by Lauren Child
Stay, thought Ruby, for Pete’s sake, stay.
‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ said LB. ‘Would you give me and Redfort five minutes?’
‘Of course,’ said Hitch, stepping out.
Ruby had a strong desire to jump up and follow him. But she kept her face composed and herself in her seat.
LB waited for the door to close behind Hitch before addressing Ruby.
‘So you’re back, Redfort,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Ruby.
‘How was it?’
‘It was OK,’ said Ruby.
‘I hear you kept your head down and your nose clean.’
‘Yes,’ said Ruby.
LB peered at her from over her glasses.
‘What, no smart remark?’
Silence.
‘I’m beginning to wonder if they sent you to Swiss finishing school by mistake. I know I should be relieved, but it’s making me feel uneasy.’
Redfort, you’re acting weird, pull it together!
LB leaned forward. ‘Is there something wrong? Something you want to share?’
‘I’m not giving you half my donut if that’s what you’re getting at.’
‘That’s more like it. I thought for one horrible minute I was speaking with some Ruby Redfort doppelganger – I don’t know, Lorelei von Leyden in disguise, maybe.’
‘It would be a tough act to pull off,’ said Ruby. ‘I like to think that when they made me they broke the mould.’
‘So do I,’ said LB sourly. She cleared her throat. ‘As you might have heard, Spectrum 8 has handed much of its operations activity to Spectrum 1, just while we try to figure how far this contamination has reached, and which agent if any is responsible for leaking information to the Count.’
‘Right,’ said Ruby.
If LB was bluffing then she was a seriously cool customer. ‘A large number of our department have been suspended until we have clarity on this issue. Spectrum 7 agents will replace them until we have located our mole.’
‘So am I being suspended?’ asked Ruby. She paused, thought about where she had been. ‘Was I suspended? What I mean to say is, was geek camp really a way of getting me out of the picture? So you could check me out?’
‘Yes, but if it makes you feel better, we were as much concerned for your wellbeing as we were that you might in some way be leaking information.’
‘You thought I might be leaking information?’
‘You can see our point of view here, I’m sure. On the one hand, we were suspicious that the Count would keep you alive – we had to ask ourselves why –but on the other, we were concerned that he might change his mind. He doesn’t always abide by logic. And besides, his employer presumably still wants you dead, assuming that story is true, though when it comes to the Count one should never assume anything. Whatever else he is, he is predictably unpredictable.’
‘So now what?’ asked Ruby carefully. ‘Am I trusted employee or traitor?’
‘Quit being so dramatic, Redfort, you’re neither; no one ever thought you were a traitor – a blabbermouth perhaps, there was always a chance of that.’
Ruby opened her mouth to object, but LB raised her hand.
‘I never said you were, Redfort, I said there was a chance that you had brought this whole craziness to our door, but I concede that’s unlikely. There’s no evidence for it.’
Well, that was a relief.
Though what followed was not.
‘You, like every other agent in Spectrum 8, will be taken off duty. Eight is effectively closed to all lower-level agents. For all but vital access to our departments, permission must be given by a senior agent. My feeling was that your training should also be suspended until we have this security mess under control.
‘However,’ she paused and sighed, like what she was about to say was a great effort to her, ‘Hitch has persuaded HQ that it might be wise to keep up the survival skills. He seems to think you need all the protection you can get, and though you are no longer a functioning field agent or coding agent, after much consideration, I am persuaded he is right. We have a duty of care and I have to concede that it is our responsibility to protect you. As such, you will remain in Spectrum as a trainee agent. Under our careful supervision.’
Ruby tried to smile. ‘That’s good to know,’ she said.
A month ago, she’d have felt that LB’s office was the safest place on this earth. Now she couldn’t help feeling she was a fly, about to be swatted.
Problem was, she had no idea who was holding the swatter.
RUBY WAS JUST TRYING to figure out where Hitch might have got to when she spotted a note on the table in the waiting area.
Meet me in Froghorn’s coding room –
he will be expecting you.
