Pick Your Poison

by Lauren Child

  It was the same thing. The same shape, rendered in different ways. The logo was a road map: but it was also a 4-dimensional cube.

  Four dimensions meant four coordinates for each point. She drew the logo again – the 2-dimensional projection of the 4-dimensional cube – and sketched in the coordinates for each point.

  She stared at the label again.

  FOUR GREAT TASTES.

  ‘Four, great, tastes,’ she muttered. ‘Four, great, tastes.’

  ‘Taste!’ she shouted. Bug yelped.

  Of course! thought Ruby. Because there were four tastes, weren’t there? Salt, bitter, sour, sweet. So if you wanted to lead someone to a point on the map … all you needed to do was put the right combination of tastes into the bottle – a 1 if the taste was there and a 0 if the taste wasn’t – and you could pinpoint a location.

  She kept scribbling. What taste would correspond to what coordinate? The natural thing would be to order the tastes as they appeared on the tongue map. She sketched it out.

  Then she circled the music school again, this time on the drawing with the coordinates.

  (0,1,0,1) would correspond to … SOUR SWEET.

  Bingo.

  The first bottle had been sugar and lemon in water. Sweet and sour. Sour and sweet. Or, if you mapped it using binary, in four dimensions of taste …

  (0,1,0,1)

  It was clever. Fiendishly clever.

  So where was the second bottle pointing to? Ruby cast her mind back to the lab, with SJ. Salt and sugar – that’s what the second bottle had contained. Salt and sweet. She circled the matching point on the shape.

  Then she held it up next to the map of Twinford, looking for the corresponding place on the College Town district road map.

  ‘The Mirror,’ said Ruby. Bug looked up, ears alert, but ‘Mirror’ meant nothing to him.

  ‘That’s the Twinford Mirror building,’ she said. This time Bug didn’t lift his head. He was bored of this game. No treats, no walks.

  The billboard had given her the first location, which was the Little Seven Grocers on Little Seven Street. The bottle bought from the Little Seven Grocers had announced where the next bottle could be found: the university music school, as it turned out. The third bottle would be located somewhere in the Twinford Mirror building on Gödel Avenue.

  She was about to grab her coat and run right down there when a thought occurred to her. Who was to say the bottle would even be there right now? After all, the guy in the red hat hadn’t immediately scooted off to the music school the second he had tasted the contents of the bottle he had got from the Little Seven Grocers. In fact he hadn’t shown up there until four days later. So the question to ask was, how did he know when it would be there?

  She wondered if she was too late already. It could be that if there was a bottle at the Twinford Mirror building and it hadn’t already been taken away by the man in the red hat, then it had been found by someone else – maybe a janitor had disposed of its partly drunk contents and it was sitting at the bottom of a garbage can.

  How to know?

  She picked up the bottle, turning it round and round, reading every word on the label before finally twisting the lid back on top and then …

  Click.

  She saw what she hadn’t seen before.

  No! No, it would not be there, not now, not yet. She knew this for a certainty now. OK, not a certainty, but she would have staked the contents of her piggy bank on it. The drink she had tasted was just salt and sugar and water – it would last almost forever when the bottle was closed. So it was strange that the best before date stamped on the lid was tomorrow’s date.

  There was something else unusual about the lid. Around its edge were twelve little dashes, all slanting in, reminding her of a clock face. One of the dashes was coloured red. What if it represented a time, in this case eleven? But did this mean eleven in the morning or eleven in the evening? She could see nothing else that might tell her. She flipped out the magnification glass from the Escape Watch and held it over the lid and there it was, very faint but just possible to see: the letters PM.

  This was a breakthrough – this was something to tell Blacker.

  She was about to radio him when there was a buzz from her watch. The message read:

  >> MEET ME IN LUCELLO’S.

  SHE LOCATED LUCELLO’S DELI EASILY ENOUGH. It was in the heart of the Village, sometimes referred to as Little Italy, a part of town known for its bohemian cafes, Italian shops and interesting residents. People travelled across town to purchase their squash tortellini and twenty-year-aged pecorino; during the Christmas season queues could be seen circling the block. It had become very up-market.

