The Ministry of SUITs

by Paul Gamble

  In the middle of the entrance hall three older children were throwing a schoolbag through the air. It belonged to Edwyn Jones, a small, weedy kid from Jack’s class.

  “Guys, this isn’t funny,” squeaked Edwyn as the bag sailed over his head again, despite his best attempt to catch it.

  The three bullies seemed to think it was very funny and continued throwing the bag. Edwyn got bored of the whole process and moved to the side of the corridor to lean against the wall. One of the bullies went over to Edwyn and made a fist right in his face. “Listen, you little squirt: You jump, you pretend you want your bag back, or I’ll get my fun by pummeling you.”

  The argument was a persuasive one and Edwyn started jumping again as they threw the bag back and forth. However, his cries of “Give it back” and his leaps in the air seemed rather unenthusiastic.

  Jack turned to Trudy. “We should do something about this. And when I say we should do something about this, I mean you should do something about this.”

  “What?” asked Trudy.

  “Edwyn’s in my class. He isn’t a bad guy. I’ve seen you in action, Trudy. If you can take out a room of Porcupods, those bullies shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  Trudy sized up the bullies. “They wouldn’t be a problem. But that isn’t what the Ministry does. We deal with people who are plotting against the country. Kidnappers, murderers, thieves…”

  “Which are all just types of bullies. Look, what’s the point of being able to do what you can do, if you walk away from situations like this?”

  “Jack, if I start destroying bullies in the middle of the corridor, then it won’t be long before everyone knows about the Ministry. Telling David is one thing, but the whole school finding out? That’s different.”

  Jack knew that Trudy was right. “I just wish we could do something. I hate bullies.”

  Trudy let out a long sigh before speaking. “I’ve hit bullies before, but without using any of the Ministry skills.”

  Jack shook his head. “Without the Ministry skills you’d never be able to take out three bullies. And they all look like they’re from fourth year.”

  One of the bullies had grabbed Edwyn by the collar and pushed him up against the wall.

  “We have to do something,” Jack sighed. “Maybe together both of us could…”

  Before Jack finished his sentence something happened that surprised him. Considering everything that had happened the other night at the Ministry, Jack thought that he was pretty much surprise-proof at this stage. He was wrong. Quite badly wrong.

  Just as one of the bullies looked as though he was going to punch Edwyn in the face a figure appeared out of nowhere.

  “Stop and desist your nefarious activities, bullies!”

  Standing on the window ledge, with bright light streaming in from behind him, was what looked like a superhero. A bona fide superhero.

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  VAMPIRES

  CLOTHING CHOICES

  Many people wonder why Vampires wear black all the time. They wonder if it is a question of style.

  The real reason, of course, is simply that wearing black is a good tactical decision to make if you spend your life drinking blood from someone’s neck. Black doesn’t show the bloodstains. Additionally, since vampires don’t have reflections, it’s very hard for them to put together a really cool modern outfit. This is why in movies you see them wearing dinner suits so frequently. It’s a classic look that anyone can pull off.

  * * *

  19

  STATIC

  Jack squinted at the light shining in through the window and realized that it wasn’t really that much of a superhero at all. In fact, it was Dawkins from his class, standing on a window ledge, wearing two new school uniforms. The first he wore in a conventional way, blazer on his back, tie around his neck, both arms in the armholes of his shirt. But the second he had fashioned into a superhero costume. A very bad superhero costume, but a superhero costume nonetheless.

  A second white shirt was tied around his neck to give the impression of a cape. He’d also cut eye-holes in a second tie and tied it around his head like a mask to protect his secret identity. Like almost all superheroes ever, the mask did nothing to protect his identity whatsoever. He just looked like himself, but wearing a very small mask.

  The bullies stood amazed for a few moments before they spoke. Dawkins waited silently, posed heroically on the window ledge, hands on his hips.

  Eventually one of the bullies broke the silence. “What are you doing, you mentalist?”

