THE BLUE LASER SCANNED JAMES, approved of him, and switched off the security feature that would have fried him crisp if he had been an unwelcome intruder.
Carrying the crystal ball, he went to the second steel door. He put the sphere on the floor while he pulled the five lock bolts from their slots.
“Try prosciutto,” said the crystal sphere.
“That’s ham.”
“It works with.”
“With what?”
“I know the path to happiness,” said the sphere.
Voice tight with frustration, James said, “Then tell me.”
“Paper-thin.”
“What does that mean?”
“Serve it paper-thin.”
The thick door swung open. James had been forbidden to enter the windowless Victorian drawing room. On his way out, he must leave the steel doors open, the exit route unobstructed.
He remained obedient, even in his current state of distraction.
Anyway, he had no interest in that room. Not when happiness might be within his grasp.
The crystal sphere said nothing on the way back to the library.
From the library desk, James phoned Mr. Helios and reported that the task had been completed precisely according to instructions.
The moment James hung up the phone, the sphere said, “You were not made for happiness.”
“But if you know the path …”
“I know the path to happiness.”
“But you won’t tell me?”
“Also works with cheese,” said the sphere.
“So I’m not worthy of happiness. Is that it?”
“You’re just a meat machine.”
“I’m a person,” James insisted.
“Meat machine. Meat machine.”
Furious, James threw the crystal ball to the floor, where it shattered, spilling a mass of slimy yellow seeds and revealing its orange inner flesh.
He stared at it for a while, uncomprehending.
When he looked up, he saw that someone had left a book on the desk: A History of the Troll in Literature. He picked it up with the intention of returning it to its proper place on the shelves.
The book said, “I know the path to happiness.”
With renewed hope and excitement, James said, “Please tell me.”
“Do you deserve happiness?”
“I believe I do. Why shouldn’t I deserve it?”
“There may be reasons.”
“Everyone deserves happiness.”
“Not everyone,” said the book, “but let’s talk about it.”