Chapter 33

The early Monday morning trip in the rain ended when Nat parked under the main entrance’s sheltering overhang. He tapped his ear. “Call me on the tac channel when you’re ready to travel. Somebody will come get you home in the rain. Give our regards to Maggie. This whole deal is bad news.”

Melba Rappaport met us in the lobby. “If you want to be there for her when Mr. Riker passes, you better hurry. Room 410. The elevator is waiting.” I nodded ‘thanks’ as we rushed to be with Maggie.

Zack and Ella were in the little ‘hospice’ section of the ward. He had just arrived, having come by to take care of the necessary but grim ‘business of death’. I’m sure all of us has or will have to deal with the paperwork, funeral arrangements, transport of the earthly remains and all of the clinical details of closing out a person’s identity. That you are at your most emotionally fragile doesn’t change the facts. It has to be done. He knew what to do and was ready to move. Ella, on guard duty at the hospital, was there for emotional support. She waved us in.

“He’s circling the drain, Major. Maggie shouldn’t be alone.” She spoke softly as we went into the room where Maggie sat on the edge of the bed. She looked ‘cried out’. Her grandfather, disconnected from all the wires and tubes, appeared small and weak but at peace. He was ready.

I stepped to the other side and touched his shoulder. “Mr. Michael Riker, you don’t know me, but I am one of the many who will remember your life. You served your country and your community well, not just through the military and law enforcement service, but through the jobs you provided, supporting the families of your employees. You improved the lives of hundreds. By all signs, you raised a fine son willing to encounter hardship to aid strangers in hostile, far away places.”

I gripped his forearm firmly. “Sir, thanks to your nurturing and to the examples you set, your granddaughter is becoming a fine young woman, who will give the world more than she takes. Be assured, Maggie will carry on your legacy.”

Now close to his ear, I used a gentle version of the Voice. “Words usually spoken at eulogies are words which need to be said while they can be heard by the guest of honor.” I swear he smiled faintly. “I cannot know what happens next on your journey, but believe me when I tell you, yours was a life worth living. The world is a better place because of you, because of the people you touched. You made a difference and no man can hope to do more. Thank you.”

His hold on Maggie’s hand firmed slightly as she kissed his cheek and he relaxed further, crossing over into the unknown. She sobbed quietly when she realized he was gone. “Good bye, Granddaddy. Say hello to my Dad and Mom. Hug Granny for me. Tell her I miss her cooking and little stories. Don’t worry about me. You taught me how to be strong. I’ll be OK. Thank you.”

I rounded the bed and hugged her from behind. “Are you really ‘OK’?”

“Better than I thought I would be, Mark. We had time together at the end most people don’t get. Grandpa was at peace with his fate but was concerned for me.” She smiled sadly. “Intellectually, you know it is coming and try to be ready, but when it really happens, you know nothing can make you ready. You can’t make it not hurt. I know his pain is over, but I will always have a hole in my world.”

“Maggie dear, it will always be there. You will eventually learn to walk around it. It is no consolation today, but you shared precious moments you will treasure forever. Some don’t get the chance to say good-bye.” I was honest, “Maggie, I’m not being mean or cold, but his struggle is over. The sorrow we feel is for our loss. Try to convert your sorrow to a celebration of the life you shared with him, remembering the good times with joy, how lucky you were to have had him in your life.

“That’s what he said, that most of the grief is for personal loss, really just self-pity, and that he wanted no part of it. ‘You are allowed to mourn my passing as I mourned my son and daughter-in-law, but not your loss. Life is full of loss. Draw strength from our family and build your life on that. Be grateful for what you had. I will not have you crippled by self-pity on account of me.’ He said that it would kill him if his death caused more pain.” She laughed a little. “I told him he was a better plumber than comedian and not to give up the day job. His answer was that the career choice was out of his hands and to wish him luck.”

We spoke of inconsequential things for a little while as the finality sank in.

“Was he aware of your brush with the hereafter?” I asked carefully, “Did he know the details?”

“He knew I dodged a bullet but not the whole story. I couldn’t tell him that our family line was probably going to end with me. I may never have offspring unless I can convince someone to do the ‘in vitro’/surrogate mom thing. But you have immediate family falling out of the sky like identical snowflakes.” She grinned, the first real sign she was going to be ‘OK’. “I’m pretty sure children and sisters are not lurking in my background, unlike some people I know. Two sisters and two daughters? Really!”

