Chapter 2: Maybe it's a bomb?
The team came into the warehouse just to finish up some paperwork and wrap up some projects before their week off. Cabe had called them before he jetted off to see his daughter for the holidays. He told them that they deserved some time off after all their hard work and to "stay out of trouble," he warned them before he hung up.
"Well, that takes all the fun out of the holidays," Toby said, pressing the end call button on their answering machine. That was when he noticed the box sitting next to the phone on his desk. "What the…?" He reached out to touch it before a voice shouted. "Toby, don't!"
The psychiatrist whirled around to find Happy standing at the door, her hand outstretched towards him.
"You crazy shrink!" Happy began, her words coming out rough and fast. "That could be a bomb! That could be anthrax! That could be anything! You could have gotten yourself blown up!"
Toby faced the tiny woman in front of him, a smirk dancing on his face. "I appreciate the great concern you're expressing for me, Happy. It's very uncharacteristic of you."
Happy rolled her eyes. "Don't get used to it, Doc. I just didn't want to have the rest of us blown up along with you."
"Whatever you say, Haps," Toby said, shaking his head and smiling. In spite of her words, Toby had read the genuine concern in her eyes and the worry that had laced her voice when she saw him reaching for the mysterious box.
"Have Sylvester scan it first," she said, coming up to him. "He's already scanning mine."
"You got one, too?"
"Yeah, so did Walter and Paige, although the packages are of all different sizes, it's strange."
"Not that strange," said Walter, coming around the corner. "If someone were to bomb us or threaten us, there's a small chance they would use similar packages."
"Yes," Toby agreed. "Having different sized packages tricks the human brain into thinking that each one contains something different when they could all be the same thing or varying amounts of the same thing."
"Correct," said Sylvester, materializing in the room with the scanner. "For example," he said, pointing towards his desk. "The one on my desk is similar in size to Toby's, but mine weighs a lot more. The box on your desk, Happy, is light, but is much larger than both of ours combined."
After half an hour of scanning, probing, and discussion, the team decided that the boxes were relatively safe.
"Should we open them?" Sylvester asked, anxiously glancing at the others. Before anyone could respond, the front door slammed, making everyone jump.
"Hey, guys!" called Paige's voice from the front. "Guys? Where are you?"
"They're in here, Mom," came Ralph's voice. Moments later, Ralph and Paige appeared around the doorway.
"Wow, you found them quick," Paige said, her cheeks flushed from the cold air outside.
Ralph shrugged. "They all left wet shoeprints from the front door leading into this room. Must be the freezing rain we've been having recently."
Everyone beamed at Ralph. Paige ruffled his hair. "Well, aren't you the little genius?" Then she caught the look on everyone's face. "What?" she asked, slightly alarmed at everyone's grave expression. Walter stepped forward and beckoned to Paige. They moved into a corner and he explained that they all received mysterious boxes on their desks and did not know who it came from. Paige glanced to the team, then back to Walter. "Maybe it's Santa?" she asked innocently.
"Santa Claus is a fictional character based on a third-century saint from Turkey. The concept of a jolly old man who passes out gifts is used as a means for persuading children to behave on the premise that they receive rewards for their behavior in the form of Christmas gifts near the end of every year," Walter said in a low voice for Ralph's sake. "None of us believe in Santa Claus," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, maybe you don't have to believe in Santa Claus for him to exist," Paige said simply. "Besides," she said, turning to the team. "All of you are geniuses. I'm sure you'll figure it out," she concluded, grinning at each of them. They all raised an eyebrow. Well, Toby raised an eyebrow, Sylvester began to rock back and forth anxiously, and Happy set her face into a grim line. Walter, being Walter, did not change his expression.
"Well, let's see what it's all about then," he said finally, clearing away a table and setting his box on it. Everyone gathered around as he undid the brown wrapping paper and pulled out a…long, cylindrical tube?
"Oh-kay," said Paige, puzzled.
"A box within a box," Walter commented, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "A reference to the Matryoshka dolls?" he mused.
"Matri-what?" asked Paige.
"The Matryoshka dolls are Russian nesting dolls, or babushka dolls, as some people call them. It's traditionally a set of colorfully painted dolls nestled one inside of another, decreasing in size as you continue opening them up."
"Oh, I think I've seen those before," said Paige.
And so it was. As Walter continued to open the box, each held a container of a different shape, cleverly fitted inside of the container before it. At long last, he came to the last one and it was the contents of this one that made everyone gasp.