by Georgia Byng
“What was that?” said Molly immediately, really upset. “That woman had her baby stolen!”
Wildgust nodded and stared stonily out at the water. Micky frowned. The two flamingo children came and sat down beside Molly.
“When a child down here takes the fancy of the palace,” the flamingo boy explained, “it is taken. Fang always takes the beautiful ones.”
“But why? And what for?” Molly pictured Miss Cribbins with lots of young children in a classroom. She imagined them sitting in a row beside lots of learning machines, with their little hands stuck to silver blocks under whipping rulers.
“The palace people,” the flamingo girl said, “bring up the babies as their own.”
Molly remembered the nursery where she had visited Nurse Meekles. There had been three babies there and other smaller children. Had they all been stolen? And did Nurse Meekles have something to do with this?
She turned to Micky, and for a moment couldn’t care less what the zooeys knew about him. “How could you let this happen? Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I—I didn’t know that they did this,” Micky stammered. “I was told that the Lakeside children and babies at the palace were orphans.”
“Nurse Meekles seems so nice. How could she do it?”
“Maybe she was told they were orphans too, or maybe she thought that someone had to look after them so she might as well. She likes children.”
But Molly was too furious to be reasonable. She was sick of trying to be patient and understanding. Something cracked in her, and all her fury and anger came tumbling out. “Are you blind, Micky? Can’t you see? That baby is just like you were! That’s just what they did to you, Micky. They stole you. And your mother, our mother, was too deeply hypnotized to do anything about it. THEY STOLE YOU JUST LIKE THAT! Do you believe it now, Micky? Do you see what kind of people they really are up there? Don’t you see how wicked what they did to you was? They took away your real life and made it so that you grew up to serve them.”
Then Molly was quiet.
“I’m not your brother,” Micky said doggedly.
“What’s this then?” Molly said. Without looking at him, she tossed her half of the hospital identity bracelet into his lap. He picked it up and fingered it. Eventually he pulled his own tag of plastic from his pocket.
“Redhorn dropped it,” Molly said. “He tore it off your wrist when he took you. Half the bracelet stayed on your wrist—that’s the bit Nurse Meekles must have found. The other half fell on the ground outside the hospital. I found it when I started looking for you.”
Micky put the two strips together and slowly read them aloud, “‘St. Michael’s, MALE LOGAN TWIN.’”
Molly nodded. “Mine probably said ‘St. Michael’s FEMALE LOGAN TWIN.’” For a moment she was silent and her temper simmered down. “You know, Redhorn nearly took me,” Molly finally said. “I might have been the one that grew up here. Instead, something different happened to me. I never grew up with our parents either. I was taken too, but by someone else. I grew up in a nasty, cold orphanage.”
Micky sat very still. Then he looked Molly in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Thank you for coming to get me, Molly.”
Molly sighed. At last, she thought, I’ve won a game from Fang.
On the way back to the zoo they passed the old-fashioned town clock, where one of the princess’s screens sparked into life.
MIDMORNING MEALTIME, it proclaimed in purple lettering, and a recorded Miss Cribbins wagged her red-varnished fingernail at anyone watching.
“Eat nutritiously, not greedily,” she said. “Keep Lakeside tidy.” Then she disappeared and pictures of fruit floated across the screen—an orange banana, a pineapple with a skin like a strawberry, and some rainbow-colored berries.
“The hypnotized population is very healthy,” the flamingo girl pointed out. “The hypnos are told exactly what and how much to eat. Not too much salt, not too much fat, lots of vegetables—that sort of thing. Everyone drinks lots of water. Princess Fang’s workforce is hardly ever off sick.”
Molly looked at the screen. It reminded her of the billboards and commercials from her own time. “Buy this, do this, be this,” those commercials used to say to promote their shampoos or holidays, their fast cars or sweets.
Qube if you’re cute … Qube if you’re rude …
Everyone loves you, cos you’re so Qube.
