The Knight's Armor

by Paul Gamble

  “Snacks aren’t supposed to taste ‘not bad,’” complained Jack. “They’re supposed to taste fantastic. If all snacks do is taste ‘not too bad,’ then why wouldn’t we just wait until mealtimes instead of spoiling our appetites?”

  * * *

  Once at school Jack found Trudy waiting for him in the foyer.

  David looked at his watch. “All right, I’m going to go and line up for my audition. They’re starting at nine o’clock. You guys make sure you’re there to see me.” He wandered off toward the assembly hall.

  Before Jack could explain to Trudy that they were going to have to watch David trying to act, she thrust a health bar under his nose. “Have you seen these?”

  “Yeah, David was just eating one.”

  Trudy shoved the wrapper of the bar right into Jack’s face so he couldn’t help focusing on the brand name. It read Mr. M’s Marvelous Munchies. Jack’s jaw dropped.

  “Ughh ughh guhh,” Jack said. Then he realized that it was very difficult to speak coherently with a dropped jaw. He pulled his jaw back up and tried again. “Of course! That makes perfect sense. My parents tried to feed me Mr. M’s Veggie Burgers last night and his cereal this morning. And if Mr. M’s involved in the film, he’d want to persuade the kids at the school to eat his food too.”

  “Exactly,” said Trudy as an enormous grin split her face.

  Jack frowned. “Um, Trudy, you do realize that Mr. M might be trying to poison the entire country—including our school?”

  “Isn’t it great?”

  Jack suspected that Trudy’s and his definitions of what was “great” might substantially differ. “What’s great about it?”

  “Think! If Mr. M’s trying to poison the entire school, then we’re definitely onto something. And if we’re onto something, then we’re closer to finding my mother.”

  If it had been anyone else, Jack might have pointed out that the value of rescuing one person might be slightly outweighed if the entire school had to be poisoned, but he knew how much Trudy was missing her mother. He also knew how good Trudy was at punching. A thought struck Jack. “Wait a minute, David’s been eating some of these things. He might be…”

  Trudy shook her head. “Realistically, it isn’t as simple as the snacks being poisoned. Look around you.” Jack did. Other children were walking up and down the corridors, some of them merrily chewing on Mr. M’s nutritious bars. None of them seemed to be jumping up and down, breaking out in strange skin conditions, or frothing at the mouth.38

  “Okay, but I still think we should go and stop David from eating any more snacks.”

  “You can explain to him later,” said Trudy. “I want to go back to the model farm and see what’s going on there.”

  “But didn’t I just blow that place up?”

  “The red barn and the grain silo are still standing. I think there’s something about them that we’re missing.” Trudy grabbed Jack by the sleeve and hauled him toward the playing fields.

  Jack dug his feet into the ground, thus managing to slow Trudy slightly and annoy her immensely. “What are you doing?”

  “We can go to the red barn later; I promised David we’d go and watch him audition.” Jack explained to Trudy about David’s sudden interest in becoming a film star.

  Trudy grimaced. “Do we have to? We’re trying to find my mum—don’t you think that’s more important?”

  Jack sighed. “But think, Trudy—Mr. M said he was involved in making the film.”

  “Do you think he might be at the auditions?” asked Trudy.

  “I doubt he’d be that foolhardy—but there might be some other clues.”

  As they walked toward the assembly hall, Jack did his best to explain to Trudy what had happened to him last night. Trudy listened carefully before she spoke. “Do you think Mr. M was controlling you by using the food?”

  “I wondered about that—but you can’t control people’s minds with food. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “What about the birds then? Were they part of Mr. M’s plan?”

  “I think they definitely have something to do with it. Why were they sitting on the power lines? And then why did they fly to me? If we can figure that out, I think we’ll have solved a large part of the problem.”

  “And the driverless car?”

  Jack shrugged. “Might well have just been a driverless car. Lots of people seem to be making those these days.”

  “Well, at least you got away safely.”

  “You say that, but my favorite pajamas were ruined. Mum says she’ll try to wash them and then see if she can sew them back together—but I suspect that by the time they go through the spin cycle there’ll be more holes than pajamas—so I’d look pretty silly wearing them.”

  Just as they were speaking of looking silly because of the clothes one wore, Jack and Trudy were coincidentally passing Static’s concession stand, where he was still doing a booming trade in selling his superhero merchandise.

  “He seems to be doing rather well.”

  Trudy tutted noisily. “Apparently he’s been going around telling everyone he saved Edwyn’s life.”

  “Well he did … kind of,” said Jack.

  Trudy ground her teeth. “We’ve saved Northern Ireland twice this month and no one’s buying any of our merchandise.”

  Jack considered pointing out that part of the reason for this was that they hadn’t actually designed any merchandise yet. Possibly because they were spending too much of their time saving Northern Ireland.

