Spyforce Revealed

by Deborah Abela

  After a cramped ride in another terracotta pot, Max, Linden, Ella and Steinberger arrived at Quimby’s lab ready to be equipped for Mission Blue’s Foods.

  ‘This is a very special part of the Force. It’s the birthplace of many of the inventions that are created here at Spyforce and is run by perhaps one of the most brilliant scientists in this country, maybe the world. Why there’s even …’

  Steinberger was cut off by the sudden appearance of Dretch stealing out of the lab. ‘Ah, Dretch. Good to see you again. Doing a little maintenance work?’

  Dretch flinched and spun round, offering the three new spies a prickly stare like they’d just run over his favourite pet. With one eye poking out from behind his craggy fringe, they each felt an icecold tingle run down their spines that made them want to reach for a long warm coat to stop their blood from freezing over.

  ‘Urrrrr,’ urred Dretch as he skulked away, his sagging maroon coat only just managing to cling to his hunched shoulders.

  ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame stands a good chance of losing his job as long as that guy’s around,’ Ella shivered, still trying to shake the icy chill.

  ‘Yeah and if the Hunchback was ever hard up on cash he could earn a few dollars giving Dretch a few beauty tips.’ Linden rubbed his shoulders, trying to get some warmth back into them.

  Just then, Delilah burst out from behind the lab door and screeched past Max’s nose before landing expertly on all four paws and rushing after her owner.

  Max wasn’t feeling so comical about Dretch’s bad attitude or his cat’s sudden appearance. She needed to know more.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she demanded of Steinberger.

  ‘Dretch? Nothing. He’s just got a different way of looking at the world from most people.’ And then he baulked like he was trying to work out how to say the next part. ‘Sometimes when things go wrong it can leave people quite … changed.’

  ‘Did something bad happen to him when he was a spy?’

  ‘Let’s just say there’s a kind and good man hidden beneath that somewhat rough exterior.’

  ‘Any more rough an exterior and he could double as barbed wire,’ mumbled Linden.

  Max wasn’t going to let Steinberger off so easily. ‘But what did he mean when he said others like us have come before and have never been seen again?’

  ‘He said that?’

  ‘Yes. Outside the VART.’

  ‘He has an unusual sense of humour not many of us share. Trust me. He’d never mean that.’

  Steinberger turned away, eager to end the conversation and knocked on the door of the lab.

  ‘Come in,’ a small disembodied voice moused from within.

  Steinberger led the way inside but Max wasn’t satisfied. That was the second time they’d seen Dretch and something told her he may not have been in the lab for Spyforce business alone. And how come he was in there just as they were about to receive their spy packs? He’d made it clear he didn’t want them around and maybe he was planning something to get rid of them sooner. She made a note to keep an eye on Dretch and was determined to find out what it was Steinberger wasn’t saying about him.

  The lab was a shining maze of chrome benches, transistors, resistors, circuit boards, cords, wires, diodes and electrical gadgets that ticked, flicked and whirred. There were cupboards with glass doors toppling over with jars, tubes and bottles. There were fridges, burners, beakers, soldering irons, clamps, safety masks and an enormous fish tank with seaweed, a little stone castle and a small tropical fish called Fish.

  ‘Team.’ Steinberger referred to them now as ‘Team’. ‘Meet Professor Quimby, the head inventor of Spyforce. She’s a professor of physics, astrophysics, chemistry, robotics and holds the trophy for Spyforce bowling champion three years in a row.’

  Quimby looked embarrassed.

  ‘A few lucky strikes, that’s all.’

  She looked away and buried her burning red face in the long wisps of dark hair that fell around her head like a shower curtain. A bright pink scarf tied in a knot at the back of her head struggled to hold the rest of it in some kind of order. She wore a long yellow coat over baggy dark blue trousers and red and white striped trainers.

  ‘Before each Spyforce mission, our agents are supplied with packs that have been specially equipped for their particular assignment. It’s up to Quimby and the lab staff to read the mission specifications and decide what you may need. They’re experts at this and have never been wrong yet. Quimby?’

