The doctor leans back in his chair. It creaks dryly under the load. “So. You remain convinced that your delusions are in fact real, ja? Despite all reasonable argument to the contrary?”
Abowie nods glumly.
“So then Herr Bowie, what will you do?”
“I have to go back, of course. Perhaps if I take a rope with me I can get to the cache. Or a big ladder. And then there’s Bronze, and Silver and Gold. I have to know Dr von Hisco!”
“Very well. I see that nothing can stop you. Go then, and come back next week when you have completed this foolishness. It will serve to prove to you that this is all fantasy. Then we can get on with your therapy.”
Abowie nods slowly, then gets up and leaves the room.
The door closes, leaving the doctor alone in his chair. Calmly he makes a few final cryptic notes and then getting up, he walks across to the window. Opening the curtains he pauses, looking out into the night.
A black clad figure steps silently into view out of the darkness and speaks, his voice a fey, barely audible hiss. “So?”
“Ah Master. You startled me” says the psychiatrist. His voice shakes slightly and he swallows. “It is as you said. His compulsion was weakening but believe I have managed to unsettle him enough that he will try again, and will no doubt imperil himself. He cannot resist the lure of the cache. Your success is an inevitability!”
The figure leans close and whispers. “Good, good. You have done well. You will be rewarded Riblet.” The doctor clicks his heels together and salutes.
With that Zytheran turns, and lopes off into the night, laughing out loud. Beware, geocacher, beware