The jingle from the fizzy-drink commercial sang in Molly’s head and she thought of Rocky. They’d always laughed so much when they imitated the commercials. She could imagine him impersonating Cribbins now. “Eat nutritiously, not greedily. Actually, hypnos, you will stop eating! Yes, you will stop eating! “His voice practically echoed in Molly’s head. And she saw how much she missed him. She clenched her fists inside the furry paws of her cat costume and shut her eyes to make a promise. Silently she vowed to Rocky that she would do everything in her power to get them all out of this mess. And Molly, Micky, and the flamingo children, like ducklings in a line, followed Wildgust through the sweltering crowds.
Back at the zoo, Petula was sitting with Lola, the dog-woman, in a hut by the water’s edge.
The woman had floppy black ears and a wet black nose. Her skin was furry, and a tail stuck out of a hole in the back of her tunic.
“A good pampering is what you need,” she said, eyeing Petula’s dried-out muddy coat and her dirty claws. Gently she picked her up and carried her to a table overlooking the lake. Petula lay down and, sucking the stone she had picked up that morning, stared out at the water. She wondered where Molly was. Then the woman sponged her fur down and Petula shut her eyes as she was brushed and massaged. Petula sighed and let her mind wander. Soon she was running through the sweet-smelling fields of Briersville Park.
Twenty-one
Wildgust led Molly and Micky along a path lined with rosebushes. Now back at the institute, they’d said good-bye to the flamingo children and were heading toward the water’s edge where a small hut stood. Its flower-framed door opened and Tortillus emerged. He hobbled quickly toward them.
“Good to see you,” he said warmly. “The guards have gone. Molly, will you please come with me? Wildgust, perhaps you could take Micky with you to the pingin enclosure. They’re going to love those fresh fish,” he added.
Micky hardly heard this, for Silver had landed on his arm and he was tentatively stroking the bird’s head. “You’re looking much better,” Tortillus commented. “Much stronger—and you’ve made a friend.”
“Where’s Petula?” Molly asked.
“She’s quite happy,” Tortillus replied, smiling. “She’s in my room. Come.”
And so for the first time since their arrival at the zoo, Molly and Micky parted.
Molly followed Tortillus through the wide, rush-weave door into a low room and at once Petula was upon her, jumping up at her knees.
“Oh, don’t you look smart?” Molly said, giving her a massive hug. “You love having your claws polished, don’t you?” Seeing her jumpsuit hanging on the back of the chair, all clean and bright white again, she took off the furry cat costume and changed.
In the corner was a bed laid with straw and dried leaves, and on the table was a large plate of lettuce. The walls were hung with paintings of snowy Alpine mountain scenes that at first seemed normal to Molly, but then, she realized, weren’t. For they depicted life in her time.
“Those pictures must be five hundred years old!” she said.
“I like imagining what this mountain would have been like covered in snow, in the time when the world still had rain forests, and Africa still had rain,” the old man said. “I’d love to have seen Mont Blanc white with snow,” he marveled. “What a pity it melted. The meltwater made a lake that went on for miles and miles, you know. Over the years, with it being so hot now, it dried up. In twenty years there won’t be any lake left at all.”
“At all? What will happen to everyone when there’s no water?” Molly asked.
&nbs
p; “We will survive if pipes are built to bring water down here from the north. But if not, Lakeside will become a ghost town and the palace up there will be empty too.”
“Do you think Princess Fang will build the pipes?”
“I don’t know. If she is in control of other parts of the world by then, maybe she will simply up and move away, leaving everyone here behind to shrivel up in the sun and die of thirst.”
Molly looked at the pictures longingly. The red tractor in one made her feel really homesick.
“You must miss your time,” Tortillus said.
“Well”—Molly swallowed hard, holding back her tears—“yes, I do.” She hadn’t realized until now how much she had been affected by seeing hypnotized zombies all around her. “I miss my friends and my family.” She paused. “Do you really believe me, Tortillus—that I’m from another time? You can’t do; it sounds mad. You’re just pretending to do.”
