by Lauren Child
‘You’re beginning to sound like Agent Delaware.’
‘Well, at the risk of sounding like him again, do you have any thoughts on why this might be?’
‘Just lucky I guess.’
‘Spectrum has never picked up on her, there has never been any sighting of any woman fitting the description you gave us, what was it –’ she read from the file – ‘a “comfortably dressed middle-aged woman, floral dress, blonde hair, blue eyes, shoulder purse, gun”.’
‘What do you want me to say – maybe I just bring out the psychopathic tendencies in people?’
‘That sounds totally plausible,’ said LB.
‘What exactly are you asking me?’ said Ruby.
‘What I am asking myself,’ said LB, giving her a stern stare, ‘is why Spectrum, with all its agents, all its intelligence and high-tech search-and-find equipment, can’t even begin to find a match for the woman you describe.’
‘You think I invented her?’ said Ruby. ‘Who do you think persuaded me to walk backwards off that cliff edge on Wolf Paw Mountain?’
‘Could you have slipped, hallucinated, maybe? You were under a lot of stress.’
‘Now you’re sounding like Dr Selgood,’ said Ruby.
‘I’m trying to get to the cold unemotional heart of things – that’s my job,’ said LB.
‘Well, this woman you don’t think exists is back in Twinford and planning murder,’ said Ruby.
‘Oh, yes,’ said LB peering down at her file, ‘you overheard a man with an Australian accent quote his boss and use the word “sweetie” – so you’re saying this boss would be her?’
Ruby nodded.
LB was about to quiz her again on the subject when she paused and said, ‘Redfort, why do you have the words WAKE UP AND SMELL THE BANANA MILK inked on your arm?’
As it transpired, Ruby didn’t have to answer that question because LB’s telephone began to ring. She picked up the receiver. ‘I’ll be there in two minutes.’ She pointed to the door and without another word, Ruby exited the room.
When Ruby arrived back in the atrium, she found Hitch gone and not an agent soul to be seen. Only the mushroom was left. She walked over to where Buzz sat, her coloured telephones beeping and blinking.
‘So where is everybody?’ asked Ruby.
‘In a briefing,’ replied Buzz.
‘What briefing?’ said Ruby.
‘It’s classified,’ said Buzz.
‘Shouldn’t I be in there?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’re not on the list.’
‘What list?’
Buzz pointed up at the names projected on the huge white wall of the atrium.
‘That list, you’re not on it.’
And it was true, she wasn’t, just about everyone else was, but she wasn’t.
‘Everyone else seems to be on it,’ she said.
‘Well, they’re not,’ said Buzz. ‘Not everyone is on the list.’
It was a very ‘Buzz’ reply, annoying yet accurate, and there was little point arguing about it.
‘Blacker,’ said Ruby.
‘Pardon?’
‘Blacker, he’s not on the list.’
‘No.’
‘So I think I might just go down to his office and pay him a visit.’
‘He’s not in.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s not in.’
‘Jeepers Buzz, could you be a little less helpful.’
‘I’m not here to be helpful.’
‘Well, congratulations on not straying from your employment brief.’
Buzz made no wisecrack smart reply, it wasn’t her style, which was because she wouldn’t know a wisecrack smart reply if it bonked her on the nose.
‘Could you perhaps do me a big favour and contact Blacker and tell him I have solved the Taste Twister conundrum – it’s a code, by the way,’ said Ruby. ‘Here, this is the bottle and these are my workings, tells him everything he needs to know, including the time. I’m sure he’ll be super interested when he finally makes it in.’
Buzz was clearly not interested. ‘Leave it on the table in the administration room, I will schedule a contact call,’ she said.
Jeepers, thought Ruby, do you ever feel a desire to be impulsive?
But what she actually said was, ‘I appreciate your help. Look, is it OK if I go to the canteen and eat my apple donut while I wait for Hitch?’
The telephone operator looked at her without expression and said, ‘Yes.’
So Ruby picked up the little brown bag containing the two donuts from Lucello’s and headed down the corridor to the Spectrum canteen. She’d reached the bank of elevators when it occurred to her it might be a nice touch to leave one of these delicious marvels on Blacker’s desk. He was no small fan of the donut.
She was nearing the coding room when she saw a man coming out. He didn’t look in her direction, but she recognised him as the agent Blacker had been speaking with the other day, the one whose eyebrows met in the middle. He didn’t see her and she didn’t do anything to attract his attention. The guy gave her the creeps. He had left the door slightly ajar and she was about to push on in when she heard a voice.
Blacker’s voice. He was talking to someone on the phone.
‘Yes, I’m on to it …’
She listened.
‘It’s strictly classified … my job is to lock this thing down … it’s only by luck and happenstance that she hasn’t heard.’
Who hasn’t heard? thought Ruby. And what hasn’t she heard?
‘She’s struck out on her own – so until we find out what’s occurring, say nothing … yes, that’s correct.’
He must be talking about someone outside of coding? But why would he need to say this? It was entirely understood that information would be released when the coding team deemed it useful.
‘I know it’s irregular but I’m telling you, it’s important that it doesn’t reach her … she mustn’t suspect. Just keep watching.’
Or was it someone higher up the food chain? Not LB, surely not LB …
Her mind was beginning to spin. But as it happened she was right, he wasn’t talking about LB.
‘I repeat,’ he said, ‘she’s a loose cannon, who knows what she’ll do, she’s a danger to all concerned … Look, how many ways have I got to say this, she’s dangerously unhinged.’
And then:
‘So whatever you do, don’t let Redfort in on this.’
Ruby felt the breath knocked out of her, though she hadn’t been struck.
As quietly as she could she backed away from the door, and when it was safe to, she ran.
She managed to make it back to the exit without anyone noticing her, and while Buzz was engaged on a call, she slipped past her into the administration room.
The admin team showed no sign of interest as Ruby walked over to the package still sitting on the desk.
She was aware that she couldn’t do anything about the information she had already passed onto Blacker, too late to change that, too late to unsolve the code. Once he knew the Taste Twister puzzle was cracked, he would pick up the third clue and maybe she needed this clue herself – if she didn’t crack this case then she couldn’t prove that she wasn’t some unreliable loose cannon, or worse: dangerously unhinged.
She couldn’t stop him knowing about it but she could take back one small piece of information.
‘What are you doing?’
Ruby spun around to see Miles Froghorn not two feet away from her.
‘That’s Spectrum property,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the bottle.
She counted to six.
‘I am aware of that, I was the one who brought it in to HQ and made it Spectrum property,’ said Ruby, trying to keep her voice calm and even and resist the urge to call this potatohead a potatohead.
‘It’s evidence,’ said Froghorn.
‘I know, Froghorn,’ this time she observed the silent G, ‘which is wh
y I am putting it in the refrigerator – it needs to be kept chilled.’
Agent Froghorn seemed grudgingly satisfied with this and watched her place the bottle in the chiller. He did not notice her unscrew the lid and let it fall inside her sleeve. Nor did he notice how she replaced it with another lid, taken from another random bottle in the chiller – one with today’s date on it.
Blacker might know where the next location was, but only she knew the right time to be there.
Chapter 43.
Ride the wind
RUBY MADE HER WAY BACK UP TO THE SUPERMARKET and found herself once again in canned goods, which was exactly how she felt.
As she walked out into the dark of the evening, she pushed her hands deep into her pockets, wishing she had remembered her gloves. She felt something and pulled out the white card embossed with the Yellow Wind-Dragon.
She stopped still there on the sidewalk. She turned the card over and over in her hand as she turned the possibilities over and over in her mind.
Blacker was the mole
Blacker thought she was the mole
Blacker thought she was dangerously unhinged
… something else.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good. People were being left off lists. She was being left off lists. Blacker was warning people about her behind her back. The Australian woman was out there somewhere … Her mind was running away with itself now. RULE 8: DON’T LET YOUR IMAGINATION RUN AWAY WITH YOU OR YOU MIGHT WELL LOSE THE PLOT. Maybe this was a good time to visit the Yellow Wind-Dragon dojo.
She drew her hood down firmly over her head, walked to the Crossways subway and took the College Town line to Cathedral where she changed trains and took the Red Line to Chinatown.
It would have been easy enough to walk past the building – it showed no sign of what it might be, just plain brick with an unwelcoming metal door set to one side. Spray painted onto the door were the same Chinese characters as on the card.
She tried the door, not expecting it to give, but it did and in she went. The interior bore no relation to the outside. It was a tranquil space, no harsh lighting, carved wooden pillars, practice mats, sliding opaque screens and much bigger than the Spectrum dojo.
She was greeted by a man in a white gi who, once she had explained who she was, led her to Jen Yu.
‘Ruby Redfort?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Hitch told me you would come.’
‘Yeah, well he was right.’
‘Who taught you?’
‘Li Mu Bai.’
‘So you studied White Leopard kung fu?’
Ruby nodded.
‘Very aggressive.’
Again Ruby nodded.
‘Strikes many times and aims to kill.’
Ruby said nothing.
‘So I will teach you something different – a style of kung fu suited to someone of your slight build. It uses momentum, fluidity and speed at its heart.’
The lesson began and it was all about dragons.
‘You can create more power in your strike when the movement originates from the feet,’ said Jen Yu. ‘Use your waist to guide it and let it flow through your body and exit through your fist. I will demonstrate. Stand in a neutral stance.’
Ruby frowned. ‘You’re going to punch me?’
‘Well, yes. How do you expect to improve your kung fu without getting punched?’
Ruby nodded; she understood. She settled into a ready stance. But she wasn’t ready at all. With amazing power and speed, Jen Yu suddenly moved her hands forwards and up, sending Ruby reeling.
Ruby picked herself up from the mat, a little winded.
‘Back into your stance,’ said Jen Yu.
Ruby did as she was told – Jen Yu was not a teacher to be argued with.
‘Dragon leg work is characterised by a zigzag motion,’ continued the teacher. ‘This mimics the movement of the dragon. This also enables one to use floating and sinking movements – these are very important in generating power and stability, making one’s body calm and relaxed. But they are also important because you will learn to ride the wind. In dragon-style kung fu, this means to follow rather than lead. But in Yellow Wind-Dragon kung fu, this also means to fly.’
Ruby liked the sound of that.
‘Yellow Wind-Dragon uses the momentum of the body to carry oneself high into the air, the feet only touching the ground in order to propel you up. Use this momentum to rotate over the head of your opponent; much of your fighting will be airborne. Like this.’
Ruby was even less ready this time. Jen Yu jumped into the air and seemed to float there, then turned into a kick that knocked Ruby flat on her back on the mat again. Ruby got up. ‘How do I learn how to do that?’ she said, when her breath was back.
Jen Yu smiled, and bowed. ‘Simple,’ she said. ‘You practise over and over until you can do it.’
Ruby arrived home late to find Hitch in the kitchen; he looked like he might have been waiting for her.
HITCH: ‘So how did your meeting with the boss go?’
RUBY: ‘Usual thing.’
HITCH: ‘Did you let her in on your big discovery?’
RUBY: ‘I didn’t see the point.’
HITCH: ‘Something bothering you kid?’
RUBY: ‘Why would there be?’
HITCH: ‘Well you look like your pet hamster just died, so I’m figuring something’s up.’
RUBY: ‘Yeah, well, now you mention it, there is actually.’
HITCH: ‘Are you planning on telling me, or do you want me to guess?’
RUBY: ‘The briefing tonight – how come I wasn’t on the list?’
HITCH: ‘You weren’t required to be there, nothing personal.’
RUBY: ‘It’s not personal that I was the only agent not required?’
HITCH: ‘Not true, Alonso wasn’t there.’
RUBY: ‘I happen to know that Alonso is in the hospital having his appendix removed, so that really doesn’t count.’
HITCH: ‘Look kid, what you need to understand is that there are a whole lot of things you don’t know about. Let’s be honest here, there are a whole lot of things I don’t know about. Let’s take your meeting with LB – I have no idea what that little tête-à-tête was about, but what I figure is, LB has her reasons.’
Ruby was getting the message loud and clear: focus on your own stuff and stop whining about everyone else’s.
She noted that Hitch didn’t bring up Blacker. Why not? It would have been the obvious thing to do. Blacker would be the one agent’s name that would have prevented her feeling sore about being left off the list.
So Hitch knows he was in the building.
But did Hitch know what Blacker was playing at? Did he know Blacker was making phone calls, warning people not to talk to her, not to trust her? Spreading rumours and poisoning the mind of every agent in Spectrum? And if he did, then was he standing up for her or was he just standing back waiting to see how it all played out?
She tried to banish the thoughts as she lay on her bed that night, but they kept creeping back, staving off sleep and twisting her mind into a knot of dead ends. Unable to fight it, she lay back on her pillow and let her paranoia lead her to dark places.
Chapter 44.
Shaking hands with the enemy
RUBY LEFT THE HOUSE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, partly because of the previous evening’s uncomfortable conversation with Hitch, and partly because she couldn’t sleep. She’d managed perhaps two hours between 2am and 4am, and seeing how she was awake, she thought she might as well try and earn herself a punctuality point from Mrs Drisco.
She arrived well before the bell was due to sound. None of her friends were there so she sat down on a bench and took out her comic and decided to read until one of them tapped her on the shoulder. To her surprise it was Vapona Begwell who did the tapping.
‘Look Redfort, I don’t like you but I gotta say, I appreciate what you did, you’re no snitch. You coulda blabbed to Levine, but y
ou didn’t.’
Then, the weirdest thing of all, Vapona Begwell stuck out her arm and shook Ruby’s hand, a firm, almost crushing handshake, the sort that might break a finger or two, but a handshake nonetheless.
‘I guess I owe you,’ she said. ‘I don’t like owing people.’ Then she turned on her heel and walked off down the corridor.
Had the world gone mad? What was going on here? Her fellow agents didn’t trust her but her sworn enemy was shaking her by the hand.
Ruby didn’t want company that day; she needed to collect her thoughts, understand what was going on here and figure out how she was going to deal with it. She particularly wanted to avoid Clancy, not because this was something she couldn’t talk about with him but because this was something she didn’t want him getting in a stew about – it was one thing him fearing the bad guys might take a pop at his best friend, it was another fearing that the so-called good guys were also on her tail. No, best not tell Clancy.
For once it was pretty easy to dodge him as he was completely immersed in his behavioural science project, setting up his little camera in the corridor, adjusting the angle, loading the tape, and for this reason his usually highly sensitive antennae was tuned to low. He barely seemed to notice that she was absent at recess, choosing to spend the breaks in the school library. In fact the truth was, none of her friends noticed.
She was in math class when a message flashed up on the Bradley Baker watch.
She stared at it, the words vivid, spelled out in green light.
>> COME IN WHEN YOU CAN. BLACKER.
She left school five minutes before the bell sounded; she wanted to get out ahead of the others, didn’t want to get caught up in any tricky lies and explanations as she headed to the subway rather than the bus stop.
She thought about what she was going to say to Blacker and she thought about RULE 51: WHEN YOU DON’T TRUST THE OTHER PLAYERS, ALWAYS PLAY YOUR CARDS CLOSE TO YOUR CHEST.
She went right on down to the coding room and as she walked through the door she gave Blacker her usual good-natured smirk.
