Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
Page 56
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R&D, or Research and Design, or, as Wellington sometimes liked to think, the Madhouse filled with Exploding Bats, had black smoke pouring out of it. Researchers were scuttling out the door into the hallway, coughing.
“It’s all right!” came a muffled voice from inside the smoke-filled room. “It was just a little explosion.”
Wellington steeled himself before turning the corner into the room, covering his mouth with his handkerchief. Inside he saw the familiar figure of fellow Ministry agent and scientist, Doctor Josepha Raven Blackwell. She was holding a small silver raygun with a shattered chamber. She was also wearing a mask over her mouth with a giant black tube, and blue goggles that were lit from the inside. Emerging from the acrid plume of destruction, with her dark brown hair, pale skin, and a curvature she covered like an old matron, she appeared as one of Death’s own harbinger. With the bird skull entwined in her hair as part of an elaborate decoration, her apocalyptic demeanour was only reinforced.
“What happened here?” he asked, pulling a lever on the wall that activated the internal fans.
Agent Blackwell darted towards him, and pulled off her goggles. A ring of soot marked her face, highlighting her pale skin and ice-blue eyes. “Oh, Agent Books! This is most exciting. I’ve made a new weapon for our trip.” She held out a silver gun. It was a small thing, a barrel like a pen attached to a tiny, blue snowglobe and a silver handle. “I call it The Nipper!”
“Does all this smoke have something to do with the new weapon?” Wellington asked. The fans whirred, and the smoke began to clear from the room.
Josepha pulled off her mask, revealing her wide, smiling face. “Yes!” she said, delighted. “I was testing a bit of material to see what happened when I over-heated the light cache coils, and it turns out that they will explode.”
“Clearly,” he replied.
“Oh, not like this,” said Agent Blackwell. “This was just a small sample, the actual explosion would be much larger.”
Wellington rubbed his forehead. “Why would you want a gun to explode?” he asked. “Isn’t that the opposite of what you’d want in the field?”
The scientist tilted her head. “I don’t understand the question.”
Wellington sighed, feeling the gentle foreshadowing of a splitting headache. This was going to be a long trip.