“It gets better. Two more sisters about whom I knew nothing before they introduced themselves much like Cynthia and Elaine did when they ambushed me. My dear old Dad, Mom and Mom’s secret twin sister, Connie, whom I also never suspected, were busy while my back was turned.” I grinned back. “You would know for sure if you had daughters but don’t be so sure you’re an only child. My parents were weird. Who’s to say yours weren’t a little bent? You got your wild and daring streak somewhere.”

Her eyes got big. “Like Cyn and Lanie introduced themselves?”

“Exactly. Four for four.” I shrugged. “You’ll meet both. They were assigned to Ten Penny.”

The other girls in the room heard the whole conversation. “That discussion is for another day, Maggie, and will be worth the wait. But seriously think of this.” Beth commented, “You may be buried in distant relatives before the will is probated. Be very careful. Mr. Riker’s medical expenses may have eaten a big chunk of your savings, but the life insurance is considerable.”

Maggie looked very surprised. “How do your know this?”

“Remember, I’m a lawyer who owns a research company. My sisters and I are good at what we do. If I can’t use my resources to protect friends, what’s the point? Besides, you need to know how easy it is for anyone to fake a claim to your trust fund. Most of the information is in the public record.”

“What trust fund? We spent almost everything either of us had.”

“Not even close. The insurance will pay the balance due on the co-op you live in and the building housing his company.” Carol started laughing. “You didn’t know? Your grandfather signed over half of his company to you when your parents were killed. He sold the company, not the building. Your half of the proceeds, the co-op and the deed to the property are held in trust, but you can’t touch it until you reach twenty-one or get a four year college degree. But you can, with warning, help control the trustees who might drain the fund.”

“Grandpa did a good thing then. As soon as Mark signs and someone does the notary thing, I will be the ward of one Mr. Mark Carlyle Allyn. He will be my sole trustee. Until now, I didn’t know why I had to have a trustee. Do you think I can trust him to act in my best interest?”

“I hear he’s a little flaky sometimes and runs in fast company, but we’ll keep an eye on him for you.” Billi said. “If he decides he likes you, may the Goddess have mercy on anyone who tries to rip you off because he won’t.”

“He’ll treat you like a long lost sister.” Frieda thought that was hilarious. “Just ask his long lost sisters how thoroughly he treated them before he knew they were even sisters!”

Anne added, “For the matter at hand, we will not know the nitty gritty until the reading of the will. At your request, we can vet the strangers who show up to listen. Give us a dollar and we will take you on as a client.” She really grinned. “Give Mark two dollars and he will loose the big spy dogs. We’ll know what they had for lunch a month ago.”

Zack interrupted from the door. “Don’t mean to be rude, but the staff needs to ready Mr. Riker for transport to the crematorium. Once we make the arrangements, he wanted his ashes scattered over the Hudson River during a memorial service at the Cloisters if Maggie decides to have services at all. He made that much clear. The helicopter girls at Ten Penny will do the honors. For that, there is no rush. His words, ‘Let her take her time. I’ll keep.’ Until the very end, that man had style and humor. He was easy to like. I consider myself lucky to have met him.”

We exited and met the hospice nurse in the hall. “There is no need for an autopsy, Ms Riker. With Hospice involved, the cause of death is never questioned. He will be treated with respect. I am sorry for your loss, for our loss. Michael Riker was a good man.”

Tina Karlson met us in the lobby. “Nat asked me to check in before I went back to the Bat Cave. Y’all need a ride?”

“Lots of them. Maggie and Frieda need to get to the Rikers’ place to get Maggie’s things, them to Levi’s house to get whatever he forgot to send over. Is the truck still at Maggie’s, partially loaded?”

“Yep. Driven by members of New York’s Finest. They are still standing watch. What’s the plan?”

“You should drop me off at Zephyr House, then take Maggie and Frieda to the Rikers’. After that, the triplets need to get to Chandler’s Row and prepare to become PhDs and licensed attorneys. Billi, their legal ward, should visit her official residence at least once, so she stays with them downtown.”

“You taking the day off?” Tina joked.

“Not a chance. I get to be available for Amy if she gets blowback from the red tape world about the place under the bridge, receive and pass out the new badges, and I have to meet with Celeste’s grandmother up at 72nd Street.”

