The Mysterious Benedict Society

Yao

I was sitting at my small desk in the corner when I got the phone message. Mr Zerice was coming over in two minutes! I scrambled to my feet, buttoning my jacket and racing down the stairs of the apartment building. Panting, I finally reached the end of the stairs. Mr Zerice was just coming off the bus. His black hair was covered by a hat. He spotted me, and smiled. I waved. He waved back, and hastily jogged over to me.

“Come on, Rickie. The wind’s horrible!” he cried, ushering me into the building. Mr Zerice was my guardian, the man who had become my father after both of my parents had died in the plane accident. I was eleven now, but only eight at the time of my parent’s death. Suddenly, I found myself a lonely orphan, with no belongings. To save me from going to some dreadful orphanage, Mr Zerice had decided to buy me a small apartment. He had taught me how to cook and do everything that a small boy living by himself in an apartment had to do. Every week, he stopped by to check on me.

I took the elevator this time, slowly waiting as the elegant machine took us to the 19th floor. Mrs Ronald, the old kindly woman living next door to me, waved. I smiled at her politely, and waved back. I reached my apartment, and opened the door. As Mr Zerice stepped into the living room, I closed the door.

“My! What wonderful work, Rickie! This place is spick and spack!” he exclaimed, clapping me on the back.

“Would you like some cocoa? I made some. I also have cookies!” I said.

“Well, I can’t so no to such an enthusiastic request!” Mr Zerice said, chuckling. He settled himself on a chair, and I poured him some cocoa. I downed half of my own cup.

“Rickie, I came here for a reason. You see, the state says I can’t raise you anymore,” he said, gravely. I choked on a piece of cookie.

“What?” I sputtered. “But Ma and Da left you in their will, didn’t they??”

“I’m afraid they didn’t Rickie. You see, your mom and dad didn’t mention me exactly. They said they’d give you to the nearest person in the family who would take you. Your aunt disagreed, and I am your father’s distant cousin, so I agreed. But now, they’ve filed a new law. They order you to have a guardian who has a direct relationship to you, not a distant related person. I’m afraid your aunt is now your guardian, Rickie,” he said, sadly. I groaned.

“But old Aunt Arice will put me in a boarding school!” I whined. Mr Zerice sighed.

“That was what I was afraid of. I only met your aunt one time in my life, and I learned after the whipped cream accident that she hates everybody. But there is something I can do. You see, there’s something going on at the community center. A man’s hosting a few tests. He wants three children, to form a league. He wants geniuses. That’s why there are tests. Rickie, I know you’re not going to be happy, but the man also says that if he does discover children that are geniuses, he’ll take them in. Give them food. Give them shelter. Give them everything they’ll need. He says he’ll need a guardian’s permission. I’m still your guardian, technically. But by 8 in the morning tomorrow, I’ll be forced to sign the contracts for your guardian. Until then, I’m still your legal guardian. So if we manage to catch the bus right now, we can make it,” he said. I cursed under my breath, but put my jacket on.

“Well, the next train to the center is in four minutes. We can make it if we hurry,” I told him. Quickly, we both took the elevator and rammed the doors to the building open. The bus was about to leave. Buses to the community came every twelve hours. By the time the next bus came, the tests would be over! Just as the doors were about to close, me and Mr Zerice raced into the vehicle. I dug in my pocket for spare coins, and handed some to the driver. As I took my seat, I wondered what the tests would be like. I had always taken tests at school, but they were a breeze. They seemed as easy as washing the dishes! But Mr Zerice had said these tests were to find out about geniuses. Not for plain old schoolkids.

In forty minutes, we had arrived. The doors were still open, and a blond woman was standing there.

“Hi there! My name is Kablonski Richardson. I suppose you’re here for the tests. Sign the name of the child please. The first test is in Room One,” she said.

Then, I noticed a girl with dyed blue hair walking up the stairs to the tests as well. She suddenly dropped her pencil into a small sewer. I rushed over to help, and noticed it wasn’t going to be easy. So, I handed her one of mines. She thanked me, then walked into the building.

Twenty minutes later, the same woman, the Kablonski one, was reciting the rules. I listened carefully, and then began on the worksheet. The first question was about something I had never heard of before! The second was too! Two kids began crying, and four moaned. Three even faked a headache. They were all disqualified, and they happily skipped out of the room. Pretty soon,  it was just the blue haired girl and me left in the room. I looked at the clock. Just ten more minutes! I had reached question 20, the halfway point. Suddenly, I noticed that in the question, there was the answer to number one! I looked back, and sure enough, the answer choice was there! After four more experiments, I concluded this was the pattern. But there was just two minutes left. I spied the girl, astonished to find the answer key in her hands! How had she gotten that?

“Want it? It’s all the correct answers to the questions! Just say it’s a favor for lending me a pencil!” the girl whispered. Kablonski looked up, but she didn’t say anything. The girl zipped her mouth shut. But her eyes still lingered with the question. I wondered if I should take it. But then, I thought about a saying I had hear before. The hard work you do will help you. The hard work others do for you will help them.

I politely shook my head. The girl shrugged, and returned to copying the answer key. I looked at the clock. My conversation had taken thirty seconds! There was just a minute and a half left. I quickly raced through the pages, and circled the answer to question 39 just as the the timer rang out. Oh no. Kablonski was moving to collect tests. Quickly, I flipped back to question 1, and answered question 40 just as the woman reached me. I handed it over, and sighed relief.

The woman motioned for me to come to another. The blue haired-girl kept following us. She always asked if I wanted the answer key, and I always shook my head. In each test, there was a slight twist. And finally, after a day of exhausting brain-testing, I was ushered into a room. There was a girl in there with dark hair in a ponytail, and a boy wearing a cap and glasses. They both politely smiled at me, and I smiled back. There was a sofa in the room, so I got comfortable. Soon, the three of us were jabbering away like old friends.

dUdU

I was sitting on my bed, fidgeting, when I heard the newspaperman. I swung off my bed and ran to the door. There hadn’t been any reading material for a week. It was like torture. Nothing else was enjoyable. All the other girls in the orphanage were all… different. They all laughed at me, even my twin. She was Esme, and I was Kate. She was a normal girl; she had a boyfriend I adamantly hated; she always spent her allowance on makeup. I, however, was an ‘unusual’ girl. I was considered tough and unlikable. I knew it myself, really, but I always ignored the nagging feeling that I was not good enough for a friend.

I slid down the bannister and somersaulted to a halt behind the door. You would think that I would be showing a lot of thigh at the others, but I wore trousers, again, unlike the others. I opened the door and took the newspaper. I ran back upstairs, opening my door and flipped open the newspaper to the first page. Right there, written in bold letters, was a question. A question that read: Are you a gifted child looking for special opportunities? It struck me as odd at how the question was addressed to children, not their guardians or parents. I didn’t know if I was gifted, only my tutor. But I decided to give it a try.

My tutor drove me over to the building. It towered over the others, its peak lost in the clouds. I was not particularly gifted, but I still wanted to do it. I was not special, but I had always had the ability to predict what was on other’s minds. I was always right, but the thing is, my identical twin had not got the capability. I walked over to the building, my hands trembling. I queued at the door. I saw a girl with bright blue hair and a neon yellow dress playing with her pencil. She didn’t deem to notice the small sewer under her. Well, until she dropped hers. Into the sewer. I walked over to her, but she didn’t notice. She was too busy looking down into the sewer where her pencil had disappeared. I tapped her shoulder, and she jumped, startled. I gave her one of mine, and I walked away. Well, tried to. She darted in front of me and said ” Thanks for sharing the pencil. I have to thank you.” she reached into her pocket and fished out a scrap of paper. “These are the-” she started, her eyes shining. I cut her off. “They’re the answers, I know,” I said knowingly. She stared at me confusedly. Then she recovered. “But do you want them?” she asked. I shook my head.

I didn’t really want the answers. What if I was caught? I walked back to my place, just as we went in. I chose a seat in the front, so I wouldn’t be tempted to cheat. She sat behind me, and then a lady walked to the front of the class. She introduced herself as Kablonski Richardson, and she was to be our testing teacher. She started handing out the papers. When some got their tests, they turned either a pale green or deathly white. Some cried and some fainted. Soon, there was only me and the blue-haired girl left. As soon as I got my paper, I started to sweat. The first question read: The territories of the Naxcivan Autonomous Republic and the Nagorno-Karabakh region are disputed by what two countries? I ended up skipping most of them. As I got to question twenty, I realised that the answers were in the test. I quickly circled the correct answers. When I got to question 23, I heard the other girl hand in her test. She was done already?! I looked up in amazement. When she brushed past me, I saw a scrap of paper float onto my desk. I flicked it off my test and circled the last answers. I ran over to Kablonski Richardson and handed over my test. She led us over to another room where I took another test. I took exactly six more tests and then I was hurried into a room where there was a boy sitting on a sofa and reading a german dictionary. I suddenly realised all the books and shelves of books cramming the walls. I chose a book and started to read. I was so caught up that I didn’t realise another boy stepping into the room.

#Bai

So, I can be the character “Sticky”. Which one of you will refer to Reynie, and which one of you will be Kate? Of course, you can change some basic details but let’s keep the personalities and abilities. 

 

I had been reading the newspaper when the queerest thing came to sight. The question read, “Are you a special child looking for special opportunities?” I had hidden from my parents, that was only because they had been dazzled by me. I remembered when I was three and had given my mother a very fascinating definition of a book I had recently read about the weather. Soon, they were very impressed by my knowledge – I heard them talking about, “more information in his head then a two college professors and a mechanic. They started exploiting me as a money machine and used me every single day to win prizes and every single night to study. I used to crack under pressure and implored them to stop, but they kept on forcing me until I ran away. Then, I read a newspaper and was finally led here. Then, I was shown to a testing room. Section 1 was simple, with just a couple of not too difficult questions just involving some simple hexagons and triangles. But when Section 2 came, I was appalled. The first question read, “Do you like television?”

Well, of course, I like television. Everyone liked watching television. Right? But as a began to mark down the answer, I kind of felt that I didn’t like it. I changed my answer to NO. After the test had finished, the test giver had only read one name of who had passed, which was me. “You will bring exactly one pencil and one eraser to the Monk Building at 1 O’clock.” Soon, I was there and found a girl talking to another, who was flipping her pencil, which hit a grate right outside and fell in. I tried to help her, and she held me down into the grate. She was as strong as a person who looked like twice her age, and I almost fell in. I was scrabbling around in the darkness, and I could feel my shoes coming off when she just lifted me up and pulled a pencil out of her pocket and took it. I wondered why she would even put me down if she had another pencil. 

Then, I took the test. I wrote my name on the line. The question read, “The territories of the Naxcivan Autonomous Republic and the Nagorno-Karabakh region are disputed by what two countries?

1907. Bhutan, which under the 1865 Treaty of Sinchulu ceded border land to Britain; and Britain, which in exchange for that land provided Bhutan an annual subsidy, and under whose influence Bhutan’s monarchy was established in 1907.
1908. Azerbaijan, whose territory in 1828 was divided between Russia and Persia by the Treaty of Turkmenchay; and Armenia, a nation founded after the destruction of the Seleucid Empire some two thousand years ago, likewise incorporated into Russia by the aforementioned treaty.
1909. Vanuatu, which having been administered (until its independence) by an Anglo-French Condominium, retains both French and English as official languages (in addition to Bislama, or Bichelama); and Portugal, whose explorer Pedro Fernandez de Quiros became in 1606 the first European to discover the islands Vanuatu comprises.”

The question was slightly confusing. But of course the answer was B. There was no doubt. All the other questions were just as simple as this one. Soon, I had passed the test.

I was led to a room, and the first thing I noticed was this she had a bucket. I mean, who carries a bucket around with them every time? I introduced myself as Sticky and announced that I was 12. Then, she told me her name was Kate and that she was 13. I asked her, “Why do you carry you bucket with you? I mean, not a lot of people decide to carry a bucket with them all the time, you know.”

“Well, I’ve often noticed that, but I can’t understand why. I can’t imagine not having a bucket. How else am I to tote my things?”

“What things do you carry?”

“I show you.”Kate said, and began removing things from the bucket. First came a Swiss Army knife, a flashlight, a pen light, and a bottle of extra-strength glue, which Kate examined to be sure its lid was tightly closed. Then she produced a bag of marbles, a slingshot, a spool of clear fishing twine, one pencil and one eraser, a kaleidoscope, and a horseshoe magnet, which she yanked with some effort from the metal bucket. “I’ve been through dozens of these,” she said, holding the magnet up for them to admire. “This is the strongest I’ve found.” Finally she showed them a length of slender nylon rope coiled around the bottom and sides of the bucket.

Then, another boy came in and introduced himself as Reynie Muldoon. Soon, we were discussing the oddities of the day. It seems like we were to be good friends.

#Yao

I introduced myself to the other two.

“Hi! My name’s Reynie Muldoon. But you can call Rickie. What’s yours?” I asked the two. A tall girl with blond hair and a bucket by her side told me her name was Kate. I looked at the skinny bald kid in the corner, silently reading a book on The War of 1812. I waited for him to speak, but his spectacled eyes didn’t even move.

“Um, hello?” I asked. The boy put down his thick book and finally looked up at me.

“Oh! Hi, Rickie. My name’s Sticky!” he told me. I was confused at first about his strange nickname, but then I realized truly how skinny he was. The boy looked like a stick!

So, the three of us just sat in the chairs, occasionally trading comments. I heard a loud rumbling in my stomach. I felt hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since that cookie when Mr Zerice had visited. The other children had all gotten chocolate eclairs and donuts when they were disqualified.

“Is anybody hungry?” I inquired. Sticky shook his head. The kid probably never ate anything. But Kate raised her hand.

“I didn’t eat anything since yesterday lunchtime!” she groaned. Yesterday? Surely, she wasn’t from out of town, was she??

Quickly, I scanned the room. There was a small cabinet, and in the cabinet, I found two boxes. I wondered how I would be able to make a slight slit in each one. Then, Kate piped up.

“You know, I have a tiny knife in my bucket,” she began. I had heard enough. She gave the tiny blade to me, and I made a small incision in each box. In the first one, there was a bunch of paper clips. In the next, I found a single dead fly. In the last, I finally found snacks. I closed the cabinet, and tore the box apart, throwing it into the trash basket once I had my food.

There were various packages of food. I split them up evenly. I got a pack of beef jerky, chips, and a water bottle. Kate got cashews, a chocolate bar, and lemonade. Sticky got peanuts, marshmallows, and water. I wolfed down the chips and water, but decided to save half of the water and the jerky for later. Kate ate all of her food, since she was very famished, but Sticky just took a few bites of peanuts, ate four marshmallows, and then went back to reading about the study of the human brain. While we were waiting, I suddenly noticed an odd little corner of paper by the book shelves. Slowly, I pulled out an envelope.

“Check this out, Kate, Sticky!” I shouted. Kate dropped the book on circus acts she was reading about, but Sticky was loath to let go of his book. Finally, we convinced him to eat some more and look at the letter. The letter read:

To find real food and shelter instead of these little snacks, be aware of the clues hidden inside this room. Find three, and you must piece together the information. Be careful, for time is scarce. If you do not find the correct way in one day, you will be disqualified and will no longer be under the service of the man.

I was surprised. Kate was, too. But Sticky calmly opened his book. He showed us another envelope in it. He remarked that he had thought it was a bookmark.

“Sticky, you’ve found the first clue!” I shouted, knocking him hard on the back. Sticky almost tumbled over, but he opened the envelope and showed us the letter.

“The man is located through the walls,” Sticky read aloud. What did that mean? None of us knew. But the second clue we found was in the wrapper of my beef jerky.

“The tunnels are key,” I read. That was even more confusing.

The final clue was the hardest. We didn’t know where the last clue was! Finally, I noticed something. I retraced my memory. Hours ago, when I first entered this very room, I remembered seeing a piece of paper in the trash. But Kate and Sticky were just talking. They couldn’t have thrown out something. A lightbulb flashed in my brain.

“C’mon! I have an idea!” I told the two. They followed me to the waste basket. I dumped the trash onto the ground. It held bottles and packages, so the piece of paper was almost impossible to identify. Finally, I managed to grab the piece of paper. Unwrapping it from the ball it had been crumpled into, I read the paper.

“I love candy,” I said. What?? Candy didn’t help us, other than quenching our hunger. Slowly, I slumped down.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kate said, trying to comfort me. But I was sad and frustrated. What were we going to do? Finally, Sticky remembered something.

“I once read in many wars, spies used invisible ink. They’d write something casual onto a piece of paper, then use lemon juice as ink to write something on the back. The receiver would have to hold the paper up onto something hot in order to decipher the letters,” he said. Kate pulled out a match kit. Quickly, she lit a small fire on one of the matches.

“Put it on top!” she said. I held up the paper, and sure enough, we saw letters.

“The passageway is in the wall,” I read. Suddenly, I unlocked everything.

“There’s a secret passageway, in the walls. It leads to the man who wants genius children. We have to find that passageway,” I said.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Kate asked.

dUdU

Reynie and I started frantically trying to open bookcases and peel off the wallpaper to reveal hidden locks. Sticky, however, was sitting on a leather armchair and starting another Oxford dictionary. I stared at him, bewildered. How was he not all over the place trying to find the secret entrance? Rickie had noticed too. “Why aren’t you looking for the entrance?” he asked. Sticky merely pointed at a wall panel and answered, “Because I’ve already found it.”

