Short Fat Stubby Finger Stories PRESENTS

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EPISODE 62

The tea served, everybody seated, Joseph encouraged Raji to tell his story.
“So, tell us, Raji … how did you became involved with the Punjani?”
Raji took a sip of his tea, looked slowly around the room to ensure himself that all were paying attention … then began his tale
“It began when I was visiting my cousin Aakram, the goat farmer.”
“The goat farmer”  Mary laughed.  The volume of her outburst slightly louder than she had intended, and as such it had the impact expected for such an offensive interruption.
‘Yes,” Raji replied in a rather huffy tone, “A goat farmer. It is not an uncommon occupation in my old country.”
Mary had been engaged in Raji’s story before it had even commenced. But she had not expected his opening lines to be so mundane. She had been expecting to hear of unearthly apparitions appearing in Raji’s dreams.  Of goblins and demons appearing in some dark and damp, bat filled cave he had stumbled into, but she had never been expecting a goat farmer to be the intermediary between Raji and the Punjani.
“I am so sorry, Raji,” Mary blustered in her embarrassment, “I meant no offense or disrespect. It was just that such a domestic introduction to the horrors that the Punjani are associated with, it came as such a low key surprise. I am afraid that I was expecting something coated with much more horror. Will you please forgive me and go on with your story? I promise I will keep my mouth from opening again until you have finished telling your story.”
“Yes,” Raji grinned, “How could I not forgive you. Of course, you are right in your thinking, but this is the way that it really happened. And as you will see as it all unfolds, one could not help but think that everything that took place was either serendipity, or fate already had it all planned to happen the way that it did.
I had returned to my homeland after many years of living here in England; in this wonderful country.  Just for a short holiday, you understand. I was staying with my cousin Aakram and his family in a small rural village; a village in the middle of nowhere for all sake and purpose. There are a little over one hundred villagers living there at the moment, many of which have ancestry that goes back thousands of years, while others have married into the village and have never had a thought about leaving.
It is an idyllic lifestyle living in the village with none of the hustle and bustle of the city, except perhaps for those that work in one of the two cities, but as a rule, once they are on the way back to the village in the afternoon on the new highway they are as calm as worn out, three day old new kittens by the time they arrive home. At that time of day the highway is quiet. The majority of the workers in the nearby cities live close to their place of employment and the villagers more or less have the highway to themselves. The trip usually only takes around fifteen minutes.
The village, my village of long ago, was once one of five large and wealthy villages that existed in the Paramour region for eons, but time, weather, storms, floods and the two great wars had all conspired to destroy the old city that governed the villages. Eventually the city was broken into two equal halves, each part being moved lock, stock and barrel to a new location some twenty five miles either way from the old location. And each of the transitions were accompanied by two of the villages, but our ancestors decided to stay where they were. Everybody loved the village and they loved the tranquility and beauty of their home. Unlike the other villages that had existed closer to the old city, our village resided on fertile ground alongside a main highway. And alongside the same highway, but on the opposite side, there is a long, majestic mountain range that protects the villagers from the massive dust-storms that were constantly being whipped up on the sand dunes on the desert that existed at the far side of the range. Oh, I can remember well the feeling in my wildly beating heart as the colours and shapes of the mountains changed in the early mornings from a dark, menacing, blobby shadow, to an absolutely magnificent landscape masterpiece with the rising sun, and in the evening a slight shedding of tears was not unusual for the casual viewer as the mountains peaks slowly disappeared in the red glow of the setting sun. But I am diverting.
They are beautiful people, my cousin and his family, and I think the world of them.  But time changes many things, and my style of living had changed too.  I was no longer comfortable living in a house where goats wander in and chew on the pillow that you are sleeping on, or waking up in the morning and finding that you only have one usable shoe.  The whole house was infested with goats from morning to night, and all the hours on either side.
I stayed there for two days and nights and that was enough for me.  I was going to leave the next morning while I still had enough clothes left to travel in.  And I would have gone – had not one of those wretched goats decided to take a trek into the mountains. Now, I told you that there was a new highway and an old highway, well there is, and that, in a way, is the penalty we had to pay for remaining where we were. The new highway only takes us to connect with the new freeway at either end, depending were we want to go, north or south. This means, of course, there is no initiative for anyone to divert from the new freeway, there is only the village on the journey between highways, and this has put a bit of a damper on passing traffic sales; but it was not the end of the world for the villagers. The villagers all grow edible products, or manufacture items such as clothing, touristee things, and a mixture of other items that are used in households which makes them a big seller; they are purchased by both city dwellers and tourists who are visiting the cities. Now everything produced is shared amongst all of the villagers. and what they don’t consume between themselves they sell at the markets that lay at the beginning of both cities. The biggest problem, however, was the buses between the two new cities. There are two buses that arrive every day; one each way in the morning … and one each way in the evening, both travelling between the two new cities. However, if someone wants to get to one of the cities at a different time to the official timetable they will need to be prepared to walk the three miles to the new highway to catch a non diverted bus which runs every hour, but only on the new highway. The same applies for anybody wanting to return home outside of the scheduled service time table. This all means, of course, other than the four buses, there is no other vehicle ever on the old highway. This is why it was so easy for the goat to cross over without being run over or causing an accident – there were no cars to run him over … luckily for him.

********

  My cousin had gone out in search of the stupid creature before I had awoken, and my cousin’s wife begged me to at least wait until he returned from his search.  She said that he would be heartbroken if he could not wish me well on my journey.  So I waited, and a further day and a half elapsed as I did so. My patience was at an end, and so was my wardrobe thanks to a mother goat and her two kids, and I decided to leave regardless my cousin’s non return.  His heart could break into a thousand pieces and his bloody goats could eat every one of them as far as I was concerned.  I packed what I had left, said my good-byes to his wife and children and walked out of the door. 
As I waited by the road I could see the my bus coming in the distance and picked up my suitcase in anticipation of boarding, when a voice called out behind me.
‘Raji!  Raji!’  The voice called out excitedly.  It was my cousin, Aakram.  ‘Raji, you must come with me to see what my goat has discovered,’ he pleaded.
‘A way to open the zip on my port and remove the remainder of my attire, I should imagine.’ I responded with sarcasm.  I was not really interested in what a goat had discovered.  I was more worried about missing the bus that was fast approaching.  I told him goodbye and thanked him for his hospitality, then said I would see him again as soon as I discovered a tailor that made goat proof clothes.
‘No, No, Raji,’ He had insisted.  ‘Please – you must come with me.  I may have found my fortune.  The goat ran into a cave and discovered a statue.’
‘So?  Put it in your garden,’ I sneered.  ‘It will make a lovely change for you to have something that the goats can’t chew.  Perhaps, with a bit of luck, they will snap of all their teeth trying to eat it and that should take my shoes off their menu.’  The bus pulled up, the door opened, and I started up the stairs.
‘The statue is full of jewels,’ Aakram called quickly, perhaps a tad too loudly as I noticed some of the passengers turn their heads in our direction.
‘Jewels,’ I repeated, now ensuring to keep my voice a bit quieter, and encourage my cousin to do the same thing, ‘Are you joking with me?’ I asked, still perched on the steps of the bus – ignoring the driver’s call for me to get in – or get off.
‘Yes, I mean, no. ’ he exclaimed excitedly, ‘I mean that I have found a statue covered in precious jewels, we will be rich – beyond our wildest dreams. Raji, you must come and see. I don’t know what to do with it.’
I didn’t know what to make of it all, but I decided that one more day couldn’t hurt so I waved the bus off and returned with him to his house and ignored the barrage of insulting abuse the bus driver threw in my direction despite the obvious embarrassment he caused the passengers who he knew would surely report him.”