“Don’t big bad trolls live under bridges?” Billi asked.

“Yes. The biggest and baddest trolls, the ones who gobble up all the billy goats gruff.” I returned, “So you better watch out.”

Amy spoke in my ear. “Stay there for a few more minutes. Your bureaucracy slayers are meeting you for signatures. Willis thinks this is your best insane idea ever and Albert just thinks you are padding his accounts receivable. Monte is dealing with the utilities. I transferred the whole 100 grand plus ten percent for incidentals and you will have title to the Troll Palace before the end of the day.”

“Good work, Amy. Pass the word to Celeste about the visit uptown.” I was still getting updates on the busyness at home when my guys strolled in.

Albert opened his briefcase, extracted a sheaf of paperwork and handed me a pen. “Sign on the lines before the funny farm folks catch up.” His stern mien cracked. “This may be your best crazy choice ever, Mark. Willis says the area is ripe for gentrification and commercial development. All it needs is a boost to grow big. You may be that boost. He is looking for listings and catchy names.”

“How about ‘Britrozo’? BRidge TRoll ZOne. Or ‘Brodela?’ BRidge Over DELancey Area.” Beth giggled. “It pains me to admit it, but we need Max.”

“I heard that!” Max was eavesdropping. “How’s about ‘FRODO’? Franklin Roosevelt (Drive) Over Delancey Outlet. Maybe Delancey East of Colombia Area, ‘DECA’?”

“Hold on to that day job, sister.” Anne advised, “You’re gonna need it.”

Razzberries.

It took no time at all to get the papers signed and notarized. I bought a building under a bridge that shouldn’t be there and assumed responsiblity for Maggie Riker, presumed orphan.

We were on our way before 9:00 AM, perfect for a rainy Monday in New York. Not. People were crabby and disagreeable, getting around on the surface was a stone cold chore. I wonder how much an Abrams battle tank cost? I could get a 50-ton Cat Crawler with a dozer blade and air horn for the SeaBee to use. It would take up a lot of space at the parking garage but street parking would be a snap.

Tina was in rare form. She made Don Rickles sound like Mr. Rogers. The Humvee had a PA system and she knew how to use it! “Hey you, yeah the butthead texting in that shitbox Benz. You gonna get out of the way or do you want I should redesign your sheet metal?” “Yo bitch, cut me off one more time and I’ll put tire tracks on your fat ass.” “You think that Ma Deuce in the turret is decoration? Wanna find out the hard way?” “Move it, bozo! This ain’t a parking lot.” “Put that makeup away and pay attention, woman. It doesn’t help. You’re wasting my time and your money.” “If my dog looked like you, I’d put lipstick on its ass and make her walk backwards!”

And so on. But the pace did pick up dramatically. Faster than the traffic would allow otherwise and more entertaining than the trip earlier, it only took three times longer to get home. Did I mention the flashing lights and cell phone scrambler? The license plate was in the back seat.

Real New Yorkers generally appreciate a creative, literate rant. Most would use it later. I had her drop me off a block away and walked to the house. Just in case some of the listeners were from out of town. Few outsiders had the sense of irony or the love of a well spoken threat natural to city folk.

Home was the normal orchestrated chaos. Connie and Bonnie had returned to the pier to pitch in with the Ten Penny projects. The Bakers, Billi, Maggie and Frieda were on their own missions. Phoebe was in near constant contact with Billings and the CDC teams. They were evaluating a list of applicants for Phoebe’s clinical staff, while scheduling the installations and shakedown tests.

This made me nervous. They never did anything quickly unless the situation was dire. The spooks were moving at light speed to finish this excessively equipped facility for reasons unstated. All I needed was a hint to ferret out those reasons, but so far none was forthcoming.

A blind untargeted search was pointless. Some sort of threat always existed. The problem was choosing the most eminent among dozens. Billings always gave us adequate warning if he could or he asked for help. I could be sure of that, so I decided to wait and see.

Emma and Ellie had taken the transfers (Polly, Holly, Kelli, Vicki, the Tanners, my sisters and daughters) to Bingham-Hampton Academy to register, pay fees and schedule placement tests if suggested by Rochelle Cooper. That could burn most of the day.