She was surprised that he had arranged for them to meet there, and it was odd that Froghorn had agreed to it – with the exception of Blacker, Froghorn generally made it clear that no one was welcome in his coding room. Seeing him so soon after she had stepped back into Spectrum was an unpalatable idea, but then she remembered Clancy’s words – ‘talk to Froghorn, I bet you anything he’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, just to make you feel small.’ It was true, Froghorn couldn’t resist bragging about all the secrets he knew, and let’s face it, she thought, he loves nothing better than to drone on about the late great Bradley Baker.
All I gotta do is get him talking, that’s not so difficult.
Knowledge was her only weapon, the only superpower she really had. And if she was going to find out the truth about how Spectrum’s most revered agent met his end then Froghorn was her only option.
The door to his coding room was unlocked, so she was puzzled when she discovered it empty of people. Miles Froghorn was usually very careful about security. Ruby took the opportunity to have a snoop around and she found a lot of interesting things.
There were numerous files stacked neatly on tables, and code books marked with post-its and bookmarks, and notes carefully written in ink. There were several books on data transmission, particularly error-correcting codes that allowed computers to know whether there were mistakes in information they received. It was a subject that fascinated Ruby.
She flipped open a book.
Parity bits are one of the simplest systems for ensuring error-free transmission of binary data. Note though that as they indicate only whether the information contains an even or odd number of 1s or 0s, they are vulnerable to bits in the chain being swapped rather than lost, which is something they cannot …
She stopped reading when she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. She moved away from the table and listened, but whoever it was walked right on by. She continued to peruse Froghorn’s papers. There was a whole hand-written list of what must be ideas for locking devices: swipe card, iris lock, thumbprint, keypad, image lock, bolt key, 5 key, pressure key, voice key.
It rather looked like he had been working on some sort of multi-coded security system, because there was a diagram which was basically three squares arranged like an upside-down L, with letters and numbers marked at particular intervals, and to the side of each of the blocks: E1 E2 E3. In the middle of the third square he had written FC1 FC2 FC3. Next to these were six small pieces of coloured paper; each one was labelled with one of the sets of letters on the diagram, E1, E2, E3 etc., and on each paper was written a word or words, some crossed out, some replaced. E1, for example, said: MUSCA. E2: SWAT; E3: TRANSMISSION, F1: THE SPECTRUM. FC2 said: ROTOR MACHINE and then this was crossed out and had been replaced with CHROMATIC. FC3 was just a?
It looked as if he had been trying to figure out the best method of securing each part of a building, or series of rooms.
There was a beep on Ruby’s watch and she very nearly jumped out of her skin. A YELLOW FLY, meaning ATTENTION! A message flashed across the screen.
HUGE MISTAKE, I MEANT TO SAY MEET ME IN FROGHORN’S OFFICE! IF YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE MADE IT INTO HIS CODING ROOM THEN GET OUT!
PS MEET
ING CANCELLED.
Ruby did as instructed and got out of there quick, just in time as it turned out, because as she speed-walked along the corridor she ran into Froghorn coming the other way.
‘Oh, you’re back,’ he said slowly, drawing the words out as if he’d just found something unpleasant on the underside of his shoe.
‘Hey, Froghorn,’ she said, deliberately ignoring the silent G so the word ‘Frog’ sounded out very clearly. His irritation could not be missed.
‘What a shame, did kiddie camp not work out for you?’
‘Genius Camp, you mean?’ said Ruby. ‘Yes, that was fun, but you know what they say, too much fun can get you bored, so I guess it’s good to run into you.’
‘I thought it was going to be a bad day,’ said Froghorn. ‘Viridian days are always a total drag.’
‘What are you bleating on about – viridian days? Jeepers, Froghorn, maybe you need to leave the building for an hour or two.’
‘I would if there was anyone who could possibly handle my job, but since we lost Lopez we’ve had a tough job recruiting anyone with half a brain.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t bring up Bradley Baker again, you guys seem to think the sun shone out of him.’