********

While Raji narrated the story as he knew it, he was unaware of something of impending consequence that had taken place at that very point in time … at that particular place.  Seated on the bus, his face hidden just out of sight of the two men, a short, roly-poly, man recognised Raji and listened very intently to what he could hear of the conversation that was taking place; making a mental note of exactly where they were at that precise moment.  At this very moment of time he knew that his dreams were coming to fulfillment.  Very soon it would be he, not Raji, or the man standing beside him, who would become very rich.

********

“When we returned to Aakram’s house,” Raji continued, “he told me the full details regarding his find.  He explained that he had finally caught up with the goat at the base of a mountain about half a day’s walk from his home.  But every time that he tried to get close to the goat – it kept going further and further along the base of the mountain running in and out of virtually every cave it came to.  By nightfall he had given up any hope of catching it and he decided to rest inside one of the many caves for the night and return home the next morning. When the sun arose the next day he awoke to find the goat gnawing on his shoes.  I thought that to be sweet irony, but I said nothing.  He tried to catch it, but it ran off again, only this time in the opposite direction heading back towards his home, but sideways up the hill at the same time.  The stupid beast naturally moved faster than Aakram could on the rugged terrain, but Aakram pursued it as best he could, but suddenly the goat stopped running, simply remaining where it was as if waiting for Aakram to join him. My cousin wasn’t sure what game the idiot animal was playing at, but kept climbing in the hope that he could attach the rope he had brought with him and get him home. However, Aakram accidentally stood on some loose stones and slipped back back down the mountain for several yards before coming to a stop. And when he looked back up to where the goat had been standing, there was now nothing there. Aakram took a deep breath, silently cursed the errant goat, bit his lip, and continued on his journey upwards in hope of a miracle. And it was a miracle when he arrived on the ledge where the goat had been waiting; a miracle in the form of a bleating sound and the sight of the goat’s head popping out of a cave as if it was looking at him.
Aakram shook his head in disbelief as the goat bleated once more, then slowly turned around and headed deeper into the cave. My cousin thought he was going out of his mind. Was the goat playing games with him, or was the goat really asking him to follow it? Aakram felt that he had no choice in the matter and reluctantly walked into the dark cave.

********

My cousin was surprised by the light inside the cave, not only at the entrance. but something was telling him that light was also being reflected from somewhere deep within the cave.
There was, however, no sign of the goat anywhere in close proximity to the entrance; neither by sight, nor by sound, so Aakram pressed forward with barely enough light to see by, never mind provide him a guarantee of safety. However, he had travelled but twenty yards when his eyes, fast adjusting to the darkness, again noticed a glimmer of bright light in the far distance and began moving towards it, assuming that this was where the goat was. It was an eerie place in the early morning inside the cave, but it was cool, much cooler than it would have been outside in the constantly increasing heat that the sun would provide, and that gave Aakram the comfort to continue on his mysterious journey in pursuit of the delinquent goat.

********

For the first few minutes the journey was calming. Aakram felt the trepidation that had threatened to cloak him throughout the journey begin to lift.; now he felt reasonably safe. He also felt confident that the goat would co-operate once he had located him, and would allow the rope to be attached to his neck without argument and taken back to the safety of their home. He estimated it would take him five to ten minutes to reach the end of the tunnel and his waiting quarry. It all depended on how much the tricks of light fitted into the equation. ‘Yes.’ He had decided, ‘ten minutes there, fifteen minutes back to the entrance, and one hour back to the house. Just in time for breakfast and a hot coffee with my beautiful wife. And afterwards … perhaps? Aarkram never finished his sentence, but the smile on his face made me think I could guess’his thoughts”
Aakram said he felt excited and happy at the thought of getting back to his home and family, for it was only then that he really realised just how much of his time had been taken up by the errant goat. He felt like he had already beaten that obnoxious goat and began to walk with a swagger, a cocky smile upon his face, and happy thoughts running through his mind, or at least he did until the strange repugnant, sickening odour arrived at his nostrils, as the coolness of the cave suddenly turned ice cold … and as his entire body felt threatened that it would melt down under the pressure of the absolute fear that now covered it. But somehow, despite the fact his legs felt like jelly, his head like mush, and his stomach like a sewer pit, Aakram managed to find a way of running for his life.

********

Four minutes later Aakram had reached the far end of the tunnel … and a quandary. He had a choice of going up a narrow passageway that appeared to be an exit from the cave … or investigating the large, strange room he had arrived in. Strange, because it had what appeared to be several natural skylights embedded in the high part of the tall walls at the back of the room that would provide staggered natural light into the room depending on where the sun was, however, at the moment the sun was not much better here than it had been at the other end. By now Aakram was uncertain where he was, but assumed the cavern had wound its way parallel with the highway and he was now quite some some distance south from where he had first entered the cave. He suddenly remembered the mirrors that were hanging on the walls that reflected the light onto the corridor floor whenever there was a turn in the passageway as he had been running from the fear inducing sound and stench that had ruled over the corridor some distance back. He had managed to take this in as he passed the mirrors, but had been too frightened to stop and examine them to see if they were glass or something that had been highly polished such as stone or metal. But now, seeing as how he had survived the torturous trip; that nothing had followed or harmed him – he no longer cared and once again dismissed their presence from his mind.
But the unexpected decision he now had to make had also made him forget the fear that had induced his record breaking run through the cave, and once again he felt safe. However, the choice of the unknown made him feel uncertain as to what action he should now take. There was still no sound or sighting of the goat, and all he wanted to do was go home and leave the goat to his own devices. But, as if in reply to his own question, Aakram thought he heard the bleating of the goat coming from somewhere beyond the narrow passageway that he thought to be an exit. He immediately ran up the ramp, surprised to find a new tunnel with light not too far from where he was now standing, and took the risk and quickly made his way along it.