I took out my Swiss Army Knife and prised the panel from the wall. Sure enough, there was a damp passage leading forwards. Curiously, I turned around and asked Sticky, “How did you know that the passage was here?… I mean, how did you know it was this exact panel?” He blushed, and took off his spectacles. I could hear him wiping them busily as he answered, ” Well, as soon as I stepped into this room, I knew that there was a hollow space in this room. I immediately suspected a passage of some sort, and then there was the echoing. This is a large space, you know, so there is bound to be echoing. I judged that the distance between the panels would be…” He trailed off. “I’m sorry if you didn’t quite understand. It’s just I know things. Everything I read sticks in my mind, hence the name Sticky.” I told him that I didn’t really understand some of it, but I had tried to get a nickname. “I want my friends to call me the Great Kate Weather Machine. My name’s Wetherall, you know.” Even in the darkness, I knew that they were trying to get an excuse to not call me the Great Kate Weather Machine. “W-e-l-l, it’s a big long isn’t it?” I shook my head. These boys had their mind so full of clever stuff, they couldn’t even think simply. “If it’s too long for you, say it quickly. The boys exchanged looks and then went down the passage silently.

We got out tired, grimy and damp. We saw a yellow haired man with blue eyes staring down at us. He helped us up, and asked us our names. I said we were Kate, Sticky and Reynard. The man looked confused. “Well the name’s Milligan for me. Which one of you is George?” I repeated that we were Kate, Sticky and Reynard, slowly gesturing with my hands. Sticky intercepted. “My name is George,” He said.

#Bai

 

“Wait a minute. Your name is George Washington? Like the father of our country?”
“Well, it isn’t that uncommon, you know.”
“Easy, I was just teasing.”

Anyway, as Miligan led us into another room, which was yet again locked. “So, somewhere in this room will be the final piece of information to get you to Mr. Benedict.”
“Who’s Mr. Benedict?”
“He’s why we’re all here. Anyway, there’s another passageway, apart from you have to find it.”

So we had to look for a letter. No matter, I’d look through books. Suddenly, on page twenty-two of the book of fascinating wildlife, I managed to find a letter, reading,

“Where one who stands defies the name,

Dare hunt the hunter in his frame

And strike the clenches from their floor

And-

Use this code to work out where and what key to use to open the second door. Remember, it contains floor and door, which is used by the French!”

I pondered this for a second, and then said, “I have it.”

“We didn’t get the exact wording of the last line,” I continued, “because Mr. Benedict doesn’t give the whole message, but we can figure it out based on the rhyme and meter.”

 

“Rhyming couplets,” Reynie said, nodding, “in iambic tetrameter. Da DUH da DUH da DUH da DUH. And the last word of the last line rhymes with ‘floor.’”

“Door!” Kate cried. “The message said there’s a door made out of clay!”

I said “She also said it was the kind that the French use.”

“Which made no sense,” Kate said, frowning.

“Right,” I said, “but think about what we know the message said —it contains the words absolutely ‘French’ and ‘door,’ and based on rhyme and meter, we can guess where those words would appear in the last line.” said Kate 

“There’s a rhyme connection between ‘French’ and ‘clench,’” Sticky observed, “and ‘floor’ and ‘door’!” said Reynie

“How about this?”I said. “And like the French, use the clay door.”

Kate tried it out:

“And strike the clenches from their floor

And like the French, use the clay door.

“I like it, Sticky,” she said. “It seems right. But how is this the answer?”

“Because it’s all about the sound!”Reynie exclaimed, almost leaping from his chair. “Mr. Benedict wasn’t talking about a door made out of clay! In French, it sounds like ‘clay door’—”

“Oh!” Kate cried, slapping her forehead. (For although neither she nor Reynie could compete with me in the language department, they both had studied several and knew a good deal of French.) “‘And like the French, use the clé d’or’!”

“Exactly!” I said. “It sounds like the English ‘clay door,’ but it’s actually the French ‘clé d’or’—the gold key!”

“But there’s one more thing, Sticky. How does the first few lines match though?”
“That’s also another trick. The one who stands defies the name, it’s like being in the sitting room and not sitting, right? And Orion, some people call it the Hunter. So, we have look behind the map of Orion!”

“Yes! It works, Sticky!”

In an instant, Kate pulled out the map of Orion, and in a pouch were three keys, Red, Blue and Gold. The key was there, as clear as day.

We opened the door, and raced through, just to meet Kablonski Richardson. “So. You have all passed the test. Now you are to meet Mr. Benedict, and decide whether you are to join the team.”
She left quickly, filling us with questions. What team? By then, we had already raced through the house, and found some real food. Then, Kablonski rushed in again. “Come. It’s time.” 

#Yao

Kablonski pushed us all towards a small office, where a small but jolly-looking man was sitting. The man was twinkling a pencil, and trying to get it to spin on his hand. He was failing, though.

“This, children, is Mr Benedict,” Kablonski said, quickly. I stared at the man, who paid no attention. Then, after two more unsuccessful tries, Mr Benedict finally turned to us. He smiled, then waved.

“And your names?” the man asked.

“Ahem, sir, I’m Reynie Muldoon, this is Kate Wetherall, and this is… um, George Washington,” I said, but I couldn’t hide a snicker when I said Sticky’s name. Sticky gave me a glare, and I clamped my mouth shut. Mr Benedict smiled, and he offered us a biscuit. I took it, and divided it into three parts. I shared the food between the three of us, and we ate it.

“This, is Number Two,” Mr Benedict introduced. What? I thought the Kablonski woman was named Kablonski!

“I had to use a code name,” Number Two muttered.

“One more thing about Number Two. She tends to get hungry a lot, as she does not sleep and therefore needs lots of nutrition!” he said, cheerfully. Then, a figure stepped out of the dark. Hey! It was that girl with the blue hair! But now, her hair was dark.

“This is Rhonda. I believe you all have met her,” Mr Benedict said. I nodded, and Kate along with Sticky also nodded.

“Why do you have to use us? Why can’t you use Rhonda or Number Two?” I inquired. Mr Benedict sighed.

“Reynie, I needed children for my society. Number Two was once a child many years ago, but now, she is a grown woman. Rhonda was also a child, once, but years have passed, and geniuses don’t appear annualy. I was lucky to get four children all at the same time. Now, I don’t have to host any more tests!”

The man named Milligan slowly appeared next to Mr Benedict.

“Oh, and children, please make sure Mr Benedict is seated before telling something funny. Mr Benedict has a bad case of narcolepsy, and tends to fall asleep whenever he laughs too hard. If he is standing, he will fall back and land with a hard thud,” Milligan explained. We all nodded to this warning.

In a few minutes, Mr Benedict had showed us our rooms. Mine was a nice blue one, with books and clothes and other necessities. Number Two was munching some chips, and Rhonda was preparing dinner. When dinner was ready, Kate and Sticky practically skipped down the stairs. Even I was hungry. But something told me these two had come a long way to be here. Number Two ate four large servings of stew, and six bowls of rice before finally stopping. But two seconds later, she went back to eating grapes.

After dinner, Mr Benedict told us to go to our rooms, or stay in the living room. I found an old board game, and Kate and I played, while Sticky stuck his nose in a history of ancient Greek mathematicians book. In a few hours, the clock dinged eleven o’clock. I was extremely sleepy, and donned my pajamas. I shut the lamp, and quickly fell asleep. I woke up once, and could hear Number Two typing away at the computer, quietly crunching popcorn.

In the morning, I awoke to the fresh sizzling of bacon and eggs. After helping myself, I waited until Kate finished eating. Sticky didn’t eat anything at all, except an orange and a cup of milk. After eating, Mr Benedict began looking at the newspaper. He got to the comics section, where, despite Number Two’s dire warning, he laughed so hard he fell asleep in his rocking chair. Rhonda sent us off to do whatever we wanted. I began reading a book about the history of medieval warfare. and Kate began reading about circus acts. Sticky picked out an old book about linguistics, and began studying Japanese.

Soon, I got bored of just flipping pages. Kate was starting to fidget. Sticky had read the whole 4,231 pages of his book, and had started another book about the Renaissance. He was already halfway through the thick book. Kate was fumbling through her bucket, examining her flashlight, and putting in new batteries. I began to fall asleep, but Milligan woke me.

“Mr Benedict wants you in his office,” the man told me. But now, I noticed something strange. Milligan, on the first day, had been a short and round person, like Mr Benedict. Now, he was tall and skinny, like Sticky.

“Are you wearing a disguise?” Kate asked.

“I have my ways,” Milligan said, mysteriously. We were all pushed to Mr Benedict’s office. The jolly old man was sitting by his fireplace, with Number Two slowly chewing a piece of beef jerky. Mr Benedict suddenly noticed us, and smiled.

“I know you are wondering why I brought you here. Well, the answer is because I need you, for a mission. Take a look at this screen,” Mr Benedict instructed. He brought out a remote control, and opened up a small screen by his desk. He showed us an image of a warehouse.

“Why, that’s just an ordinary warehouse!” Kate remarked. Mr Benedict grinned.

“Yes, you are half right. On the outside, yes. On the inside, not so much. There are four smugglers here in this warehouse. They live in the warehouse. They smuggle endangered species of animals. We don’t there names, but we do know that there are four. Three men and one woman. Your job is to stop these people,” Mr Benedict told us.

“But…but…how?” Sticky sputtered.

“You will act as interested buyers from South America. Milligan will get your disguises, and you must learn how to speak with a good accent,” Mr Benedict said. “But now, let us not worry. Sandwiches for lunch are ready!”

As I chewed ham and cheese on rye, I thought about the mission. Would it be hard? But now, I was too immersed in eating. But a question still lingered. Would this be safe??

 

dUdU

It was probably the most dangerous thing I would have done in my life. Even that time I was hanging twenty metres off the ground was still safe, as there were three mattresses stacked on the floor if I fell. What I was about to do was a death risk.

I chewed on a piece of tough salmon from my cream cheese-and-salmon bagel. I was sitting in my room, a white room with a window taking up a whole wall, and thinking. I never really took death risks. It would be pure suicide if they found out. But still, the thought of adventure hooked me in.

I was thinking for almost half an hour when I heard a knock on my door. I let them come in and was surprised to see both Sticky and Reynie in the doorway. They sat on my bed, and Sticky said that he was going to quit. I was mildly astonished at this. Sticky seemed to be the type of kid who wouldn’t take risks, but I was still shocked by the fact that he would quit. But in a minute, Reynie and I had persuaded him to do it.

I turned off my light. I preferred the darkness, probably because I liked the calmness that came with it. I was the opposite of peaceful, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t like calm. I stretched out on my bed, stroking the soft coral fleece sheets. It was a calming shade of sky blue, swirled around in a marble pattern. I looked at the black wood headboard, imagining a small moon and stars, a lovely colour contrast, a velvety black with shining silver stars. Then I heard another sharp rap on my door, followed with a sinister voice saying, “Please unlock the door, lovey. It makes it most inconvenient for my friends and me.” He said the word friends as if they were the most opposite thing ever.

#Bai

 

The warehouse was over in the meat-packing district, where the four people, nicknamed Ten Men, were there. They were recruited by a man named Ledroptha Curtain, who wanted them to gain money and sell these for millions of pounds. We were told, by Milligan, that they had Ten Ways of hurting you, if not physically than emotionally. They had shock watches (watches that electrocute people and leaves them unconscious and dazed for a while), neckties which are like whips, handkerchiefs which know people out, razor-sharp pencils, clipboard boomerangs, poisonous chewing gum, paper clip chains, a cigar box, named Pandora’s box which scares you, real laser pointers and calculator bombs.

We hadn’t even started our search and they had already tried to invade the house, which Miligan had brought great action to. He had taken us and Rhonda, Number Two and Mr. Benedict into a secret hiding room. After doing that, he took out his tranquilizer gun, and gave a quick swit, and the two men were unconscious, on the floor. With a race, we headed for the apartment next to the warehouse, where we could clearly see Mr. Benedict’s house and receive and send messages using Morse Code.

Then, we looked about the warehouse, trying to look for any giveaways about what was happening. While the Ten Men were chatting to Mr. Curtain, who had just arrived to check up, in the warehouse we went. There were about a dozen cages, each with a different coloured animal. Some were filled with little mice, with the label Pika on it. Then, in another, there was a leopard, with the name Amur Leopard. From left to right, there were Darwin’s fox, White-rumped vulture, Peruvian Spider Monkey, Black-footed ferret, a Sumatran Rhinoceros, and finally a Pangolin. I remembered these at once, but suddenly, there came a sound. There was only one thing for it. We rushed onto the second floor, which had been created for the beds and living of the ten men. There were some barrels, and we hid there. Downstairs, someone said. “I heard something. Sharpe, check the cages. Garrote, check the doors. Mary, check the stairs. McCracken, check upstairs. However, that voice seemed familiar. So familiar, as in, that was the voice of Mr. Benedict. 

After they had left again, I rushed back to the house. This was seriously wrong. Mr. Benedict was Mr. Curtain? I sent them a message, and they replied:

“When looking in my looking glass

I spied a trusted face. Alas,

Not to be taken for him am I.

Beware, therefore, the Gemini.”

I said, “Mr. Curtain or Mr. Benedict must be crazy. He looked in the mirror and decided that he was here and not here. He must be mad.”

But then Reynie asked me a strange question. “What symbol was the Gemini?”
“Well, it’s a twin.”

Wait, a twin. “He’s a twin!”

Kate asked, “Why didn’t he tell us?”
“Well, Mr. Benedict didn’t even know himself, because they were separated.

“Then, how did he know now?”
“The looking glass, remember, he was looking at the glass, it meant his telescope!”

“Ok. Now, I’ll tell him about the animals.”

I sent Mr. Benedict a message. Twin understood. Animals: Pika, Amur Leopard, Darwin’s fox, White-rumped vulture, Peruvian Spider Monkey, Black-footed ferret, a Sumatran Rhinoceros, and finally a Pangolin. 

Great. Good Job. Good Night. Good Luck.

#Yao

I was stepping into the warehouse, the clock on my wrist read 4:00 am. I had woken up extremely early, and there were black circles under my eyes. But I held my ground, well, when the Ten Men started interrogation time.

“Hey kid. What are you doing out here this early?” the man asked. He had clearly drunk coffee to stay awake, but nevertheless was still half-awake. I cleared my throat, and tried to act indignantly.

“I don’t know vat you are saying, but I am here from Mexico. You are what they call, Ten Men?” I asked, trying to portray as much adulthood as I could. The Ten Man looked at me. I could see a small buzz from his electric watch. He scoffed to himself. He kept on scrutinizing me, trying to angle me out.

“Well, I don’t have any proof, but you’re short. You look an 11-year-old kid!” he said. I snorted like he was joking.

“Heck, I’m older than that!” I retorted. The man looked suspicious. I gulped. But at that moment, the words he said would make me want to hug the person who invented ineffective coffee.

“Ugh. I’m just tired. I’ll let you in, if I can just sleep-zzzz,” the man began snoring away. I smiled, and slowly unwrapped the C-4 explosive out of my pockets. Slowly, I cut off a slab and attached it to the building. I set the timer to an hour, and then sneaked by the asleep sentry. I left off a canister of knock-out gas, but attached a gas mask to my mouth. Carefully, I nudged each guard to make sure they were all asleep. They were down like babies.

I got all of the baby animals out of their cages and into a bag. Quietly, I crept out of the warehouse. Forty minutes later, I was in the safe house with the rest of the gang. Then, we heard a mighty explosion from the docks. Smiling, Mr Benedict nodded. I emptied the animals out of the bags, and turned them over to the police, who were at our house. We had alerted them, and now, we were going to catch Mr Curtain. His warehouse was just a distraction. The main strength of our force was going to Mr Curtain’s mansion.

I hid my knife at the bottom of my shirt. It was a small blade, but I thought that I was too young to have this weapon. At least I didn’t need an M-4 carbine assault rifle. Slowly, I entered the solid gold doors. A thick shabby hand reached out to grab my skinny body, but a police officer saved me with a quick four round burst. The man who had grabbed me was a muscular bodyguard. I shivered from the thought of being grabbed again, so from that point on, I held my knife out whenever I rounded a corner.

Soon, we had reached the office of Mr Curtain. The fourteen policemen were about to burst in with rifles firing. But then, they turned towards us, and were about to fire.

“What’s going on?” demanded Kate.

“We work for Mr Curtain,” the leading lieutenant said.

“But, you killed so many guards!” Sticky replied.

“All robots,” a sergeant said, smiling.

 

 

dUdU

The pain of the shock watches was nothing compared to the fact that the guards were all robots—it was like comparing a breath of wind to a thunderstorm. Then, we were thrown into something resembling a swamp prison. It was a room, filled with mud and dirt, filled with insects and carcasses of rotting animals. I suddenly realised that if there was mud, there was water. I held my breath and started scooping the mud and weeds away, desperately trying to find a source of water. The others had caught on and were digging through the layers of grime and dirt to find water. As I scraped away the remains of a rotten leaf, I suddenly realised that the mud was getting wetter and thinner as I dug down. The lumps of foulness thinned out, leaving it as a sort of mud-water combination.