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  WASHING MACHINES

  PRIOR TO THEIR INVENTION

  A long time before washing machines were invented, people had to use different ways to clean their clothes. As with all great inventions they tried all sorts of experiments before they came across a method that worked. They tried shouting at the clothes, dragging them along the ground, and even throwing them into the air. Naturally, none of these approaches worked.

  Eventually, one individual suggested that they try beating the clothes against rocks in the river. Stone Age people were astonished to find that this approach worked. (Basically Stone Age washing machines were just large rocks. On the downside, they were quite labor-intensive to operate, but on the upside they did come with very long warranties.)

  One of the Stone Age people then suggested that since that had worked so well for washing clothes, maybe they should also try washing their faces that way. This second experiment took slightly longer, largely because they had to wait until the Stone Age man who tried it recovered from his severe concussion before he chiseled up his report.

  What we can learn from this story is that it is vitally important to remember that different cleaning methods should be used for different objects. It can also help us understand the difference between a mistake and a disaster. If you accidentally put some clothes into the dishwasher, this can be considered a mistake. If, however, you put some dishes into the washing machine, this is almost certainly a disaster.

  * * *

  13

  AUDITION

  The assembly hall was packed with children who all wanted to audition for a part in the upcoming fantasy film. Jack tried standing on his tiptoes to see over the sea of faces and spot where David was.

  Trudy was less interested in the children and instead was scanning the adults who were trying to get them to stand in neat lines. “There seem to be a lot of people working on this film. Are any of them Mr. M?”

  Jack looked around the room. There were half a dozen adults dressed all in black and carrying clipboards. None of them had the distinctive shaggy white hair and beard that Mr. M possessed. “Sorry, Trudy. No luck.”

  Trudy sighed. “It looks like they’re really planning on making a film. They’ve even got animatronics.” Trudy pointed to a series of robotic goblin warriors that stood in one corner. A special-effects woman was pressing buttons on a control panel that made the goblins bang their swords against th
eir shields.

  David was standing with a group of other children who were looking at a table covered in props for use in the film. There were armor, face masks, and a range of weapons. Jack tugged urgently on Trudy’s sleeve. “Look at David. He’s playing with a weapon. This is going to end badly.”

  Trudy snorted at Jack. “Don’t be ridiculous—those are all rubber weapons. Even David can’t cause chaos with those.” Jack had a feeling that Trudy was underestimating just quite how clumsy David was.

  David had picked up a rubber flail—a long pole with a spiked ball attached to its end. He idly began whirling it around his head. For a second it almost appeared as if he was coordinated. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by dozens of other children, he managed to miss all of them. But then, rather predictably, the flail slipped out of his hand and smacked into the head of one of the media executives who was standing across the table. The man stumbled backward, then forward before finally collapsing on the props table.

  The table immediately seesawed upward, launching dozens of rubber weapons into the air. In line with the law of gravity, they arched and then began falling down on the children below them, cracking them on their heads and shoulders. David looked sheepish and began walking away, whistling innocently. The other children started scrambling, trying to get out of the way of the falling weapons, and crashed into each other. The room was so packed it was like having a human domino rally made out of children.39 Suddenly people were swarming back and forth and running into each other.

  “Do you think we should help?” Jack asked.

  “What would we do? You can’t fight a stampede,”40 Trudy said. “Anyway, at least David has the sense to move away from the props table. It can’t get any worse now.”

  They watched as David moved away from the chaos he had caused. He looked around trying to find somewhere he could sit down and stay out of trouble. Although David’s motivation was good, his execution was relatively poor as he sat on the control panel for the animatronic warrior goblins.

  The minute that David plopped himself down on the control panel, the robot goblins began moving round the room, waving their swords and brandishing their shields. Children were running, ducking, and crashing into one another trying to avoid the deadly animatronics. It was hard to tell which was louder, the shouting and screaming or the thundering sounds of feet as people desperately ran to safety.

  “Maybe we should help now?” Jack suggested.

  “I think the way we can help best is by getting David out of this place before he somehow causes the entire hall to collapse.”

  Luckily David had already reached the conclusion that he probably wasn’t welcome at the audition anymore and was marching rapidly toward the exit. One of the media executives was following and caught up with David just as he reached Trudy and Jack.

  “What on earth were you doing, young man? You see the chaos you’ve caused?”

  “I might have sat on the control panel thing by accident,” David admitted.

  The media executive shook her head. “But that’s insane—it takes months of training to operate that thing. How did you manage to turn the robots on just by sitting on it?”

  “It might be that he just has a very talented bottom,” observed Jack.

  “I always suspected it was special,” said David. “But it’s nice to have it officially confirmed.”

  The media executive lifted a clipboard. “Well, we don’t need that kind of chaos around here. You won’t be getting called back to any more auditions. Now what is your name?”

  “David Sacher.”

  The woman looked down at her clipboard and found David’s name. Then she frowned. “Actually, maybe you have talent after all. We’ll want you to come back to further auditions.”

