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Jenny, Sheldon, Brad, and Tuck were trapped inside the Crust Cousins’ cavernous warehouse of out-of-fashion clothing. They stood frozen as a large security force with flashlights emerged from the shadows and began converging upon them.

“Allow me to repeat my suggestion,” said Brad. “Shall we indulge in some panicked running?”

“Yes, please,” said Tuck. He ran screaming off into the darkness, somehow slipping past the guards.

Brad trailed after his little brother. “Tuck! What’re you doing? I meant organized panicked running!”

Sheldon turned as though to follow, but Jenny grabbed his hand tight. She whispered, “Wait.”

“While we’re waiting,” whimpered Sheldon. “Can you stop crushing my hand?”

Jenny loosened her vice-like grip. “Sorry.” A dozen flashlights changed direction, pursuing the Carbuckle brothers’ receding voices into the gloom. Mindful of her grip, Jenny gently pulled Sheldon in the opposite direction. “C’mon.” Using her built-in night vision mode, she led him down a narrow aisle between two shelves stacked to the ceiling with crates. Each crate was labelled with a paired number and letter code. Sheldon and Jenny emerged from the other end, turned left, then right down a short hallway, stopping before the door of a small office. As Jenny bent toward the door handle, the tip of her index finger flipped open, revealing a set of lock-picking tools.

Definitely breaking and entering this time, thought Sheldon, but he said, “Do you really think the pip crystal dresses we’re looking for are in this office?”

“Of course not,” said Jenny as she jimmied the lock. “They’ve got to be in one of the hundreds of crates. Hopefully there’s a computer or old school filing system in here that will help us decipher the codes on the crates so we can find the one were looking for.” She retracted her lock-picking tools, turned the knob, and pushed the door inward. There was no computer. There were wooden file drawers before them, but they were improbably small. Jenny was perplexed. “Did the Crusts hire some Minutians for their office staff? Who uses files this tiny?”

“Librarians,” said Sheldon. “Twentieth century librarians, to be specific.” He placed his hand on the smooth oak. “This is a card catalog.” He grew wide-eyed, his tone reverential. “Used in conjunction with the Dewey Decimal System.”

Elsewhere in the warehouse, Brad’s eyes were also quite wide as he stumbled blindly around in the dark, trying to track down Tuck while avoiding the guards. Tuck’s wailing had stopped abruptly. Did that mean he was caught, or had he found a hiding spot? 

Heavy footsteps approached from Brad’s left. He ran to the right, smack into a huge crate blocking that end of the aisle. Splinters in his cheek, he stumbled backward and was restrained by hefty arms. “Let go, let go! I’m warning you — I’m a master of the martial arts.” Brad tried to disable his unseen captor with a flying kick, but only managed to smash his own face again. On the plus side, he did dislodge some of the splinters.

“Take it easy, sensei,” whispered Jenny. “You’re among friends.” 

She released an embarrassed Brad, who said, “Have you been working out? Your arms seem larger.”

Jenny tapped on her own bicep with a faint metallic ping. “Metal, not muscle, remember?” She turned to Sheldon and asked, “Have you found it?”

Sheldon used a small penlight to examine the codes stamped onto the crates, moving along quickly. “We’re close. It might be the next aisle over…”

Brad said, “You deciphered the code already?”

Pausing his examination of the crates, Sheldon said, “Elementary, my dear Bradley. The Crusts are using their own customized version of the Dewey Decimal System, where authors have been replaced by fashion designers and types of books swapped out for types of garments. The trick was finding out which Dewey number class they’d put dresses in and whether—"

“Less nerding, more looking, please,” said Jenny impatiently.

Sheldon turned back to the crates. “On it.” He moved his penlight across the codes. “This would go a lot faster if we could have the lights on.”

A gruff voice said, “Your wish is our command.” One by one, the fluorescent ceiling lights flickered to life, revealing thirteen security guards spread out in a semi-circle, blocking the open end of the aisle.

Jenny, Brad, and Sheldon were cornered.