  “Mentalist?” sneered Dawkins from his windowsill. “Supermentalist, you mean. No—wait a minute, not supermentalist. Superhero! Look upon me, bullies, and quake, for I am STATIC!”

  “He is very static—do you think he’s just going to stand posing on that windowsill all day?” Trudy whispered to Jack.

  Jack had no idea what Dawkins was going to do. At this stage Jack had very little idea what anyone was going to do anymore. It was as if the world had got up this morning and decided to go insane without telling anyone.

  The bully who had pinned Edwyn up against the wall decided that it would be more fun to bully the strangely dressed Dawkins. He pushed Edwyn to the ground. “We’ll be back to bully you some more later,” he told Edwyn. “So just stay there, but in the meantime we’re going to have some fun with the nutcase.”

  The three bullies closed in on the windowsill where Dawkins stood. Jack thought that now would be an ideal time for Dawkins to run, but he just stood there looking majestic. Or at least as majestic as you can look with a white shirt tied around your neck and looking out from behind a school tie with two ragged holes in it.

  Jack felt sorry for Dawkins. Apart from his slightly unusual dress sense he really wasn’t a bad guy.

  “We are going to kick you to bits,” one of the bullies said as they closed in.

  “HA!” yelled Dawkins. “Static laughs at bullies.”

  The bullies stopped. “Who is Static?”

  “I am Static,” yelled Dawkins.

  Jack whispered to Trudy, “Apparently Dawkins thinks he’s called Static now.”

  Trudy whispered back to Jack, “Yes, I also picked that up.”

  Static/Dawkins suddenly leapt from the windowsill. Jack thought he had probably meant to land heroically on the ground, but unfortunately Dawkins wasn’t the most agile of kids. He gave out a slight “Ouch” as he hit the carpet, stumbled, and then stood up.

  Static/Dawkins limped toward the bullies, still trying to look heroic. “This is your last chance, bullies. Cease your evildoing and run. Or face the wrath of Static.”

  The lead bully sneered. “Go on, then, let’s see your wrath.”

  Dawkins seemed to do a dance, shuffling his feet back and forth on the carpet. “You are going to regret this,” he said.

  The lead bully just laughed.

  Dawkins/Static finished his strange feet-shuffling dance and reached out with a hand. The bully watched Dawkins’s hand, thinking that it wasn’t moving fast enough to do any damage.

  Dawkins’s outstretched finger lined up with the bully’s nose. Unexpectedly a blue-electric flash jumped from Dawkins’s finger and cracked the bully on the nose. The bully jumped back with pain and let out a frightened yelp.

  “Feel the power of Static!” yelled Dawkins/Static. He was shuffling his feet back and forth again.

  “What was that?” yelped the bully.

  “Had enough?” asked Dawkins, his feet still moving.

  One of the bullies went to grab Dawkins by the front of his shirt. There was another small blue crack as he touched Dawkins. The bully fell backward, clutching his hand.

  Dawkins’s feet were still shuffling. “That’s the beauty of Static’s powers. I touch you and it hurts you. You touch me? It still hurts you. I am invulnerable!”

  “You’re insane!” said the third bully.

  Dawkins held out a hand. “Shake my hand and s
ay that!”

  The bully recoiled from Dawkins’s outstretched hand in fear. Dawkins’s feet were still shuffling and scuffling on the carpet.

  “I have ten shocking fingers here,” Dawkins said, stretching them out toward the bullies. “Who wishes to feel my power first?”

  The bullies looked at Dawkins for a second. “Let’s leave him be. It’s not worth it.”

  Jack and Trudy turned to look at each other, both of their mouths hanging open in astonishment. Realizing how stupid they must have looked, they clamped their jaws shut and turned back to Dawkins.

  “More enemies vanquished by the power of Static!” Dawkins/Static yelled triumphantly, punching the air as the bullies slunk away down the corridor.

  Dawkins held out his hand to help Edwyn up. When Edwyn touched it he flinched back in pain.