  The scientist’s head shot up like she’d just heard a loud bang.

  ‘Would you like to take our new recruits through their packs?’

  Quimby pushed another snaking piece of hair out of her face with her latex-gloved fingers. In front of her were three backpacks of differing designs and colours.

  ‘We don’t have much time. We’ve been preparing for this mission for weeks and now that it’s happening, we’ve no time to lose. These may look like ordinary bags but they are in fact bottomless. No matter how much you put in them, they will never be full and never heavier than five kilograms. Also, if you open the pack completely, it can be spread out so far it can be used it as a coat, a piece of camouflage — it is colour sensitive so that it instantly blends in with your surroundings — or with these strings, even a parachute. It also has a special locking device that is sensitive to your fingerprints. The instant you touch it, the bag will recognise your prints and open only for you.’

  She held out a booklet called 1001 Uses for a Super Pack. ‘All the possible uses and functions of the bag are spelt out in this.’

  She undid the zipper around one of the packs and opened the front cover to reveal what was inside and picked up a matchbox-sized device that looked like a miniature TV.

  ‘This is a Substance Analyser Meter, or SAM. It can identify almost any known substance in existence. All you need to do is hold the top end of the SAM to the substance you wish to identify and within seconds a reading of all the components of that substance will appear on this screen along with their level of toxicity or danger.’

  ‘Better not put it near one of your jokes or the thing will explode,’ Linden whispered in Max’s ear. Max opened her mouth to shoot off a reply but when she heard the tittering of Ella nearby, she pursed her lips so tightly they resembled the rear end of an uptight cat.

  ‘And this,’ continued Quimby, blowing an unruly piece of hair from her mouth, ‘is a Danger Meter. In the presence of danger, it emits an electronic pulse. The stronger the vibrations, the more dangerous the situation. It’s best to wear this inside your clothes, so when there’s danger nearby, you’ll know it instantly.’

  She then picked up a circular metallic disc and held it carefully in her hand.

  ‘This precious thing moves objects from a distance. Just point the channelling beam at the object you’d like to move and control the movement of the object with this miniature joystick. It’s called the RHINO, or the Remote Hauling Infra-nice Operator.’

  ‘Infra-nice?’ Ella queried.

  ‘Yeff,’ murmured Quimby as her scarf finally failed to hold back her wild hair and fell over her face. ‘We decided we liked the name RHINO and we couldn’t think of another suitable word that started with N.’

  The professor then handed them each a watch and asked them to put them on.

  Linden’s was a transparent ice-blue colour that showed the components working inside. Ella’s was silver with a fliptop cover that revealed a red metallic watchface, while Max’s was bright pink with a picture of a pony behind two sparkling watch hands.

  ‘Pink?’ she asked in disgust. ‘I can’t wear pink. And what’s with the pony?’

  ‘These are walkie-talkie watches,’ said Quimby timidly.

  ‘I’m sure they are,’ Max agreed firmly. ‘But I can’t be seen anywhere wearing this. I’ll have to have a different one.’

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t,’ Quimby reasoned. ‘Each watch has been specially made for each of you and adjusted to a certa
in frequency that is suited only to the allocated wearer.’

  Max knew she couldn’t argue against that and wanted to get on with the mission.

  ‘Okay. I’ll wear the stupid watch. How do they work?’

  ‘Simply adjust the frequency to the person you wish to speak to and press the side button to begin talking. Max, your frequency is one, Linden on two and Ella, you’re on three.’

  Quimby reached for another gadget.

  ‘This laser gun cuts through solid metal, this cupcake bomb lets off a silent wall of tear gas and the truth gum makes the chewer speak nothing but the truth. Everything you have in your packs has been personally checked by me and is in full working order,’ she finished proudly.

  ‘What do these lollipops do?’ asked Linden.

  ‘Nothing. They’re just lollipops. A lot of agents have a sweet tooth so we throw them in as a treat. There are pens and notepads too that are also just pens and notepads. And these,’ said Quimby reaching for three covered coat hangers on a rack nearby, ‘are your disguises.’

  Max, Ella and Linden took their hangers as the sound of zippers being unzipped circled around the lab.

  Quimby continued. ‘From now on you’ll be known as Cynthia, Jeremy and Angelina.’

  Max’s face screwed into a crunched-up mess as she held out a pink ribboned dress and long blonde wig.

  ‘Don’t tell me. I’m Cynthia.’

  Ella held out a baggy pair of trousers and a bright T-shirt. ‘Which I guess makes me Angelina.’

  Linden sifted through his bag to find a pair of trainers, dark denim jeans and a sports shirt and cap. ‘Hello there Jeremy.’

  Max looked at both of them smiling smugly with their new identities. Of course they’d be happy, she thought, since the whole concept of fashion had managed to pass them by their entire lives. The watch was one thing but she wasn’t going to take the rest of it lying down.

  ‘I don’t want to be Cynthia.’

  ‘Max, it’s just for the mission. Happens all the time in the business.’ Suddenly Linden was an authority.

  ‘Okay, Mr Expert. You be Cynthia.’

  ‘I’m a boy.’

  ‘I’ll be Cynthia,’ Ella volunteered.

  Of course, Max thought. Little Miss Perfect once again acts all nice.

  ‘I don’t want to be Angelina either,’ said Max, not willing to let Ella win.

  All four of them stared at Max.

  ‘After the mission, you’ll go back to being Max,’ Quimby assured her. ‘But for now your identities are fixed.’

  Just then Frond billowed through the door, her coat trailing behind her in a red swirling whoosh and her beehive hairdo half-collapsed like a mini Leaning Tower of Pisa. Steinberger’s face drained of colour so much he almost disappeared in the white glowing lab except for the beads of sweat that again began dappling his nervous brow.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. I got caught up with an oversized Venus Flytrap who mistook me for lunch. My fault. Should have remembered it was feeding time.’

  Frond’s coat pocket was torn and her sleeve seemed covered in some kind of milky-coloured goo. In a blurred daze, Steinberger lifted her hand which had a few scratch marks and a tiny trickle of blood. He wiped it against his jacket in a smooth, slow gesture but when he realised his hand was holding hers, he let it go instantly and looked very much like he was going to faint.

  ‘I think I might wait outside,’ he stammered, trying to work out how to make his feet walk towards the door and tripping over them in the process.

  Frond was unphased as she lifted a small cotton pouch onto Quimby’s desk.

  ‘I’ve brought a few Plantorium goodies that may come in handy, like this sneeze powder. It makes people sneeze continuously and, as you know, it’s impossible to sneeze and keep your eyes open at the same time. Just throw a little at the person you wish to distract. Great for when you need to make a quick getaway. I’ve also included a stink bomb for those times when you need to clear a room fast or just leave a nasty surprise for someone evil. You’ll find a face mask in there as well to save you from the bomb’s smelly wares and there are a few nature bars from Irene in case you get hungry. Packed full of fruit, vitamins and minerals.’

  Then she stopped and smiled proudly. ‘Good luck, and may the Force be with you.’

  Max, Linden and Ella were shown to a series of change rooms nearby where they put on their new outfits. Linden and Ella looked up when Max came out, but before they had a chance to say anything, she stopped them.

  ‘Not one word, okay. Not a smirk, not a giggle. Nothing.’

  She led the way, walking a little uneasily in her patent leather shoes and dress that looked like a giant pink marshmallow. She grabbed her pack, said goodbye and headed out of the lab where they found a calmer and more colourful Steinberger, happy to see the disguises working so well.

  ‘You look …’ he began.

  ‘Um, it’s best not to mention it actually,’ warned Linden.

  ‘Right. To the Vehicular All-Response Tower,’ he commanded, like he was leading some kind of cavalry in battle.

  After another ride in a terracotta pot that took them on a short cut to the VART, Steinberger stood in front of them on the long metal deck as the lights above them swayed gently in the breeze. Sleek, dressed in brown leather goggles, a cap and a long, scuffed coat like he was some Second World War fighter pilot, warmed up the engine on the Sleek Machine below. Max, Linden and Ella stood ready for their journey, thick-lensed goggles hanging around their necks.

  ‘Good luck, team.’

  Steinberger handed them their BRATT authorisation badges and papers as well as a London A-Z each. He also gave them some money and three rather large hankies.

  ‘My grandma always used to say, wherever you go you’ll never be lost if you have a hanky and she hasn’t been wrong yet.’

  He was sounding a little choked up and tears moistened the corners of his eyes. Max took her hanky and hoped he wasn’t going to cry. She hated anyone bawling in front of her. It made her feel annoyingly embarrassed and curious as to why people didn’t save their tears until they were somewhere other people didn’t have to witness them. Especially her.

  Sleek made the final adjustments on his machine and wondered what the hold-up was.

  ‘Remember, use your watches to stay in close contact and make sure each other is safe at all times.’

  Sleek revved the machine and eyed Steinberger through his goggles, wanting him to get a move on.

  ‘And this is my private line. In case you get into any trouble. Which you won’t. I’m sure of it. It’s just that —’

  The horn blasted from the Sleek Machine as Ella took the slip of paper with Steinberger’s number and put it in her pocket.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Good luck,’ he sniffed as Linden and Ella climbed on the back of the motorbike-like machine and Max sat in the sidecar, pushing her bulging pink dress down to fit it all in.

  ‘May the Force be —’

  The rest of Steinberger’s farewell was lost in the thunder of the Sleek Machine’s departure out of the VART and on to Blue’s Foods, where Max, Ella and Linden would embark on their first Spyforce mission. Apart from the dress, Max knew this would be one of the greatest days of her life but what she didn’t know was that deep inside her pack, a small regular pulsing was being emitted from her Danger Meter. The sound and vibrations of the Sleek Machine meant she felt none of it.

  As the Sleek Machine left the VART, a small feline cry came from within a shadowy corner as a clutch of pale bony fingers ran the length of its deep black fur.

  After an eventful ride through the skies of London dodging pigeons, swerving around statues and only narrowly missing being squashed by a double-decker bus as it entered a low level tunnel at the same time as they did, the Sleek Machine arrived with its four passengers in a small park, in a quiet street.

  Max unfolded herself from the side car where she was squashed down so low only her head poked out above th
e leather cover. This, along with the constant flapping of a stray piece of pink dress in her face, meant that all of the sites she’d heard Ella and Linden shouting about had been hidden from her.

  Sleek flung one leg over the machine and taking care to avoid a large crack in the footpath, stood before his passengers. Like an airline steward on an intercom, he bid them goodbye.

  ‘One-way ride to somewhere in the vicinity of Blue’s Foods of the three new recruits complete. Please leave your goggles in the appropriate compartments and make sure you take all your belongings with you. Your contact will be here directly to advise you of your next move. Have a pleasant mission and thank you for flying with Sleek.’

  His serious face flicked into a wide toothpaste advertisement grin before it snapped back into being serious again, as though some time in flying school he’d been advised of the importance of such a grin but hadn’t quite got it right. Avoiding the crack in the footpath once again, he climbed back onto the Sleek Machine and flew into the afternoon. Within seconds the machine disappeared as the oscillation level for invisibility was reached.

  ‘Some ride, huh?’ Ella was pleased Linden got to try the Sleek Machine.

  ‘Heaps better than I thought.’

  ‘I wonder how far it can go? Do you think it could fly all over the world?’

  ‘That’d be awesome!’

  Max looked at the two of them and wondered why whenever Linden was with Ella he started talking like he was an overacting presenter on some lame kid’s show. The ones that are all teeth and no talent.

  ‘Maybe wondering about how we’re going to meet our contact would be a more clever way to use the brain capacities you have?’

  Max turned away while Ella and Linden threw each other a shrugged look that said they knew they were in trouble but didn’t really care.

  ‘And maybe if you sold your brain to science they could work out the missing ingredient in having a sense of humour.’