  One of those interesting residents Ruby was surprised to see while walking to the deli was Sal from the Back-Spin. As Ruby crossed Constanza, she saw Sal walk up to an exclusive apartment building – formerly a tea warehouse – carrying bags of expensive-looking groceries. The doorman opened the door for her and she went in.

  Huh, Ruby thought. Either Back-Spin pays ten times the minimum wage or Sal does have a rich ma and pa after all. She couldn’t wait to tell Del. I knew she was a phoney! A moment later – about the time it would take to go up in an elevator – a light came on in a topfloor window.

  Penthouse, thought Ruby. Scratch that – filthy rich ma and pa; super phoney.

  She continued on her way to Lucello’s.

  Hitch was standing at the counter sipping espresso.

  He spotted Ruby’s arrival in the mirror. ‘You eaten kid?’

  ‘A snack,’ said Ruby, ‘but the apple donuts look good.’

  ‘We’ll take a donut, Paulie,’ said Hitch, handing the man a few bills, ‘better make that two.’

  Ruby looked around her. ‘So where’s the door?’

  ‘Same place,’ said Hitch. ‘I only told you Lucello’s because the coffee’s good.’ He pulled on his raincoat, turning up the collar against the cold, and they headed out into the wind and drizzle. Newly fallen leaves and hotdog wrappers chased each other along the sidewalk and into the shadows. Ruby and Hitch crossed the street, turning left until they reached Broker Avenue.

  ‘So you had a breakthrough kid?’

  ‘How dya know?’ said Ruby. ‘You got me bugged or something?’

  ‘No,’ said Hitch, ‘I’ve just got confidence in you.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Ruby. ‘I get the feeling you might be alone in that.’

  ‘If that was a fact then you wouldn’t be working here,’ he said. ‘So you finally cracked something?’

  ‘I have no idea what any of it means, but I’ve cracked the code,’ said Ruby.

  Hitch raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds complicated.’

  ‘So who wants to see me?’ she looked at him. ‘Oh, don’t tell me, Dr Selgood wants a chat?’

  ‘Worse than that kid, your boss wants to see you – alone,’ he added.

  ‘Why?’ said Ruby.

  Hitch shrugged. ‘Maybe she wants to tell you how great you are, how should I know?’

  When they arrived, they shook of the rain and walked over to where Buzz sat.

  ‘Agent Redfort, you can go right on in,’ said Buzz.

  Ruby turned to Hitch. ‘You sure you’re not coming?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re on your own kid.’

  Perfect, muttered Ruby.

  RUBY KNOCKED AND WAITED FOR LB’S ‘COME IN’ before she opened the door and stepped inside.

  ‘Sit,’ said LB.

  Ruby sat and LB opened the file that lay on her desk.

  ‘I regret I couldn’t meet with you when you were last in.’ She looked down at the file. ‘Hitch has brought me up to speed on what you say you witnessed at the music school.’

  Ruby noted LB’s use of words – like she was not 100% sure Ruby was telling the truth.

  ‘He informed me that you believe there may be a connection back to the Australian.’ Again LB read from the file. ‘So this man you followed in Harker Square. The man in th
e red hat. You say he works for her?’

  ‘Yes, he was on the way to meet a couple of beefcakes at the university music school.’

  LB looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Goons for hire, you know, leg breakers?’ said Ruby.

  Her boss’s expression morphed into one of irritation.

  ‘Assassins?’ said Ruby.

  LB nodded. ‘Yes, the assassins, they are both locked up downtown and undergoing police questioning.’

  ‘Has either one of them squealed?’ asked Ruby.

  LB looked at her impatiently. ‘This is not an episode of Crazy Cops, Redfort. Could you please refrain from using this appalling TV slang.’