******

Less than ten seconds later Aakram took a right hand turn and found himself on level ground. But he was beyond simply being surprised by what he could now see; he was was beyond believing his own eyes. He had not gone on a winding trip through the mountain to an entry point not too far from where he had first entered the cave … he had gone right through the mountain. His eyes were looking at sand dunes that seemingly ran forever. It seemed impossible to him that he could walk into a cave one hundred, perhaps two hundred metres from road level, and come out at ground level on the other side, which is what he had done. However, my investigations eventually revealed that these mountains were once the fortress that protected the Punjani and they did indeed make modifications into the mountain’s foundations for their own benefit with the help of Rangor,

********

“So the statue was always in the mountains.” Joseph noted, Well, who was to know. Though I am once again in awe of the coincidences that keep appearing in this terrorising soap opera we are involving ourselves in. You had no idea that the Punjani and Rangor once operated across the road from where your ancestor’s lived, Raji?”
“No story anything like what I have learnt about either Rangor or the Punjani ever came from the lips of my family or friends. Perhaps my ancestors made a pact to let the secret die with them if they ever were aware of their existence, or maybe Rangor wiped his existence from their minds.
“Quite possible – either way, I suppose. Would you like to take a minute or so for a break, or a fresh cuppa before you go on?”
“No, I am fine, thank you, Joseph.”
“Then please continue, Raji.”

********

“With the exception of discovering there were two entrances to the cave, but on different levels of the mountain, the digression had been a waste of time … there was still no goat within sight. Then, to his surprise, my cousin distinctly heard the obnoxious sound of the equally obnoxious goat blaring out loudly from just inside the cave.
Aakram immediately ran back down the short corridor that led to the cave’s entrance and then into the cave itself. As he adjusted his eyes to the now semi-darkness the bloody goat, obviously ensuring he was the centre of attention once again, bleated loudly. Aakram could not quite make out exactly where the belligerent animal was in the limited light of this large room at the moment, but he thought the sound was coming from near what appeared to be a large slab of rock that resided at the back of the huge cave; somewhere in the shifting shadows beneath the strange skylights that were seemingly built into the top of the back wall.
Cautiously, he began to make his way towards where he hoped his quarry was holed up when, presumably, a cloud momentarily covered the sun’s rays and the entire room reverted to darkness. My cousin was in two minds regarding his next movement, but his feet resolved the matter for him when he found himself tripping over a rock invisible in the darkness that protruded out of the sand, and ending up falling on to what he assumed to be the large slab of rock. Fortunately for Aakram it was a soft landing in as much as he didn’t appear to fall too far, but whatever covered the slab it was rough and uneven. He felt several smallish, but never-the-less, sharp items like a large nut or bolt head digging into his arms, legs and stomach, and he found his right hand resting on something that felt just a little bit bigger than the span of his hand; he had no idea what it was at first, other than feeling cool and smooth, but it was at this point that the cloud passed over the cloud and Aakram now had enough light in the cave to discover his hand was resting on a skull.  In panic he quickly pulled back from the offensive object, and despite the pain caused by whatever he was lying on, he moved backwards as fast as he could to get himself off the slab. But that only led to a greater panic when his hand found itself frozen to the skull.  Then to add greater fear into his already over stressed heart he nearly had an anxiety attack when he heard the amplified snapping of brittle bones under his rising body as the skull came away from its skeleton that lay beneath him – while still in his trembling hands.

  ********

Aakram screamed like an old woman, to quote his own words.  He began to move away from the slab even faster, but, in his panic, he wasn’t watching where he was going.  Suddenly his spine felt as if the room temperature had dropped to one hundred degrees below zero as he began shivering in absolute fear of the sounds that now ran through his ears; the sounds of more bones snapping beneath his feet and, as he turned and looked down at the ground behind him, as the increasing rays from the sun lit up the room more rapidly, his eyes fed him the image of more and more skeletons spread around the room that he was certain were of human origin. Though there was every chance he was viewing the same skeletons over and over again as he made his constant fruitless attempts to leave the cave. 
My cousin’s mind became frenzied and disoriented, his feet continually moving around the room in circles, his brain totally incapable of planning a way of escaping from this chamber of nightmares.  The more that he moved, the more skeletons he came across, and the more crazy he became, until he tripped over something which brought him crashing to the ground. 
Initially Aakram just lay there, too fearful to move, expecting snakes, or scorpions, or whatever had killed the others, to get him as well.  But as he lay there, half crying, half praying, something on the slab caught his attention. Towards one end of the slab that had sent the fear of god into his now dysfunctional mind and body something was glittering like crazy; it was like a message of safety to him in his deranged sate; a message from the other side, perhaps … or even God himself, and it demanded his full attention which he gave willingly. The slowly shifting light that entered from the sun outside the cave obviously connected with something on the slab, but, for Aakram, in his current state of mind, the ever-increasing-in-size apparition was a divine intervention; an invitation to ignore the fear that currently governed his mind to concentrate purely on the healing powers of the light so he could escape from his suffering. He had no idea of the size of whatever it was that the light fell upon, but curiosity quickly overcame his fear; he crawled on his knees towards it, and when he felt close enough, he reached out to touch it.  He felt for certain that it was only light, rather than a genuine flame that he saw, and his courageous attempt to unravel the mystery appeared to be justified.  He found the unknown object to be reasonably small; much smaller than the illusion of the burning flame had made it out to be.  It also appeared to be smooth, but not smooth like the skull had been … it was more of a glassier feeling with ridges; something that he could possibly hold in his fingers … only it was firmly attached to something solid. 
But, from where he was kneeling, the sun’s constant intrusion into the cave kept changing the speed and size of the reflection, making it too hard to make out what it was from the way he was looking at it.  It was like having a camera light rapidly flashing inches from his face as it took photographs.  He then decided to change tact; Still on his knees he moved both closer, and around the slab to the side of the strange object until he felt more comfortable with the sun’s influence on it … and he got a shock as he suddenly noticed several more areas of the slab were beginning to display the same phenomena, only on a much smaller scale; smaller perhaps due to the limitation of the light.
For several seconds he let his eyes wander up and down the slab in equal appreciation of their minuscule beauty, then dismissed the newcomers to the party and gave all of his concentration to the one within his grasp, focusing everything on the item that had aroused his curiosity in the first instance until it made some sense to him.  From where he was now located, kneeling beside the top end of the slab, his perseverance soon paid off. Aakram soon realised that it was a gem stone that he was looking at; a red ruby* to be precise.  He also realised that the jewel had been attached to what he initially took to be a mummy’s sarcophagus half buried in the dirt.  It was an easy mistake to make at the time in the filtered light in the cave. Later, when I returned to the cave with him, with better lighting and some of the dirt removed from what we were looking at, Aakram and I would quickly realise that it was actually a statue.
Later, when we returned to the site, my cousin told me something he hadn’t mentioned earlier; he said that despite the beauty and tranquility it had displayed earlier, the precious stone had surged wickedness when he reached out and touched it for the first time. ‘It streamed evil out like a storm surges water from the heavens.’ he said. He had felt a fear like he had never encountered before; even more fear than anything else he had encountered within the cavern.  He said that the jewel felt like he was touching death itself.
But Aakram had also realised that he was looking at a potential fortune; he could be rich … extremely rich, and that thought tempered out the fear factor. ‘How could something of such value be evil?’ he had asked himself at the time.  The entire village could be rich. He was absolutely certain that he had a truly unique relic in his possession, and he was going to share it with his neighbours, for they were more like family than simply neighbours … every single one of them.  Then he remembered the smaller versions of the exotic display he had seen, and as he ran his hand back and forth across a wider portion of the statue’s chest he could feel several more jewels. He quickly began scraping away over a much larger area and soon realised that there were both rubies and diamonds to be discovered virtually everywhere he touched.  But that was not to be the end of it.  The limited, but never-the-less increasingly intrusive light from the ever rising sun that now began to flow along the sarcophagus itself made him feel absolutely guaranteed that the case was not only jewel lined, but cast in gold as well, which had added fuel to his mind’s incorrect suggestion that he was looking at a sarcophagus just like Tutankhamen’s.  He was elated with his find; excited to the point that he could swear that he could feel his heart thrashing equally as hard inside his chest, as in his head; beating like the drums that exploded from Australia’s AC/DC and the American and British heavy metal bands he loved so much.

