Great, thought Max. Why does everything in this place have to be so complicated?
Max, Linden and Steinberger stared at the wall in front of them. After a few seconds, everything happened just as they were told, except that when the wall oozed out and wrapped itself around them, it felt like warm, sticky custard. It squelched all over them and within a few seconds, Steinberger was sucked into the squishy structure in one quick slurp.
Linden’s eyes widened like they’d suddenly doubled in size.
‘Wow! Did you see that?’ he gasped, finding it hard to speak while the wall kneaded him like a ball of human dough.
‘Despite the fact that I’m being mauled by a half-crazed wall, I can still see, you know,’ Max retorted.
And then, just as the words were out of her mouth, Linden also disappeared in a guzzling splurt.
As the gooey body search continued, Max was definitely running out of the tiny scrap of patience she had left.
‘Look, Wall. Let me save you the trouble. I’m good, okay? So can I just go in now?’
The Wall of Goodness seemed to be having trouble deciding whether to let Max pass. It made choking, gurgling noises and jostled her around even more so that the massage became more like the spin cycle of a washing machine.
Max started to worry that she wasn’t going to get through.
‘Come … on … Wall. Pl … ease?’ she wobbled.
After one final heaving lurch, the wall totally enveloped her and she was gone, reforming its atoms and leaving nothing more than a solid stone structure that looked impenetrable.
‘Whaaa!’ exclaimed Max as she was thrust head first out the other side of the Wall of Goodness into a gaping tangle of lush fern leaves.
‘Congratulations!’ Steinberger exclaimed to her awkwardly positioned backside sticking out of the fern. ‘You made it. It’s one of the toughest tests within Spyforce. You don’t have to be truly evil to be denied entry. The wall will even stop people simply for not having the best interests of the agency at heart. Anyway, how was it?’
Max weeded herself out of the clinging fronds to see Linden’s and Steinberger’s eyes lit up like fireworks on New Year’s Eve.
Only she hadn’t been invited to the party.
She was furious.
‘How was it?’ The way she asked the question, Linden knew her answer wasn’t going to be pretty. ‘I was just mauled by an arrogant wall that slobbered all over me like elephant’s drool and treated me as though I was a leftover piece of modelling clay. And when it’d finally had enough of me it vomited me out face first into this pile of nature clutter.’
Steinberger was disappointed that Max didn’t seem to have enjoyed her experience.
‘You did unfortunately have a rather bumpy landing,’ he apologised. ‘Most people come out of it a little more gently than you did. In fact, that’s the first time I’ve seen anyone have such a rough landing.’
Max plucked greenery from her hair and dropped it to the floor.
‘Max has many talents, Mr Steinberger, but gentle landings isn’t one of them.’ Linden’s explanation failed to amuse Max and earned him one her well-measured glares.
‘Thanks, Mr Hilarious. The world has just become a better place now that it can add that joke to its list.’
‘I assure you both, that is the last of our identification procedures,’ Steinberger promised. ‘If you’d like to make your way through the green aisle in front of us we will meet our next important Spyforce agent.’
They were in a multi-level greenhouse where there seemed to be almost every different kind of plant in the world. There were weeping willows, oaks, eucalypts, jacarandas, fruit trees, flowers of all kinds, multicoloured algae, mosses and funguses splattered on rocks and cliffs, cactuses in special desert areas, palms, shrubs, bulbs, grasses, vines and waterlilies.
Max strode ahead at Steinberger’s invitation, careful not to trip over any vines or roots that might be lying in front of her.
‘Don’t worry about her.’ Linden leant into Steinberger. ‘She really is a nice person. It just doesn’t come as naturally to her as it does to other people.’
Linden smiled a sweeping grin before he and Steinberger made their way down the palm-strewn pathway.
Among all the greenery were white-coated people beavering away like termites building a vast natural city. They were spraying, weeding, pruning, clipping and watering. They were leaning over boiling pots, crushing roots, extracting oils and dissecting delicate flower stems. Some were even standing on small white platforms hovering like dragonflies at the tops of the tallest trees.
In the middle of the greenhouse was a woman in a long red coat with her hair dressed up on her head like a overloaded beehive. Small flying bugs could be seen zooming in and out of the swaying mass of hair like they’d made their home there. She had little round glasses shaped like roses and a chain hanging from them that looked like red and yellow ladybugs.
When Max and Linden reached the woman, Steinberger was nowhere in sight.
‘You must be our two guests.’ She smiled widely. ‘My name is Dr Frond. I’m in charge of the Plantorium here at Spyforce. Have you come here alone?’
Almost in answer to her question, a splash was heard somewhere behind them.
‘Steinberger’s here, isn’t he?’ asked Frond. ‘Quick, grab that rope will you?’
Linden reached behind him and took a rope that was hanging beneath Frond’s workbench. Both he and Max followed her as she wove effortlessly through an intricate maze of plants, her red coat swishing behind her like a red light on a rescue truck.
‘The Japanese pond. I thought so,’ said Frond as they stood in front of a rich turquoise pool teaming with giant goldfish. She took the rope from Linden and threw it to a waterlogged Steinberger.
