For Your Eyes Only

Charles Smitherson

Life has always been too easy for you. As much money as you could possibly spend and no-one to restrict you. School was the best time of your life it’s always seemed; at least you had guidance then, a direction and people who expected things of you. Very bright academically, you sailed through your exams and out of university into the real world. Where you did precisely nothing. All your promise forgotten as you flitted from one interest to another, always discovering a new passion and then moving on.

America was very interesting. Such a different culture, so decadent and yet so poor. You got quite enthusiastic about your cousin’s factories for some time; you happened to be on hand when some of the machines seized up and managed to solve the problem almost instinctively. You spent the next few months in machine repair and maintenance, even moving into motor vehicle repair when your cousin’s car broke down… And then you received a letter from an old school chum in Rome and you were off, the factories forgotten in a second as new horizons beckoned.

Rome was fascinating. The whole ‘God’ malarkey is very interesting, and whilst visiting your old chum ‘Munty’ Braithwaite, you accompanied him during a lot of his research, even taking over at some point and leading the search into ancient theological documents. But again you lost interest and spent about six months there before dashing off again.

The last two years have been your most focused, and have really been quite taken with this Botany thing. It all started on a trip to Africa where you were being taken on safari by a friend of your father’s. It was all jolly interesting until most of the expedition came down with some illness. It got a bit hairy until a local witchdoctor turned up and proceeded to cure everyone with the help of a local plant. Intrigued by the use of such common materials, you followed the fellow around for a few weeks soaking up all you could.

After the trip was over, on your return to England you sought out some professors at your old university and bothered them for some botany texts and picked their brains. You then struck on a terrifically fun idea. Why not write a book of your own? You thought it’d be a great lark to travel in search of rare plants with useful or interesting properties from many different countries. And to date, it’s all been going rather nicely. You’re over halfway through your book and you’ve been to 8 different countries.

On your last visit back home in between trips you found a letter waiting for you, strangely with no return address:

Dear Mr. Smitherson,

It has come to my attention that you are in the process of researching and studying plants with interesting properties and I wish to bring to your attention one such plant that you may not have heard off.

A colleague of mine has recently informed of the ‘Comosus inambulatio unctura’ that is native to Europe but most prevalent in France, in particular the Ardennes region.

I believe the plant is difficult to find but seems to grow most abundantly near gravesites or where many human bodies have been interred which may explain the Ardennes region displaying such (comparatively) abundant growth due to the vast amount of fighting that occurred in this area during The Great War.

The properties of this plant greatly interest me and if you were to fund an expedition there I would be greatly interested in acquiring some examples and cuttings of this plant upon your return.

I hope you find this information of interest and look forward to further communication with you.

Yours truly,

Daniel Rutherstone

With no other planned trip on the horizon, and the relative closeness of the Ardennes forest you quickly backed a bag, chartered a plane and were on your way the very next day.

The trip was very easy; you picked up a car from the airport along with some supplies and drove to the nearest town to Ardennes, picking up a local guide by the name of Andre Malin-Louche.

Andre directed you onto back roads and tracks not even on your map and soon the going was too much for your hired vehicle and you had to leave it behind. Unperturbed you and Andre and your faithful valet - Shannon hiked further into the woods.

Some days later and no sign of your elusive prey you questioned Andre more and more, asking him if he knew of any better sites, but he insisted that he was taking you the right way. Shannon later shared with you that he was concerned as to the reliability of this fellow, he’d seen him drinking often, and awoke last night to see him returning to the camp with a definite hint of the furtive about him.

Today you have been keeping an eye on him, and are starting to share Shannon’s concern, but have been distracted by the terrain becoming much more promising for the plant you seek. Whilst you all stopped for the midday meal, you wandered off - call of nature you know, and went quite some way, intrigued by some of the local fauna - interesting but not what you’re after. When you returned to where you left the others, you found no sign of them. There WERE however, marks on the path of scuffed shoe prints but you’re no tracker and had no idea what they meant. You called out to them both, but with no reply.

You’ve been wandering for some hours now with no sign, it really is most inconvenient - Shannon and Andre carried most of your supplies, as well as your sketch pad. Oh well, you’re sure they’ll turn up soon.