********

In point of fact, his heart was beating so wildly Aakram was physically forced to make his way out of the cave – and slumped to the ground the second that he was outside in the warm morning air; he had to relax before his heart killed him.  He needed to think.  He needed a plan.  Then he remembered that I was still waiting for him at home and he was certain that I could help.  He went back into the cave and racked the dirt and stones he had brushed away from the sarcophagus back over it without thinking why he was doing it.  I asked him, but he had no idea. Perhaps his subconscious was worried somebody else’s cantankerous goat may wander into the cave and devour his find. Anyway, he did finally remember to collect the goat, but he had become so obsessed with his new mission he didn’t even notice how co-operative the goat had become and made his way back to his home where he arrived just as I was about to board the bus.

********

We immediately packed some provisions, including some torches and lamps, and headed off to where the ruby had been found.  It took us about an hour or so, but that was much less time than it had taken Aakram to find the goat … and the treasure in the first place.  But then we didn’t have to follow the idiotic rambling journey of the goat.  And when we got to the cave and lit the room up I realised that Aakram had discovered something very unique.  It was quite obvious to see that it was a statue, not a sarcophagus in the bright light we now had at our disposal, and it certainly had a lot of rubies and diamonds on it judging by what we could see without disturbing it anymore than Aakram had the first time he was in the cave.  In my mind I was happier with the statue than I would have been with a sarcophagus. I felt that it would make it a lot easier to move around without causing suspicion from various parties that may become involved with the physical transfer because it would need to be boxed for transport, and therefore safe from prying eyes.  And I felt certain that I could arrange for some special effects that would reduce the value of the item to all but an absolute expert’s eye; The gold would require a special coating of a paint or lacquer that camouflaged the gold as a cheap metal, and the jewellery would also have to have a similar conversion of their value.  But both would have to have a safe way of removing the camouflage to bring it back to its original value in order to sell it. I knew that it was possible to do this … I just had to ensure that it did happen.
I took photographs of the statue as it now presented itself and convinced Aakram to keep the find a secret until I came back.  He agreed to this immediately, but made me make one promise. He wanted a deal where he and his fellow tribesmen received a reasonable amount of money in return for the statue.  Enough to put some away for bad times, enough to help get their children a good education, but not enough to attract the attention of the wrong people.  Not attract anybody’s attention for that matter.   
This was still a dangerous country to live in, he told me, and the less money they were suddenly seen spending at the markets the better it would be for all of them.  They were simple people, he had said, and all they needed was some security for the future.  That would be all that they needed.  Oh, and he also requested that there was no publicity of the find.  He didn’t want the authorities to know that they were involved in the find, so whoever I dealt with had to take credit for finding the statue themselves.  There was to be no referral to the local villagers for any reason whatsoever. 