I dug deeper, eventually plunging my hands into icy water. I took a deep breath and plunged my face into the frigid water. It came as a shock, as I had just gotten used to the tepid temperatures of this room. I came back up, gasping for air, and signalled for the others. I plunged my face back into the water and made my way forwards, occasionally scooping a lump of mud out of my way. I would usually go back to the start for air, but then, I tumbled into fresh water. The others followed, jolting through the tunnel and into a freshwater stream.

I swam back to Reynie and Sticky, who were coughing up brown water. I swam to shore and beckoned them to come. Sticky suggested huddling together to preserve natural body heat. So that was what we did for the next hour or so, a shivering threesome huddled together on the shore.

#Bai

Even though I was, on the shore, choking, I had seen enough to let me work out what was going on – in Mr. Curtain’s room had been a weird sort of chair, a chair that had a red helmet on, and a blue helmet on. It was certainly very queer, and we reported this to Mr. Benedict. The message came back. Must come back. Not what it seems like. In a panic, we gathered our things, and arrived at the house, where Kablonski was waiting for us. “Come in. This is an emergency.”

As we entered, Mr. Benedict’s tousled hair, green plaid suit and sturdy spectacles certainly calmed us down. It was strange, as if we were suddenly protected by this saint. He announced, “This business about animals is important, but it is not what it really is about. Rhonda here, recently studied the human brain, and found this uncanny effect of these strange messages, which were affecting all of our actions. After that warning call, I managed to create this machine, which would show these thoughts. Here it is: ”

He had shown us a machine, which was sort of connecting to a television. I recognised this as energy waves produced by the acceleration or the oscillation of an electric charge – electromagnetic radiation. Then, Number Two started typing frantically. A news reporter was talking about how the animals had gone missing – the side operation of Mr. Curtain. The image of the news reporter stayed there, but the voice was changed that by of a child.

“THE MISSING AREN’T MISSING, THEY’RE ONLY DEPARTED.

ALL MINDS KEEP ALL THOUGHTS — SO LIKE GOLD — CLOSELY GUARDED. . . .”

Again the words were overcome by static. Number Two muttered under her breath. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and the child’s slow, whispery voice returned:

“GROW THE LAWN AND MOW THE LAWN.

ALWAYS LEAVE THE TV ON.

BRUSH YOUR TEETH AND KILL THE GERMS.

POISON APPLES, POISON WORMS.

REMEMBER TO BUY THE SPECIAL ANIMALS”

It went on like this. The child’s voice never faltered, never ceased, but delivered the curious phrases in an eerie, chantlike progression. The news reporter, meanwhile, had vanished from the distorted picture, replaced by a cheerful-looking weather forecaster, but it continued to be the child’s voice they heard. Mr. Benedict signaled Number Two, whose fingers flew over the computer keyboard. The child’s voice faded. The weather forecaster was promising clear skies by afternoon.

“So that’s what they mean. They’re trying to get us to buy things, and sort of use the television as a channel.”

“Yes. And your mission has changed. You have to stop Mr. Curtain, by going to his institute. The LIVE – Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened. Time is less. You have to hurry.”

#Yao

I was excited and nervous at the same time. As Number Two checked us in, I saw Sticky fidgeting with his fingers. He was anxious. I chomped a beef sandwich I had packed, and offered a cucumber and tuna one to Kate, who eagerly accepted it. Sticky’s favorite was absurd. He loved sardines with pickles and peanut butter. I had made some, but Sticky was too fidgety to eat. Slowly, the campus building got into site. My, what a large building. There were students all over camp. Some were enjoying the sunshine, while others were eating. I rolled down the window of the car, eagerly awaiting the fresh air. Finally, we arrived at the dorm building.

The building looked a bit abnormal, with very tall towers. Our plan was to infiltrate the building, and disable the machine. Carefully, I stepped out of the car as a boy wearing a red sash around his waist approached us.

“Hello! You must be the new ones. I am Jerosh. I will give you a tour!” the man said. He was obviously a prefect. Number Two waved goodbye, and then drove off. Kate and Sticky looked at me. I shrugged, and decided to follow the man. Two more prefects came, and they took the luggage.

“Well, let’s begin the tour, shall we? First, this is the dorm building. It’s where everybody sleeps. As you can see, each room has a bunk bed. Sticky and Reynie, you will be together. Kate, you will be with another girl. Your luggage is already in there. Each room , as you can see, has a desk, a bunk bed, a computer, a TV, and two chairs. The curtains are too be closed at night, and nights out is at nine o’clock sharp. Prefects will check to see if everybody is in bed, by 10 o’clock. Those who are still up will be immediately punished. Next, we have the school building. Inside, there are classrooms, and also a cafeteria. The cafeteria serves breakfast at eight each morning, and no later. Those who miss the meal will remain hungry. Lunch is to be served at 12:30, and dinner at 6. The entertainment room is located in the dorms. Now, that is the end of the tour. Any questions?”

Sticky shook his head. I had one, but it was about the food, and it wasn’t really important. Kate had one.

“Wait. Why do I have to share a room?” she asked. The prefect looked at her, surprised.

“Why, because each room has a bunk bed! We can’t have one person sleeping a bunk bed!” the boy exclaimed. As the prefect went on to describe what activities were allowed in the sports field, Kate whispered to me and Sticky.

“We’re supposed to send each other messages with a flashlight at midnight using Morse Code! But how will I do that with a roommate?” Kate said. I shrugged, but Sticky had a solution.

“What if you become a prefect?” Sticky whispered.

“How will that change anything?” I asked.

“Simple. I did some snooping while you guys were looking at your rooms. The prefects live in a separate part, and each one gets his/her own room. If Kate became a prefect, she would get her own room!” Sticky said.

“Excuse me? Are you guys even listening? Let me repeat the rules. No fighting is tolerated…”

The school day started right after breakfast the next morning, which was pancakes and bacon. But then, we heard how one could become a prefect.

“Now, I know most of you are reaching for prefect, that get to wear red sashes, but it will be hard. First off, your academic grades must be perfect…”

I saw Kate freeze.

“What’s the matter?” I whispered.

“I’m horrible at science!” she said. Oh no…

dUdU

As soon as I heard the word “perfect”, I froze. I had been taught by a circus, not some straight-A scholar! The Prefect didn’t seem to notice, as he was too busy prattling on about the subjects we would learn. The boys, however, noticed immediately. Well, only Reynie. He poked Sticky in the ribs and turned to me. “What’s wrong?”

Well, it might be that I haven’t had a first-class education like you, I thought sourly. “I’m horrible at science!” I whispered, frowning nervously. We didn’t know that the Prefect had suddenly stopped his long speech about stock prices and marketing business to stare at us questioningly. 

“Why are you huddled up like that?” he asked, his head tilted and waiting for an answer. I suddenly faked a sore leg and told him, “Oh, Sticky’s just inspecting my leg. I fell over, and I think I sprained it.” I replied, batting my eyelashes (FYI: I would NEVER do that in real life.) innocently. Sticky nodded and launched into a speech about the many layers of skin over the human skeletal structure’s muscles and tissues, and how the rock outside, (probably something like concrete or granite) would have cut through three or four layers of skin, possibly five if I grazed it on a sharp rock. The Prefect nodded and smiled uneasily, making a mental note to report this unusual behaviour to his superiors. 

When he had gone to the Prefect’s common room, I suddenly realised that it had been a long time since the luncheon sandwiches. The others seemed to be as hungry as me, so we headed to the cafeteria.

Maybe the smell of the cafeteria will always overwhelm me. We stood in the doorway, inhaling all the delectable aromas. I filled my tray with creampuffs and pastries, wanting to taste all the ambrosial flavours. 

#Bai

 

The Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened was unlike other schools. For one thing, the cafeteria food smelled good and tasted even better. Beyond that, there were no textbooks, no field trips, no report cards, no roll call (if you were missing, a Prefect came to find you), no rickety film projectors, no lockers, no team sports, no library, and, weirdly enough, no mirrors to be found anywhere. Nor was there any separation between beginning and advanced students: Class groups were assigned at random, regardless of age or accomplishment, and everyone in that group sat in the same classrooms together, learning the same lessons. The lessons had been designed by Mr. Curtain himself, and when all of them had been gotten through, they were repeated from the beginning. Thus all the lessons were eventually reviewed many times — and the students who learned them best became Messengers.

Jerosh’s lesson had been called “Personal Hygiene: Unavoidable Dangers and What Must Be Done to Avoid Them.” Like all the lessons at the Institute, this one was a barrage of details — pages and pages worth — but the gist was that sickness, like a hungry predator, lurked in every nook and cranny. Every touchable surface was a disease waiting to happen, every speck of dust an allergen poised to swell your nose and clog your ducts, every toothbrush bristle a bacterial playground. On and on it went, and all of it was greatly exaggerated, Reynie thought, though not entirely untrue. What made the lesson so confusing was the “logical conclusion” S.Q. said must be drawn: Because it was impossible, in the end, to protect yourself from anything — no matter how hard you tried — it was important to try as hard as you could to protect yourself from everything.

We met whenever we could – it was so difficult but we saw each other at the end of every lesson. Kate moaned, “How is this supposed to make sense? I mean 

THE FREE MARKET MUST ALWAYS BE COMPLETELY FREE.

THE FREE MARKET MUST BE CONTROLLED IN CERTAIN CASES.

THE FREE MARKET MUST BE FREE ENOUGH TO CONTROL ITS FREEDOM IN CERTAIN CASES.

THE FREE MARKET MUST HAVE ENOUGH CONTROL TO FREE ITSELF IN CERTAIN CASES.

THE FREE MARKET . . .”

“Wait. Shush.” Reynie whispered. “I think the lessons have something to do with the lessons!”

“Yes! Of course. Remember the mad lessons, Poison Apples, poisons worms? That was in the receiver!”

However, when we had dinner, there came two very sad men, which looked somehow like Milligan. They were carrying buckets of water. But when Reynie saw them, he started acting strange. 

“Good afternoon,” Reynie said, forgetting that he usually avoided greeting Helpers. He was nervous about the spyglass and had wanted to seem casual.

The Helpers, a man and a woman, glanced at Reynie with fearful suspicion. To ease their worries he smiled good-naturedly and gave a little wave — then immediately regretted it. The Helpers, feeling compelled to reciprocate, stopped walking and set down their buckets so they could wave back.

“Nice buckets,” Kate said.

“Thank you, miss. They do the job,” said one of the Helpers, a short rotund man who looked rather like a bullfrog and sounded even more like one.

At the sound of his voice, Reynie started. Apparently, he knew this man! He took a step closer and peered at the man’s face. The Helper took a step backward and averted his eyes.

 

“Hello, wait, you’re Mr Bloomberg!”

“Um, I think not. My name is Harry Harrison.”

“Wait, you’ve never visited Stone Town Orphanage?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

Suddenly, the colour drained out of Reynie’s face. Kate started pestering him with questions. “What’s going on? What’s happening? Reynie?”

Reynie suddenly said, “Mr. Curtain is erasing their memories. I knew that man. His name was Mr. Bloomberg, and he inspected the orphanage school. That’s why he didn’t know who I was.”

Kate replied, “Then, we need to work out where Mr. Curtain’s diary is! Remember, he goes onto the Plaza! He was writing things. There must be some information.”

“But then, how do we get it?”

#Yao

The only way to retrieve Mr Curtain’s diary was to go to his office in the academy. The only people allowed there were prefects and Messengers. Sticky and I were well onto being prefects, we had already been nominated by Jerosh. However, Kate wasn’t doing so well. Jerosh had to remind her at least twice a day to concentrate on her work. She was also get wrapped up in our hygiene lesson.

“It’s so confusing! In the circus, I never had to sit still. I was doing tricks all the time! And we didn’t even know hygiene. Now that I think about it, the elephant poop was everywhere! Just so unfair!” Kate complained, stabbing her fork at her chicken and dumplings. White, thick broth splatted onto Sticky’s head. Sticky wiped it off with a napkin, and frowned at Kate.

“It’s the only to become a prefect!” I said, taking a bite of my meatloaf. Kate shook her head.

“It’s hopeless,” she muttered, sadly. Sticky took a loud munch of his tuna melt sandwich.

“No it’s not. In fact, if you study enough-” Sticky began.

“All you say is study? Look, I was up last night reading about hygiene! It’s no use!” Kate retorted.

“Whoa, break it up you two. You don’t want to start a fight, now, do you?” I said.

Kate snorted, and returned to eating. Sticky held a book up to his face. I finished my lunch and threw away my trash. Just as I turned around, I saw Kate throw a tiny piece of chicken at Sticky. Sticky glared at her, and then threw half of his tuna melt right at her face. Kate ducked, and it landed right in some boy’s face. The boy threw a PB and J sandwich, but it missed Sticky and hit another boy. That boy threw it accidentally at a girl, and soon, we had meatballs, salads, and soup flying everywhere. A piece of chicken barely missed my hair. If Sticky and Kate were caught, they would never become prefects! So, I quickly formed a plan. Sticky and Kate would quickly go to the bathroom, while I stayed behind to try and stop the fight. Nobody could blame me, and Sticky and Kate would be out of the room!

The plan went into action. Sticky and Kate slipped away unnoticed. I ducked a tangled mess of spaghetti, and almost got whopped with a cream pie. Then, a banana mashed into my face, and a candy bar stuck to my hair. A chicken cutlet flew right at my chest, but I dodged it. Quickly, I whistled, but my useless whistling was horrible. Nobody even heard me, and I found myself being the prime target of choice. Fish sticks and broccoli flew at me, and steaks stuck to my shoes. I sighed loudly, closing my eyes. Suddenly, four prefects burst into the room, blowing on whistles. The last piece of corn on cob landed at Jerosh’s feet. He scanned the room.

“Who did this?” he yelled.

All eyes pointed to me. Curses…

dUdU 

I knew that Reynie would be the one everyone suspected. I leapt in front of him. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I threw chicken at Stick- I mean George,” I said, using my best pleading voice. Sticky raised his eyebrows and then coughed, trying to cover it up. Jerosh frowned. “To the Waiting Room, the three of you,” he said, pointing to us each in turn. 

“But S-George didn’t do anything!” I stalled, protesting. Jerosh narrowed his eyes. “Did you catch what I said? GO. Now.” he said, pointing to the cafeteria door. I heard a thudding sound and assumed that one of the pupils had fainted. My predictions were correct. A student was lying on the floor, unconscious. But then Jerosh ushed us out of the cafeteria.

The Waiting Room was something similar. There was a hole in the corner of the room, and there was a stench of rotting carcasses that hung in the air. It was knee-high in mud, somewhere millions of viruses could inhabit. Jerosh shoved us in and closed the door. As he did, he smirked, and said, “You know how much we don’t want bacteria in the school.”

I suddenly realised that this was the place we were before. But all the mud wasn’t wet anymore, at least not in some parts. Some parts were too thin for even Sticky to fit through. Then, we hit home. I realised pond lilies would have to have water to survive. Even Mr Curtain’s “genetically improved” pond lilies had to thrive in a body of water, hence the name. I started digging next to the lilies, scooping up handfuls of dirt and mud. I must have dug at least five feet down before I hit water. I widened the hole so I could fit through. I beckoned to the others. I slid through the hole and started to dig, stopping for intermittent breaths of air. Then I was free.

#Bai

It was not a good idea to escape, but this was the plan. The Prefects had announced though would come to get us at five, and luckily we could escape all before then, gain information, and then report this to Mr. Benedict. Mr. Curtain’s was just near the classrooms, and I remembered the sound of the beeps as he opened the door. After studying the keypad – it was a SRS DC60SS – and therefore, from the distance I was in, the sonic waves perfectly hit me, from a 270 degree angle, with slight rebounce because the walls were wood, and then divide that by the frequency of the amount spreaded into the wall – creating a wave effect:

https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1RebhM1w_fJ3yrk3ChRZA9RiQBh-79imd54IIuzepmE0/edit?usp=sharing

Therefore, that derived the code to be 0798412893 – and after typing in the code we entered the office. It was extremely austere, with hard, stone walls, and only a desk, a chair, and a drawer. The drawer only had a book – the Harry Mulisch’s The Discovery of Heaven, and strangely, only a pen. The suspicious thing wasn’t the pen. It was the fact that the pen was upright, stabbing into the soft bottom. Kate judged the distance. “There’s about five inches into the drawer that’s unused. Reynie pulled out his diary! I just read something quickly – the problem was, he had covered some entries. 

No one seems to realize how much we are driven by FEAR, the essential component of human personality. Everything else — from ambition to love to despair — derives in some way from this single powerful emotion. Must find the best way to make use of this. Much to my disappointment, I have concluded there is no such thing as perfect control. I have come to understand, however, that the illusion of perfect control can amount to the same thing. 

“He’s all about illusions,” Reynie reflected. “The Institute’s ‘lack of rules’ is an illusion, not to mention its excellent reputation. And the Emergency, too — the hidden messages make everything seem more hopeless and out of control than it really is. But then where is this illusion of control?” 

“I didn’t see anything about that,” Sticky replied. He glanced at his papers. “The next few entries are all about using children as filters to keep the messages hidden. It’s nothing we don’t know. I’ll skip them for now. I’m afraid the next part is a bit technical. Ready?”

“Yep.”