The old man sat down in a rocking chair and lit his long pipe. “I believe you,” he said. “I know good hypnotists can stop time and time travel—as long as they have their crystals, of course.” He put an electric lighting stick to the tobacco and blew out a cloud of bonfire-smelling smoke. “Sorry to separate you from your brother,” he apologized, “but I have a sense that you are the person who has the courage that will be needed to overthrow the princess, not him. Am I right?”
Molly gulped. She saw that if Tortillus and she were going to work together, he would need to know the truth about Micky. “Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll tell you about him. But on the condition that you don’t lock him up or do anything bad to him when you find out what he really is.” Tortillus narrowed his eyes. “Because if you do, I won’t help you,” Molly finished.
Tortillus smiled. “Don’t you worry,” he assured her. “I already have an idea of my own.”
“Well,” Molly began, “put it like this: Micky is the one who hypnotized my friend Rocky.”
“Mmm,” mulled Tortillus. “My goodness! I see.”
And so, explaining everything as quickly as she could, Molly told Tortillus about Micky’s sad life. He listened attentively. “Poor, poor boy,” he murmured when Molly finished.
“So … so you don’t blame him?” Molly asked.
“How could I? That boy has been manipulated and used all his life. From what you say, it sounds as though he is now coming around. It’s impressive how quickly it’s happening. He’s like a plant that just needed the light to grow. He needed to see something of what he’d done—to see the truth about Princess Fang and Miss Cribbins. The blindfold has been lifted from his eyes at last.”
Molly found herself relaxing. Now it was time to make an escape plan for them all. She had been ruminating on a few ideas on her way back from town.
“Is there any way you can get in touch with other countries, where the people aren’t hypnotized?” she asked.
“Sadly not,” Tortillus replied. “Princess Fang has created an invisible wall that stops any of our radio waves passing through. So we can’t send radio signals or receive them. And of course there are no televisions in Mont Blancia now. No computers, e-mails, or phones either. I don’t think people in other countries have any idea what is really happening here.” He lay his pipe in a bowl on the table. “But now, Molly, we have to work out a way to get your skills back.” Molly nodded. “You heard the announcement Fang made about the performance tomorrow up at the palace?” She nodded again. “The princess likes to give her foreign guests a good theatrical show. It is always a fairy-tale story acted out by the performers of Lakeside, with dancers, singers, acrobats, and light lasers to make it really spectacular. As head zookeeper, I have received an order that the Qingling animals from the zoological institute will participate. She calls that part ‘The Greatest Circus Show on Earth.’ Lots of flycopters will be carrying the relevant animals up. You and Micky will go too, disguised as animals, and we will get you to that machine.”
Molly’s heart leaped. “Fantastic!” She clapped her hands together. “Micky knows the combination for the machine room lock, so we can get in there!”
“Good. Good.” Tortillus couldn’t help chuckling. “So you agree?”
Molly grinned. “Of course I do.” She laughed. “I mean—wow, Tortillus, it all sounds perfect.”
As Molly laughed, Petula barked. It was lovely to see her mistress happy again.
“There are a few problems,” continued Tortillus, more somber than Molly. “The first is the guards, of course. They will be very difficult to get around.”
“True,” said Molly. Then she stroked Petula and said, “But you know, Tortillus, it might not be such a big problem. Petula might be able to help. I’ve been thinking, you see. Petula has got hypnotism in her. Once she actually made time stand still. It was in a really extreme situation though, so I don’t know if she could find the hypnotic part of her again, but if she could …” Molly leaned over Petula and picked her up. “If she could be smuggled into the palace with me and Micky, maybe we could work as a team. Maybe Petula could hypnotize the guards.” She fingered Petula’s velvety ears. “The only problem would be communicating with Petula to tell her who to hypnotize. I don’t speak dog.”
“No, but Silver does,” said Tortillus, “and he can mind read too.”
“Mind read? I thought so!” Molly exclaimed. “I thought he could because …” She stopped. She didn’t want Tortillus to know that she was a mind-reader too. Tortillus continued.