********

I returned to England to begin my search to identify what it was we had discovered… and to locate a buyer.  As it would turn out, my cousin’s sensory reaction to the statue turned out to be justified once you fully came to understanding the connection that linked the Punajniti, the Punjani … and the statue itself. I was indeed, surfing in dangerous territory with little, if any, support. 
But to start with I never had any intention of taking anybody to the site in case it all backfired on me and they stole the statue.  And with the same thought in mind I knew I had to be careful what I said to anybody as I carried out my investigations to get a background to the statue. I tried some discreet inquiries through the main libraries and museums, but got nowhere; nobody in official establishments had ever heard of the mysterious statue, far less recognised the statue in the drawings I supplied them.”
“I thought you had photographs, not drawings?”  Joseph interrupted.|
“Ah, yes I did.  However, I decided photographs of the statue could put me at risk.  Word may get round that I knew where the statue was if I had photographs of it.  I decided that I would get a trusted friend who is an excellent illustrator to copy the photographs in charcoal and a bit of flair.  What she produced was exactly what I wanted.  They looked like they were reproductions of some ancient art, rather than modern photographs of something half buried in the ground.  Further, she used her imagination to draw a complete statue, rather than having it mainly buried under a ton of dirt as in the photograph. And to add just enough intrigue to it, she had it standing upright in some untitled mystical middle-eastern ruins that was obviously several thousand years old.  That, and some little red herring characteristics she had placed in the background, made it hard to accurately calculate the age of the drawing, or give away its location. And she had managed to age the drawings. They certainly didn’t look really ancient, but it certainly didn’t look like it had been created recently either.  perhaps a hundred years ago. From what I have learnt about Rangor and the Punjani since I began my quest, the statue had been missing for many lifetimes. There would be nobody alive today that would have ever seen it in its original state of being built, and it is doubtful that there would have been drawings of it back in the day.  And even if there was, they would most likely only be draft sketches of the design for production purposes, not the end product.  From what I have since learnt the statue may not yet be complete. Also from what I have also learnt, anybody seeing my sketches for the first time would, most likely, have believed them to be the real thing if they were searching for the statue. But they wouldn’t have seen any reason to think that I knew where it was buried if they only saw a sketching, not a photograph.  The photograph would have been something different because in the photograph the statue was buried, and the photograph was digital.  It most certainly would have been a recent photograph; certainly not one from a time long before Kodak, never mind photoshop or Canon.   I may have been able to make the image look ancient, but not the paper it was printed on.
In the story I told during my museum visits I was only making inquiries about the statue out of curiosity, not saying that I had found it.  I had created a scenario in my approach for information where I had purchased an old chest at an antique market.  I would tell the museum staff and the historians I had found these old sketches hidden under a false bottom, along with some papers in a language I couldn’t understand.  I had accidentally lost the sheets of paper to the fireplace following a binge with a bottle of scotch when I was in a bit of a blue funk.  I was interested in the sketchings and wanted to know what I had stumbled on.  At the same time I was trying hard not to bring too much attention to myself when I made my inquiries.  I had only used the papers as bait to have whoever I was talking to assume the statue may have existed, but the ‘accidental’ destruction of whatever was on the burnt paper would be accepted as bad luck.  I had to ensure I always mentioned the destruction of the non existent sheets of paper when I first explained what I had purchased, and what I had found inside it that had set my curiosity off.  I never overstayed my welcome, nor became too excited or destroyed when the expert had advised me that they had no idea where I could start, I would simply thank them for their time and be on my way.  I have no idea why I had been so careful in my investigation, but something in the way my cousin had explained his feelings of evil surrounding his find, well I think it hit a nerve that I never quite walked away from.  As it turned out, he was right to be wary. 
Remember, I had never heard of Rangor or the Punjani when I first set out on my journey.  I was just hoping that somebody in the museum business, or a historian or two, may have heard stories over the years; some mysterious god that seemed to only exist in rumour or folklore, or something similar, and that would give me something to offer potential punters.  I had no idea what I was dealing with, and I knew I ran the risk that my statue may have been mixed up with some cult fanatics.  I had to play everything low key until I got my first real clues.                   
Eventually, I began to use google and some of the other browsers to gain some information without revealing details of the find.  Finally I found a few cross linked sites that put out a little bit about the ‘Punjaniti’ and the Punjani.  I learnt how the Punjani reportedly built a jewel-laden gold statue as a tribute to their god, and how it mysteriously disappeared when they were wiped out centuries ago. Actually, one of the articles seemed to indicate that several members of the Punjani may have escaped the carnage and have been searching for the statue ever since. 
Now, I am aware that very little that appears to be reputable on the internet can be relied on to be legitimate; the onus is always on the searcher to be wary and treat the results with caution, but the description of the statue on the website was pretty much the same as what I had seen in the cave.  Close enough, at least to assume that I had found a starting point, though even the websites failed to guarantee the existence of the cult, insisting that the possibilities of the Punjaniti and the Punjani only being a legend, and not a reality, was extremely likely.
However, I was determined that it was what I was seeking; there was too much of a coincidence otherwise.  The next step was to find the right people to sell it to, and if I could trace down living descendant of the Punjani … so much the better.  My instinct told me, if they existed, then they would make the best offer … if I could locate them, of course. If they were not interested, there would be plenty of other museums and collectors to be found … but my instinct told me to run with the Punjani. 
But how did I start to locate members of a cult that may no longer exist? Well, one site that had given me the original information on the Punjaniti and the Punjani had a link to a Professor Boris Robinson.  I made contact with him under the pretext of being an archeology student doing my thesis on ancient cults.  He supplied me with a lot of information, most of it useless, a lot appeared to be made up, and none of it of any benefit to my quest – or so I thought.

********

Over a month went by and I was on the verge of giving up on locating the Punjani and finding a more commercial customer when, to my never ending surprise, a gentleman turned up at my front door, identifying himself as a representative of the Punjani.
He refused to explain to me how he had learnt that I had been making enquiries regarding the Punjani … or how he had located my home.  Instead, he said that he wanted to know why I had become so interested in his family.  He preferred to speak about the Punjani as if they were really a family, rather than a clan.  I saw no problem with that and explained that I had possibly come across a statue that he and his friends may be interested in.  i took a risk, and when I showed him the pictures I immediately became worried that he was about to have a stroke he had become so excited.  When he finally calmed down he proceeded to tell me that the Punjani were a very wealthy organization and would be prepared to pay a substantial sum for the recovery of the statue … and anything else that I found connected with it.
When I mentioned that the statue was currently located overseas, he said that they had no problem with that, as long as I could guarantee transport to England.
I advised him that I had the contacts to do just that, and he agreed to the purchase at an agreed price.  However, it was emphasized quite strongly that discretion was paramount in this arrangement.  The Punjani’s existence was not to be mentioned to anyone unless deemed to be of absolute necessity. I assured him that was not a problem, and explained that the sellers who had found the statue had exactly the same request when it came to their names and the village location.  He looked hard at me for a moment, then smiled and said that he now had an idea where it may have been found and completely understood their situation.  He would not interfere, but I was to make certain that the goods were to be transported here to England, and then transferred to a location somewhat similar to Trenthamville so it’s arrival would not draw a lot of attention from the locals.  Trenthamville was not mentioned by name, it was eventually singled out simply by circumstances.  The Punjani had set out a series of points that a town or village had to meet, and Trenthamville had turned out to be the ultimate choice.  It had ticked every box, including a few that had not been actually included in the list.  Are you aware that the statue is supposed to have been used in some ritual this holiday weekend … and the ritual was to take place here in Trenthamville?”
“Yes,” Joseph answered, giving nothing away, “We have heard.”
“Any idea what it was all about?”
“Please just go on with your story, Raji.
“Fine,” Raji agreed with a grin, “The gods were with me from the very beginning.  My cousin had mentioned an archaeologist having his camp thirty five kilometres from where the statue was eventually located when I had first arrived for my visit.  I rang Aakram to see if the archaeologist was still there, and when he said that he was, I obtained as much information about him as I could get from my cousin.  I also made inquiries about the archaeologist through reliable sources, and what I heard back about Professor Tusacanni made me feel certain that he was exactly what I needed, and I made my plans around the information that I had obtained.