Brainsweeping a success! High-power, close-contact transmission works perfectly well as a forcible procedure! Retraining should also succeed: ‘Contentment’ messages will 1) counteract a brainswept individual’s tendency to question, and 2) lessen the chronic mournfulness effect. Predicted side effects of retraining: timidity, anxiety, self-doubt. Conclusion: satisfactory. “Brainsweeping must be Mr. Curtain’s term for destroying people’s memories,” Reynie said. “If they’re in his machine — I think that’s what he means by ‘close-contact transmission’ — then he can brainsweep them against their will, which is what he means by ‘forcible.’ That must be what happened to Milligan, except Milligan got away before Mr. Curtain could ‘retrain’ him.”

“But the other agents weren’t so lucky,” I said. “Mr. Curtain retrained them with ‘contentment’ messages that tell them not to question anything!”

“And to feel less sad,” Kate said. “But that part must not have worked so well. They all still suffer from that pesky ‘chronic mournfulness effect.’”

“There’s more about it in the next entry,” I said.

Long-term brainsweeping and retraining results mixed: Helpers manageable but still dispirited. Worse, too-frequent relapse of memory, often in association with trigger objects. Typical episode begins with the last important thing remembered: names of significant persons, unfulfilled obligations, etc. Most irritating. Note: Two of the last four episodes occurred near mirrors. Reflection must be promoting self-identification. Solution: Remove mirrors.

I checked the papers. “We’re almost finished. The next entry explains why the special recruits aren’t so sad. It’s more or less what we thought.”

“Remember when we talked about lacunar amnesia, or forgetting particular events? Apparently Mr. Curtain can use his machine to wipe out specific memories without taking away everything — without doing a complete brainsweep. It makes people dazed for a while, but then they get better, and the memories rarely come back.”

“So if those Ten Men had managed to kidnap us,” Kate said, “Mr. Curtain would have made sure we didn’t remember it. That’s why special recruits aren’t scared.”

“But because they weren’t completely brainswept,” Reynie said, “they aren’t sad, either. Which makes them better Prefect material. I’ll bet most of the Prefect used to be special recruits. Maybe even all of them. After all, they had no families to return to on the mainland.”

Sticky flipped a page. “Guess what? The date of this next entry is the day we arrived on the island.”

At last — all facilities now complete! Proper officials in proper places. Public mood at proper levels. The Improvement is very close at hand. Everything is ready except final modifications and the final few shipments, one of which is being loaded even as I write. Farewell! I’ve dispatched a Helper crew to adjust turbine output — shall require a great deal more from them in coming days.

Success! As of this morning, the messages are transmitting directly. To my great satisfaction, the Whisperer is now capable of

“That’s it?” Kate asked.

 

“Sorry,” Sticky said. “The paper was covering the rest.”

 

 

 

Sticky was preparing to read the last journal entry. “This is where he seems to go completely bonkers. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

It’s Curtain for You! Trust Ledroptha Curtain. Curtain makes things better. Feel certain about Curtain. No, Feel certain with Curtain. Curtain Has Control.

“Seems like he’s trying to convince someone of something.”

Under that was another newspaper. But we could not enter, for at that time someone came in.

#Yao

I scrambled to my feet, closing the journal. The person was still pressing numbers on the pad, which was good.

“Hide!” Sticky mouthed.

“Where?” Kate mouthed back. Suddenly, the door slid open. I crouched underneath a small desk in the corner, and Sticky was so skinny he managed to squeeze himself behind a bookshelf. Kate was the only one in plain sight. Then, she remembered her circus training. For once, I was happy that she had lived in a circus. Hopping from a desk, she managed to reach the chandelier, and hung there for dear life. When Mr Curtain came in, he sat down at his chair with a brown bag. He began writing in his journal. Then, he took a loud crunch of his crispy pita sandwich. One of the falafel balls flew out, right at my face. I ducked, and it hit the desk. Oh no. If Mr Curtain noticed the falafel on the desk, he’d walk over, and see me as well.

So, quick as lightning, I stuffed the falafel into my mouth. Chewing as quietly as I could, I swallowed the food. It didn’t taste half bad. Finally, Mr Curtain left the room. I jumped up and read the new entry.

“At last! My machine is ready. However, I will need three prefects to try it before I can actually start using it! I shall have to choose the three most competent prefects!” I read.

“We need to get chosen! This way, we’ll be able to disable the machine together!” Sticky said.

“But you see my academic grades! Plus, now that we’re accused of starting the food fight, we’ll never make it to prefect!” Kate moaned.

“No. But I have an idea. Quick, let’s get out of here before Curtain enters again. I’ll tell you during recreation time!” I said.

So, the rest of the day went fine. I got an A+ on my test, while Sticky got an A++. Jerosh explained that Sticky had corrected a mistake in the test questions. It was only a tiny grammar mistake, but Sticky had gotten ten bonus points. To my dismay, Kate didn’t do so well. She got a B-. Although it was a passing grade, it wasn’t enough to get her into a prefect. That afternoon, as the sounds of old arcade games and ping-pong echoed through the play room, I told Kate and Sticky my plan.

“We cheat,” I said.

“What? No. I am an honorable person. I live by an honor code!” Kate replied.

“Kate, we need you. If Curtain selects us but not you, we’ll never be able to complete the plan! The other prefect will just see us!” Sticky told her.

“Fine. But I still think we need to consult with Milligan. Flash him a Morse Code signal,” Kate said, sighing. She began playing an oldies, Mortal Combat game.

” Pool?” I asked Sticky.

“Sure,” he replied. We played the game until it was almost lights-out. That night, I waited as the crickets chirped. I heard the slight creak of a door, and I knew it was a prefect. Quickly, I shut my eyes. The boy must have been convinced, since he slowly closed the door. After waiting for what seemed like twenty minutes, I finally got up from my bed and went to the window. There, I picked up a flashlight.

“Need help?” a voice whispered. I jumped, and relaxed when I saw it was just Sticky. He was in his pajamas, and I nodded. I didn’t really memorize Morse Code very well. In two minutes, Sticky had give a message. It took two minutes for the reply.

“Do not get caught,” I read.

“Well?” Sticky asked.

“Operation Cheating is a go!” I said, excitedly.

dUdU

sorry about the f, my d keeps on turning into an f

Cheating? I suddenly realised the boys were asking Mr Benedict for advice. It took two minutes for the message to be relayed back to us.

“Do Not,” the message said. Sticky took out his spectacles and started to polish them furiously. 

“I guess that settles it,” he said with great relief. 

“Wait, there’s more,” Reynie replied. I recognised a ‘g’ at the start but then decided to let the boys decode it.

“Get Caught.” the message finished. “I guess that settles it,” I said. 

When my roommate was asleep, I crawled through the heating vents, to the boys’ room. “So, are we going to practise cheating or what?” I said, making Sticky jump terribly. We spent the next hour or two learning to cheat, and it was going wrong until Sticky suggested that I use Morse code. I wondered how in the world I could use Morse code, as we weren’t allowed to bring flashlights into class with us, but then Sticky explained his cheating method.

“To put it simply, we could take advantage of my fidgeting. I mean, we could make a code out of ear tugs and temple taps,” he explained. We spent the rest of the night revising our Morse code, which would be pivotal to our success.

The next day, our cheating took its toll. My grades improved, and we never got caught. But, one day, we heard rumours spreading through the school. Apparently, Charlie Peters was graduating. This explanation would be sensible, as he had not been in classes all day and others had seen some Prefects with him in the dormitory. One said this was usual, as graduates never spoke to a soul – apparently they were too high and mighty. They had no choice, another said; the Prefects never allowed it.

#Bai

If we could talk to Charlie Peters, we could gain new information. After class, I overheard Jerosh talking to another Prefect. His name was S.Q. Pedilian, and he was probably the clumsiest person in the world. Every time he shut a door, his foot got stuck in – his feet were larger than a clown’s shoes. “Right. S.Q. you gotta take Charlie Peters across the school, and make sure he speaks to no one. Understand?”
“Yes, Jerosh.”
Kate put forward a plan. “Right. I’ll distract S.Q., and then you go ask Charlie. OK?”
Soon, after another of S.Q. lessons, Kate ran across to him, shouting, “S.Q. I would like to ask a question about-”
Then, she took at great fall – she almost skidded to the ground, her knees slamming into S.Q., her arms disrupting the others. S.Q. shouted, “Kate! Are you all right?”
Then, I rushed to Charlie. “Charlie, what have you been doing all this time?”
“I can’t say. I’ve been so busy, that everything else seems like a blur.”
By then, Kate had gotten up and was pretending to look shaky. “Kate, you’re lucky to be alive. Hey! You two, get away from Charlie.”

Kate asked, “What did you get?”
“Nothing. Just said that he knew nothing.”
“Then, Mr Curtain must have removed his memories – that’s why he can’t remember his time at the Institute!”
“Yes! It must be.”
That night, Mr. Benedict sent us a message. 

“With open eyes now you may find
A place you must exit to enter.
Where all of you have been before.”

“Wait. Mr. Benedict wouldn’t know about the classroom. So it must be the Waiting Room that we went to!”
“Yes. But where did we go?”
“Remember, we went on grass! That means we went onto the plaza!”
“Then, I remember Jerosh leading us around the trap, so the traps protect the boulders!”
“Yes! We have to exit the building to enter the entrance!”Then, the next day we decided to visit the boulders. Then, realising that Mr. Curtain likes to ram through doors, Reynie gave it a kick, and then we entered the passageway. “What’s that?” Kate said, pointing to a piece of paper stuck to the wall above the door. “It looks like a note. Here, Constance, let me lift you up.” In a moment Constance had the note. Printed in distinctive, awkward handwriting, it read: LOSE the new code? Turn OVER for new code!” At the bottom of the paper an arrow pointed down. Attention all Executives: You cannot leave notes like this. S.Q., this had better be gone by tonight. Stop trying to be clever. — Jackson”
“I don’t get it,” Sticky said. “Why would S.Q. say ‘turn over for code’ if he wasn’t going to write the code on the back?”
“It’s S.Q., remember,” said Kate. “Maybe he forgot to write it. My question is why Jackson didn’t just take the note down himself.”
Reynie was studying the note. “There’s something . . .” The others looked at him expectantly. He rubbed his chin. “Well . . . why did Jackson tell him not to try to be clever?”
“But he did try — that’s what Jackson’s saying. So the question is, what did S.Q. do that he thought was so clever? Surely it wasn’t just leaving the note so high up. It was hard to reach, maybe, but not hard to spot.”
Kate read the note again. “Okay, why does he capitalize LOSE and OVER? It’s not just for emphasis, is it?”
“I think it’s to call attention to them,” Reynie said. “There’s something special about them. . . .” He trailed off, considering.
“Well . . . both words have four letters,” I offered, hoping somehow this was a helpful thing to point out. Suddenly Reynie stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute! I have it! Turning the note over is the point! S.Q., you devil!”
“Um, Reynie?” said Kate. “We did turn it over, remember? There’s nothing there.”
“We turned to the back of the paper,” Reynie said. “S.Q. didn’t mean that. He meant to turn the note upside down.”
“I still don’t get it,” Sticky said.
“Think of it this way. What if the note read: ‘Is LOSE the new code?’ The answer is ‘Yes, but you have to turn it OVER!’” Reynie turned the note upside down and pointed to the word LOSE. The letters were now numbers: 3507. Reynie saw a troubled look cross Kate’s face. Had it occurred to her, too? Mr. Curtain suspected another snoop on the island — that was why he’d changed the door codes, after all. So what if . . . ?
“We need to think about this,” Reynie whispered.But Kate was already reaching for the keypad. “No time for thinking. He’s coming!”
“H-he?” I repeated. That was why Kate’s expression had changed. She’d heard something, and now Reynie and the others heard it, too — down in the main passage, growing louder by the second, an electric whine, a shifting of gears. . . . It was Mr. Curtain. They had no choice but to go through this door, even though I had no answer to his last burning question: What if it was a trap? 

#Yao

As the four of us slipped in the door, I hoisted Constance up onto my shoulders. She complained about being able to do it herself, but I climbed the wall. I did this by putting my feet into the wedges that was left in the wall. Soon, all four of us were on top of the ceiling.  Constance knew not to whimper, and we all watched as Mr Curtain walked in with S.Q. and Jerosh.

“Well, well,” Curtain said. He looked around the room.

“Sir, I think it’s that girl,” Jerosh said.

“What girl?” Curtain demanded.

“Kate Wethertat. No, Kate Wetherall. She seems suspicious,” Jerosh said. Curtain thought for a moment. But then, he shook his head.

“That girl couldn’t. The only way she could of known was if she talked to a prefect. Of course she couldn’t!” Curtain said.

“What about her two friends? George Washington and the Muldoon one?” S.Q. suggested.

“Those two? I’m thinking of making them prefects, idiot!” Curtain roared. I grinned. Our plan was working. However, Mr Curtain wasn’t giving up. He pulled out a flashlight and started shining it up arounds the large room. Finally, I could see what was in the room. There was a newspaper in the corner, and cobwebs all around. There was a door on the other end which had two pads on it for numbers. Slowly, Jerosh pulled out a cane. He slid open the can outside, to reveal a sharp sword. He gave it to Curtain, who watched around the room. Suddenly, he sliced a rope. At first, I didn’t care. But then, I realized the rope held a barge, a barge which Kate was standing on!

Kate didn’t know what to do. If she jumped, Mr Curtain would see her. But if she stayed there, she would get caught red-handed!

dUdU

I thought there was no Constance, or are we gonna add her in?

I watched the rope being sliced with gathering fear. I went to the back and thought. As Curtain would surely catch me, I couldn’t jump, and standing here getting caught was not an option. I suddenly realised that Curtain was making his way over to the barge and then the floor had sprung a leak in the back where I was standing. I knelt to widen the hole. It was about the size of my hip, so I widened further. I slipped through just as Curtain got on.
“Snakes and dogs! It’s sprung a leak!” he cried, waving for Jerosh to come over.
“What act of sabotage is this? It is unacceptable!” Curtain shouted. He leant over to inspect the hole, and I sharply dodged away.
“Swiss Army Knife. As I expected.” He gestured for S.Q. to come over.
“Check every student for an Army Knife. Report them back to me. It is an order, S.Q!” he whispered. But, seeing as I was only about a metre away, I heard it. I swam around to the front and took a small breath of air. I rummaged through my bucket until I found my knife. I went back under to throw it as Curtain may hear the splash if I threw it on the surface of the water. I swam back to the boys and climbed up, shivering. We rushed back to the trap where the boys gave me a towel.
“They’re searching the school for students with Swiss Knifes,” I said, shivering intermittently. The boys froze.
“Don’t you have an Army Knife?” Sticky asked. I, however, rolled my eyes.
“I threw it in the water, idiot. Remember, it was me who made a hole with an Army Knife,” I said. When I got back to my room, I took off my clothes. I put them on a radiator and fell asleep instantly.

#Bai

No, there won’t be a Constance.

As we peered back the next time, the bundle of newspapers were suspicious. They contained reports that were going to be sent in a day, week, and a month. They read, ““They’re planned press releases,” Reynie said, coming over to flip through the pile. “Articles Mr. Curtain intends to have printed in the newspapers. And they all have something to do with him. Look at the headline on this one from next week: ‘ESTEEMED SCIENTIST AND EDUCATOR APPOINTED TO IMPORTANT POST.’”
I groaned and took off his spectacles. “Will you read it aloud, Reynie? I’m afraid I need to polish these.”
And so Reynie read aloud:
LEDROPTHA CURTAIN, the recently named Minister And Secretary of all The Earth’s Regions (M.A.S.T.E.R.), had this to say about his new role: “The governments of the world have established my position as that of an advisor and coordinator in this time of crisis. Being a private man, I accept the honor reluctantly, believing it my duty.”
“That’s preposterous!” Kate said. “There’s no such position!”
“Apparently there will be. It says here that the governments have finally reorganized themselves in response to the Emergency.”
I spluttered. “But the Emergency is made up — it’s something Mr. Curtain created! I can’t believe every single —”
“That’s it!” Reynie cried, staring intently at the paper. He felt a wave of relief, quickly followed by alarm — as if he’d finally succeeded in translating hieroglyphics only to discover he’d translated a curse.

“What’s it, Reynie?” asked Kate. “The Emergency is the first step,” Reynie said, thumping the paper. “Mr. Curtain thinks fear is the most important element in human personality, remember? It’s why the Whisperer has so much appeal to Messengers — it soothes their fears, and Mr. Curtain uses that to motivate them. So what if he created a fear, a fear everyone would hold in common, a fear the entire public would share?”
“The fear that everything is hopelessly out of control,” Kate said.
“Exactly! Then his next step would be to soothe that fear with just the right message. The Messengers all love the Whisperer with a passion, right? Well, Mr. Curtain intends to make it so that everyone in the world will feel the way Messengers do!”
“Everyone will love the Whisperer?” Sticky said.
“No,” Reynie said. “Everyone will love him.”
Reynie was putting it all together now. “So those journal entries — the places where he seemed to be talking to himself — ‘Trust Ledroptha Curtain’ and all that. They were rough drafts!”
“He’s working on his new message,” Sticky said, finally understanding.
Kate couldn’t help but laugh. “You mean ‘Ledroptha Curtain Stops the Hurtin’ was an idea for a hidden message? That’s so lame!”
Reynie handed another press release to Kate. “Look at this one: ‘CURTAIN BEST MAN TO HANDLE BAFFLING AMNESIA EPIDEMIC.’”
“An amnesia epidemic?” Sticky said. Kate had moved down the table to rifle through a stack of pamphlets, shaking her head in disgust. “And here’s how he intends to pull it off.” She handed each boy a pamphlet. Reluctantly Sticky put his glasses back on, and in grim silence they all read the pamphlet. It was an official advisory from something called the Public Health Administration:

 

“Just what is Sudden Amnesia Disease (SAD)? SAD is an extremely contagious disease that causes total memory loss in those who contract it.