  The woman gave David a sheet of paper telling him when he was to audition next.

  “That was odd,” Jack observed. “I mean, why would they want you back … don’t you think that’s odd?”

  David waved the piece of paper in front of Jack’s face. “Clearly they recognize talent. Some of us just have a special something.”

  “You certainly have something special, David.” Trudy looked past David and into the hall. The media executives had finally managed to switch off the animatronic goblins and stop the children from stampeding. Someone had found a first aid kit and minor injuries were being treated. “How do you manage to cause that kind of carnage and yet come out without even a scratch on you?’

  “It’s strange for sure,” David admitted. “But generally it’s what happens. I put it down to the fact that I know how much of a disaster I am, so when something like this happens I have the good sense to stay out of my own way.”

  “David, we’re going to go and look at the red barn. You go straight to class, all right? And try not to start any further battles.”

  David turned and walked down the corridor. “I’m not making any promises.”

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  STAMPEDES

  CAUSES

  Although stampedes are frequently associated with cattle, almost any animal, including a human, can stampede.

  Of course, the danger of stampedes varies enormously from animal to animal. If a herd of cows are stampeding toward you, it’s best to get out of the way. If a swarm of mice is approaching you, you’re probably safe enough standing your ground (although it is advisable to empty your pockets of any cheese that you are carrying). If you ever find yourself stampeded by tortoises, it’s probably best to get out of the way, as they can give you a nasty nip—but at the same time, you don’t exactly have to hurry—you probably have time to read to the end of the chapter.

  Humans stampede for various reasons, but generally the most common cause is a 50 percent off plasma screen television sale two weeks before Christmas.

  * * *

  14

  GRAIN SILO

  “Do we really have to do this?” Jack asked as Trudy remorselessly dragged him by the sleeve across the playing fields toward the smoldering farm, red barn, and grain silo.

  “Mr. M tried to kill you here. That makes me suspect that there’s something he was hiding.”

  “I’m really not sure I want to go back there. That plant nearly killed me last time.”

  “It only almost killed you,” Trudy said.

  “Well, yes,” agreed Jack, “but what if it’s been practicing between now and then?” Trudy ignored him and Jack was compelled to follow his sleeve.

  What had been the school model farm had been almost completely decimated by the explosion and subsequent fire. Trudy was walking through the cinders, occasionally kicking at something that caught her eye.

  The large grain silo and red barn remained almost completely undamaged. Jack walked over to the grain silo, which looked like a cider jug that had been turned upside down. “What exactly is this?”

  “It’s a grain container. I’ve got an uncle with a farm and he has them.”

  “Well, what’s it for?” Jack asked.

  Trudy stared at Jack. “Containing grain,” she paused. “The clue’s kind of in the name.”

  “Well, sorry,” said Jack. “I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with agricultural life. But why do you think they’ve set it up here?”

  “I think they’re going to manufacture even more of Mr. M’s health-food bars. That’s what the grain’s for. There were commercials for them on TV last night. They’re trying to get the entire country eating them.”

  Jack scratched his head and wandered around the huge structure. It was an enormous container supported by three thick metal legs. The main body was twenty feet up in the air.

  Trudy stood back and looked at it. By the way Trudy was looking at the legs of the container, Jack knew she was sizing it up for climbing. She looked at it in the same way mountaineers look at Everest.

  Jack wandered under the structure itself and stood in the middle looking straight up. Right above his head was a large nozzle
that he assumed could be opened to allow the contents to pour out.

  “There must be enough inside that to make thousands of health-food bars,” he said quietly to himself. “I wouldn’t like to be standing here when…”

  There was a click and the nozzle opened, spraying out tons of corn kernels. He heard Trudy shout at him seconds before he was buried. Trudy threw herself on the ground and began digging furiously into the fifteen-foot-high pile.

  Jack’s head popped up out of the center of the pile. “What are you doing?”

  Trudy fell back, shocked. “I thought you were crushed! Dead!”

  Jack smiled and disappeared back under the corn for a minute. Then suddenly he exploded out like a dolphin leaping out of water. “Not dead, no.” He disappeared back under the sea of corn kernels. Two seconds later he appeared out of the corn right beside where Trudy was.

  “You should have been crushed!”

  “Thankfully not.” Jack stepped out of the pile entirely and began clearing some of the corn kernels out of his hair and pockets. “I imagine it was another attempt to kill me, but it was never going to work.”

  “But there must have been tons…”

  Jack nodded. “It would almost certainly have killed an adult, but I’m still a kid. And up until a few years ago my favorite part of the adventure playground was the ball pool. When the corn fell on me it was like being in the world’s biggest ball pool. The key is to move with the balls and not against them.” Jack dived back into the corn and frolicked about. “This is a lot of fun. Reminds me of being an eight-year-old again. I practically had a black belt in ball pools.”

  Trudy was staring into the distance.

  “Are you even paying attention to me?” Jack asked.