********

Several weeks later I returned to my cousin’s house and I paid him with the advance that the Punjani had given me.  I promised him an even greater payment once the statue was in the process of being transferred to its new owners.  He was more than happy with this arrangement because it had saved him having to deal with outsiders he couldn’t trust, and running the risk of the government finding out about the village’s sudden increase in wealth.”
“Was that when you gave the rubies from the statue to your cousin and his neighbours?”  Joseph asked.  “Wasn’t that taking a risk that some of the others in the village who didn’t get a ruby might try to steal the statue for themselves, or at least some of the diamonds and rubies?”
No, that was later; once the statue had been crated and was on its way to the shipping port. Six villagers along with Aakram were each given a ruby for helping the professor to remove the statue from its burial site and pack it for despatch to England. The payment had been made to my cousin and the six villagers as much for their silence, as for their physical contribution .The professor and his brother were told that the helpers were happy with the one ruby and would never talk about the day they had seen the statue to anybody. The professor had no reason to disbelieve that statement, and nothing more was ever mentioned about the transaction. The rubies would have been worth a small fortune in their own right, that is for certain. But in truth they were never really given to the men who helped recover the statue. The rubies, along with the money, went into a special hiding place where it would be made available to the community for future use, including their children’s education as was the original plan for the money.”
“If the village was so isolated,” Mary asked out of morbid curiosity, “wouldn’t it begin to wind down and disappear eventually. It sounds like they have a fortune stashed away. Who would end up with it? The last man standing.”
“Perhaps one day.” Raji replied with a laugh, “But that will be many, many years away. They will have plenty of time to use the money as a community. It is not a community of in-breds as you may be visualising. The old city and its villages may have separated, but the village I speak of simply chose to remain in the physical dwelling of their ancestors. But they were not separated from humanity. The village was not without the ability to have a social life outside of the village, it was just that nobody had any reason to visit them. When the city had closed, and the new cities had been built, the village chipped in and purchased two Kombi vans to transport the products that the villagers produced to the markets and the stores. and to take the children to their new schools, These vehicles were made available to use in a shared form by all of the villagers to travel to the new cities for socialising purposes in the evenings,but it was mainly the young that took advantage of this offering. Remember, the entire village was tied up in farming and production and the evenings were their rest times. The older generation were not that interested in the offerings of the night life. Eventually, of course, many of these trips resulted in people falling in love and eventual marriages filtering new life and blood into the village.
Over the years there have been the odd villagers who have moved out of the village with their new spouse, but in the main there has been a greater number moving into the village as newly weds, by that I mean married into one of the traditional families. Some dynasties were brought to extinction due to the two world wars; the young ones killed in the cross fires, the parents too old to start new families from scratch. The two world wars took their toll on our village as it had on the villages around us, and when the new cities and the new highway were created the other villages all conceded to the inevitability of a changing world and had moved to the new, bigger, cities for security; only we remained and continued to work as a community.
But, despite what I just said, the world around us is changing again and we need some stability in the lives of the children we will leave behind as we pass onto the next world, so the rubies and money will help provide the safety of their future should they too have to move, for there is no guarantee that they will ever find anyone to purchase their property. Of course one never knows what the future may hold, but taking out insurances to ease the pain of things not working out right never went astray.”

********

“Raji,” Joseph interrupted, “If this village of yours is such a paradise, why did you move to London?”
“Ah, yes.” Raji replied with a huge grin on his face, “In fact, I am the only man living that is known to have left the village without getting married being the reason, but that was not a sign of bad blood between us. It was simply the fact that both my parents had died in an accident when I was eighteen. The bus driver had a heart attack and slammed into the bus stop where my parents were seated waiting for the arrival of the bus to go to one of the two cities. I had no siblings, but I did have severe depression after the event. I had great difficulty in doing anything but mope around. Finally my condition grew so bad my uncle felt the need to do something unorthodox to overcome my pain. He knew that I had yearned to go to an English university throughout my entire youth. He suggested that I use the money I had inherited from my parent’s death to go to England to attend University. It would give me time to clear my head and gain an embarrassment of intellect at the same time. He had connections with Oxford and Cambridge, he told me without specifying the details, and said he could get me enrolled in most courses. He would also give me the difference in what I needed to support myself while I was living there. Eventually I took him up on his offer and moved to London; a move that I have never regretted, but did become obsessive with. I went to university, obtained my degrees and fell in love with England and have lived here for ten years now. I will, most likely, go back to my village again one day, but for the moment I am living the dream. Actually it was while I was attending university that I became involved in what became my vocation in life, and I am not at liberty to discuss any of the details, so don’t bother even thinking of asking any questions on the matter. Let’s just say it is the reason for my being here today.”
“Do you go back to the land of your birth often, Raji?”  Mary asked.
“No.  Ironically, this adventure began a few months ago on my very first trip home.  It had not been what I had been expecting, but it has certainly been worth the trip.
When I became involved in the sale of the statue it made sense to use the entire village in my plans. I knew all of the elders, and they all knew me. There was an immediate trust between all of us, and I could rely on their capabilities and enthusiasm to assist me. Aakram had always been going to share his new found wealth with them, and to select workers that could be trusted, and that would have taken the secret to their graves, well that was an absolute bonus. I had the perfect crew, I was working with life long friends, but I was always going back to London once the job was complete.

********

After I explained my plan to my cousin and his associates, I made contact with Professor Tusacanni, eternally grateful that I had made great use of Oxford’s fantastic arts and drama scene and learnt some helpful acting skills.  I put those skills to work on the Professor and mesmerised him with details I had obtained, albeit slightly embellished, in regard to the background of what I had found out about the statue.  Once he agreed to take the statue off my hands for seven rubies to pay for the seven workers, plus one for myself, I began to do what I needed to do in secret.

