by A. J. Ponder
Lilly took a step back.
The contraption hummed as it kept its distance, the eye staring at her eerily. It was horrible. She remembered laughing at her parents’ outrage when she had been caught bugging her little brother’s room. Maybe they’d been right, and keeping a close on eye on the little brat was a violation of privacy and out of line.
Nah.
Besides, this wasn’t the time for introspection. She needed to think fast. And keep her trap closed about what she thought of Mr Big’s project. The time for her to voice her reservations about his dreadbeast would be well after she’d escaped. Until then, the best chance of survival was to convince Squidge that a small success was better than a big failure. “Er, um, what I meant, Squidge, is, well, maybe we could start with something easier, just to kick things off.”
Squidge knuckled his forehead, then grinned. “Of course! A test subject to get you used to our equipment. What about a simple bear-cat hybrid.”
“What? Simple?” Lilly gasped. “Um.” Surely they could make something easier than that. “How about a snake-hybrid instead, I’ve always wanted to try one.”
“Brilliant!” Squidge jumped up and down flapping his arms in excitement. “Making the dreadbeast will be much easier after you’ve gotten used to the lab. I’ve—”
“Great plan,” Lilly smiled. “But we’re a little off track. Right now, we have animals to save. Let’s get to work!”
Nobody moved.
A silver camera eye whirred as it maneuvered toward the door.
“We just need to move some of these insect cages, and maybe the amphibians and reptiles. Squidge, I don’t suppose you know if dinosaurs are susceptible to insecticide?”
Squidge folded his arms and didn’t move. “Who cares? Dinosaurs are too erratic to be of any use anyway.”
“What did you say?” Lilly asked in her best approximation of menacing.
“I said, who cares?” Squidge repeated calmly.
Before Lilly could react with the appropriate outrage the door burst open again.
What now? Lilly thought as Pat Pinhead swaggered in, shadowed by the two zombies, Veins and Basher.
•5•
Uncertainty, Also Known as the Uncertainty Clause
ON EITHER SIDE OF the enormous pinstriped thug, Veins and Basher crashed their palms into their fists.
Lilly shivered. On the positive side, Dr Deathless’ zombies weren’t ripping up the furniture and demanding brains. On the negative side, she wondered if the brain-eating kind of zombie might be easier to deal with. They would somewhat mess up Pinhead’s annoying suit – even if they couldn’t manage to mess up the annoying bully himself.
“You listening, girl?” Pinhead demanded.
Lilly forced herself to concentrate through the whine of the all too obvious surveillance as it floated by.
“I don’t like you,” he said, pointing a meaty finger at her chest. “You’re nothing but paperwork. So the sooner you’re dead, the happier I’ll be. But in the meantime, the rest of you.” He looked about at Missy, Brian and Squidge. “Miss Lionheart is your new boss, so step to it. Get to work! Now!
Her staff jumped to it like they’d been electrocuted. It didn’t exactly make Lilly feel any better. Obviously she wasn’t really the boss. She was just a puppet, and this evil, brainless thug had more authority than she did.
She had an urge to attack him, entertaining the thought of hitting him for all she was worth. She should be able to use his strength against him and prove she was a force to be reckoned with.
Then Pinhead turned his eyes in her direction. Nothing more. And she realised this Pat Pinhead person was not someone you could best – and walk away. He was someone you’d have to kill on your first attempt, or die trying.
He winked at her, and left the room followed by Veins and Basher.
“Ursus urticant,” she muttered at his retreating back.
Lilly found some boots. Great clumsy yellow gumboots, two sizes too large, but at least they’d keep her feet dry while she worked. Then Brian said he knew how to operate the forklift. Which didn’t go quite as well as she hoped. The first thing he did was crash the machine into the Velociraptor cage. It roared and flapped its pint-sized wings.
The huge cage started to wobble and Brian backed his machine up, almost right on top of the cage of an albino Burmese Python. A pregnant albino Burmese Python.
“Watch what you’re doing,” Lilly yelled, rescuing the python and jumping clear as the Velociraptor cage crashed to the ground.
The screeches of the very angry dinosaur echoed around the menagerie.
“Just getting used to these controls,” Brian yelled cheerfully, spinning the machine in a tight circle and scooping the cage across the floor, before it finally tipped upright. “I’ve got it now.”
“You’d better,” she yelled back, relieved the Velociraptor looked more angry than hurt. “For goodness sakes, these animals are treasures!”
It flicked a claw at her through the bars, failed, and then tried to swipe the forklift.
Once Brian got the hang of the controls, the job moved much faster. Soon all of the smaller insects and snakes were safely in the lab next door, while the larger more delicate creatures had been partitioned off, using some of the larger cages covered with tarpaulins.
Finally, three hours later and utterly exhausted, they finished spraying the mammals, and rinsing away the excess water. Lilly was almost too exhausted to stand, let alone think straight.
“I’m going to my room,” she announced. I don’t suppose any of you know where it might possibly be?”
“This way, Miss Lionheart,” Missy said, ever so respectfully. Fortunately neither of the boys would recognise Missy’s tone as being the type of respectful that is interchangeable with humouring the idiot boss, so Lilly chose to ignore it.