  “Whoops. Sorry about that, must still have a bit of a charge left over. It’ll wear off eventually.”

  Trudy and Jack walked over to Dawkins. Jack could tell that Trudy felt a bit put out. She’d finally decided to use her skills to help someone, and at the last moment had been upstaged by a nerd with a tie wrapped around his head.

  “What are you doing, you nutcase?” she asked.

  “Vanquishing evil. For I am the superhero Static.”

  Jack shook his head. “You are not the superhero Static. You’re Dawkins. Putting a tie around your eyes and using a shirt for a cape isn’t going to fool anyone.”

  “Oh. Well, yes, by day I am the mild-mannered Dawkins, popular classroom clown.…”

  “You aren’t that popular,” interjected Jack, but Dawkins ignored him and continued.

  “… But when I see injustice I transform into STATIC! The superhero with the power to control static electricity.”

  “Is that really all that was?” asked Trudy. “Static electricity?”

  Dawkins/Static nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s amazing. There’s something about these new uniforms. I mean I know polyester creates a static charge, but this stuff seems to create a huge static charge. And the carpet seems to be made of polyester as well.” Dawkins rubbed his feet furiously on the carpet. “So it’s really easy to build up a painful charge.”

  Dawkins demonstrated by putting a finger next to a door handle. A tiny blue electrical spark jumped from the tip of Dawkins’s finger.

  “The brilliant thing about it is that bullies can’t touch me even if they want to.”

  “Well they can’t touch you directly,” said Trudy, “but they could use wooden sticks to beat you. Wood doesn’t conduct electricity.”

  Dawkins clearly hadn’t thought of this. He looked worried, but after a few seconds he put on his best superhero face. “Static will still be triumphant. Watch for me in the skies.”

  “Are you claiming that you can fly now?” asked Jack.

  “Well, no … Okay then, watch for me in the corridors.”

  Jack and Trudy watched Dawkins limp down the corridor, his leg sore from when he had jumped off the windowsill. “Where are you going, Dawkins?”

  “Gym lockers,” said Dawkins. “I’m going to hide the cricket bats.”

  Dawkins walked out the door and at the moment he did so, the lights flickered briefly.

  Trudy looked astonished. “Now, if Dawkins did that, he is impressive!”

  Edwyn had recovered from his unfortunate shock. “Who was that masked man?” he asked.

  “Weren’t you listening? That was Dawkins. He’s a nutcase.”

  “He’s a hero!” exclaimed Edwyn. “He saved my life.”

  “At no stage was your life in danger. He is not a hero. Please don’t start going around and telling everyone that…”

  Edwyn cut Trudy off. “I’m going to tell everyone in the school that I was saved by Static. People will sing songs and write poems about him.”

  Edwyn ran off.

  “I really hope no one starts singing songs about this,” said Trudy.

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  SUPERHERO COSTUMES

  SECRET IDENTITIES

  Many superheroes protect their identities by wearing costumes under their everyday clothes. That means if they need to burst into action and save a life they have only to shed their regular clothes to be ready.

  However, this means that in the height of summer they will be forced to swelter with a layer of Lycra under their regular clothes. Therefore, if you’re sitting next to someone on the bus and they smell really, really sweaty there’s a fairly good chance they’re a superhero.

  If supervillains realized this, they would be able to track down their superhero enemies by hanging round the toiletries section of supermarkets and watching to see who bought the most antiperspirant.

  * * *

  20

  BEAKER OF FOAM

  Between break time and lunch Jack had double science. Some days it was interesting when you got to do experiments and create beakers full of foam. Some days it was dull, like when you had to write up notes and draw diagrams about experiments that had created beakers full of foam.

  It was rarely practical. Jack couldn’t imagine a situation in real life where it would be necessary to create a beaker full of foam except, of course, working in a coffeehouse. He was also slightly suspicious of scientists. Anytime they turned up in movies they were always putting together a device that would be used to destroy the world. Normally because they’d been bullied at school or picked on by work colleagues. As a member of the Ministry, Jack imagined this was exactly the sort of thing that he had to watch out for.