********

I arranged to have a secret G.P.S. tracker installed into the wooden box the professor had designed to be built to store the statue on its delivery here in England.  I am afraid that I took a bit of a mean turn at this stage. I have become acquainted with a newly developed drug which is still undergoing testing within British Intelligence because it seems that it has a side effect which causes a moral dilemma for both the user … and the government.  There are less than a handful of people even within the scientific lab and the government that are aware of the side effect, and then there is me.  And there is only one person but me that knows that I know … and that is because they are the one that told me.  And as a result of that person, I had accessibility to a small quantity of it.”
“And what drug is that, Raji, pray tell?”  Joseph asked as he rolled his eyes with frustration at Raji’s self centred dramatics, “and what, exactly, does it do?|
“It is not the name of the drug, that should concern you, Joseph,” Raji replied with a coy smile, “it’s the side effect.  It allows the person injected to be hypnotised.”
“You hypnotised the professor and his brother?”  Joseph asked in disbelief, “Why?”
“It was not a harmful suggestion, though it could have been had I so wished to use it for a more sombre reason.  Hence the moral dilemma the government faced based on the limitless illegal or immoral situations that could be initiated if the knowledge of the side effect fell into the wrong hands.  But all I did was spike their tea, then once I could see their eyes begin to roll backwards and forwards I suggested that they shipped the statue to Trenthamville in rural England.  All they needed to do was follow a few suggestions I gave them in regards to where they placed their shipping instructions … and the wording they used.  Everything would fall into place as long as they did what I instructed. Then I told them to hide these instructions within their minds until the time was right, until then they were to put all thoughts of shipping and Trenthamville out of their minds.”
It took less than a minute and a half to give them their instructions, and within the total of ten minutes, they were back to normal, their minds no longer open to the power of suggestion, but their instructions fully implanted within their minds.”
“Do you mean that the side effect only lasts for ten minutes?”  Mary asked in some confusion.”  That is not very long, is it!”
“No, Mary.”  Joseph interrupted, “I think that Raji is saying that you have only a relatively short time frame in order to tell the affected party what you want of them before the real effect of the drug takes over.  Then, once that time frame had elapsed, the power of suggestion can no longer work on the victim.  But whatever was inserted into their mind has been stored unknowingly by the victim … and it can never be revoked.  Whatever the victim has been asked to do, they will do when the time arrives.  Is that not right, Raji.”
“Joseph is right, Mary.  They were only instructions for where to send the statue and the relevant information for the paperwork that was required to process the statue through the various government and commercial bodies it would run into.  It was preferable that the statue made the entire trip without the need to open the box before it arrived at the farm.  I used contacts that I had in customs at both ends to ensure that the professor had no difficulty in moving the statue between countries.  As I said earlier, I had a transmitter implanted into the crate and was able to trace its movements between countries.   However I encountered some problems when it actually arrived in England and lost track of it for a while.  I knew for certain that it had cleared customs, so the transmitter must have been damaged when it was transported between customs and arriving here in Trenthamville, and it took me some time to locate where Professor Tusaccani had taken the statue … all I had originally known was that he was going to transport it to the village, but not the final location.  I had let him make his own arrangements in deciding where he would stay because otherwise I would have had to become involved in the leasing of the property to ensure that he got it … and that I did not want.  It would have made him suspicious if I offered to make a booking for him in a foreign country; me a humble peasant that lived on goat farm, at the edge of a desert. Better off letting the g.p.s. and my instructions to his mind do my work for me. However, I wasn’t expecting the g.p.s. to break down either. 
And when I did finally track him down, I had not expected him to take such extreme precautions with it.  He had made it virtually impossible for us to find the statue; all I could do was watch and wait.  I eventually became worried that the statue may have become lost in transit, or even worse, it may have been stolen, but of course I couldn’t just go up and knock on the farmhouse door and ask for my statue back.”  
“I am surprised that you just didn’t knock on the front door and ask him where it was.” Joseph interrupted without thinking.
“That’s not my style.”  Raji replied with a grin, “Besides, if he had recognised me, then that would have complicated things immensely.  He would have become suspicious and most likely clammed up on its location.  Our job was never to kill him, or even hurt him, but we couldn’t run the risk that he would talk about his find openly before we had taken possession.   Once we had the statue he would have no proof of its existence outside of the photographs and notes he had taken … and most experts would have thought them to be fakes.
“How could you be so sure about that?”  Martin asked out of curiosity.
“Firstly because there are very few experts in this field; there is very little known about the Punjaniti.  His early movements took place in the mountains where my cousin lives, and at towns and villages that are no longer towns and villages; haven’t been for a long, long time.  The Punjani’s reign of terror never took them too far away from home.  And secondly because nobody had seen the statue since it had disappeared. Nobody alive, that is … it would have been impossible.  Nobody on this planet has ever lived that long.  Not even Methuselah.
“I am curious about two things, Raji,” Joseph said with a sombre expression on his face, “Firstly, how did you eventually locate the right farm
“Like a flatfooted policeman, I am afraid. The farmers in this country like giving names to to their farms, even when it is something simple like Paddy’s Patch. I went on-line searching for a list of all of the farms in Trenthamville which I obtained from the council’s site. I then, one by one, entered the name of each farm followed by the word ‘rental‘ into the search field of my laptop. From each match I was able to visually see the farm or building, and ascertain whether it was a rental, and if it was currently rented and I obtained the location of what appeared to a reasonable candidate on my third attempt. I then rang the estate agent who confirmed Professor Tussacani was the current occupant.”
“Very good move, Ravi,” Joseph said with admiration for the simplicity of it all.”You would make a good policeman.
“Thank you, Joseph.” Ravi replied with a self satisfied grin covering his face,
“And the second question?”
“The main reason for the drug you injected into Professor Tusaccani. What was its main purpose in use?”
“Oh,” Raji replied in a sheepish voice as a sudden, embarrassing, thought entered his mind, “I think that you would make a good policeman too, Joseph. It was meant to knock the victim out for a time span between ten minutes and ten days depending on the strength of the injection. It has to be measured before being loaded into a syringe for the larger doses. But it can be injected into a consumable item like food or as a liquid. with an ear dropper. That is all that I used. I only gave them one drop each in their cup of tea. He was actually unconscious for twelve and a half minutes, his brother for the same. I timed them. He thought that he had been just starting to doze off, must have been working too hard, he thought. He was as fit as a fiddle after that. That is the way it is supposed to work. The victim does not realise they have been asleep until time tells them so, and even then they are likely to assume that they have lost track of time rather than been sleeping through it. And they are never going to know that they have been hypnotised.
“So this drug is similar to Ramanas. There is no chance that you or your friend in the ministry could have injected the professor, is there?”
“No.” Ravi rejected, defensively denying the trap he felt he had fallen into, “I never saw the connection until just now. That is why I said you would make a good policeman. But no, I had nothing to do with Professor Tusaccani’s condition … I swear to you.
“Hmmmn. Joseph responded noncommittedly, “What did you do once you found where he was staying.
“I just had to bide my time … everything else had fallen into place for me, and I was certain that the next step would too. But I was wrong it seemed … fate was beginning to turn against me for the moment. I went out to the farm with my off-sider, Argosi, and tried to work out where they would have stored the statue and the barn seemed the most logical place. I was in luck at first when somebody arrived at the farm and the professor and his brother went outside the barn to have their lunch with him seated at a small table with some old chairs. It seemed a natural and regular custom for them and I took advantage of the slack security measures and began to check the barn through the windows while Argosi kept watch on the diners, but I could see nothing of the statue … it was far too dark in so much of the barn, and I saw no way of gaining entry through the doorway without being seen by the diners. I finally decided that it was in there somewhere, but I didn’t have time at the moment to wait around for opportunity when it arrived to do a thorougher search. I drove Argosi back to the village where we purchased enough supplies to last him several days, along with a five step ladder, then drove him back to the farm where he was to set up camp under the barn with instructions to safely check what the farm occupants were doing inside the barn on an hourly basis. We had noticed the barn floor had been raised for some unknown reason on the driveway side a bit further down from where we were standing. It hadn’t been raised a huge distance, but certainly supplied room enough to allow Argosi to rest, eat and sleep and not be seen from the outside. The reasonably small ladder would give him access to the windows not far up the driveway from his hiding place, and we set up a sensor at the entry to the farm from the road that would give him early warning should he have visitors arriving, and it would so before they could see him while he was peering through the windows. This would give him time to return to the ground and easily pull the ladder under the barn with him. In the meantime I had to round up my helpers back in London and that ended up taking a lot longer than I had expected it to for one reason or another.

********

When I finally arrived back in the village I got to hear about the strange things that had taken place in the village from the man at the garage. I had only questioned him about the whereabouts of the farm to see if he mentioned anything about the professor in case he had suddenly left the area, or if everybody had suddenly became aware of the existence of the statue because I had not heard from Angosi, and had not been able to contact him for the past forty eight hours or so. I did not know why he had not contacted me, but I had certainly not expected to hear what the man at the garage had told me, both about the strange events that had taken place at the farm … and the professor’s current affliction.
As soon as I heard what had happened we went straight to the farm and, finding it currently unoccupied and unlocked, we carried out a thorough search of the house and barn, but it turned out to be a fruitless search. I contacted the Punjani and explained the situation. It turned out that the Punjani had been discreetly keeping tabs on the professor’s family should the professor contact them with advice that he was changing plans for any reason, which, of course, he wasn’t. But they did become aware that he had become comatose when Rosetta contacted Martin for help and guidance after the doctor that had treated her father had advised her that he thought he may have been injected with Ramanes. They assumed that Martin would investigate obtaining a cure and they would guide him my way. They were adamant that they had nothing to do with the professor’s situation, but did have a cure which they would exchange for the recovery of the statue. A miscellaneous call from an alleged co-worker at the hospital where the professor was hospitalised would contact Martin and give him my contact details, and then it was up to me.
The Punjani guaranteed that they would not interfere in anyway, and agreed that we would allow Martin to do the search on our behalf, but it would be done so under my surveillance. And when Joseph was brought into the equation, they were more than pleased … though they never said why. But from what I have seen of him, I can understand their joy.”

********

“So you were not in the village on the night of the long light?” Joseph asked.
“That’s what the mechanic called it.  No. I had gone to London that same day and did not return until the Friday you arrived. I had arrived at the farm not long before you did. Luckily for me the sensor was still active and I heard it. The receiver was lying on the ground in the driveway near where Angosi had been hiding Before that moment I thought that Angosi, who was supposed to be keeping a watch on the farm, must have just quit without telling anybody.  He simply disappeared without a trace. I had engaged him to keep a check on the goings on there as soon as I was certain that was where the statue was hidden, while I organised my helpers.  Now I am wondering that maybe something happened to him that night.  Perhaps he was killed by the same persons responsible for the slaughter of my helpers? Who knows?”  Raji shrugged, and Joseph felt certain that he had seen a shiver run down Raji’s back as he did. 
Joseph was bemused by the way Raji had referred to him in the positive and he wondered just who they thought him to be, and what his vocation was … and especially why the Punjani were so pleased for his co-operation. But he said nothing.  It was in nobody’s interest for him to give the game away by asking stupid questions … especially now, when things were beginning to get some results.
“Once I had you two involved I took a back seat and let you two find it for me, as you promised that you would.”  Raji continued, “I knew that you would be loyal to the beautiful Rosetta and would resist any attempt to retrieve the rubies for yourselves, so all would end well for everybody … until now, that is.”
“Tell us what happened at the farm, Raji.”  Joseph suddenly interrupted.  By this stage he had no care whatsoever regarding how Raji had gotten himself involved with the Punjani.  Something had obviously gone wrong at the farm and he needed to know what it was.
Raji’s face paled at the thought of letting his mind travel back to the carnage he had left behind him at the farm.
“I received a call from my Punjani contact just after clarifying my instructions to my helpers and I went outside the barn to take it.  Judging by the noise that the men were making as I walked through the barn door I assumed that they had been successful in locating the statue.  But that was the last thing I remember until I woke up with a throbbing head.  I must have had a rather nasty whack to the head because at first I wasn’t sure why I was on the ground.  However, I soon became aware that I was holding a phone in my hand and I checked to see if there was anybody on the other end, but that turned out to be a waste of time.  I somehow managed to get up and go back into the barn … and that certainly cleared my head, or my stomach to be exact.  In my entire life, I had never expected to cast my eyes over a scene as demoralising as the blood drenched bodies of my crew; murdered with such viciousness it turned my stomach.”  Raji then went on to explain how he had found the tractor moved and the boards pulled up, and the truck missing.  And as far as he could see – so was the statue.
“Had they all been shot?” Joseph asked, “Or was it something worse?”
“Yes. No. Well, all but the two that I sent into the house to get the knife had been shot.  I don’t know what happened to these two.  When I went inside the house the floor was a mess, I found remnants of the clothes that Harranji had been wearing lying on the floor in the hallway that led to the front door.  I also found his ring … but I didn’t find any bodies.  And part of the floor was all chewed up. In fact I think that it was burnt around the edges. I really have no idea what happened to them, but they were no longer at the farm.”
“Spontaneous combustion, or the creature.” Joseph stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You choose.  Actually, it probably was Rangor if the floorboard was singed. It is kind of irrelevant now, or so it seems.
“I am sorry, I don’t understand?” 
“No, it is I who should be sorry.  There is something in that room … something that kills by sending so much energy into a body that the internal fluids literally boil until they explode, and even then the body keeps melting till it is no longer recognizable. We think that it is the Punjaniti itself, or an entity operating on its behalf.”  Joseph sighed deeply, as his brain again relinquished any attempt to deny the existence of Rangor, and all of the things that had happened over the past few days; the way Joseph now saw things, rationalisation was no longer an option – realisation was now an acceptable format. There was no more excuses, what was happening – was happening and they had to deal it.
“And you sent us there, knowing that that thing would try to kill us?” Raji asked in a confused state of thought.  His mercenary soul admiring such a cunning and insidious way of disposing of obstructions in one’s path, but his moral side, which was his greatest strength, felt that was not a particularly nice thing to do.
“No.  Not intentionally.  I tried to warn you; though I truly believed that you were part of the Punjani and would, therefore, know how to handle the attacks, unlike us.   The only way that we know how to deal with it is to avoid it.  I am absolutely certain that the sacrificial knife that Rangor wants is buried within the pile. But we couldn’t find it easily, and we never saw any reason to pursue it; too dangerous, we thought.  It was the statue that we sought and we decided that we could better occupy our time searching for it, rather than expressing a death wish in a farmhouse kitchen. However, when we discovered the power that was being discharged – it was confined to the inner circle.  From what you have indicated it seems to have increased its abilities … and that is a worry.     
We have no idea what is powering the energy source and we hoped that it was just going to stop of its own accord.  I am sorry that your friends died, but believe me … we have no idea what is really going on in this village. All we ever seem to get is some individual bits of a huge jigsaw puzzle.   Most of what we know, we have worked out ourselves … and we have no idea if we have been right in our assumptions of what has taken place, and what has proved to be correct, have simply been a co-incidence.  And some things seem to come out of nowhere; things like working out where the statue was.  It really just fell into my head, and it wasn’t until I explained it to you that I fully understood it myself.”       
“Perhaps there is still a limit to its capabilities.” Martin offered, “If it needs to control some areas all of the time, then it may have weak spots where its power isn’t quite so strong.  That would explain why the three of us escaped its futile attempt on our lives last evening.  If it has to patrol the farm, and the hotel here…and the garage and God knows where else … then surely its powers must be somewhat stretched.

********

The group fell silent.  They sat there for some time before William, who had been standing at the open doorway for most of the conversation, brought himself to their attention.
“He will be arriving shortly.” William stated boldly, “and he will be out of control.”