“You mustn’t let yourself get upset,” the girl advised as soon as they got out into the corridor.
“I’m doing my best,” Lilly growled.
Missy took the hint and fell quiet, until she came to an intersection. “Um, our room’s just through here.” She opened consecutive doors revealing a dorm-room with two beds, one each side.
“What?” Lilly demanded. “Surely I can have a room to myself?”
Missy ignored her. “That bed’s mine,” she said pointing to the one on the left.
Except for a pink flowery bag in the middle of the bed on the left, both beds looked just the same – chilly and about as welcoming as a plank of wood with hospital corners. There were some lovely dresses hanging in the mini wardrobe on Missy’s side.
Lilly sighed. “Fine. Please close the door on your way out.” She sank onto the bed and started pulling off the revolting yellow boots, and inspecting her ruined stockings.
Missy hovered in the door. “Don’t you want dinner, miss?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not hungry,” Lilly said, being about as polite as Missy was respectful. Although to give her credit, the girl was keeping up the facade rather well.
“I’ll get you something, miss.”
“You don’t have to,” Lilly said, but Missy had already gone.
She was half asleep when Missy came back with two trays.
“That’s very sweet of you,” Lilly said, forcing herself to sit up and smile. Chops, boiled cabbage, and potato. Carefully she put the meat to one side and picked at a potato.
“You never said how you got here,” Missy said. “Did you apply for a pet-shop job too? Brian and I were so excited. We never thought we’d both get it.”
“Oh.” Lilly wasn’t sure whether congratulations or commiserations were in order.
“So, did you apply too?” Missy asked.
“No.” Lilly continued to pick at the inside of the potato. “I just … got here.” Was it worth mentioning she was a vegetarian? No, best left for another day. Instead she yawned and put her plate aside. “I’m sorry, I’m too tired to eat.”
Lilly tossed her head back dow
n on the pillow, intending to sleep.
A rustle under her ear made her freeze.
Carefully she felt under her pillow.
A note.
She turned over, pulling the covers over her head as if she just wanted to cut off the outside world and sleep.
“Great,” she muttered.
“Are you okay?” Missy asked.
As if things weren’t difficult enough, some idiot was trying to pass her secret notes. Missy? Best not to risk asking. Best not to even look. Whoever it was probably meant to involve her in some ill-conceived spy-saboteur plot, the kind of endeavour that got people killed in a place like this.
But maybe the person contacting her knew what they were doing. Maybe they could help her escape.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Lilly tried to make out the faint writing in the dim light under her covers. In the end she figured out the words, Are you Schrodinger’s cat?
Nothing else, just those four words.
What did they mean? She remembered telling her parents it was obviously code for, “Are you in or are you out?” But apparently there were other things that could be read into that short phrase. Schrodinger’s cat references tended to imply Danger, Hope and Death. Or, less obliquely, utilised as a more direct threat. “You live until we know which side you are on, so join our side, or else!”
Lilly smiled, remembering the dinner conversation not so long ago where Shrodinger’s cat codes and their meanings had featured heavily. So, maybe, it was also a hint someone here knew her parents awfully well – or was in contact with them. And if this was a message from her parents, then they knew where she was. They could help her escape!
No. That made no sense. Even if they had managed to track her to Mr Big’s lair, getting a message to someone on the inside was a whole different story. They were good, but not that good.
Unless—
Her smile froze. What if they’d deliberately dropped her into this mess? Mr Big wasn’t the biggest criminal mastermind in existence, and this could be considered a minor training mission, at least for her hallowed family. Couldn’t they take no for an answer?
No. They would never do that to her. They knew there were so many other things she wanted to accomplish, besides taking up the family business and becoming a top international spy. And they needed her at home to look after her animals, especially Embraldo, the lizard-gecko hybrid and Sharps, the toothed lorikeet. She missed them all like crazy.
Lilly took deep calming breaths, pulled the pillow over her head and tossed and turned for a bit longer.
It didn’t help.
Now all she could think of was how much they would be missing her. Wondering how she was. Planning to get her back home safe to all the animals she had left behind.
“Shall I turn out the light?” Missy asked at last.
“Yes, please,” Lilly replied. But that didn’t help either.
At last she gave up on sleep, discreetly pulled an e-notebook out of her purse and started writing under the covers.
§
Dear Diary,
The critters here are great, although they will need a lot of TLC after the neglect they’ve suffered. Given some time, I expect I’ll get the staff and the lab up to standard. My team seem nice enough, even though they are severely lacking in training. The equipment though, now some of that is real top of the line apparatus. Some of it is so cutting edge I’ve only ever read about it in New Scientist and Gene Splicing Weekly.
Still, I’d like to know, how much danger I am in? And when I can get some decent clothes? And some shoes. Walking around in yellow gumboots all the time is hardly the impression I like to make. I hope I can escape, or that someone will come and rescue me before my fashion sense completely dies, but I doubt anyone knows I’m even here.
I’m missing home. Sharps most of all.
