken care of, the little bakery we'd past was also a delicatessen. Hot roast beef, on fresh from the oven buns was absolutely heavenly. I was surprised by what they called chips. I think they were bite size, bits of potato, with some kind of breading, and then they were deep fried. They were tasty, even if they weren’t what I expected.

After lunch, we were casually walking along, looking through the windows of the different shops, when RJ stopped.

"Let's go in here," he said.

That day, in Edinburgh, I learned something new about RJ. Not only did he have dirty blond hair and a, neatly trimmed, red goatee and mustache, which I always thought was strange, I learned that he collected straight edge razors.

The shop we went into sold razors, knives, daggers, and all manner of swords. Some of the swords were longer than I was tall, and probably weighed more than I did. While RJ was negotiating for a razor, the rest of us were wandering around, looking at the variety. I was wondering if part of our training, at the Manor, would include self-defense using swords. My haphazard ‘mind wondering’ was interrupted by Mary Beth calling out.

"Hey Matilda, this has your name on it."

"It says Matilda on it?" I asked, as I moved to where Mary Beth was standing.

"Not Matilda. It says McNeil," she explained.

"Well, how about that, it does. I'm famous and I didn't know it," I replied, with just a little bit of smugness.

"Ye ur a McNeil?” the shop keeper asked.

I looked at the shop keeper, a rather large man, and shyly replied, "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Och, lassie, ne'er be ashamed ay bein' a McNeil. stain taa an' be prood, th' mcneil's ur a strang an' prood clan. fa is yer faither, lass?” he asked, as he stepped from behind the display with a large book in his hands.
(Oh, lassie, never be ashamed of being a McNeil. Stand tall and be proud, the McNeil's are a strong and proud clan. Who is your father, lass?)

"McNeil is my mother's name. I don't use my father's name," I replied, sharply.

"Ye arenae prood ay yer faither? " he asked.
(You are not proud of your father?)

RJ quickly had a quiet conversation with the shop keeper. I don't know exactly what was said, but I could guess, based upon the shop keeper's comments.

"Ye dornt say."

“Hoo coods a cheil harm his ain flesh an' bluid?"
(How could a man harm his own flesh and blood?)

“Och, th' puir lass."

“Aroond haur, onie cheil fa woods daur sic' atrocities, woods suin be missin' his manhuid," the shop keeper said, with an angry growl.
(Around here, any man who would dare such atrocities, would soon be missing his manhood.)
Then he opened the display case that had the shield with McNeil Coat of Arms. He pulled two things out of the display case.

Handing me a fair sized book, he explained, "Haur ye ur lassie, thes is th' cuttie history ay th' McNeil clan, datin' back tae th' sixteen-hundreds."
(Here you are lassie, this is the short history of the McNeil clan, dating back to the sixteen-hundreds.)

Then he handed me an impressive looking dagger, about a eighteen inches long, engraved in a sheath was a small replica of the McNeil Coat of Arms.
"Keep thes wi' ye, lassie, tae defend yerself against scum loch yer worthless faither."
(Keep this with you, lassie, to defend yourself against scum like your worthless father.)

"Thank you, sir. But, I don't think I should accept such gifts from someone I just met, and I don't even know your name," I answered, looking to RJ and Miss Adams for some kind of sign, or support.

"Oh, whaur ur mah manners?" the shopkeeper asked himself. "Ah be William Duncan Owen McNeil. Welcome tae mah humble shop, hoo main Ah be ay service?"
"Oh, where are my manners?" "I am William Duncan Owen McNeil. Welcome to my humble shop, how may I be of service?"

"So that's how you know so much about the McNeil's, you are one," Mary Beth exclaimed.

"Ah lass, aw mah life," Mr. McNeil replied, with a deep chuckle.

"So that would make us -" I started.

"Very distant coosins, but fowk nane th' less. An', as yer older coosin Ah feel ye need tae learn abit yer clan, by takin' 'at book an' learnin' th' clan history," Mr. McNeil replied.
(Very distant cousins, but family none the less. And, as your older cousin I feel you need to learn about your clan, by taking that book and learning the clan history,)

Looking to RJ for some guidance, he smiled and nodded once.

"Very well Mr. McNeil, from one cousin to another, I accept your gift of our family history. As for this sword -"

"It’s jist a wee dagger," Mr. McNeil corrected.

"It may be a little dagger to you, but to me it’s a large sword, almost as long as my arm. Anyway, be it sword or dagger, I cannot accept it," I explained.

"But it is a gift tae ye," Mr. McNeil professed.

"And a very gracious gift indeed," RJ said, coming to my rescue. "The problem is, we would never get that beautiful dagger past airport security."

"Airport security? 'At shooldnae be a problem. Ah used tae carry fife tae ten swords wi' me aw th' time," Mr. McNeil stated.
"Airport security? That shouldn't be a problem. I used to carry five to ten swords with me all the time,"

"How long ago was that?" RJ asked.

"I guess it’s bin abit fifteen tae twintie years since Ah lest took a rush order ay swords tae London," Mr. McNeil explained.
"I guess it’s been about fifteen to twenty years since I last took a rush order of swords to London,"

"I'm afraid there have been a few changes in the last twenty years," RJ said.

He didn't go into a lot of details, but he told Mr. McNeil about the biggest changes in airport security. After they finished talking about the current state of the travel industry, they went back to RJ's purchase of a straight razor. With their business complete, we left Mr. McNeil's shop. RJ hailed a cab and we were soon on our way to the airport.

After landing in London, RJ had everyone leave their PDA’s in Airplane mode as he went to rent a car. After leaving the airport we drove for a little over an hour. Eventually we drove through a small town called Heath and Reach. What a strange name for a town I thought. We'd just passed through the center of town when RJ turned onto a small road.

As we started down the road, RJ started to tell us where we were going, "Right. Now then, because you two know more about the S. P. A. and the schools that they run, than any other student at the Manor, I'm going to tell you something that must not leave the confines of this car. We're going to Hayfield Hall. We will be guests there for one night, leaving tomorrow just after lunch. Now listen carefully, none of the students here knows anything about Immigration Manor and we need to keep it that way. Whoever you talk with or have any interaction with, they cannot know about the Manor. I know this will be hard for both of you, having to keep your entire world secret, but it is a secret that must be kept, from everyone you come in contact with. Do you both understand?”

We both nodded, then I asked, “Is there a cover story we can use? I’m sure they are going to ask who we are, where we’re from, and why we’re here.”

RJ smiled and nodded, “As a matter of fact, there is. Two years ago, there was an international music competition being held in Toronto. Both schools were in attendance, although there was no interaction between the students. However, the two music directors were introduced and have kept in touch. The cover story is, we are here to give a little concert. The idea is to show Mrs. Russell how one or two voices can actually enhance the sound of an orchestra.”

Timidly I asked, “What sort of concert are we giving?”

“You and Mary Beth will perform three or four songs as a duet, the same as you did on Christmas Eve, Mary Beth singing and you on the Glockenspiel. Then Miss Adams and I will join you for one song, followed by the national anthems, from both countries,” RJ explained.

“So there’ll be three of us singing and Matilda on the glockenspiel?” Mary Beth asked.

“No, my dear,” Miss Adams clarified. “You and RJ will be singing. Matilda will be playing the glockenspiel and I will be playing a harp.”

“I didn’t know you played the harp,” I stated.

“Well, obviously you don’t know everything,” RJ teasingly replied, with a huge smile.

“Just don’t spread it around,” Mary Beth said, with an equally massive smile. Then she added, “If word got out that the Munchkin doesn’t know everything, it could really mess up her reputation.”

Shaking my head, I lightly slapped Mary Beth’s shoulder and asked, “What songs are we performing?”

“The first three or four are up to you,” RJ replied.

“The song that we’ll be doing as a mixed quartet is something that Mrs. Taylor wants to use as a signature song for the school, for the coming year. That is, it will be performed at every concert,” Miss Adams added. “You haven’t played this song before, but I’m told you can learn a new song very quickly.”

“That’s true. She had ‘Carol of the Bells’ down after just a few hours of practicing,” Mary Beth added.

“Right. Well, after that we’ll be doing ‘God Save the Queen’ and then our national anthem. We’ve already reserved one of the practice rooms for tonight and tomorrow morning. That should give us enough time to practice together, so we will have the professional sound that the Manor is known for,” RJ stated.

“I’ve never played ‘God Save the Queen’,” I said.

“I have the music for that, as well,” Miss Adams replied.

We'd traveled about half a mile, or so, down the road, when we came upon a pair of iron gates, standing about twelve feet tall. RJ pulled up to a small box, mounted on a post, and pressed a button.

"Yes!"

"Russell Wentworth Jr."

The gates slowly and majestically swung open, and we slowly proceeded through. The wheels of the car crunched against the gravel road. In the distance, I saw the main building, which looked about two hundred years old. There were two wings on either side that looked like they'd been recently added. The car came to a stop, along a circular drive, close to the main entrance.