‘Ah … Frond,’ he managed soggily, once he’d been hauled out of the water. ‘How lovely to, ah, see you. Um, nice day outside.’
He had a lily pad perched on his head, a string of reeds dangling from his left ear and a flustered and peeved-looking goldfish poking out of his top pocket.
Max and Linden wondered when it was that the normally calm and collected Steinberger had been replaced with the bungling, stammering idiot standing in front of them.
‘I think you’ll find it’s been raining,’ Frond replied to Steinberger’s misguided weather report. She gently rescued the fish from his pocket and returned it to the pond. It gave what Max thought was a scowl before it flipped around and swam away.
Then something happened that twisted the puzzled expressions on Max’s and Linden’s faces even further.
Steinberger was lost for words.
He had nothing to say.
They could see the normally free-flowing words getting stuck somewhere between his throat and his blushing red face, which screwed up like he’d been given some horrible stew he was being forced to eat and was threatening to go down the wrong way.
Linden thought he’d save the situation from becoming even more awkward than it already was.
‘What happens in the Plantorium?’
There was an almost audible sigh of relief from everyone, especially Max, who thought if she had to deal with any more of Steinberger’s gooey-eyed mush, her brain would come screaming out of her head in protest.
‘This is where we make the serums, potions, powders, creams, lotions, pills and ointments that are used in Spyforce operations. We use only natural and plant-based ingredients to make our products, and of course, we never test them on animals. We here at Spyforce believe that animals are human too and plants can do as much as chemicals when it comes to fighting crime. And let’s face it, we’re not in the twentieth century anymore. If you don’t have a green beating heart, you’re behind the times.’
‘What kinds of products do you make?’ queried Max, thinking the Plantorium sounded more like a cosmetic factory than the important arm of a major spy agency.
‘Come and I’ll show you. Do we have time, Steinberger?’
>
Silence.
Max and Linden turned around to see him staring at Frond like someone had sucked the insides out of his head and turned him into a zombie.
‘Well?’ Max’s patience was really being given a good workout. ‘Do we have time?’
‘Time?’
Glazed eyes. Lilting mouth. Steinberger had it bad.
‘Time to see what Dr Frond has to show us?’
‘There’s always time for Dr Frond,’ he sprouted, and a great slooshing smile swung onto his cheeks.
Max and Linden continued to stare at him.
Steinberger noticed their staring and looked sharply down at his watch.
‘I mean, yes, there is a little time before we have to move on,’ he said more seriously.
‘Good. Follow me.’ Frond swished her red coat around her and eagerly scurried through the trees.
At one corner of the Plantorium, across a thick patch of woolly butt grass (it’s actually called that) and through a heavily flowered wall of mimosa bush, was a frosted glass door. Frond opened the mossy hatch on a small algae-covered panel and pressed in a secret code. The door clicked open and allowed them all inside to what looked like a giant pharmacy. There were long gleaming white shelves that ran so high it was hard to see where they ended and the ceiling began. They stretched far back into the room like rows of schoolkids during an assembly, and nestled on each one were all sizes and shapes of bottles, tubes, jars, containers, boxes and tins.
‘We call this room the Secret Library for Ointments, Powders and Plant Products, or SLOPPP for short.’
Frond stepped up to one of the shelves and took down a small glass jar.
‘This is invisible cream,’ she announced like she was holding a precious stone. ‘With just a thin layer of this cream applied to the skin, a person will become completely invisible. Some scientific theory dates the origin of the cream back to the thinkings of the ancient Egyptians. Why, there is a group of historians who believe invisibility creams had been in use in the ancient world for hundreds of years.’
Max and Linden were impressed.
‘Try some,’ she offered, but seeing their hesitation, Frond asked Steinberger if he wouldn’t mind volunteering.
He managed to take a small step forward but failed miserably in trying to get his mouth to work. He flinched slightly as she took his hand and winced when a low giggle escaped from his lips.
‘This is very powerful stuff.’ She took a small swipe of the dark green cream and rubbed it into Steinberger’s hand. ‘It can even be watered down and applied as a rinse if you need to become invisible in a hurry. All you need is the smallest amount, and there you have it.’
It was hard to tell if Steinberger was enjoying the experience or was about to pass out at any second, but what was easy to see, or rather not to see, was his disappearing hand.
The invisibility cream worked!
‘And here …’ gasped Frond as she stretched for a jar almost out of her reach, ‘… is the antidote. Just a little of this and all will return to normal.’
Steinberger quivered as Frond’s fingers dipped into the blue-black antidote and were coming straight for him. Little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead like balls of fluff on woollen socks.
‘Done.’ She finished applying the cream and, like a wave pulling away from the beach, Steinberger’s hand reappeared. ‘And that’s just one of the many products we’ve developed here at the Plantorium. There are many more but I’m sure you have to be on your way. Harrison doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’
‘Dr Frond?’ asked Max, picking up a bottle of purple liquid near her labelled ‘Stun Perfume No 5’. ‘What is the story with the labels?’
Pasted across the front of all the items on SLOPPP’s shelves were green and gold labels that read ‘Plantorium Health Co’, and beneath that was the slogan ‘Your health is our business. (A Kind to Trees initiative.)’