What’s being done about it? Although the origin and cure of this disease have yet to be found, they’re being investigated by a group of experts headed by none other than Ledroptha Curtain, the highly regarded scientist and our newly named Minister And Secretary of all The Earth’s Regions. SAD cases are admitted for free care at the Amnesia Sanctuary on Nomansan Island, a state-of-the-art facility where patients live comfortably, under strict quarantine, while the cure for their disease is sought.

Am I a SAD case? Are my neighbors? A common first symptom of SAD is the belief that one hears children’s voices in one’s head. The onset of this symptom is most sudden, and once it has begun, it persists without interruption until amnesia sets in.

Reynie flipped to the next page, which showed a picture of two smiling Recruiters. They had their hands on the shoulders of Jackson the Executive, who was trying his best to look miserable and happy at the same time. The photo caption read: “Already feeling better! A SAD case jokes around with our friendly doctors.”
Sticky had finished the pamphlet and hurried to the other table. “There are more over here, printed in dozens of languages!”
“I can’t believe it,” Kate said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

 

For Reynie it all made too much sense. The last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. “This whole thing,” he said bleakly, “the Helpers, the Recruiters, the Messengers — the entire Institute — it’s all been one big experiment to make sure his plan can work. Mr. Curtain has been practicing. The Institute will become the Amnesia Sanctuary — he needs a place to put all the people who resist him!”

 

#Yao

We couldn’t let that happen. So, I came up with a plan. The Whisperer was the one thing that would destroy the world. So, we had to disable it.

“But how?” Sticky asked me at lunch. I took a bite of my hot dog and thought for a moment.

“The Whisperer feeds on fear. So, we need somebody who is not afraid of anything,” I said. “Maybe, that will explode the machine!”

“Don’t count me in!” Sticky said. I wanted to say I was scared of nothing, but deep down, I was. I was scared being turned over to my aunt.

Kate thought for a while. She must have been listing all of the things she wasn’t scared of.

“Well, Kate?” Sticky asked. “My corn’s getting cold.”

“Hmm. I think I am scared of two things. Getting kicked out of the circus, and spiders,” she replied.

“Well, that takes our search elsewhere,” I said grimly. Sipping up the last of my lemonade, I gathered my things.

“Wait. Reynie, where else can we go? If we go around asking the Institute, that’ll be suspicious and risky. But who else?”

I thought for a moment.

“Wait. Remember the girl?” I asked.

“What girl?” Kate inquired.

“The girl that we met in the rec room last night. She’s staying here, but just for a short while. She isn’t even taking classes. Her name’s Constance. We might as well ask her. I mean, it’s a chance!” I told her. Kate took a bite of bread. The girl never had any gourmet food in the circus, and she was used to plain food. Her plate was full of bread with cheese and an apple with water.

“I concur, Reynie. It is a chance, after all. Constance will never tell. She doesn’t have a place to tell!” Sticky said. Kate thought for while.

“Fine,” she told us. I smiled, and left the room. That night, after yet another day of perfect grades, we finally approached Constance. The girl was sleeping in the room across Kate’s so it was easy to locate her. She was surprised when she saw us.

“What are you doing here? This is the girl’s dorm!” she said. We shushed her. The girl looked around ten years old. We dragged her to the rec room, despite her whining. Finally, to protect us from getting caught, Kate fashioned a cloth from a piece of cotton in her bucket. We covered Constance’s mouth with it. The poor girl must have thought she was being kidnapped.

Finally, we reached the rec room. Only one boy was there, reading under a light. We moved far away from him, and sat Constance down on a chair. The minute we removed the cloth, she began screaming loudly. We instantly placed the cloth back on. It went on like this until Sticky finally got tired. He told Constance that if she screamed one more time, he would stuff her face into a toilet. That got her attention, and she shut up the next time we pulled the cloth off.

“Do you know Mr Curtain?” Kate asked the girl. Constance nodded.

“He seems nice, right?” I asked. Constance nodded again.

“He’s not. That man is the twin brother of Mr Benedict, the man who sent us here. We are to make sure Curtain doesn’t destroy the world. And he will. With his invention, which is called ‘Whisperer’. It transmits messages into people’s minds. He plans to use it to dominate the world. The Whisperer rids fears. So, Constance, are you scared of nothing?” Sticky asked. But this time, she didn’t seem so sure.

#Yao (again)

Constance thought for a moment.

“I guess so. I mean, I’ve never even shivered from anything, except the time a bucket of cold water dumped itself all over me!” she said. I smiled. This was a success.

“Alright Constance. We’ll meet you again at lunch to discuss our plan,” Kate said, and we left her alone. It was a minute before nights out, and me and Sticky arrived at our rooms just as the first watch was about to inspect. He frowned at us, but couldn’t say anything since we were on time. Soon, I was fast asleep.

The next morning, me and Sticky woke up at the same time. It was quite weird, both of us putting on our clothes and eating eggs and bacon and pancakes at the same time. Normally, Sticky would get up early, dress quickly, go to the cafeteria to join “The Early Breakfast Club” and then read in the rec room along with some other kids who couldn’t sleep very well.

However, this morning, Sticky seemed to be quite worried about something. I wanted to ask him about it, but whenever I inquired, he would make up an excuse. Finally, I cornered him when we were about to head off to lunch, and made him talk.

“Oh, alright! Jerosh figured it out,” Sticky said miserably.

“He figured what out?” I said.

“That Kate’s cheating! He doesn’t have any real evidence, but, well, he noticed Kate’s grades have improved from B- to A++. Then, he noticed something queer. I use small cartoons to remember things sometimes. Well, Kate copied them down, so Jerosh is even more suspicious. Then, he noticed that when I made a few grammatical mistakes on the last essay, Kate made the same. He also sees the same on your papers. He knows!” Sticky moaned.

“Relax. As long as he doesn’t have any good evidence, he can’t show it to Mr Curtain!” I told Sticky. Sticky nodded. We headed off to lunch.

After I filled my tray with food, I found Kate and Sticky. Constance was already there. I sat down and looked at the three of them. Nobody said a word. Suddenly, Constance piped up.

“Well, are we going to talk?” she asked.

“I guess you already decided for us,” I told her, and showed her a map of our plan. She looked at it for a moment, then gawked at us as she put it down.

“You want to break into Curtain’s office and put me to some weird fear-making brain-erasing machine?” she asked.

“Well, yes,” Kate murmured.

“I’m not doing this,” Constance said, putting down the map and was about to leave our table when I offered something to her.

“If you do it, we’ll give you fifty dollars!” I told her.

“Five hundred,” she said.

“Fine,” I told her. She smirked and left us.

“Reynie, although bribing was a good idea and it worked, where will we get 500 dollars?” Kate asked. I sighed. I had no idea, and I wished I did. However, Sticky had already formed a plan.

“I figured it out. The prefects actually earn money. High prefects like Jerosh earn forty dollars a day. But if we get made prefects, we’ll only be low prefects, which earn twenty dollars. We have two weeks to pay Constance. Each day, we’ll earn sixty dollars altogether. So-” Sticky started.

“We’ll have enough by nine days!” Kate finished. I grinned. We needed to be prefects in order for the plan to work, so this was a win-win!

That afternoon, I felt someone watching us, spying on us secretly. Soon, I became annoyed by this feeling. I began walking as if nothing was wrong, and heard small footsteps behind me. Suddenly, I turned around, and saw my follower just about to sprint behind a trash can.

I finally saw her. It was Constance.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her. She was about to respond when I dragged her into the janitor’s room. There, I flicked a switch, and the light came on. I slowly put a finger to my mouth. Jerosh was walking through the hallways, and he was eating a burger. It seemed like he was having a late lunch or an early dinner.

Finally, Jerosh was out of earshot.

“Well?” I asked.

“Where’s my 500 dollars?” she asked.

dUdU

It was a moment of awkwardness. I nudged Reynie, and Reynie nudged Sticky. Finally, after a million nudges, Reynie piped up.
“Well, you see, we don’t actually have the money right now… we were going to pay you after you’d done it- not that we’d cheat you, of course,” he said sheepishly. Constance frowned. “I. Don’t. Care. I need the money, so you better give it now. And I charge interest, you know,” she said, holding her pudgy hand out. Reynie gave her $67, and I gave all my savings. Sticky gave her $32, which was all of his pocket money.
“$140. Poor. You’d better give me more after two weeks,” Constance said disapprovingly. I was suddenly overcome with a wave of fear.
“What if we can’t become Prefects in time?” I asked, worry bubbling inside my head. Reynie seemed not to hear this question or had ignored it. I let it go and eventually forgot about it.

When we went in for lunch, I suddenly realised something.
“Reynie, how is Curtain going to brainsweep foreign citizens?” I asked. Sticky answered for me.
“He’s got these memory terminals set up all over the world. They all have the same interior, and all are identical,” he said, chewing a piece of chicken. I groaned.
“…But they are all controlled by the buttons on Curtain’s arm piece on his wheelchair.” he finished. I punched the air in triumph. Then Jerosh came up to us.
“Up to Curtain’s office, all of you,” he said. And he did not look as if there were three new Messengers. Quite the opposite, in fact.

#Bai

“What have you three been doing? Have you been cheating?”
“No, sir.”
“Right. Then, what is this?”
He pointed at Kate and my test papers – each with exactly the same answers, even the same grammar mistakes!

mysterious benedict society
“I am extremely disappointed in you. You even had the urge to assault one of my students – Constance.”
This was impossible – Constance had told on us! But now how were we to destroy the Whisperer?
“I am going to lock you into the library – you will have nothing but books to learn with – to actually help you learn, instead of cheating and lying about it. Now Jerosh, take them. Now!”

We were taken to a library, with only a couple of books on loads of shelves and a heating vent. I immediately grabbed some books, but it seemed Kate had found a way out. “I’ll go by the heating vent. She proclaimed. And so she went.

Pulling back out of view, Kate eased her slingshot from her bucket, snugged a marble into it, then peeked around the corner again. She waited a long minute, then another. Finally the opportunity came: Jackson looked down to straighten his sash, muttering something to himself. It was now or never. Kate launched the marble down the passage. This is what happened. The marble shot over Jackson’s head, struck the stone floor in the distance with a satisfying click, bounced off the far wall, and skittered around the corner. Jackson spat out his licorice and barked, “Who’s there?” Not waiting for an answer, he ran down the passage and around the corner, and Kate dashed to the door he’d been guarding. Next to it was a numeric keypad. She hadn’t counted on that, but if Mr. Curtain hadn’t changed the codes again. . . . Her fingers flew across the numbers. The door opened. Kate leaped inside. Only then did she realize she was in an elevator. An elevator? Of course! How else would Mr. Curtain get up to the Whispering Gallery in his wheelchair? He must not let his Messengers use it — he did like his secrets, didn’t he? Probably enjoyed the thought of the children laboring up all those steps, too. As the door slid closed, Kate saw the tower steps through an open doorway across the passage. Jackson had been guarding both entrances. There were only a few buttons inside the elevator. They were unlabeled, but it wasn’t hard to guess that the top button would be for an entrance outside the Whispering Gallery, and the one below it — that would surely be the computer room. Kate stared longingly at the button . . . but of course she couldn’t press it. She couldn’t use the elevator. Jackson was sure to hear it. He was probably already coming back down the passage. And so Kate improvised. She emptied her bucket, flipped it over, and standing atop it on her tiptoes, unscrewed the maintenance panel above her. She’d never worked so quickly in her life. In no time she’d tied her rope in place, gathered her bucket and things, and disappeared though the panel into the elevator shaft above. No sooner had Kate replaced the panel below her than the elevator door opened. Kate held perfectly still. She heard Jackson grunt. The door closed again. Kate flicked on her penlight. The elevator cables stretched high above her, disappearing into blackness. She took off her shoes and socks, slid the socks over her hands to protect them, then put her shoes back on. With her penlight clamped between her teeth, she started up, wasting no time. She had a very long, very difficult climb ahead of her. It was a very long, very difficult way to go only to be disappointed. Despite the socks, the cable hurt her hands; the climb was exhausting; and when at last Kate came to a set of doors near the top, she found them impossible to pry open or peek through. Above them another set of doors (which must open onto the passageway outside the Whispering Gallery) proved equally immovable. Then, squeezing past the winch and machinery at the top of the elevator shaft (if the elevator had started just then, she’d have been killed), Kate discovered that a vent cover she’d spotted was welded shut. The vent was too tiny to climb through, anyway. She did manage to peer down through it, if only to make the following, discouraging mental notes:
In the foyer: two Recruiters, very big and dangerous-looking, both wearing shock-watches. Behind them: thick metal door, three manual locks in addition to an electronic keypad, one of the locks a combination. Air ducts: too small for Constance to fit through, even if greased. Ceiling: inaccessible. Windows: none.
No windows, Kate thought, and no hope for entry. She couldn’t even get to the room outside the computer room, much less into the computer room itself. It was hard to resist a sigh. She’d had grand visions of sabotaging the Whisperer, destroying its computers all by herself. Ripping out cables, crushing components, stealing mysterious gizmos that could not be replaced. Not only would she be regarded as a hero, she would prove once and for all that she could do everything alone — that she needed no one’s help. But now she saw she could do no such thing. Not this time.
Kate didn’t hear the rest. She was already easing her way down the elevator shaft again. She needed to beat Jackson back down so she could slip out. And then? What was this about a meeting with Mr. Curtain? Maybe the night didn’t have to be an entire loss. The trouble would be finding a way to eavesdrop on his office. Too risky going into the Institute Control Building. But maybe she could find another way. Then, she heard Mr. Curtain talking with Martina Crowe, the new Prefect which had been promoted just today.
“This is just grand! I can’t believe it!”
“Yes, the improvement will be just in two days’ time.”

But by then Kate had climbed down. This was dangerous. The improvement will be happening in just two days time.

#Yao

When we finally met up again together at the library, I was breathing hard. We had no plan to destroy the Whisperer anymore. As three metal trays were slid through a small door. As I ate my beef, I read through a book called “How to Escape a Library”, which included some very good details. Sticky was reading about something else, and Kate was using her bread roll as a ping pong ball. As the hours went by, I got further and further into the book. Soon, I knew what we had to do. Feeling around the floor, I suddenly grinned happily when I felt something. A loose board, I was sure. Slowly, I tried prying it loose.

However, it would not budge. So, I used Kate’s small knife. I wedged it through the loose crack, and this time, it budged. The tile came out, and a little hole could be seen where the tile had been. Quickly, I grabbed a spoon from my tray and started digging. Soon, Sticky saw what I was doing and scoffed.

“A spoon?” he asked. Kate saw us, and offered me an entrenching tool. The girl had everything. Soon, I was digging like mad. When I got tired, Sticky took over, and then Kate, and then back to me. This way, we were able to dig immense amounts of dirt without getting tired. Soon, there was a tunnel. We found it led another loose panel, and I pushed it open halfway. It was the cafeteria. There, only the lunch workers were still there. I climbed out of the tunnel, along with Sticky and Kate.

But now, the question was, what were we going to do?

dUfU

I was thinking. Hard. We were stuck in a tunnel, with a Prefect (Jerosh) on one side and Helpers on another. If we risked Jerosh, we might get put into a dirtless and mudless Waiting Room. If we got caught by the lunch workers… well, we’d have to experience it to know. I crawled out of the tunnel and dropped to a crouch. I ducked behind a table and beckoned for the boys. They weren’t so lucky. When Sticky tried a roll, his glasses fell off his nose. I got out my horse magnet, attempting to pull it out without making too much of a clamour, and pushed it as far as it would go without being seen. As the glasses started to shift towards the magnet, a Helper spotted the moving spectacles. She reached down to pick it up and rushed off towards the other Helpers. I heard the words “found” and “report” and “Curtain”, and I immediately started worrying.
“They’ve found Sticky’s glasses!” I whispered. I saw Sticky’s eyes widen, and Reynie slapped his forehead quietly.
“I wondered why everything was blurry,” he said, reaching out for his spectacles only to find they weren’t there. I sighed and bit my thumbnail. I suddenly had an idea. I vanished through the tunnel and made a beeline to Curtain’s office. I then heard a clatter and grinned. On my way here, I had poured oil on the floor. The glasses, however, slid into a tiny mouse hole that I was behind. I ran back to the Cafeteria, but Sticky and Reynie were gone.

#Bai

We were taken by Jerosh, who had seen us. Kate managed to slip me my glasses while pretending to walk in the corridor – and soon we were again taken to Mr. Curtain- who seemed furious.
“You again. I am extremely disappointed with you. First you cheat – and then you escape. I am going to have to punish you more severely now. Um, let’s think. Jerosh! Come tell me what you think.”
After a few whispers, Mr. Curtain told us something. “Jerosh here has said that to improve you, perhaps we have to make you Messengers. Very well. You shall be made Messengers. Your first duties will be after lunch.”

