"I'm in," Tuck said with a smile. "Now how do we open the door?" Tuck took a close look at the door's locking mechanism. "Let's see...it looks like we need Morty's fingerprints."

"Which we have."

"And we need his password."

"Which we don't."

So much for that idea.

"Really?" I pressed. "It's password-protected?" I took a look at the screen prompting for a password. Below it was a small keyboard, containing letters, numbers, and symbols. If the system required a reasonably strong password - at least eight characters, one uppercase letter, one lowercase letter, one number, and one symbol - there was no way we were going to guess it in time.

But maybe the system didn't have those restrictions. We had to try.

"OK, maybe we can guess it," I said. "First, let's drag him over here to get his fingerprints."

"I'm starting to get tired of carrying this guy," Tuck said.

"It's probably for the last time," I replied. "Anyway, whatever happens, it will all be over by midnight. Now let's get him."

As we walked over to Morty's body, Tuck said, "If it's OK with you, I'll grab his legs this time."

"OK," I said, "I'll grab his arms."

We carried his body over to the door, and while it was 21 pounds lighter than it was before, it still wasn't like carrying a feather.

I also noticed that his expression seemed to have changed. No longer did he have the evil, deranged look of the man who told me he was going to be killing almost every person on Earth in order to usher in the new world. Now he looked sad and tormented, like he didn't really want to have done the things he did.

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