The rushed tale of Timothy's trevails slowly sank in as the group listened. Finally, as Tim looked around, he saw -with some relief- that the facts of his predicament were being accepted by all of them.
"Guys," said Scott in a somewhat subdued voice, "why don't you leave Tim with Saul an' me for a minute...."
"You can't be serious; we can't leave..." one began.
Saul turned around and interrupted. "Scott's right. Look, this is getting a bit clausterphobic in here and I think we should clear the room until Tim and we can figure out what to do next."
Scott nodded. "You guys get started and get the rest of the team out there to work. Just don't mention any of this yet, Ok?"
The three other men looked at their shift leaders dubiously and then at Timothy. His large, vulpine eyes looked somewhat relieved that the crowd would be reduced and he could have a bit more privacy in which he could explain his situation more readily.
"Ok, but ... well..." The worker stared at Timothy and shook his head. "If you need anything, just call..."
"I will..." replied the fox in a soft, under-tone.
Slowly, the men filed out, soon leaving only Saul and Scott with the transformed Timothy. An uneasy silence descended on the group as the newcomers looked down at the short, humanoid fox.
"Well," said Saul, slowly with a nervous laugh, "I always said you were a foxy boy..."
The trio began to snicker at the bad pun at first, soon descending into laughter. Both Saul and Scott embraced their friend and -soon- sat down next to the box to look it over. Outside, they could hear the sounds of the salvage crew going to work on the acquisition.
"Well, what now?"
"I don't know, Scott," replied Timothy. "I thought about opening the box again; maybe pressing the same button, but I don't know if that would work."
Saul picked up the small chest and turned it over and over in his hands, examining it. "It sure doesn't seem to have much in the way of fine-tuning, does it?" he mused, aloud.
Timothy shook his head, still a bit embarassed by the looks the other two gave him now and then. "No; just buttons and keys."
"What do the others do?"
Both Saul and Scott turned to Timothy.
"Well," he replied to Saul's question, "I don't really know... When I first opened it, I didn't know they did anything! Now, I'm kinda afraid to monkey around with it."
"Well," replied Saul, carefully, "you've got us here, now, to help you."
Scott nodded. "Tell you what, why don't we operate the chest, having it face you, and we can try and control what happens that way. If nothing else, we'll always be at the ready if anything goes wrong for you."
"If anything goes wrong?" echoed Timothy. "Guys, we don't know if anything this chest does is reversable; what would you actually *do* if something 'went wrong'?"
That brought both Saul and Scott up short. They looked at each other and at the chest in Saul's hands. Silence decended on them for several minutes before Saul spoke up.
"I'll do it," he said, quietly.
"What?"
"I'll do it. I'll test the box. I'll hit the same button Tim did and then hit it again to see if it'll turn me back."
"Saul, that's nuts!" replied, Timothy.
"Tim's right, Saul; you could get stuck like ... like..." He trailed off, looking at Timothy, realizing how his words sounded. "Sorry, Tim..." he added on.
Saul shook his head. "Hey, it's not your decision, guys... Besides, what else are we going to do? Take Timothy to a doctor? Or how about a vet?" He shot a glance at his vulpine friend and blushed. "No offense."
Timothy sighed. "They'd think I was a freak."
"Besides," added Saul, "I don't think there's much treatment in medical science for this sort of thing..."
After a few moments, Scott finally nodded and Timothy stood to walk a few paces away. "Ok, but Saul, I don't want you to do this if you really, really don't want to..."
Saul chuckled. "Hon, I don't think *anyone* would want to do this..." He motioned for Scott to move back from him and put the key fully in the lock. "But what choice do we have?"