  ‘Sorry, I mean, are they talking? Did they say anything? Anything we don’t already know?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ said LB, ‘though it’s not unusual for hard nuts …’ LB corrected herself, ‘criminals for hire, to keep their silence. No doubt talking to us would bring about “consequences” – none of them very pleasant, I’m sure.’

  ‘So we don’t know who this Aussie woman … I mean Australian woman is and who she is working for?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ said LB, ‘though what interests me is that you are the only one to have seen her.’

  ‘You’re beginning to sound like Agent Delaware.’

  ‘Well, at the risk of sounding like him again, do you have any thoughts on why this might be?’

  ‘Just lucky I guess.’

  ‘Spectrum has never picked up on her, there has never been any sighting of any woman fitting the description you gave us, what was it –’ she read from the file – ‘a “comfortably dressed middle-aged woman, floral dress, blonde hair, blue eyes, shoulder purse, gun”.’

  ‘What do you want me to say – maybe I just bring out the psychopathic tendencies in people?’

  ‘That sounds totally plausible,’ said LB.

  ‘What exactly are you asking me?’ said Ruby.

  ‘What I am asking myself,’ said LB, giving her a stern stare, ‘is why Spectrum, with all its agents, all its intelligence and high-tech search-and-find equipment, can’t even begin to find a match for the woman you describe.’

  ‘You think I invented her?’ said Ruby. ‘Who do you think persuaded me to walk backwards off that cliff edge on Wolf Paw Mountain?’

  ‘Could you have slipped, hallucinated, maybe? You were under a lot of stress.’

  ‘Now you’re sounding like Dr Selgood,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I’m trying to get to the cold unemotional heart of things – that’s my job,’ said LB.

  ‘Well, this woman you don’t think exists is back in Twinford and planning murder,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said LB peering down at her file, ‘you overheard a man with an Australian accent quote his boss and use the word “sweetie” – so you’re saying this boss would be her?’

  Ruby nodded.

  LB was about to quiz her again on the subject when she paused and said, ‘Redfort, why do you have the words WAKE UP AND SMELL THE BANANA MILK inked on your arm?’

  As it transpired, Ruby didn’t have to answer that question because LB’s telephone began to ring. She picked up the receiver. ‘I’ll be there in two minutes.’ She pointed to the door and without another word, Ruby exited the room.

  When Ruby arrived back in the atrium, she found Hitch gone and not an agent soul to be seen. Only the mushroom was left. She walked over to where Buzz sat, her coloured telephones beeping and blinking.

  ‘So where is everybody?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘In a briefing,’ replied Buzz.

  ‘What briefing?’ said Ruby.

  ‘It’s classified,’ said Buzz.

  ‘Shouldn’t I be in there?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’re not on the list.’

  ‘What list?’

  Buzz pointed up at the names projected on the huge white wall of the atrium.

  ‘That list, you’re not on it.’

  And it was true, she wasn’t, just about everyone else was, but she wasn’t.

  ‘Everyone else seems to be on it,’ she said.

  ‘Well, they’re not,’ said Buzz. ‘Not everyone is on the list.’

  It was a very ‘Buzz’ reply, annoying yet accurate, and there was little point arguing about it.

  ‘Blacker,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Blacker, he’s not on the list.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So I think I might just go down to his office and pay him a visit.’

  ‘He’s not in.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s not in.’

  ‘Jeepers Buzz, could you be a little less helpful.’

  ‘I’m not here to be helpful.’

  ‘Well, congratulations on not straying from your employment brief.’

  Buzz made no wisecrack smart reply, it wasn’t her style, which was because she wouldn’t know a wisecrack smart reply if it bonked her on the nose.

  ‘Could you perhaps do me a big favour and contact Blacker and tell him I have solved the Taste Twister conundrum – it’s a code, by the way,’ said Ruby. ‘Here, this is the bottle and these are my workings, tells him everything he needs to know, including the time. I’m sure he’ll be super interested when he finally makes it in.’

  Buzz was clearly not interested. ‘Leave it on the table in the administration room, I will schedule a contact call,’ she said.