  Jack’s science teacher was an oldish man called Dr. Holmes. He had twinkling blue eyes and a dramatic thatch of blond hair. He looked more eccentric than evil. Jack decided that as he was now a Ministry Agent he should check that Dr. Holmes was not, in fact, an evil genius with a taste for world destruction.

  “Umm, sir?” Jack sidled up to Dr. Holmes.

  “Yes, boy, what is it?”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve ever suffered humiliating treatment at the hands of a bully that has made you hate the world?”

  Dr. Holmes considered this question for a minute. “I don’t think so. I’m sure if I had been humiliated in such a way I would have remembered.”

  “Umm, what about … have you ever had your heart broken so cruelly that it has left you dead inside? Left your insides burning with an ice that makes you insensible to the suffering of others? A suffering that could only be ended by the destruction of the world?”39

  Again Dr. Holmes carefully considered the question before answering. “I’ve certainly had my heart broken, but not that badly. It was broken by a girl when I was six years old. But later that day I was given a pedal car for my birthday and the heartache seemed to disappear.”

  Jack wondered how many of the world’s great villains could have been morally turned around if only someone had given them a pedal car at the right time. Would Hitler have still felt the need to invade Poland if only someone had given him a scooter? Would Osama bin Laden have turned out as bad if he had been presented with a red hula hoop?

  “So generally you haven’t been scarred by life?”

  “No,” said Dr. Holmes. “Not so badly. Life’s been pretty pleasant, I would say.”

  “Good,” said Jack, reasonably happy that Dr. Holmes would not turn out to be an evil scientist.

  Dr. Holmes turned away from Jack and let him get on with making his beaker of foam. “I don’t know,” Dr. Holmes mused to himself. “You pupils ask the funniest questions.” As he walked away he laughed in an almost maniacal way.

  “Maniacal laughter,” muttered Jack to himself. “Maybe he is an evil scientist after all.” Jack decided he would later check with Grey to see if there was a standard test for insanity in scientists.

  “What were you asking those questions for?” David had wandered over to Jack to see how he was getting on with the beaker of foam. David was always Jack’s lab partner. However, it was generally agreed that, consid
ering David’s clumsiness, he should always be kept far away from experiments involving volatile chemicals or flames.

  Jack decided that now was the time to tell David about the Ministry.

  “Sit down, David. I have something to tell you.”

  And so, while his classmates were completing their experiments, Jack explained to David about the secret elevator at the museum, the stone guardians, the insane Minister, the Porcupods, Trudy’s amazing skills, the squid-headed lord-of-filing Cthulhu, and all the other bizarre events that had taken place on Monday.

  For a few moments David just stared blankly at Jack. Then he spoke. “So what you’re telling me is that you have an after-school job?”

  Jack couldn’t believe how calmly David had taken it. “Haven’t you been listening to what I was saying? I’m working for the Ministry of Strange, Unusual, and Impossible Things.”

  “Yes,” David agreed. “You have an after-school job.”

  “But isn’t it amazing that all this strange stuff is going on in the world?”

  David shook his head. “I always kind of expected it. I mean, think about it. All the mad things that we’re meant to accept. Computers that can think a million thoughts at once, people on the bottom of the Earth that don’t fall off, huge metal tubes that can fly through the air. It’s all mad.”

  “But that’s just science.”

  “Explain how metal planes can fly. Or how metal boats can float.”

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t know.…”

  “You see,” said David triumphantly. “If you pay attention, everything in the world is very odd indeed.”

  “I … I suppose you’re right.”

  “Look, if you ever need any help with the Ministry stuff, I’m always here to lend a hand.”

  Jack smiled. “I could always ask them if you could join up.”

  “No, thanks!” David said. “I’ll help out if you need a hand, but I’ve already got an after-school job in my folks’ corner store. I don’t need two jobs. Especially when I could get killed in one of them.”