“Yes, it is an amazing skill,” he said, not noticing Molly’s confusion. “It’s some side effect of his genetic engineering. So if I think to Silver what we want Petula to do, he will be able to explain things to her. He can go with you to the palace tomorrow too.” Tortillus opened the door of his hut and gave a low whistle. Silver fluttered down from the geranium trees nearby and landed on the ground before the tortoise-man, who invited the bird to hop onto his finger. Then Tortillus brought Silver inside, where he stared into the creature’s blue eyes.
Silver looked at the weathered, reptilian face of the old man and gave a small chirrup. Then, sensing that he had been called for a reason, he summoned up a thought bubble over Tortillus’s head. Inside it was a picture of the pug dog, Petula, with her mistress, traveling up to the palace in a zoo crate and then of them both trying to get into a room containing a giant jellyfish and a machine. In this picture, Petula had big, round, swirly, hypnotic eyes and looked as though she was hypnotizing first a guard, then a palace servant, and then the princess of the palace. Silver whistled. He understood what the old man was asking him to sort out.
“Chaaarrp! Naw prab-leem!” he squawked. He fluttered off Tortillus’s bony finger and hopped toward Petula.
Hello again. What’s this all about? Petula asked.
They want you to go up to the palace tomorrow to help your mistress find the giant jellyfish. They want YOU to hypnotize people that need hypnotizing. Petula looked flabbergasted. Yes, I know it’s an odd request, Silver continued. Like asking you to suddenly fly about the room or something, but I’m only the messenger, so don’t blame me!
Petula shook her head. I can’t hypnotize people. I’ve only ever hypnotized a bunch of sleepy mice and an American movie director once, and I’m not even sure I hypnotized him. It might have been my natural charm.
Well, whatever you call it, Silver said, hypnotism or charm, they want you to do it.
Petula whined. I’m not a hypnotist. Really. I tried to hypnotize a horrid pink cat-spider creature at the palace before and nothing happened at all.
Okay. I’ll tell them. Silver hopped in front of the old tortoise man. “Chaaaaarrrrpp! Dog no hyp-tize,” he whistled. “Chaaarrrrp! Dog NO hyp-tize.”
“She knows how to hypnotize! Brilliant!” said Tortillus, clapping his gnarled old hands.
“Chaaaarrrrpp! NO! NO!” Silver tried to explain. “Dog no hyp-tize.”
“Yes, well done, Silver!” Tortillus said, completely misunderstanding the bird. “‘Know! Know!’�
�� he mimicked. “She know, she know! This is good news. Thank you, Silver! Well done, Petula!” He patted her on the head.
A red button on his lapel started to beep. Tortillus put his finger to his mouth, indicating for Molly and the animals to be quiet.
“Yes—sir?” he said in a hypnotized tone.
“Tortillus,” came the young Professor Selkeem’s high-pitched, overexcited voice, “the guards have gone now. Undig those children from wherever you have buried them and bring them here immediately. And don’t eat them on the way!”
“Yes—sir,” Tortillus replied. The red button stopped flashing. He smiled at Molly. “You have to go to him now,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “He will put you in a holding cell in his laboratory and lock you up. Don’t eat anything he gives you. We will bring you food. And don’t worry. Tomorrow we will travel up to the palace with the animals. With the help of your incredible dog, Molly, we will get your hypnotic knowledge back!”
Then suddenly, as if pouring water all over their rekindled hopes, something truly dreadful happened.
Molly heard a voice she recognized. For a moment she couldn’t place it, for it was oddly distorted and amplified, booming out over the zoo. It was a lovely, velvety voice though, and the sound of it filled Molly with a warm feeling. Then she snapped to as she recognized who the voice belonged to and what it was doing. Quickly she slammed her hands over her ears and turned to Tortillus.
“That’s Rocky,” she explained, “my friend—the one Princess Fang took. He was hypnotized by Micky, but he can do voice-only hypnotism. He can’t do any other sort, but if a person listens to him for a few minutes they’ll fall under his power.” Tortillus turned swiftly and opened a drawer, scrabbling around in it for something. He pulled out a lump of soft wax and pulled some tiny pieces off it.
“Here, I use this to polish my shell. Put it in your ears.”
Then he opened the door of his hut. Rocky’s melting voice washed over the zoo:
