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"Anytime," Dax said, with a comforting smile. "I'm glad you owled. I've got reason to believe this research may not be the safest avenue of study."

"Pleasure's all mine," she replied in kind, shaking Henry's hand firmly. Right down to business - she liked that in a research partner. "As far as I can tell, they're a relatively recent monarchy. Then again, the nation of Candyland only came into public view in the mid nineteen forties. It's entirely possibly that they've ruled for centuries, and only recently chose to make themselves known to the world."

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"Not the safest avenue of study, yeah. According to this, they may have some kind of organ-stealing cartel going on. Specialising in kidneys. Ugh. Guess that's not the best thing for PR, either. No wonder they want to keep a low profile." Chance knows what she's getting into. Liopleurodon magicus is a find worth the risks.

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Henry's eyebrows went up. "Organ-stealing cartel?" he echoed. This just got weirder and weirder. "Surely, if they were an ancient dynasty, that couldn't have been their initial purpose." Even with magic, he had a hard time seeing people stealing and transplanting organs in ancient Greece--always assuming, of course, that Candyland and Sparta were in fact connected. "Has anything concrete been heard from them in the recent past, or are we in the dark?"

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"I've been working out a theory," Dax said, booting her data pad. "In regards to the alleged trading in human organs." She sat the pad down on the table, for all parties to see. "What I have here is a graph outlying the net profit of the Hershey company. $4.944 Billion dollars in 2006 alone. Hershey, and other major companies of its kind, are able to gain such a profit by virtue of outsourcing. The Hershey Corporation's main plant is located in the aptly named Hershey, Pennsylvania. However, the company owns hundreds of smaller farms and production centers in third world countries. Like any standard globalized business model, they are able to keep their production costs low, charging one dollar for a candy bar that cost less than five cents to make."

"The Hershey Corporation is by no means the only snack food producer to adopt a globalized business model. Nestle, Branch's...essentially all publicly traded companies have long since joined them. And they're pushing confectionery companies that can't afford to extradite production costs out of business. Candyland has no metropolitan area to speak of. No shops of any kind. Its only cash crops are the sugary confections grown by its farmers. And no one's interested in buying them. The nation is broke. Food is literally falling from Candyland’s trees, but no one can afford to eat it."

Somber for a moment, Dax went on. "The Royal family relies on taxes from local farmers to meet the costs of their lavish lifestyle. Since losing the bulk of that undeserved income, I purport that the Kandys have turned to the black market, in order to make up the cost. I recently met with a young man, whose entanglements with the nation of Candyland far exceed my own." Dax switched the display over to a picture of the ever-elusive Neb-1 (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1431939.html?thread=72755587#t72755587).

"This man calls himself Neb-1. It is likely a doctored identity. It is my belief that Neb was once highly involved with the Candyland government. Diminished motor capacities aside, Neb is an intelligent individual, and a master strategist. Furthermore, he seems keenly aware of how the Hershey business model -specifically 'The Milk Chocolate (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1409045.html?thread=71695125#t71695125)', Hershey's primary seller- has affected the farmers of Candyland."

"It appears that some sort of altercation occurred between Neb-1 and his employers. If we want answers, I believe that he is the one to give them." Dax sighed, leaning forward in her chair anxiously. "But there’s no guarantee that he’s in any sort of metal state to provide reliable information. Whatever the Kandys did to him affected his synaptic relays. He can barely warble out a full sentence, much less reveal the entire underbelly of a corrupt empire."

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Okay.

Chance has dated an astronaut. Or ... space doctor. Whatever. And Dax herself is from outer space. So Chance can rationally accept the idea of a pudgy green alien being in cahoots with organ traffickers. Right?

She blurts out: "Shit. I hope the chocolate isn't made of liopleurodons. Or kidneys. I've eaten Hershey bars."

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Henry had never eaten Hershey's chocolate in his life, but nevertheless he found the idea disturbing.

"The Kandys must have a global underground network, then," he said. "Perhaps with its roots in ancient Sparta, or an ancient cult at the very least. The stealing of kidneys derivative of human sacrifice? Or maybe the chocolate itself is seen as some kind of communion by the Kandy cult's followers?"

He was writing as he spoke, and out of habit he was writing in Greek. "Though how the liopleurodon would fit in, I don't know...perhaps it's the deity the Kandy cult sacrifices to?"

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"I wouldn't worry about that, Chance. As their main source of income, I can't imagine they'd waste human organs on a rival mass-produced chocolate bar. However, I can't vouch for the liopleurodons. Who knows what makes Milk Chocolate appitizing to so many." Dax personally didn't care for it. Far too much processed sugar. Kidneys might actually help the taste. Give it some kick!

"Mm. It's the only way they could operate so quietly." She pulled up a picture of the king (http://www.hasbro.com/candyland/images/char_KingKandy.png) in question. "His robes are certainly ornate enough for the leader of a religious sect."

Mulling all this over, Dax had A Thought. "...Neb didn't seemed all that concerned with everyday milk chocolate. He took the time to specify 'The Milk Chocolate'. What do you two make of that?"

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Chance rubs at her temples. "Jesus. This goes way deeper than I suspected." She imagines liopleurodon remains as something akin to a fossil fuel, only instead of making gasoline, the Hershey people are making food.

She's got to shake this. If she keeps on thinking this way she's going to wind up wearing a tinfoil hat. Focus, Chance, focus.

"The milk chocolate. That's a telling stress on the definite article. Maybe that's got some kind of cultic significance too." She's thinking along the lines of what Adrienne Mayor writes about in The First Fossil Hunters, of course. Folklore and rituals, that kind of thing. Definitely nothing like Templar conspiracies.

"What the author of Cavities and Sea Oddities says is this: 'The magical liopleurodon has spoken. He has shown us The Way.' At this point I can't rule out anything."

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"It sounds like it might be directly related to the liopleurodon," Henry said. "Whether the chocolate is a product of the liopleurodon, or is some kind of offering, I couldn't say." He pictured some dark ancient coven drowning a sacrificial virgin in a pit of chocolate goo. Now there was an image that would have given even Julian pause.

"We may be dealing with something whose roots go even deeper than we know," he said seriously. "A millennia-old conspiracy."

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"It seems to me that we need to get a sample of liopleurodon," said Dax. "We can theorize all we want, but without a chemical analysis, we can't cross reference Milk Chocolate recipes."

"They're a lot more common than you might think," she said, with a small shrug. Dax herself had been party to at least two millennia-old conspiracies! "Luckily, the older secrets get, that more careless people become about keeping them."

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Chance looks blank. "If I could get a sample of liopleurodon in whatever form, screw the Kandys and the Hersheys and whatever, I'd be set."

Provided they let her live to tell the tale.

Not like she hasn't seen danger before, and not like Liopleurodon magicus isn't a quarry worth the risk. It's all settled in her mind, right here and now. "So I've got to go to Hershey. If I can get the funding, I'd love to have some colleagues along."

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((repost because of inadvertant snicker-inducing-ness))

"Where on earth could we be expected to find a liopleurodon, though?" Henry asked. He knew--and cared--very little about all things archaeological (or paleontological, or whatever you wanted to call it), and so had no real idea just how easy or difficult such an endeavor might be.

He traced elaborate Greek letters in the margins of his notebook--things to use as reminders for later research. "Perhaps we should all go to Hershey," he said. "If these people really are dangerous, then the more of us go, the better."

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"I'm not sure. If it does have any ties to 'The Milk Chocolate', Neb might be our best avenue of query." More than likely a futile attempt, but it was their only tangible lead.

Dax nodded. "I agree. There's safety in numbers." ~~Plus, she'd heard that Hershey Park had some sweet roller coasters, and wanted in on that.~~

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"If you guys are sure," Chance says, at once grateful for the collaboration -- not to mention moral support and, as Dax says, safety in numbers -- and reluctant to let anyone else risk their kidneys on the trail of the elusive liopleurodon. "I think I can probably get funding from the school. Or the Ministry of Magic. I've been looking into wizarding grants for magical creatures research. Once I hear back, I'll owl you both."

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Henry was seriously considering it. He hadn't been any further away from the school than London since he'd been resurrected. "We should make an intinerary," he said. "Once we know whether or not we've been approved for funding." If push came to shove, he could see if Camilla would agree to him drawing off some of their investments.

Hey. Dealing with the Kandy cult was serious business.

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