‘The sun did shine out of him,’ said Froghorn. ‘That’s exactly it, he was a sun ray. And even though he’s dead and gone to grey he never was and never will be some pale imitation of an agent, some little girl living a little pastel-pink life.’
‘Boy, Froghorn, that’s a very colourful picture you paint. So if you’re saying Baker was sunshine yellow and I’m insipid pink – which, by the way, I take great exception to – then what are you? Potato-head beige?’
‘I’m someone authorised to be here, what are you? Some little girl who needs to go back to school?’ He checked his watch theatrically.
‘No one said that about Bradley Baker and wasn’t he just some little kid when he started out?’ said Ruby. Her comment had the desired effect.
‘Bradley Baker was never just some little kid. He was extraordinary, a talent the like of which we will never see again.’
‘What is it with you guys and Bradley Baker? I’ve yet to hear one actual thing which makes this bozo so different from anyone else.’
Froghorn stepped back like he’d been slapped. ‘What?’ he said.
RUBY: ‘You people talk about him like he’s some kinda super-agent, but he took orders same as you, same as me, same as every agent in this building.’
FROGHORN: ‘Baker took orders because it was his job to take orders. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of making his own decisions.’
RUBY: ‘So you’re saying he did make his own decisions?’
FROGHORN: ‘Of course he did, he was highly qualified, lived by his own rules.’
RUBY: ‘So he was a maverick, a renegade … took authority into his own hands, that sorta thing?’
FROGHORN: ‘No! That’s not what I’m saying, not at all! He never did anything to undermine the agency.’
RUBY: ‘I don’t get it, now you’re telling me he was a zip-it and toe-the-line type of a guy? Make your mind up, Froghorn, either he had guts and initiative or he was just another listen-up-and-do-as-you’re-told team player.’
FROGHORN: ‘The sheer magnitude of what you don’t know about Agent Baker’s guts and heroism would fill this atrium. Baker was an agent in a million.’
RUBY (YAWNING): ‘Yeah, right, so everyone keeps telling me, but it all sounds like a lot of hot air if you want my opinion.’
FROGHORN: ‘No one wants your opinion.’
RUBY: ‘Yeah, and why is that? I’m guessing because no one is tough enough to hear the truth.’
FROGHORN: ‘And what is that “truth”?’
RUBY: ‘Simply that there are other agents just as talented as him.’
Froghorn narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you actually suggesting that you are even close to being in the same league as Agent Baker?’
Ruby made a face to suggest, maybe she was. Froghorn’s reaction was as she’d hoped – very gabby. ‘Come with me,’ he said.
‘Where are we going?’ They were heading in the opposite direction now and Ruby had a job to keep pace with him. When he reached his office he opened the door and waved her in with an irritated gesture.
Her visits to this room were rare and usually very brief, so it wasn’t perhaps so surprising that she had never before noticed how everything was colour-coded, and not just in a Spectrum way, but in a Froghorn way. His calendar for instance: Mondays green, viridian green, Tuesdays yellow. December dark blue.
Froghorn looked like he was wearing a brand-new suit. It was ever so slightly shiny and he had a new shiny steel pen to match; it was attached to a silver cord which hung around his neck. Who does that? she thought. Who actually wears a pen? OK, Mrs Drisco does, but she’s Mrs Drisco, what else would you expect? But this guy should know better. Boy, is he ever a potato head.
FROGHORN: ‘You think that cracking a five-way-thought code which led us to prevent the leaking of secret government dossiers isn’t of value?’
RUBY: ‘Of course it’s of value, I’m just saying, is it remarkable? I mean he was a code cracker, right, so wouldn’t that be all in a day’s work to someone of his agent rank?’
FROGHORN: ‘So how about confronting the Count when he was a junior agent, getting up close and personal with this monster and living to tell the tale? He was the first Spectrum agent to walk away with his life.’
RUBY: ‘What, you mean like I did?’ She studied her nails. ‘More than once actually.’