§
INTERNAL EMAILS: DEC 4
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: LL
Time:
I am not seeing a code in her writing, maybe she thinks we cannot read her dairy as she carry’s her notebook about on her person. Wait a minuet, she’s hiding another piece of paper in her fist. Its a note—
Will report soon.
3sftm
§
Lilly discreetly tucked the diary away with a smile, flourished a piece of paper in front of the camera, and started writing...
§
Dear Minions,
I am awfully short of clothes, and a nice pair of shoes. Is there any way this could be rectified as quickly as possible.
Yours Sincerely,
Lilliana Lionheart
•6•
In or Out?
LILLY TOSSED AND TURNED all night, worrying about the note she’d found under her pillow. Whoever had sent it might as well have asked, Are you alive or are you dead? And, if she was to be the cat in this equation, surely her best bet would be to get out of the box before it sealed.
If only she hadn’t been so cocky when she’d seen that car. If only she’d run.
Quietly, so as not to disturb Missy still lying fast asleep, Lilly crept out into the corridor. Nobody much seemed to be moving, not even any cameras. Heart in mouth, she took the opportunity to wander down toward where she believed the exit should be, softly drumming on the walls with her fingers. Listening for anything that might indicate a secret panel, or room.
As a minion passed her, Lilly tried to ignore her internal panic. Wrong way, wrong way, go the other way! But the minion, instead of marching her back to the lab or her room, just sneered like she was beneath his notice. Good, she thought, and walked on. A camera eye passed her, floating eerily along like a jellyfish in the water. She pretended not to notice it as she continued down through the long corridor, until a glance behind confirmed it was gone.
She checked a door.
Locked.
And the next and the next. Trying not to think of what might happen if a door opened and someone was inside.
Ahead, the path split. To the right she thought she could see the back of the kitchen. Behind, were her room and the labs. And to the left, lay the unknown. And an exit.
Lilly summoned up her courage by remembering Dr Deathless, with his crazy threat, “ … if I die, I’ve wired this place to blow.” It would be crazy to stay with a madman like that on the loose. Then, of course, there was Mr Big with his rabid rottweiler.
She had to get out of this place. The faster, the better.
Taking a deep breath, Lilly kept walking. The stretch of corridor remained deserted until a cleaner bustled past, mops and bucket in hand.
He went through a flash oak doorway to the room where Lilly had first met Mr Big.
Lilly tried to be calm. The door was open, just by a crack. Should she walk on past? Or should she take this opportunity? She drew closer, and stopped to listen. There was a slight humming noise, and the dull whine of a motor coming from the room, but no voices. Screwing up her courage, she took a deep breath and peeked in.
Something flew at her face.
Lilly rocked backward in fright as one of the floating cameras whirred past, pointing its creepy eye at her before squeezing through the crack between door and jamb.
Keep on walking, she told herself. Knowing she’d been well and truly caught where she shouldn’t be, she started calling softly – not because she wanted to be found, but for the benefit of any listening devices on the camera. “Can anybody help? I think I’ve lost my way.”
She continued along the corridor, the camera following behind with its dull whine. And there was another noise. Something else. Something similar, like the hum of a refrigerator. It was getting stronger, along with a familiar cracking-popping noise – definitely not the giant Rottweiler Annie, crunching on bones, but the sound she’d heard when she first entered the underground lair.
The camera eye raced ahead of her, as she moved toward the strange sound – a thin
hum interspersed by crackling mini thunder-claps. It was close now. She could almost feel the vibrations coming from a cement-block corridor wall. What could it be? She tapped the wall.
Cement. Definitely. A door was up ahead, but she didn’t get quite close enough to read the sign on it, before it opened and a guard intercepted her, his finger on the trigger of his stunner.
“Hello,” she said, bright and innocent as if she’d met a friendly face on the street.
His face didn’t twitch. “Young miss, you shouldn’t be here.”
“No, I’m meant to be in the lab. Is it that way?” Lilly didn’t quite point to the door – that would have been plain unbelievably stupid – but just past it, as if the lab might be down the corridor a little further.
“Miss, you gotta go back the way you came. This here place is dangerous for someone like you. See through those holes, it’s all electrified. We can’t even turn it off from this side.”
“Really?” Lilly asked with a ditzy toss of her head, and asked the obvious question – given a sturdy pair of shoes, or indeed her ugly yellow gumboots should insulate someone from an electric floor. “What’s the point? Why would anyone electrify a floor?”
She used the man’s momentary silence to peer through the gaps in the cement blocks and found she didn’t need to fake an expression of confusion. There were guards, two of them, but that wasn’t the strange part. Nor were the murder holes they hid behind, well they were an unusual design for arrows, but presumably perfectly appropriate for bullets to pass through. What was really odd were the epilepsy inducing strobes of blue light, illuminating water misting down from pipes running along the ceiling. And the very annoying manual switch on the other side of the electrified metal.
The electrification would all be pointless over complication, easily foiled by a pair of rubber-soled shoes – except the lightning sparked erratically through sheets of falling water. The blue flashes and mini-thunderclaps were no doubt lethal, and would require a bulky Faraday cage to avoid. Hard to manufacture one of those without being noticed.