Counting noses, 19 regular Z-Girls or resident RIAs were out on various errands and the Pier Girls and Tina were out being busy Pennys, leaving only 21 girls were at home. Amy had it all under control, running her own punch list of chores to keep the house organized.

The new ID packets were in a small box in a filing cabinet. The colonel included a case each of Glock Model 24s and Walther PPKs for the new agents. Lulu, and Billi were cleared as 4s. Maggie, my half-sisters, the Ellis twins and the James Gang rated 5s based on family affiliations.

Frieda and Celeste (someone had been busy!) were classified at a lofty 6, the first due to her international intelligence community connections and the other because the Colonel and the senior Ryans had some history. The defense applications of the MMTG material was tightly restricted to ‘need to know’, as before. The formulation was considered a State Secret the state did not have reason to know.

Amy seemed to be happily involved. The house was secure and protected by my fighters, Sioux and Bullet, so I decided to pay a visit to Mrs. Judith Ochs Ryan and learn things. I rounded up the girls to keep me company.

“Celeste, call your Granny and see if she has time for a visit. If she’s good, you and Patty dress in something appropriate for the weather and come along.”

Mrs. Ryan was cool, so as they prepped for the outing, I found Amy, Toon, Eve and the Baxters. “We’ll be up at 72nd Street for a while. You and the other defenders are at DefCon 3 until I get back.”

Toon looked shocked. “Trouble brewing? What’s up, Master?”

I explained as I donned the Airwear version of a men’s sport shirt in solid strong green. (It was water resistant.) “Things seem unsettled. Nothing in particular, Sweety, it’s just that our primary offensive forces are away and I want you girls to be alert and aware of opportunistic unpleasant probes. Amy has everything battened down but I want you ready for the unexpected, especially during the deliveries. They do not enter the buildings past the lobby and load in through the old front door on our flat trucks only.”

“Got it, Sir. I’ll have Leigh and Nell scan for bugs and bombs, too. If I suspect anything, it sits in the rain or I send it back.” Amy agreed quickly. “Not enough red tape for the activity level, I noticed it too. Not hot, but warming.” She and the defenders ran off to warn Bullet and Sioux to gear up.

Patty and Celeste returned, giving me ample cause to redefine ‘appropriate for the weather’. Silver cellophane panties, half-sheer white mini-skirts and matching half-halters, plus the usual S/S Airwear logo closure at the collar and a necklace with a super saturated ‘Z-Girl’ pendant hanging at nipple level. No titivation. Bare nipple on naked tit. Plastic sandals and a small solid white fanny pack on a silver chain belt, worn to the side, topped the ensemble.

I didn’t question the fashion statement. They knew it was raining as well as I. I did, however put a few dry cotton tank tee-shirts and the girls’ Glocks, Celeste’s ID wallet and badges in my briefcase with a couple of spring rings to hang the laminates. I seldom travel these days without my Desert Eagle. Today was no exception.

“You ready to take a stroll?” I asked with a straight face. “Worried about the humidity?”

“No biggie. It’s warm out, the clothes are water proof and we don’t shrink when wet.” Patty grinned with a little blush. “Besides we have you to keep people in line.”

I gave each a PPK and Celeste her documents. “Welcome to the Research Intelligence Agency, Special Agent Ryan. Put these in your butt pack and keep it handy. I assume you have your school card and regular identification?”

She nodded swiftly, still delighted to be a real Federal Agent.

“Patty, you packing paper and weapons?”

“Always, Major.”

“You have new documents and IDs. Take these instead.” I put her old ones in the safe to be shredded later with Karen and Irina’s. The three girls were upgraded to sixes.

The rain had subsided into a heavy soaking mist. Combined with the warm weather, the conditions would have made a raincoat miserable.

“Ladies, we’re outta here. Keep your eyes open, especially you, Celeste. You have the most familiarity with the neighborhood and will notice anything unusual first. Too many people on a street corner, a shop too busy or too empty, tourists not gawking, all could be red flags. Listen to your intuition.”

“Healthy paranoia, Mark?” Celeste commented as we strolled, arms linked, north on Amsterdam. Foot traffic was scarce. No one wanted to be outdoors and those that were looked annoyed. We noticed the few who noticed us. Without obvious exception, they were too wrapped in their own brand of discomfort to do more than glance and go.

“When you live our life, paranoia is a survival trait. As for the why, I’m just feel like things are moving too rapid. The clinic, the new clearances, the Ten Penny reinforcements, the distribution across Manhattan, everything seems to be in fast-forward. Something unspecified is brewing in the future.”

Patty digested this for a half-block and stopped. “I don’t mean to pile on, but think of the little big details. Bright Star on the Bowery, the Bat Cave in Tribeca and Zephyr Houses on the Upper West Side, heavily armed, fortified and defensible, all staffed by Special Forces and Ninja-Class Federal Agents. We have armored attack vehicles, a small destroyer and a combat helicopter at our disposal. By any estimate, a lot of firepower assembled in not a lot of time. Why?”

“Bingo. Today we acquired a freestanding fortress on Delancey Street, Maggie brings a co-op and industrial building at Union Square into the mix and we have the retreat at Hill House on Staten Island.”

We were up to 70th Street before Celeste spoke. “It may be the “Ryan’ in me, but the pieces are too convenient. If my birth family ever bothered to deal in real estate, we always bought depressed properties, made improvements and waited for others to make the area more attractive. Then we could hold on or sell at a big fat profit. You own all the places Patty mentioned personally or through a holding company, right? You bought them at fire sale prices, then found a use, or wanted to cover your flank.”

“Of course, Miss Noseypants. The sales tax is based on the price and that is public information if you care to look. I hate mortgages. I don’t mind spending money, but I’ll be damned if I’ll give it away.” I asked, “I do like to pick my neighbors. How do you know these things?”

“It’s only way that makes sense to me. It is what we would do. In your case, the investments were minimal and the speculation paid off immediately. You don’t own Bright Star but you do own a big piece of the action. It’s also clear some of RIA’s Top Secrets are handled there, not completely known to the women, but enough to necessitate a Security Clearance.” She grinned, “My family had some dealings with the OSS during WWII and the early days of the Cold War and Viet Nam. Granny still has her State Department clearance today. Plus, you are smart, I don’t think anyone knows how smart. You are doing it this way for reasons no one else can see.”

“And you are taking shots in the dark without all the facts. RIA’s dealings are not that clear-cut, Celeste. Bright Star has been in existence for ten years or more and is in no way associated with Mark’s name, ownership-wise. It is something you shouldn’t know about, yet.This came from your grandmother. She still talks to certain people who talk too much and your premature talks with her revealed the unique possibilities presented by a private individual assembling assets openly, creating legitimate businesses within which are hidden covert organizations. Hidden in the open.” Patty said sharply, “All of which you would have discovered soon enough on your own. You will learn in time that we have two kinds of secrets, the National Defense kind and the Industrial Trade kind. We are the only ones who can differentiate because one creates the need for the other. You repeat too much.”

“Revealing either can not only harm our friends and associates financially, but can get us killed. Until you can reflexively tell the difference, seal your lips.” I warned her, “Speak of this to anyone but Patty, Amy, the Bakers or me and you will stand trial for treason. This is not a video game. You used information available only to the organization, and as it turns out, to your State Department grandmother. She would not have spoken unless she knew beforehand you would get clearance. You, however, spoke of these things before you checked out Patty. Do not make that mistake again.”

“That said, we might as well carry on.” Patty continued the astonishing extrapolations. “Taking this to a logical end, Bright Star or the Colonel will be convinced to buy the co-op and Maggie’s commercial property near Union Square. The DoD will ‘stop loss’ poor Norm and Mike and have them continue to organize Vet groups and neighborhood watches all over the city like they are doing out on Long Island through Lulu’s father and his friends. They will live at the co-op. Nancy and Tamera will have a residence/satellite operation at Belle’s old Tompkins Square apartment. They will probably buy it. It is not carved in marble, but that’s where the smart money is. That is how spooks like us operate.”

“Don’t forget our involvement with the NYPD. We have an entire precinct covering our backs, two cops working part-time with Ten Penny, our fearless leader strongly advising the brass at One Police Plaza. The Pennys have organized an army of off-duty cops into construction crews, movers and bodyguards. Good men and women who will back our play if the deal goes sour, because we backed theirs.” I said, “On it’s face, not bad. Again. the problem I’m having is that the web grew too fast. Maybe Mrs. Ryan has been ‘stop lossed’ because of her special history or community placement, another hidden in plain sight part of the network. Maybe the powers in the shadows are being paranoid, after all it’s what they do, but this has an urgency I’ve never sensed in the years I’ve worked with them.”

“Our Colonel is pushing everyone from Max to Dr. McLean to get ready for some huge unknown.” Patty surmised, “He likes us and, I think, he would say more if he knew. He sees the shadow growing but can’t spot the giant boulder falling from the sky.”

We were approaching the charred ruins of Tanaka’s restaurant at 72nd Street and Broadway. “Patty knows already, so this is for you. We are here to listen to what Mrs. Ryan has to say. Not to tell her more. Volunteer nothing. She knows what she needs to know already and she talks to people.”

“I think I know some of what she wants to share. But she did not give me permission to tell.” Celeste apologized.

“You did the right thing respecting her wishes. The same courtesy you should show us.” Patty said. “Your primary obligation is to RIA and Zephyr House now. Your life depends on the ability to be quiet without appearing to keep secrets. Let Mark lead the discussions. Period.”

“Let me make a guess or two before we ring the bell. This involves the big hole there, old school tech and your locked basement. Your grandmother is Judith Ochs Astor Ryan, heiress to old money and of a family unifying two other more famous uber wealthy families. Those fortunes were diluted and distributed. Ryan money wasn’t. Your father would have wasted it.”

Celeste was shocked at my accuracy. “You know some stuff, too.”

“I’m in the knowing stuff business and I’m good at it.” I smiled, “There’s more. The restaurant collapsed into a basement that should not have been big enough to eat a five-story building. Dollars to doughnuts that hole was part of the private railroad running under Amsterdam Avenue and out to the tracks near Riverside Drive. For now, I’ll call it the old Astor Station. And it is lost forever.”

Patty grinned big. “Pretend the tunnel is now closed north of here and the locked basement conceals the new terminus of the transport system passing under the Annex. Ryan Station is under your apartment house, but there might be a problem with the access elevator.”

“The news kiosk is Judith Ryan’s spy post on the neighborhood, her neighborhood really, and more importantly, is deliberately positioned over an emergency exit.” I took my own shot in the dark, not so dark all of a sudden. “The newsstand has been there forever and has a steel floor, doesn’t it, Celeste?”

“Yes, dammit! You already know about the private railroad!” She opened the lobby door. “Granny closed her spy post and is waiting inside with hot chocolate and tea.”

We followed her up the stairs to their apartment where we were welcomed by her waiting grandmother.

Judith Ryan was the picture of the gracious blue blood matriarch and the bawdy elder lady rolled into a bundle of chuckles. We were taken to the family parlor and, as wet as we were, offered seats. I flicked a droplet of water from Celeste’s hard exposed nipple. “You shouldn’t drip on your granny’s carpet, dear.” I did the same to a giggling Patty.

Mrs. Ryan cracked up. “Girl, mind your manners. Get our guests some hand towels. You girls are going to freeze those big boobs off when the air conditioner kicks in. I remember the filmy flapper dresses. Daring girls pay a price to be on the cutting edge of the Avant Garde revolution. Those damned moralists spoiled our fun for decades.”

Our hostess served the drinks as Celeste bounced away to get the towels. The girls wrapped their hair but let the fun parts air-dry. Judith let it pass. The bare nipples became diamond hard under my appreciative stare. The cold air had some influence, too. Our hostess smiled as I attended to the drops from both girls using my tongue instead of fingers.

Her reaction was to insist the girls give up every stitch of clothes. “I’ll put these in the dryer while we relax and have our conversation. Mr. Allyn has seen what you have to show before and I’m sure he won’t mind seeing it again.” That old bawd winked. “I’ll bet that he reamed Patty as thoroughly as he worked over my Celeste, so you have nothing to hide from an old broad like me.” She took the clothes to the laundry room left the girls naked in the front parlor. She was as bad as the Bright Stars and she had never worn infused Airwear.

I had figured it out correctly. Judith filled in some details, but basically told a story of the local history. “We, as a family, did not feel the need to be so public about our wealth and remained in the background. That is not to say we didn’t enjoy it. We had our own Pullman car and station, but did not own the railroad. The times changed during the later years of the Depression, Prohibition, and the war. The city grew, enlarged the water system, redirected public transportation so eventually the private rail system was closed off or abandoned and officially forgotten. Few who used it survive today and it will soon pass into legend.”