  Jeepers, thought Ruby, do you ever feel a desire to be impulsive?

  But what she actually said was, ‘I appreciate your help. Look, is it OK if I go to the canteen and eat my apple donut while I wait for Hitch?’

  The telephone operator looked at her without expression and said, ‘Yes.’

  So Ruby picked up the little brown bag containing the two donuts from Lucello’s and headed down the corridor to the Spectrum canteen. She’d reached the bank of elevators when it occurred to her it might be a nice touch to leave one of these delicious marvels on Blacker’s desk. He was no small fan of the donut.

  She was nearing the coding room when she saw a man coming out. He didn’t look in her direction, but she recognised him as the agent Blacker had been speaking with the other day, the one whose eyebrows met in the middle. He didn’t see her and she didn’t do anything to attract his attention. The guy gave her the creeps. He had left the door slightly ajar and she was about to push on in when she heard a voice.

  Blacker’s voice. He was talking to someone on the phone.

  ‘Yes, I’m on to it …’

  She listened.

  ‘It’s strictly classified … my job is to lock this thing down … it’s only by luck and happenstance that she hasn’t heard.’

  Who hasn’t heard? thought Ruby. And what hasn’t she heard?

  ‘She’s struck out on her own – so until we find out what’s occurring, say nothing … yes, that’s correct.’

  He must be talking about someone outside of coding? But why would he need to say this? It was entirely understood that information would be released when the coding team deemed it useful.

  ‘I know it’s irregular but I’m telling you, it’s important that it doesn’t reach her … she mustn’t suspect. Just keep watching.’

  Or was it someone higher up the food chain? Not LB, surely not LB …

  Her mind was beginning to spin. But as it happened she was right, he wasn’t talking about LB.

  ‘I repeat,’ he said, ‘she’s a loose cannon, who knows what she’ll do, she’s a danger to all concerned … Look, how many ways have I got to say this, she’s dangerously unhinged.’

  And then:

  ‘So whatever you do, don’t let Redfort in on this.’

  Ruby felt the breath knocked out of her, though she hadn’t been struck.

  As quietly as she could she backed away from the door, and when it was safe to, she ran.

  She managed to make it back to the exit without anyone noticing her, and
while Buzz was engaged on a call, she slipped past her into the administration room.

  The admin team showed no sign of interest as Ruby walked over to the package still sitting on the desk.

  She was aware that she couldn’t do anything about the information she had already passed onto Blacker, too late to change that, too late to unsolve the code. Once he knew the Taste Twister puzzle was cracked, he would pick up the third clue and maybe she needed this clue herself – if she didn’t crack this case then she couldn’t prove that she wasn’t some unreliable loose cannon, or worse: dangerously unhinged.

  She couldn’t stop him knowing about it but she could take back one small piece of information.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Ruby spun around to see Miles Froghorn not two feet away from her.

  ‘That’s Spectrum property,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the bottle.

  She counted to six.

  ‘I am aware of that, I was the one who brought it in to HQ and made it Spectrum property,’ said Ruby, trying to keep her voice calm and even and resist the urge to call this potatohead a potatohead.

  ‘It’s evidence,’ said Froghorn.

  ‘I know, Froghorn,’ this time she observed the silent G, ‘which is why I am putting it in the refrigerator – it needs to be kept chilled.’

  Agent Froghorn seemed grudgingly satisfied with this and watched her place the bottle in the chiller. He did not notice her unscrew the lid and let it fall inside her sleeve. Nor did he notice how she replaced it with another lid, taken from another random bottle in the chiller – one with today’s date on it.

  Blacker might know where the next location was, but only she knew the right time to be there.

  RUBY MADE HER WAY BACK UP TO THE SUPERMARKET and found herself once again in canned goods, which was exactly how she felt.

  As she walked out into the dark of the evening, she pushed her hands deep into her pockets, wishing she had remembered her gloves. She felt something and pulled out the white card embossed with the Yellow Wind-Dragon.