As RJ shut down the engine, he turned to me and said, "Matilda, when we were in Edinburgh you were allowed to freely explore their network, correct?"

"Yes, it was really a lot of fun. Although, I expected their security to be better than it was."

“Two things; first, to add to the anonymity of Immigration Manor, it would be best if you two didn’t use your real names,” RJ started.

“You want us to make up and use different names on the spur of the moment?” I asked.

“Actually, I was thinking that you could just use your nicknames while you're here,” RJ explained.

“Oh, okay, that should be easy enough,” Mary Beth replied.

I nodded my agreement, then added, “And second?”

“Yes, the second; I need you to promise that you won't go exploring on their local networks. In fact, all of our PDA’s should be left in airplane mode, so they are not picked up by the local system."

After thinking about it for a few seconds, I replied, "I understand, and I promise I won't invade, or explore, the local networks. Is it okay if I charge and power up my new satellite PDA?"

"As long as you only power up the satellite radio and not the Wi-Fi radio. The local networks must not pick up the presence of that PDA. If the Wi-Fi comes online the local system will detect it the moment it is activated and scans for networks," he confirmed.

“I understand, RJ. No Wi-Fi of any kind,” I acknowledge.

With our private conversation finished, we got out and retrieved our bags from the trunk of the car.

We followed RJ through the main entrance and into a large hall. The building looked like it used to be a large stately home. The oak paneled walls gleaming from the bright glistering chandeliers. The thick plush carpets made me want to take off my shoes and walk bare footed. I expected a butler to appear, to take our names.

I’d just started my initial scan of the area, those old survival skills coming to life once again, when a young lady, a gentleman, and an older lady, I'd almost go as far as to say grandmotherly, approached us. The two adults seemed to know both RJ and Miss Adams, as they exchanged hushed greetings and handshakes.

Turning to Mary Beth and me, almost as if we were an afterthought, RJ introduced everyone. “Let me introduce our two youngest students. First is a special young lady we call Munchkin.”

“And if you value your legs, don’t make reference to her size,” Miss Adams quietly added, with a smile.

“We also have her study partner, MayBee, that’s M A Y B E E. Girls, I’d like to introduce Mr. Hobson, he's the headmaster here." Obviously the gentleman. "The lovely lady is Mrs. Katherine Mayhew," RJ said, indicating the older lady.

"I see you're still oozing with charm, RJ," Mrs. Mayhew replied, with a smile, while she teasingly slapped RJ's shoulder.

"And this is Miss Shelly Wright," Mr. Hobson continued with the introductions, indicating the young lady.

"We're pleased to meet you," Mary Beth and I said together.

"Likewise," Mr. Hobson said. "Now that we've all been introduced, we best be showing you to your rooms. It's almost time for dinner. Shelly, you have the menus?"

"Of course, sir." Shelly replied, handing each of us a small piece of paper and a pencil. "If you'll mark your choices, I'll place your requests with the kitchen."

We quickly marked our menus and handed them back to Shelly. She immediately left, heading for destinations unknown.

As Shelly turned to leave, Mr. Hobson continued, "RJ, as you know our accommodations are somewhat limited. So, if you and Miss Adams will follow me, Kate will escort our young guests to some of our student rooms."

"I'm sure whatever you have will be acceptable," Miss Adams commented.

Mary Beth and I followed Mrs. Mayhew to what they referred to as the sleeping wing. We stopped at an unmarked door, which looked the same as all the other unmarked doors we passed along the way.

“This will be your room MayBee.” Mrs. Mayhew said, as she opened the door, ushering us inside.

“The Munchkin’s room is next door. It can also be accessed through this interconnecting door,” she told us, as she led us through to my room.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom in each room, if you’d like to freshen up before I show you the way to the dining room.”

“I don’t know about you, MayBee, but we’ve been traveling for a while and I’m going to wash up before dinner,” I said, heading for the bathroom.

“That’s a good idea, Munchkin. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

As I was closing the bathroom door, I noticed Mrs. Mayhew sit on the couch.

As was typical, I took a little longer in the bathroom than Mary Beth. When I left the bathroom, Mary Beth was on the couch with Mrs. Mayhew, talking.

When Mrs. Mayhew noticed me crossing the room, she asked, “So tell me Matilda, do you enjoy playing the Glockenspiel?”

* * * To Be Continued * * *

Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

Note

Gwydion
Celtic (Welsh) Warrior and magician God, God of enchantment, illusion, magic.

Myrrdin
"Merlin", Celtic (Britania, Irish & Welsh) Sorcerer, Druid, Wizard and Magician.

http://www.angelfire.com/wizard/celticdeities/