 

Jerosh pressed a speaker button on the wall. “Your new Messengers are here, sir.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Curtain’s voice through the speaker. The door slid heavily open. “What are you waiting for?” Jerosh said. He gestured impatiently, mumbling something about numbskulls not taking hints, and the boys stepped through the open doorway. The door slid closed behind them
“Very well,” said Mr. Curtain, when he saw that the boys understood, “you have been sufficiently briefed. And now the moment of truth. George, have a seat in the Whisperer. Reynard, you may observe from your cushion. If all goes well, the session should last about half an hour. Then you shall have your turn.”
I rose and approached the machine. His mouth went pasty and bitter-tasting as he recalled Mr. Curtain’s saying that the Whisperer could perceive thoughts. “To a certain extent,” he’d said — but to what extent? How much could it see? Would the Whisperer reveal him as a spy? I stopped and stared at the metal chair and the blue helmet, racked with indecision. Should I try to resist somehow? Try to mask my thoughts? Was it even possible? He had no way of knowing, and no time to consider.
“George?”
“Sorry, sir. Just . . . just savoring the moment.”
With clammy hands I took his seat in the chair. Mr. Curtain, meanwhile, zipped around to the rear of the Whisperer, reversing himself so that his back was to mine as he fitted the red helmet over his own head. “Ledroptha Curtain!” he barked. Instantly the blue helmet lowered itself onto my head, contracting to fit snugly against his temples. At the same time, metal cuffs popped out of the armrests and closed over his wrists.
“Never fear,” said Mr. Curtain. “The cuffs are only to keep you secure. Please relax.”
I took a deep breath and tried in vain to stop trembling. After a moment he realized it was his seat that trembled — the Whisperer was pulsing with energy. He closed his eyes.
Good, said a voice in his head. It wasn’t his own voice, nor was it Mr. Curtain’s. It was the Whisperer’s. Not unkind, but not friendly, either. Impossible to describe, it was simply . . . there. Good, it repeated. What is your name?
“Sticky Washington.”
“Your real name.”
“Fine, George Washington.”
I still wasn’t sure if he ought to resist a little. How much could the Whisperer detect? If he gave an inch, would it take a mile? He was trying to decide how to proceed when the Whisperer’s voice in his head said, Welcome, George Washington. Opening his eyes in surprise, I saw Reynie on his cushion watching with intense concern. I tried to concentrate. Of course — this wasn’t like talking. He hadn’t realized he’d thought his name, but once you were asked to think of your name, you couldn’t not think of it, no matter how you tried. Like the Whisperer’s voice, the answer was simply there. George Washington, what do you fear most? Snakes, I lied, trying to regain some control. Snakes made me nervous, but he wasn’t afraid of them. Certainly they were not what he feared most. That was something he didn’t want the Whisperer to know. But responding to my involuntary answer, the Whisperer said, Don’t worry, you are not alone. At once I was filled with an astonishing sense of well-being. He felt so good, so at peace, he could hardly hold his thoughts together. So this was why those other Messengers looked so happy, why they craved their sessions so intensely! When you did what it wanted, the Whisperer rewarded you by soothing your fears. I would never have guessed it could feel so wonderful.
I had another problem now. A very troubling problem. Having been made to feel so wonderful — and so easily, so unexpectedly — I found he wanted to give in to the Whisperer. Wanted it desperately. This was a disturbing development, and while he still had some trace of determination left — before he lost himself entirely — I decided he must learn something if he could.
Mr. Curtain? I thought. Can you hear me?
Let us begin, said the Whisperer.
Mr. Curtain, can you hear my thoughts?
Let us begin.
Mr. Curtain didn’t seem to be hearing him. So maybe the Whisperer could only seek out certain things and was incapable of detecting anything else. I had to hope so. Let us begin, the Whisperer repeated with an unmistakable hint of impatience. He could not put it off any longer. Okay, I thought, bracing himself. Okay, I’m ready.

#Yao

I sat squirming on my cushion as the Whisperer began slowly hypnotizing Sticky. There was nothing I could do. Soon, I saw Sticky in a relaxed manner, unlike his usual sweaty and fidgeting manner. I began dreading the moment that I would have to become the victim of the Whisperer. Luckily, that never came. At that moment, the door burst in. It was Milligan! Kate was following behind, with her trusty bucket by the side.

Milligan had two dart guns. Each one held two darts, and he fired one at Curtain. Curtain dodged, and pulled out his cane-sword. In a flash, he had sprung out of his wheelchair and began charging towards Milligan. Milligan fired another dart, and threw away the empty gun. He gave me the other one.

“Reynie, keep tight onto that gun!” he told me. He pulled out his belt, which was really a baton, and began dueling with Curtain in the middle of the room. I saw another Prefect sneaking up on Milligan with a knife, and I kicked him in the crotch. Stumbling, he fell to the floor. I grabbed his knife and plunged it into his stomach, his eyes still open as he bled to death.

Milligan was losing the battle. Curtain seemed to have studied swordsmanship, and he was dodging every blow by Milligan, and almost piercing Milligan’s body at times. Soon, Curtain had forced the man to a corner. After a delicate twist of his sword, Curtain disarmed Milligan, and quickly stabbed at his chest. Thankfully, Milligan had on armor, and the blade broke. Soon, it was a fistcuff battle. They were even this time. I wanted to pull pack the receiver of the dart gun and fire, but I was afraid that I was going to shoot Milligan. Soon, I saw Kate sneaking up behind Curtain as he was holding Milligan in a hold. She placed her bucket on top of Curtain’s head, and he stumbled around.

Finally, Milligan kicked Curtain in the stomach, and he fell backwards. Kate had placed herself behind the stumbling man, and tripped him. Curtain was flailing around, his kicks going everywhere. He was yelling and cursing, so I fashioned a makeshift face covering out of cloth. I covered Curtain’s mouth with it, and Kate bound him with her rope.

I sprinted out of Curtain’s office, along with the other. Milligan had hid a block of dynamite, and he placed it onto the Whisperer, lighting the fuse with a match. We were at a safe distance when we heard a loud kaboom. Prefects were rushing towards us, waving hidden weapons light pocket pistols and knives. One had even located a SCAR assault rifle, and was firing in our direction. Running backwards, I pulled out the dart gun, and fired it into his direction. I was aiming for his head, but it hit his neck. He fell down.

Milligan also had a sawn-off shotgun, and batons that let off electricity. He handed Sticky and Kate them, and gave me a dart.

“This one is an explosive one. If Curtain comes us with a vehicle, fire it and it will blow up,” he told me.

I grabbed the dart and stuffed it into my pocket. We were running towards the gate, where Mr Benedict, Number Two, and Rhonda were waiting in a large van. There was a man standing by the gates, and when he saw us, he pointed his large menacing pistol at me. Milligan didn’t want to kill, but he had no choice. He shot the man, and slid back the pump.

We had to scale the gates in order to reach the van, and Kate helped us with that. The girl had a rope with a hook at the end, and we lassoed it to the gate top. We each climbed the rope to the other side. Milligan fired his last five shotgun shells at the crowd of prefects, downing six. I still had my dart gun. Kate and Sticky each threw their knives towards the crowd, killing one and wounding another. I aimed my dart gun at a particularly beefy prefect, and fired. He fell down in a heap.

As we all climbed into the van, I slid my last dart into the gun, but clicked the safety. I couldn’t risk accidentally blowing up the van. The first five minutes of driving was quiet. But then, I saw something trailing us. It was a Jeep. The people inside were trying to corner us. But up ahead, there was an intersection. Just as Number Two was about to turn, another Jeep slid into the spot. She tried going left, but an army of Curtain’s men, including Curtain himself, were there, waving weapons. She had no choice but to go straight, but even that was blocked by a truck full of prefects. We were trapped. I saved my dart. I could blow up both the trucks!

Or could I?

Slowly, I looked. The Jeeps each had a fuel tank. Suddenly, my mind got an idea.

“Number Two!” I shouted over the hum of the trapped van.

“What?” she yelled back.

“We need to go over there! We need to drive towards the middle of those Jeeps!” I told her.

“What?” she asked. “No way. Too dangerous!”

“It’s our only chance!” I pleaded. With a sigh, Number Two revved the engine, and flew towards the middle of the Jeeps. They both were heading our way, the two of them sliding next to each other in order to block our way. My plan was working. Pulling out my dart gun and flicking off the safety, I aimed it right at the Jeep that was showing off its fuel tank. When the dart hit, the Jeep blew up into flames. Dead corpses littered the ground. Since the two Jeeps were right next to each other, the fire spread to the next one, and when the flames got to the fuel tank, well, let’s say it wasn’t good.

Now, there were two burning Jeeps on the ground, and the Prefects were running around like chickens, scrambling to rescue the wounded. We had a perfect lane. Number Two made her way straight out of the Institute. At last, we were free.

Plus, we had destroyed the thing Curtain was planning to use in order to dominate the entire world.

Sounds like a win-win.

dUfU

As we drove away, I realised that I could hear voices in my head. 

“Please shut the chatter,” I said, thinking that it was merely the others being loud. But as the voices grew fainter, I realised that everyone was dead silent. I clutched my head, the voices rising louder. I let out trembling breaths and screwed my eyes. I massaged my temples and started thinking. I looked up, and I could see the familiar pained grimace that I knew so well on everyone’s faces. I put my head in my hands, absorbed in the pain so that I didn’t realise what was going on. Thankfully, we had two walking brains in our society.

Reynie, however, noticed immediately what had been going on. He whispered something unintelligible to Sticky, and he nodded. Sticky nudged me and cocked his head at Reynie. I looked at Reynie and gestured for him to start explaining. 

“We haven’t destroyed the Whisperer yet,” he said. I frowned.

“Didn’t we already defeat the Whisperer?” I asked, confused. He shook his head.

“That’s the clever part. Do we actually know that the Whisperer exploded? he asked, with each word tension growing louder. I cocked my head to one side, bewildered. He slapped his forehead and sighed. 

“Look, Milligan put a block of dynamite in the Whispering Gallery, right?” I nodded. “But we cleared out before it exploded, right?” I nodded again. “Remember when you went to sabotage the Whisperer, but you couldn’t find the computers and gizmos and the shenanigans that control the Whisperer? That means that the computers are somewhere else, therefore suggesting that we did not blow them up.” The realisation washed over me. I turned around in my seat. I could see the smouldering ruins of the Jeeps and the Prefects with water buckets. I looked beyond that to the rubble and rubbish that used to be the Whispering Gallery. I muttered a sort of farewell and jumped out of the car.

#Bai

The Whisper still existed. We had made a terrible blunder – and if we didn’t fix this blunder, we would soon be overcome by Mr. Curtain and his fearsome machine which would destroy us. We jumped out, and ran back to the Institute, writing a quick message of Sorry in the car. Soon, we had arrived, and headed straight for the Whispering Gallery, and entered its now shattered door and rushed inside. There was a hole, about the size of a wheelchair. Kate whispered, “This is where they had gone.”
Rushing through, we found Mr. Curtain, still looking at his machine. “It was all because of you. You almost killed all my Prefects, and destroyed my Whispering Gallery. You are all fools. All-”
Mr. Curtain hadn’t finished, when Kate interrupted, “If we’re so foolish then what does that say about you? You made the boys Messengers even though they always intended to betray you, and we’ve tricked you again and again. We even know about your narcolepsy, though you tried so hard to hide it. If we’re foolish, then you’re the greatest fool of all, since we’re obviously much smarter than you!”
For a moment Mr. Curtain trembled violently, unable even to form words in his fury. Then his eyes closed and he sank back upon the floor. Kate had tied him up, and soon enough, he woke. Before he could say any more, there came a banging from the wall.
“Kate, Sticky, Reynie? There’s obviously a hidden entrance, so please open it.”
“Oh, yes. I do have a code. But first, you’ll have to find the keypad.”
“The wheelchair!” cried Reynie, dashing to Mr. Curtain’s chair to study its buttons. “I should have known you’d keep a secret exit. When it comes down to it, you’re not even half as brave as a child.”
Reynie was hoping his words would infuriate Mr. Curtain into sleep, but Mr. Curtain had prepared himself and was not so easily goaded. “You’re right. I give up,” he said slyly. “If you promise not to hurt me, I’ll tell you which button to push. It’s the middle one there on the right arm.”
“Sure it is,” said Reynie, who recognized the button. Pushing it would admit the Executives. He studied the other ones. “Let’s see, this one’s for the intercom — I saw you push that one, too — and these levers are obviously for the wheels and brakes, so that leaves . . . this one!” He held his finger above an inconspicuous silver button.
“You’re right,” Mr. Curtain said with a dramatic sigh. “That’s the one.”
Reynie grinned. “You want me to think you’re trying to trick me. But you can’t trick me that way, either.”
Mr. Curtain scowled, Reynie pressed the button, and an electronic keypad popped into view on the wall above Kate’s head.
“Well done, my miserable young spies,” said Mr. Curtain haughtily. “You’ve found the keypad. What a pity you don’t know the code.”
“Try 3507,” Reynie said. Kate reached up to enter the code. “Oh, no! There aren’t any numbers! It’s all letters!”
Mr. Curtain smiled an oily, self-satisfied smile. “You must have got that number from one of my Executives. I admit I’m impressed. However, I’m afraid not even my Executives know the code to my secret exit.”
“Maybe we can guess it,” I ventured.
Mr. Curtain shook his head as if he pitied us. “Do you not see the pointlessness of your efforts? Even if you managed to escape the island, you would have accomplished nothing. Moreover, you can be assured my Prefects would come for you. You would be captured by nightfall, and by morning you would be calling me your master. You will be under my complete control!”
“Thank you!” Reynie burst out, his face brightening.
Mr. Curtain was startled. “Thank me?”
“You’ve given me an idea! Aren’t you always saying that control is the key?”
Mr. Curtain snorted with contempt, but from the look of fury in the man’s eyes, Reynie felt he’d struck the right note. “Kate, try the word ‘control.’”
Kate poked the keys deliberately, calling out the letters as she typed: “C-O-N-T-R-O-L.”
Nothing happened. Mr. Curtain chuckled. “Reynard, you pathetic fellow, did you honestly think you were smarter than I? Did you truly believe you could guess my code? ‘Control,’ indeed. Oh, bravo. Bravo, bravo. Three cheers for Reynard Muldoon!”
“I thought we’d try English first,” Reynie said thoughtfully. “But since you’re so proud of your home country, I think we’ll also try Dutch.”
Mr. Curtain’s jaw dropped. Then, trying to cover his consternation, he said, “As if you could possibly know —”
Reynie interrupted him. “Sticky, how do you spell ‘control’ in Dutch?”
“Same as in English,” I replied. “Only with an E on the end.”
“Here’s hoping,” Kate said, reaching up to tap the E key.
“Snakes and dogs!” howled Mr. Curtain, before falling into a peaceful sleep.

#Yao

Mr Curtain began napping and snoring like a baby. As soon as Kate touched the E key, something whirred in a mechanical manner, and Curtain’s desk slowly folded itself as if it was paper. The ground opened open, and I could see the large drop. Then, an elevator came up. As Kate, Sticky, and I boarded the elevator, it began slowly moving. Then, it stopped.

“ID and password please. Three figures have been detected with heat monitor. Only Ledroptha Curtain should have access to this part of the Institute,” a computer voice said. We all stopped. A password?

“Control?” I guessed. I supposed Curtain would place his beloved Dutch version of control for the secret passageway, and the American version in his elevator.

“Correct. Please state ID Voice recognition now opening,” the voice said again. This time, we all gulped. None of us sounded like Mr Curtain.

“Curtain, Ledroptha,” I said in my lowest voice.

“Failed to identify. Self-destruct mode is turning on in 5,4,3…” the voice told us. We were doomed, but then, Kate grabbed out her Swiss Army knife. She plunged it straight into the control panel of the elevator. The voice kept counting down, but it was much more static than before. I saw what Kate was doing. She was messing up the mechanism of the elevator. Quick as lightning, I jammed my boots into the panel, and Sticky did the same. Just as the last second was halfway through, the elevator shut down.

It was great that we weren’t going to explode, but there was also a bad side. Now that the elevator wasn’t working, we were stuck in the middle of a tunnel that still stretched for hundreds of feet all the way to the bottom, in a elevator that didn’t work. If you haven’t figured it out, we plunged deep into the tunnel.

I was screaming most of the way down, scaring myself to death. Sticky was screaming even louder. Only Kate was composed. She quickly tied a rope to the supporting rail that held the elevator, and tied rope around herself and the two of us. She exited the elevator, and slowly lowered herself down, inch by inch. Pretty soon, Sticky and I had stopped screaming. We weren’t going to both die before we turned 12.

As we got closer and closer to the ground, I realized what this deep underground room was. It was the place that Curtain went to whenever he needed to spy on his students. The man had hidden cameras all over the Institute, and there were students lolling around the courtyard just now on one of the big screens. But there was another big set of computers, one that was shut down. Slowly, I ventured towards it. Then, I realized what this was.

This was the computer that controlled the Whisperer. I wanted to tear it down, but I knew we needed at least a giant block of C-4 and a dozen bundles of TNT. No. We needed to discover the source for the Whisperer’s power, and destroy it. So, I grabbed the still warm ham sandwich on the table and began typing away on the computers. Sticky was twice as fast as me. Kate was very slow; the circus didn’t have a speed typing act. She told us she would rather watch the cameras. For two hours, everything went fine. Then, our phones rang.

“Hello?” Sticky said into his. He listened for while.

“Guys, it’s Milligan. He wants to know you’re safe and where we are!” Sticky told us.

