“Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Baker.”

“Oh, please call me Barbara, Mr. Hant, and I have to apologize again for delaying this for so long, but with me trying to make partner and one of our senior partners running for senate my schedule is really full. Am I blithering? I feel like I’m blithering. I’ll stop blithering.“

Mr. Hant smiled as if he did not quite know how to achieve the feat. “Think nothing of it. I have all the time in the world. It does please me that we can finally put this business to rest so that Jack can finally be at peace.

“Yeah, about that, I still don’t understand why my grandfather insisted on dealing with this matter separately from the rest of his estate. If I understand correctly I’m just here to collect a family heirloom.”

“Three heirlooms to be precise.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“That will become clear momentarily.” Mr. Hant gestured toward a table on which sat an antique piece of luggage that was wider and deeper than a suitcase.

Barbara walked across the office to the table which only required a couple of steps. The office was small to begin with and the tall bookcases on every wall only made it smaller. There was dust in all the corners and the office smelled like an old library or a museum.

“Why did Grandpa Jack will this to me? I mean, we’ve always gotten along well, but I have many cousins who can say the same. Why wasn’t it offered to them?”

“It was offered to two of them.”

“They didn’t want it?”

“Quite the reverse. Please, open the case.”

Barbara Baker opened the case’s two latches, one of which was stubborn, but responded to some mild violence. The musty smell that escaped the case made Barbara cough, but the sight of the contents intrigued her. Most of the case’s interior was filled by a round shield that measured maybe two feet diameter. At the bottom of the case lay a medieval looking weapon consisting of a shaft with a knobby, iron ball at one end. She almost missed the boots strapped to the underside of the lid. The shield and the weapon looked familiar.

“These are the Crimson Gladiator’s weapons.”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“Replicas, of course.”

Mr. Hant shook his head.

“I don’t understand. Grandpa Jack never struck me as a collector or a superhero fan boy. Why would he own these things?”

“The correct answer,” Mr. Hant said, “is in my opinion the most obvious, but your incredulity is blinding you to it.”

Most obvious. Credulity. Barbara processed the comment and reached a conclusion.

“Grandpa Jack was the Crimson Gladiator?”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“My Grandpa Jack?”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“Seriously?”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“The same Grandpa Jack who thought ‘pull my finger’ was the funniest damned thing in the world was a founding member of Justice Patrol?”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“No way. Why is he giving these to me? What does he expect me to do with them?”

“The correct answer,” Mr. Hant said, “is in my opinion the most obvious, but your incredulity is blinding you to it.”

“No. No. You're not serious. I can't... I'm trying to make partner and... This is a joke. Right? One last prank by Grandpa Jack? I bet these things aren't even real.”

She lifted the weapon from the case. It was heavy, but only for a second. Then everything became lighter than air. She may have even floated from the ground. It was hard to tell. She had not been so lightheaded since her first college party.

When she came to she was holding the mace and the shield. They looked much different, more pleasing to her eye as if they had been redesigned just for her, but that was the least remarkable thing.

“How do you feel, Miss Baker?”

She felt a connection with Grandpa Jack, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather, and family members going back to antiquity. Her family had been using these weapons to defend the defenseless for all of recorded history, maybe longer.

“What the... hell?” She had to sit down, but not because she felt weak. The power coursing through her was overwhelming. “It's all true. Isn't it? Everything...?”

Mr. Hant nodded.

“I'm the Crimson Gladiator now? Seriously? Just because I touched them?”

“No, any number of your relations could have touched them. They were waiting for you. They see great things in you and I know them to be excellent judges of character.” As he spoke, Mister Hant returned the items to their case, closed the lid, and handed the case to Barbara.

“You have an amazing future ahead of you, Miss Baker,” he said as he led her to his office door and out into the hallway. “Tales will be told and songs will be sung. Good luck to you, and congratulations.”

The office door closed behind her, and she stood staring down the hallway as she took it all in. So many questions. So damned many questions. She would have answers.

“Now wait a minute,” she said as she barged into Mister Hant's office, but the office was empty and had been for years.