FROGHORN: ‘You got lucky, little girl, hardly heroic. Baker was captured by the Count and rescued by the Spectrum special agent squad.’
RUBY: ‘I rescued myself, surely that counts for something.’
FROGHORN: ‘State of the art Spectrum gadgets are what allowed you to escape.’
RUBY: ‘Isn’t that how Baker got himself out of trouble a whole bunch of times? I’m sure he would have been toast without the Escape Watch.’
FROGHORN: ‘He was issued with them; you took them without permission.’
RUBY: ‘So that’s the difference between being a hero and not being a hero – a signature on a slip of paper?’
FROGHORN: ‘If you want to be a Spectrum agent then you have to behave like one.’
Ruby had quite a few things she wouldn’t have minded saying in reply to this patronising remark, but was aware that it might not serve her well to get Froghorn so mad that he slammed the door in her face.
RUBY: ‘So name an occasion where Baker actually went above and beyond his job description.’
FROGHORN: ‘You think that leaping from an aircraft without a Spectrum aero-pack in order to save a fellow agent from certain death doesn’t make him a hero?’
RUBY: ‘Can I ask, was the plane moving at the time?’
FROGHORN: ‘Try fourteen thousand feet. And it wasn’t a regular plane.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Froghorn, I mean, is jumping without a parachute really such a big deal?’
FROGHORN: ‘You should try it sometime.’
RUBY: ‘Maybe I will.’
FROGHORN: ‘I’d be thrilled to arrange it.’
RUBY: ‘If there was actually any evidence that Baker had actually done it then I would be only too happy to give it a try.’
FROGHORN: ‘You should read the files; what’s contained in them would make your head spin.’
RUBY: ‘Oh, so there are files?’
FROGHORN: ‘Of course there are files!’
RUBY: ‘OK, so I’ll read them.’
FROGHORN: ‘You don’t have authority to read files, least of all the Ghost Files.’
RUBY: ‘Ghost Files?’
Silence.
RUBY: ‘Oh, come on, Froghorn, you’re making this up. Ghost Files? I mean Spectrum’s not gonna use a dumb name like that.’
FROGHORN: ‘You know so little of Spectrum. You arrive here thinking you’re some kind of wond
er-child, but you’re not even a shadow of Agent Baker.’
RUBY: ‘Show me the files and I’ll devote some minutes to reading them.’
FROGHORN: ‘It would take you more than a few hours to read a list of his achievements.’
RUBY: ‘So point me in the right direction and I’ll get started.’
FROGHORN: ‘Why would I ever tell you where the Prism Vault is?’
RUBY: ‘Why would you, when you don’t know?’
FROGHORN: ‘Of course I know. I’ve just this week completed the task of updating the code lock system.’
So that’s what he’s up to.
But what she said was, ‘So where is it?’
FROGHORN: ‘Like I’d ever tell you.’
RUBY: ‘You should, it might help me understand this little love-in Spectrum has with old Bradley.’
FROGHORN: ‘If you ever see the inside of that place then I’ll eat my hat.’
RUBY: ‘Really? I’ll work on it then, I’ve always wanted to see someone eat their hat.’
FROGHORN: ‘I’m sure one of your kindergarten friends would oblige – little kids are always eating things they shouldn’t.’
RUBY: ‘You not concerned that someone might crack your new vault codes?’
‘No, little girl.’
‘No, and why’s that?’
‘Because first you’d have to understand what code you are dealing with and that’s something you aren’t ever going to know.’
‘Even if you made it there,’ continued Froghorn. ‘Even if you figured out the location, you would still require permission to get inside, and we both know that’s never going to happen, or you would need to get hold of a Superskin.’
‘What’s a Superskin?’ asked Ruby.
‘Exactly,’ said Froghorn. ‘Then you would need to hold your breath for at least three minutes and we both know you have no talent for that, am I right?’
Boy, is this guy’s colour potato-head beige.
‘Even if you punched in the correct door code and got inside the vault, even if you did all that, just how many layers of files could you reach? One? Two?’