We each said hello to Milligan as proof that we were still alive and breathing, and then we told him we had discovered a secret room. Milligan was happy we were safe, but a bit disappointed we had never contacted him. We left out the near death elevator situation, since we didn’t want him reprimanding us any more. Despite Milligan being an international secret agent for the smartest man on earth, he was still overprotective at times.

After hanging up, we once again began typing. This time, my hands were becoming soggy with sweat. I had offered Sticky half of my sandwich, which he took eagerly. Suddenly, Kate cried out.

“Guys, you need to check this out,” she told us.

“What?” I asked, going over. Sticky followed me. Kate pointed to the most center camera. It was Curtain’s office. Then, she pointed to the camera to the left of it. It was the left side of the corridor closest to the office. Then, she pointed to the right. It was the right side of the corridor closest to the office. There, in the office, I could see a snoring Curtain. But on the left camera, I saw an army of Ten Men, some carrying shock watches, others having laser pens or necktie whips. On the right corridor was even more Ten Men.

Curtain must have pressed a button somewhere on his desk right before our first attempted destroy of the Whisperer. It probably gave a signal to the Ten Men to come to his office. Now, they were doing just that. Soon, they would slide down from ropes and whip us or shock us or fry us to a crisp. Sticky turned on his “finding information as quick as possible” mode. His fingers flew across the keyboard and mouse, tapping into that file, opening a document. Finally, he returned triumphant.

“There’s a wire that’s connected to this computer,” he said, pointing to the center one. “We have to destroy it.”

Then, at that moment, Milligan burst into the room, followed by Rhonda, who held a hammer, and Number Two, who was trying her very hardest to imitate a kung fu master, but was failing miserably.

“Milligan! How’d you find us?” I asked.

“There’s another way in. Through the sewer!” Milligan told us.

“Milligan, we need to destroy this wire,” I told him, holding it up. Milligan pulled out a lump of C-4, cut out a tiny piece, and attached it to the wire. He lit the fuse and waited there. He explained that such a small piece wasn’t any need to run away. Sure enough, once the wire exploded, Milligan was only covered with ashes.

dUfU

(r we gonna end this soon?)

I rubbed my eyes and checked my ears. All fine. I itched my neck and then walked over to the boys who were huddled in a small duo. Reynie pulled me in.
“What do we do now?” I asked. Then, Mr Benedict came in. He beckoned to us. Something didn’t seem right, though. Sticky was running to Mr Benedict. I pulled him back. He frowned at me.
“What was that for? It’s Mr Benedict!” I set him behind me, and Reynie held him back. By the way he was looking curiously at ‘Mr Benedict’, I judged that he had the same feeling. ‘Mr Benedict’ beckoned to us again.
“Come on now, children. We don’t have all day!” he cried and turned on his heel. Sticky was struggling to go after him. Reynie held onto him tighter. I could see that ‘Mr Benedict’ was getting impatient.
“Come on, you little brats! I can’t stay any longer!” I could see that everyone (except Reynie and I) was shocked. ‘Mr Benedict’ hastily corrected himself.
“I mean, Come on children, let’s go home,” he said unconvincingly. I rolled my eyes.
“As if,” I said. “Do you think that we are going to go with you? Do you genuinely think that we are simple minded fools?” Mr Curtain smiled.
“Oh yes, I do,” he said. I shook my head, unbelieving. He smiled again and clapped his hands.

Nothing happened. Reynie was shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Curtain scowled. He clapped his hands again. Still, nothing happened. Then, an identical copy of Curtain walked in. I couldn’t tell if this was Curtain’s plan or if this was just Mr Benedict. I soon figured the answer my looking at Curtain’s face. It was a mixture of surprise and outrage.
“Nothing is going right for me today! Snakes and dogs, I even washed my clothes for this occasion!” Then he fell into a peaceful sleep.

#Bai

 

Despite the fact that the Whisper had been destroyed, and that we would never fear being brainsweeped ever again, Mr. Curtain and his gang were still on the loose, and that solely meant trouble. Mr Benedict mentioned to us that he and Number Two would eventually leave on a research project, and then they would go on an exhibition to find a new plant, known as duskwort. This plant had magical properties, and I had read about in book number 5839, in Mr. Benedict’s study. Often there was a myth that when some vikings invaded a small village, everyone was asleep, and that was because of a single piece of duskwort. Soon, a month later, they had left, but disastrous news struck!
A letter was received in a post, the person who delivered it wore a suit – presumably a Ten Man. All he left was a letter.
Dear Miss Kazembe,
I write to report that your friends are in grave danger, and — lest there be any doubt — that it is I who endangers them. Let me explain. Despite his efforts to keep silent on the matter, my prisoner, Nicholas Benedict, has been compelled to reveal a secret regarding a certain rare plant. According to his reluctant confession, “only one person can secure the information” I seek — namely, the exact location and description of the plant — and this person is neither Benedict nor his yellowish assistant but someone, regardless, who is “extremely close” to Benedict. I know for a fact that he is telling the truth. I must assume that if you are not this person yourself, you will at least know of whom he speaks. For Benedict’s sake, I certainly hope so. You have exactly four days to release this pigeon with the information I require. Be assured that if you attach any tracking devices to the bird, or make any sort of attempt to follow it to its destination, I will know. Such treachery will not bode well for your friends. If you hope to see either of them again, you will give me exactly what I wish, and without delay. Oh, do not delay, Miss Kazembe. We shall all be most unhappy if you delay.
Cordially,
L. Curtain

However, Mr Benedict had left us one single clue to start off. 

Welcome, children. You will find your next clue at the castle of Sticky’s name. Be at the top flag at exactly 2 O’clock to find your next riddle.  

“That’s easy,”I proclaimed, “it’s called St. George’s castle, in Lisbon.”
“But what about the top flag? And why 2 O’clock? And shouldn’t the flag be inaccessible, or we’re not allowed to go there?”
“Good point.” replied Kate.
Suddenly, the idea hit me. “In a book, they mean the shadow, not the real thing. So we have to get to Lisbon!”
“How?” Reynie asked.
I turned the paper upside down, and slipped three tickets to the Shortcut, the world’s fastest ship. But the question was, how did we escape the house?

#Yao

I was excited and scared at the same time. Finally, I would be able to do something on my own, but if I didn’t do it right, my mentor would die. But I couldn’t get ahead of myself. First, we had to get out of the building without Number Two, Milligan, or Rhonda finding out. Soon, Kate, Sticky and I had already devised a clever plan.

First, I went to Milligan’s room, which was easy to locate because it had Milligan’s name written on the door. I felt guilty going into my protector’s bedroom, but it had to be done. Slowly, I looked around the impeccably clean room, and suddenly, I found what I was looking for. A loose tile. Slowly, I pressed it. The walls split open, and it revealed a wall of racks full of dart guns, regular guns, sleeping medicine, poison, and regular spy stuff.

I looked at the medicine, and found what I looking for. Sleeping medicine. Slowly, I grabbed it, and quickly closed the two walls. Now, it was Kate’s turn to do something naughty. From close observation, we had learned that Number Two never slept, and therefore was a great secretary, but had one weakness. She was always hungry, and had to eat. Kate had stolen her schedule of food, and at 2:00 pm, she would be munching on fish and chips. She had already bought them at 1:45, and had left them on the counter to cool. Kate snuck up to the kitchen, poured three drops into the food, and left. We silently watched as Number Two arrived and began shoving food into her mouth.

As the last piece of fried cod went down her throat, her eyes bulged out of their sockets, and she suddenly fell into a deep sleep. Making Rhonda sleep was more difficult. She only ate at meals, so we waited until dinner. The expression on her face told us she knew about Mr Benedict, but she tried to be cheerful. As we all sat down, Rhonda noticed an empty chair.

“Where’s Number Two?” she asked. We all looked at each other, and Rhonda became suspicious.

“Umm…We saw her going out to buy some fish and chips at 1:45. Maybe she isn’t back yet!” I said. That was true. I had caught a glimpse of Number Two as she went out the door to buy some fish and chips. And it could be possible she wasn’t back yet. The only thing was, I knew she wasn’t still out.

“Oh well. Let’s save some big portions for her,” Rhonda said, sticking her fork into her tender steak. I had a club sandwich, mashed potatoes, and salad. Kate had a cheese, ham, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on a baguette. Sticky…well…Sticky had his book and two slices of bread. As we all ate eating, I suddenly told Rhonda what me, Sticky, and Kate had rehearsed.

“Rhonda, I heard a noise in the attic two hours ago. Could you please go and investigate?” I asked.

“Sure, as soon as I finish dinner,” Rhonda answered, swallowing. I groaned in my own head. This wasn’t going well.

Just then, Rhonda surprised us.

“I made cookies!” she said, bringing out a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She poured us each a glass of milk, then gave herself some cookies. Just as she was about to bite into her first one, Plan B was activated. Kate used her phone to phone Rhonda’s phone. The ring-ring of her phone, which was still her room, surprised Rhonda. She dropped her cookies and went upstairs. Just then, so Rhonda wouldn’t discover who had phoned her, Kate hung up.

By then, I had already squeezed drops of the medicine into Rhonda’s cookies and her milk. When Rhonda came back, she had a confused look on her face.

“What happened?” I asked innocently.

“The person who was trying to call me hung up for some reason just as I entered the room!” Rhonda said, taking a bite of her cookie.

“Wow, what bad luck,” Kate chimed in. Rhonda took another bite and sip of her milk. Keep going, I urged myself.

“Well, what are you planning today?” I asked her.

“Nothing much. Just filling out papers, making sure Number Two gets home before the lasagna she loves so much gets cold, that sort of stuff. Anyway, why are you guys staring at me?” she asked as she ate another cookie and drank all of her milk.

“Oh! Sorry!” I said. Soon, the medicine would run. Until then, we had to act sweetly.

“Well, alright. It’s-” Before Rhonda could say it was alright, her head thunked as it hit the wooden table. The medicine had worked. Kate grabbed the cookies and wrapped it in a bag, along with the lasagna that was supposed to be for Number Two. It was just in case we were hungry. After that, it was time to set off for the Shortcut.

dUfU

I ran out of the door, gesturing for the boys as I did so. Then I was confused. 

“Where does the Shortcut dock?” I asked. Reynie paused. Sticky answered.

“It’s docking at Stonetown Harbour soon. We’ve got to go!” I slung my bag higher on my shoulder and picked up the pace. Being older and naturally more extensive than the boys, I could walk longer distances faster. 

When we reached Stonetown Harbour, Reynie and Sticky were panting. I scanned the harbour for the Shortcut. I found it easily. It was the largest ship in the quay, positively towering over other cruises and cargo ships. I could see Sticky edging away from the boats. I rolled my eyes and pulled him back. Well, I was about to. Before I could reach out my hand, a barrel-chested man whizzed up to us. He was dressed in quite a rumpled blue uniform and cap, but he shouted to us in a friendly manner. I was taught to not talk to strangers, so I was a little hostile at first.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” I asked. He smiled at us and shouted and answer over the din. 

“I’m Joe Shooter, but you can call me Cannonball.” he smiled again and motioned for us to step in his motorized cart. I glanced at Reynie, but he didn’t seem to notice. Then he stepped in. I glanced at Sticky. He shrugged at me and stepped in. If they think it’s alright, then it must be right, I thought. I stepped in and took a seat. The seat was made of wood, and it was barely holding together. I overturned my bucket, instead, and sat on it. I handed the tickets to Cannonball, and he smiled again.

“You don’t need them. You’re the guests of the captain!” he said. I took the tickets and put them in a pouch in my bucket. When we drew up to the ship, a person stepped out. Not the captain, no, but a man dressed in a distinctive suit. And the scent of his spicy cologne drifted to us in the wind.

#Bai

It was a ten man. There could be no doubt. The smell of the cologne, the unmistakably large briefcases, most likely containing many weapons. The two watches, sitting like an electrocutor on the person’s wrist. He smiled at us and waved, but then Cannonball was no longer watching us. The question was, would he try anything in the middle of Stonetown Harbour?
“Hello, ducky. On your way to a ship? I might as well hurt you, Kate.”
“You don’t have to do that!” Reynie cried. “Don’t hurt her! We’ll give you the papers! The clue!”
“Oh dear, I know you’ll give me the papers,” said the Ten Man with an expression of mock pity. He extended both spidery hands toward Kate. “But once I’ve started something, you see, I like to f —”
Kate sprang. A direct attack was not what the Ten Man had expected, and he flinched in surprise as Kate lunged forward just managing to block the ten man’s shockwatch with her bucket. I saw the wires flickering like snakes’ tongues as they recoiled into the Ten Man’s watches. At the same time he saw Kate bring her other hand around — the one she’d had behind her back — and swing it up toward the man’s face. Reynie had thought she was hiding the paper with the address on it. Now he saw it was a small bottle, the contents of which she splashed into the Ten Man’s eyes. It was lemon juice, what Kate had kept in her bucket just after we had beaten Mr. Curtain.
“I hope you like lemon juice!” Kate said as the man howled and covered his face. Already she had dropped the bottle, grabbed the briefcase, and flung it across the room at Reynie, who saw it flying toward him with alarm. He was not the most athletic of children, and he felt lucky indeed when he managed to catch the briefcase before it knocked his teeth out. It was quite heavy, and Kate had thrown it with a great deal of force. Reynie had managed to dump it into the harbour, and the ten man walked toward the sound, and ended up into the water.
Following Cannonball again, we found the Shortcut, and the Captain, Captain Noland. He took us onto the ship, a shiny metal boat with oak wooden floor boards. We entered a cramped cabin – there were three bunks, each with just a pillow and a duvet, and Captain Noland whispered to us, “I’m sorry we couldn’t get you a larger cabin. There are some test subjects, who want to know my competence. So, they have placed me with a box of uncut diamonds. So, I have to bring it with a not very kind person. Anyway, I will come to talk to you later.
I took a nap. Reynie started wondering when we could eat. Kate jumped from bunk bed to bunk bed. Finally, about four hours later, Captain Noland came with a batch of salmon sandwiches. He started explaining to us. “We will dock in Portugal in two more days. There, you can go wherever you need to go.”
“Were you friends with Mr. Benedict?”
“Yes, I was. Wait. Sorry. I have some disasters on the bridge. I’ll come back for you in a minute.”

 

#Yao

The next few days on the Shortcut were boring. I was playing checkers with Sticky and Kate was sleeping. Suddenly, the Captain knocked on our door. He brought us three cups of mysterious liquid and biscuits and salmon. I took a bite of salmon, and then a bite of biscuit. The Captain also gave us a can of candies. Sticky didn’t eat anything except an unsweetened candy.

Kate didn’t try to eat the fish, but she nibbled on her candy. Slowly, I took a cup of the brown liquid. Sticky took one just to be polite, and Kate took one because she thought it was hot chocolate. Sticky took a small sip of his cup, and instantly looked like he was going to throw up. Kate, still thinking it was hot chocolate, took a giant swig and instantly regretted it. She instantly wanted to spat it out, but when she saw the Captain and Cannonball watching, she swallowed it with great difficulty. Watching them both, I slowly put my cup behind me.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. You see, there are some extremely snobby connoisseurs on this boat, and they are here to ensure I get the diamonds to safety. I’m afraid you can’t come up whenever the gentlemen are up on deck,” the Captain told us.

“I call ’em bullfrogs!” Cannonball said, sniggering. I laughed. Kate was just recovering from her disgusting drink incident.

“I’m terribly sorry for any inconveniece. I also have your mid-day meals!” the Captain told us, giving us fried fish with fish sticks. I was getting sick of fish.

Every day, there was boiled fish and sizzled fish for breakfast. During lunch, there was a choice of fried fish with fish sticks or fish sandwiches with fish flavor-infused chips. Dessert was always a plain cake with sardines on top. Dinner was always fish with fish on top.

But this time, I was extra hungry, especially after five rounds of checkers and six rounds of chess with Sticky. He even offered to teach me how to play Chinese chess, but I declined his offer.

The Captain was about to leave. Cannonball stayed behind.

“Um-Cannonball?” I asked.

“Yeah, mate, what’s up?”

“What is the stuff in the cups?” I asked.

“Why, that’s the ol’ navy coffee!” Cannonball answered.

“Is it bitter?” Sticky asked.

“Heck, yeah it is. I love it though!” Cannonball said, bring out a canteen that was probably full of the yucky liquid. He took a big loud sip, and said good day to us. Then, I noticed that Kate hadn’t touched a bit of fish.

“Kate, why aren’t you eating?” I asked.

“Uh…I’m just not hungry!” she said, nervously.

“Kate??” Sticky asked, eyeing her. Finally, she broke down.

“I hate fish!” she finally exclaimed.

“Well, what have you been eating this whole boat ride?” Sticky asked.

“I ate the food we packed,” Kate said, looking down at her feet.

“Kate! That food was our emergency ration!” I cried out at her.

Kate looked sheepishly at the ground.

“Oh well. At least we have some euros. We can even save our meals to create new rations,” I said. Sticky glared at Kate, and Kate was upset and mad at him.

As the hours passed, I became sleepy. There were two pieces of caramel, four pieces of gummies, and three pieces of chocolates left in the tin. Kate and me split them up. Sticky wasn’t talking to Kate, and he wouldn’t have wanted sweets anyway.