‘This is one of the commercial sides of the Force,’ explained Frond. ‘While experimenting with plants we have come up with an array of natural products that have many benefits in everyday life. Wrinkle creams, anti-sag ointments, buttocks-firming lotions. That last one in particular is very popular and is one of Spyforce’s biggest sellers. As long as there are sagging bottoms and wrinkled brows, we’ll be in business for a long time. It costs a lot of money to run a spy agency and in these days of budget cuts and strict cost-cutting measures, we have to do all we can to stay in business.’
Max was perplexed.
‘So it’s not good enough just to try and find bad guys and make the world a better place?’
‘In the old days. And in the movies, of course. But saving the world is an expensive business and we’ve got to earn our keep. This is our way of doing just that.’
Beep, beep, beep, beep!
Everyone looked down at Steinberger’s pocket, which seemed to be beeping. Everyone except Steinberger, of course, who was busy trying to remember how to breathe and listen to Frond at the same time.
Frond offered a crooked smile. ‘That’ll be Harrison, I expect.’
At the mention of Harrison, Steinberger’s eyes snapped wide open. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his beeper, and after removing some green slime from the screen he’d picked up from the pond, read the message.
‘So it is. Well, must be off. It’s time to find out the real reason you’ve been asked to Spyforce.’
Steinberger stood in front of Frond and fretted over how to say goodbye. Suddenly he felt like every inch of him was on show and that any part of him could embarrass him terribly at any moment. He smiled painfully, then found he had the hiccups. He wiped sweat beads from his brow that were forming so fast they were like ants that’d found a picnic. Finally, he held out his hand, but as he did so Frond lifted hers to wave goodbye. They both laughed awkwardly. Then as Frond lowered her hand Steinberger raised his. They laughed again and lowered both their hands, at which point Steinberger dropped his pencil. As he bent down to pick it up, so did Frond, and their heads collided in a thudding bump.
Max was hoping this was going to be over soon before someone got really hurt.
‘Bye,’ Steinberger muttered to Frond. Rubbing his brow, he turned sharply and collided with one of the shelves sending Plantorium products cascading domino-style into a pile of all-natural mess.
He apologised to Frond and offered to clean up but Frond refused, saying it would be better if they were off.
Steinberger managed a muffled ‘thank you’ and turned to leave the SLOPPP followed by Linden and Max.
‘Good thing love doesn’t make everyone this clumsy or hospitals would be filled with bleeding hearts and love-sick fracture cases,’ said Linden.
‘Better off without it at all,’ complained Max, watching Steinberger trap his finger in the door and wondering how he’d got this far in life. ‘For now, though, we’ve got to worry about what Harrison wants.’
Steinberger’s injuries quickly faded from Max’s and Linden’s minds as their thoughts focused on the next few moments in front of them, which were going to put them directly in the middle of possibly the most important meeting of their lives.
Max steeled herself.
I’m ready, she thought. Spyforce, here I come.
Max and Linden followed a squelching Steinberger into the secret elevator that would plunge them through many levels to Harrison’s hidden office buried deep within the subterranean bowels of Spyforce. It was a secret elevator because not many people knew about it in the Force, and therefore the world, but also because it was concealed in a series of terracotta pots as big as phone boxes. Harrison had a real delight for terracotta pots, Steinberger had told them. Not all elevators were pots and not all pots were elevators, though, he went on to say, but a simple tap to the side of a pot to test if it was hollow would soon let you know.
Their terracotta elevator descended through the many secret levels of Spyforce as a back-tonormal Steinberger chatted on as he would have done in pre
-Frond times.
When it came to a stop, a female voice melodiously hoped that they’d had an enjoyable journey and wished them a pleasant stay. Ducking their heads, they made their way out of the potplanted conveyor to Harrison’s floor, leaving the elevator to slip off behind them. Max flicked a clump of dirt from her shoulder and Linden picked a worm from his jumper and returned it to the soil as they took in their surroundings. They were in a plush and opulent foyer full of dark wooden tables and chairs that stood against the walls, reminding Max of starched waiters waiting for instructions. Lining the walls like a stiff-chinned guard of honour was a line of darkened paintings of suited men and women. They were like old portraits of queens, nobles and rich merchant’s daughters, except that all these people had their faces blurred by a coloured, misty fog, like when someone’s on the news they don’t want you to see so they smudge their faces. And at the bottom of each painting were gold plaques with a series of numbers and letters.
‘These are paintings of the most accomplished agents who have ever been at Spyforce,’ Steinberger intoned like he was leading a tour of Buckingham Palace. ‘It’s our very own Hall of Fame. Of course we can’t show their faces. If any of these agents were to be seen by the wrong eyes, there would be ghastly consequences.’
Max looked at the blurred faces as she followed Steinberger who was recounting tales of brave agents and their missions. She stopped in front of one of the paintings.
‘Linden?’ she said softly. ‘Does this remind you of anybody?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied seriously. ‘But I was in a snowstorm at the time so I can’t be too sure it’s them.’
He smiled broadly.
Spyforce Revealed Page 9