Soon, I fell asleep. But in the middle of the night, I heard something. Kate was up too, and Sticky had been reading. His spectacled eyes were now wide with fear. Slowly, I heard grappling guns firing. Somebody was boarding the Shortcut. And these men weren’t here for the fish. They were here for the diamonds.

Slowly, we watched five men in masks and armed with knives and pistols slowly enter our room. We were as silent as mice. The robbers didn’t notice us. They were quickly moving out the door. After the last one was out, Sticky gulped.

“We have to help the Captain defend the diamonds!” Kate told us.

“But why? They’re his diamonds!” Sticky pointed out.

“Listen, both of you. The Captain is a kind man and he is an old friend of Mr Benedict. We have to help them. Besides, if the robbers succeed the bullfrogs will stop the Shortcut. Then we’ll have to find another route!” I said.

Sticky finally got over his fear.

“I think Cannonball told us that if there were ever pirates, there were daggers and a double barreled shotgun under each of our beds,” I said.

We each reached under our beds, and sure enough, we found dirks and shotguns.

“Now, let’s go kill some pirates!” I said.

“Wait, we’re not actually going to kill them right? Do any of you know the Coast Guard’s number?” Sticky inquired.

“Shaddup,” I told him.

dUfU

We burst out of the door and headed out of the room. I had two knives (dirks, Reynie called them) and a shotgun with 15 pieces of ammunition. Reynie had a dirk and a double-barreled shotgun with 13 bits of ammo. Sticky had a pistol with four bullets and two dirks. I took down two men with my gun (wasting three shots), and Sticky wounded a man with his pistol. Reynie finished the man and killed another. Only one man left. I whipped around, ready to shoot. I saw the tip of a boot peeking out from behind a crate. I hit it, and the man leapt up in pain. Sticky pierced his arm, and Reynie finished him.
“That was fun,” I said. Sticky wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Reynie blew on the top of his shotgun (to be cool, I thought) and tucked it under his arm. I looked at the clock in the hallway.
“Crikes! It’s nearly ten! We better get to bed before Cap finds us!” I whirled around on my heel, only to be faced by a well-dressed brat.
“Oh no, no, no, duckies! It’s past your bedtime, you should be in bed!” he said, clucking his tongue at us. “Oh, and why are you holding such dangerous weapons?” he asked, shaking his head in mock despair. I glared at him.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” I said, narrowing my eyes. He shook his head again.
“Tiss, tiss, tiss. You are a stubborn one, aren’t you, ducky?” I punched him, but he deflected the blow with his arm. I swung my other hand around to rootle around in my bucket. My fingers felt the freshly refilled bottle of lemon juice. Reynie saw what I was doing, and he flung himself on the Ten Man and ripped his sunglasses away. He dropped them and jumped on them, rendering them useless.
“What are you doing, ducky? They were new from Primark!” he said, fixing us with a mockingly stern stare. I had unscrewed the lid and flung the contents of the bottle on his eyes.

#Bai

I knew who this ten man was. Milligan had mentioned him before. The leader of all the Ten Men, McCracken was also the most elusive (Milligan had never laid eyes on him), and I now had the dubious honor of meeting him before Kate’s father did. He was an imposing figure – a huge man with shoulders like bedside tables, perfectly coiffed brown hair, and piercing blue eyes – but his reputation was more imposing still. According to Milligan, McCracken was the most dangerous Ten Man of all, and now here he stood, smiling at them in the darkness.
“Hello, chickies. Should I harm you, Kate? You’re always the most dangerous.”
“Leave her alone,” I squeaked, his words inaudible although I had intended to shout. McCracken didn’t even notice he’d spoken. I swallowed, trying to find my voice. I was experiencing something close to a breakdown, not from fear (although I was certainly afraid) but from an overwhelming feeling of shame. All thought of pride or personal safety had long since flown from me now. The only thing I wanted was to save my friends from whatever lay in store as a result of my terrible blunders. Yet I had no means of saving them – my talents were of no use here – and my mind was spinning in a tumult of frustration and despair.
But Kate had dealt with him. Her new lemon juice bottle, which she used (or was going to use) to send letters to Mr Benedict while they were on their investigation – so that “the government snoops” as Kate used could not read her messages.
Still, after Kate spilt the juice onto the ten man’s eyes, and Reynie pulled off his handkerchief and threw it onto the man’s nose – he was out like a light. Collapsing immediately, we dumped him into the water, just as he woke up. “Chickies! What are you doing?” and was dumped down.
After the Shortcut had docked, we jumped down and headed straight for the castle. There, “Get ready to run,” Reynie said. He heard the other two suck in their breath.
Kate was shaking her head, feigning incomprehension. The mother had grabbed her arm, trying to make herself understood. Finally, with an apologetic smile and an artful twist of her arm, Kate got away. But it was a costly delay. Reynie knew it, and from the expression on Kate’s face, she knew it too. She was walking purposefully, but she couldn’t risk running. Reynie looked to see if Jerosh had noticed her.
Jerosh hadn’t. But Martina had.
“Did he notice me?” asked Kate.
“Martina did,” Reynie said. “We need to go.”
“Martina?” I cried.
Kate snatched the shovel from Reynie. “Move it, then! I’ll meet you outside the gate.”

But what were we to do next?

#Yao

Martina and Jerosh, two of Curtain’s most prized Messengers, were leading a group of Ten Men towards us. We had to think fast if we wanted to survive. Suddenly, I saw a food cart without a person to its attendance. I motioned for Sticky and Kate to join me there, and we hid behind the cart. The three of us were all hungry, and it was so good to see something that was not fish or coffee. We found a lone churro in the cart, and I divided it with a plastic knife.

The three of us devoured our sections, but as I was swallowing, I saw an absurd expression on Kate’s face. She was so pale I thought she was dead. I thought she was dead, as if the fingers of death had, for no reason, reached and grabbed her.

But a few moments later, she began coughing and spluttering. I was glad it wasn’t poison, but didn’t understand why she would choking on something. Sticky reached out and kicked her lightly in the stomach, which made her spit out a piece of paper.

“Thanks, Sticky,” Kate said, and picked up the piece of paper. On it read:

“Un der lin e co mpo sit e s hg fhgod fjgh thern ght baak yu ag en,” Sticky read, trying to pronounce the weird symbols.

“What does that mean?” Kate stood up after realizing Martina was gone.

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging.

“Why is it separated into small snippets of unintelligible figures?” Sticky asked, cocking his head.

“If you look closer, you’ll see that the first few snippets spell out ‘Underline composites’,” I told Kate.

“That’s it! This note must be a coded message from Mr Benedict!” Kate cried.

“But, we don’t know how to decipher it!” Sticky told her.

“No, but I have a good idea. The first few snippets spell out two word, but the rest are complete rubbish. So, maybe Mr Benedict was trying to get us to underline the composites!” Kate explained.

“But, composites are associated with numbers! We have a bunch of weird symbols!” I said.

“That’s true, but what if you turned each word into numbers?” Kate said.

“Wait a minute. I think Kate’s right! You see, the first ‘word’ is labeled 1, the second is labeled 2, and so on, until the last is labeled 9!” Sticky cried.

“If we do that, we get the message ‘Thernbaakagen’,” I said.

The two of us turned to Sticky, who thought for a moment.

“Well, it is a village,” Sticky finally said after a long moment.

“Great!” Kate shouted.

“I never finished my sentence. The village is in Holland,” Sticky told her.

“Not great,” Kate said.

“Holland? How will we get there?” I asked.

“I could get ahold of the train schedules,” Sticky said.

“Good, Sticky. After that, we’ll be able to get to Holland!” I said.

Sticky read the schedule, and noticed a train that was leaving Portugal for Holland.

“It arrives at a train station about ten miles from the village. We can rent bicycles to get there after the train!” Kate said. So, we set voyage for the train station. The station was loud and crowded, and most of the people there seemed sympathetic to us, as if we were a bunch of orphans trying to get onto a train. But Mr Benedict had left us two thousand euros, and we had only spent five, four on cheesy nachos and one on the train schedule. The ticket was expensive, costing forty euros for children and sixty for adults. The station had a rule that if any child was above the age of 11, they would have to have a parent with them.

This provided a nuisance. Kate was only twelve, and couldn’t pretend she was eighteen. So, we had to do it the tricky way. After using 120 euros to purchase our ticket, we took our tickets and followed a women that looked quite moderate. This way, we looked as if we were simply stubborn adolescents that refused to hold their mother’s hand while they boarded a train.

The man collecting the tickets didn’t look twice at us, but when we handed over our tickets, the man counted the money and said it wasn’t enough.

“What do you mean?” Kate asked.

“The train has two section. Both are impeccable, but the first half of train cars include passengers who cannot afford the fine dining we offer. So, they bring snacks and food of their own kind. But you youngsters are boarding the train where there are luscious steaks and grilled salmon, and you must pay an extra two hundred euros if you wish to proceed,” the man said. I sighed and handed the man another two hundred euros.

The cabin of our train was very clean. It had one bunk bed, so we drew slots of paper. Kate lost and had to take a spare mattress and sleep on the floor. At noon, a waiter arrived, asking for our meal options.

“The choices are: rice with potatoes and meatloaf, pasta and meatballs, steak and mashed potatoes and vegetables, and a lightly grilled mackerel with coleslaw and tartar sauce,” the waiter told us. I chose steak, while Kate chose pasta. Sticky decided that the fish would give him brain power, so he chose that one. The food soon arrived, and we were each given pie and ice cream for dessert.

That night, I slept peacefully, but was awoken to the fidgeting of Sticky as he tried to find the best position to fall asleep.

“Sticky, quiet down and let me go to sleep!” I said. He apologized, but I felt that there was something bothering him. Climbing down and nearly stepping on Kate, I made my way to Sticky. I saw a lump in his mattress, and took it out.

It was a TNT explosive, forty minutes remaining until our cabin went boom. Without a doubt, there were Ten Men in the train, and one had placed the bomb under Sticky.

dUfU

The Ten Men had infiltrated the train. There was no doubt. The problem was that we didn’t know who it was. My first suspect was the person who had set out the beds. It was obviously not McCracken, as the bed-setter was relatively small. Even if Ten Men were masters of disguise, nobody could get those shoulders to reduce. He would have to get at least a month’s surgery, and even then, he wouldn’t get his shoulders in the bed-setter’s uniform without producing a hole. But the bed-setter’s uniform was immaculately clean, and there was no sign of a bursting seam in his clothes. So if it were the bed-setter, it would have to be either Sharpe, Garrote, or Crawlings. 

The only other person privileged to touch our bed was the washer person. He had shoulders like bedside tables, perfectly coiffed brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. But he wasn’t McCracken. He was a small man, only about 1m and 60cm. He couldn’t shrink in a few hours. It would have to be the bed-setter. But what if we were wrong?

For the next few days, we observed the bed-setter. We quickly slipped into his routine. 

7:00: Wake up and wash

7:30: Make every bed in the first-class section

8:00: Make every bed in the second-class section

9:00: Give any dirty sheets/blankets to the washer person and chat for a while

10:00: Have breakfast

11:00: Take orders and find Cook and giver her the orders

11:30: Return all the sheets to the cupboards for the next day

Noon: Eat lunch

12:30: Take a small nap

1:30: Wake from slumber and tidy his bed

2:00: Go around and check all the sheets are in place

3:00: Check everyone’s dinner orders and give them to Cook

4:00: Deliver food

5:00: Have his dinner

6:00: Read/Entertain himself

6:30: Check everyone is happy

7:00: Wash

7:30: Read 

9:00 Sleep

#Bai

Interesting was it indeed, for it did not seem anything was wrong. Slowly however, a pattern began to generate. Using the logic chain, coined by I think Pythagoras, we had to work out what the bed-setter was touching and doing, and who else would be touching it. From the information Kate gave us, some details were obvious.
7:00: Wake up and wash – no suspicious behaviour, as the showers were public to the crew, and there were no hiding spaces.
7:30: Make every bed in the first-class section – this could lead to something – as a mole could be in the train, who was passing things on
8:00: Make every bed in the second-class section – nothing suspicious – not involved with us
9:00: Give any dirty sheets/blankets to the washer person and chat for a while – could be working together, however unlikely
10:00: Have breakfast – absolutely nothing
11:00: Take orders and find Cook and giver her the orders – as mentioned before, could be working together, however unlikely
11:30: Return all the sheets to the cupboards for the next day – almost nothing suspicious.
Noon: Eat lunch – also nothing suspicious
12:30: Take a small nap – also nothing suspicious
1:30: Wake from slumber and tidy his bed – also nothing suspicious
2:00: Go around and check all the sheets are in place – opportunity to pass message from another person to us such as a bomb
3:00: Check everyone’s dinner orders and give them to Cook – as mentioned before, could be working together, however unlikely
4:00: Deliver food – nothing suspicious
5:00: Have his dinner – nothing suspicious
6:00: Read/Entertain himself – very suspicious – ideas coined below
6:30: Check everyone is happy – slightly suspicious, could be working together
7:00: Wash – nothing suspicious
7:30: Read – very suspicious, ideas coined below
9:00 Sleep – nothing suspicious
The thing about reading was, everytime he picked up his book, it rattled. Kate also noted to us that she thought something “strange” about the book. The only way to verify would be to check it ourself. That night, a shadow leapt into the room. It pulled at the book, and then left. The next morning, Kate had opened the book, and found a two-way radio, from crystal radio system LTD, which I believe telephone number was 01527872777, most likely given by McCracken. Suddenly, it began to crackle.
“Gentlemen,
I have arranged for you to meet my most highly placed contact in government. He may be accompanied by certain associates, but you must bring him to me alone. Above all, you must be discreet—if our enemies learn his identity, all is lost. Do not fail me. Your rendezvous instructions are opposite.
Sincerely,
Your Employer
In the root
By the mover
To the north
At noon”
“It isn’t Sticky’s fault,” Reynie said. “That’s exactly why Mr. Curtain wrote it that way, to throw off anyone who wasn’t supposed to read this note. He’s being careful, see? But the Ten Men must have known about the trick ahead of time. They’re probably familiar with all these code words, too—the instructions just make things easier for them.”
“They must be familiar with the code words,” said Kate, “because it isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to guess the opposite of ‘root,’ is it? Or maybe I’m speaking too soon—maybe you boys know the answer already.”
Reynie shrugged. “‘Stem’? ‘Flower’? It’s hard to know what he means by ‘opposite.’” He scratched his head. “Or what he means by ‘root,’ for that matter. It has lots of different meanings, now that I think of it. You can root for your favorite team—”
“The opposite of that would be ‘boo’ or ‘jeer,’ maybe,” said Kate.
“You can root around for something in a bag—”“
“Well, there’s the square root of a number,” Sticky suggested, “the opposite of which would be the square…” He faltered when he saw Reynie giving him a strange look. “Right. I know. Obviously the Ten Men aren’t going to meet in a math problem somewhere. I was just—”
“But they can meet in the square!” interrupted Reynie. “A city square! I think you’ve got it, Sticky!”
“I… I guess you’re right!” said Sticky, surprised. “Now we just have to figure out which square!”
“He says ‘by the mover,’” said Kate. “Do you think he means an earth mover? You know—a bulldozer? Are they doing construction in any of the squares, Sticky?”
“Let’s think about this,” said Reynie before I could respond. “A mover is someone or something that moves. So what is the opposite of that?”
“Someone or something that doesn’t move,” I replied.
“A statue!” cried Kate and Reynie at the same time.
I sucked in his breath. “Guess what? Only one square in Thernbaakagen has a statue, and that’s Ferund Square! The others all have fountains or parks!”

 

#Yao

The train soon stopped, around four miles from Ferund Square. But as I was getting off, I felt somebody grabbing me by the shoulders. I squirmed, hard, and Kate instantly kicked the man in the shin. His leg recoiled in pain, and he let go of me. I punched him in the stomach, and was about to kick him hard when the man cried out.

“Hey! Hey! Stop!” he yelled, weakly. I recognized the voice. It was Milligan!

“Milligan, what are you doing here?” I asked him, helping him up to his feet.

“And might I ask, what are you three doing here?” he said, brushing the dirt off of his shirt. We all looked down sheepishly at our feet. It had been so long, we had forgotten we had run away to join the Shortcut.

“We’re searching for Mr Benedict,” Kate said finally, after a long, intense moment of silence.

“Well, I’ll join you,” Milligan said.

“Seriously? You’re not gonna, like, make us go home or ground us?” I asked. Milligan looked at me sternly.

“Oh, when we get Mr Benedict home, you three will be grounded, all right. But right now, we need to rescue him. Any clues?” Milligan asked us.

“We think Mr Curtain has arranged for some private kidnappers to bring Mr Benedict to him, for a reward. We think they’re taking him to Ferund Square,” I told Milligan. He nodded, and smiled.

“I have a friend that lives near the square. We can live at his house for a few days. Wait a minute, do you have a clue about WHEN Curtain is meeting the kidnappers?” Milligan asked. I shamefully shook my head.

“Oh well, we’ll have to take turns on recon duty,” Milligan said.

We rented bikes and rode all the way to Milligan’s friend’s house. His house had three floors, but it was very narrow. It almost looked like a tower. It seemed very old, and as dark as night. Sticky didn’t want to go in, because of ghosts. Well, he didn’t technically say ghosts, but he said “restless phantoms” whatever that’s supposed to mean. Milligan rang the doorbell, which was really just an old bell system. The door creaked open, and a tall but eccentric-looking man wearing black clothes with gray hair appeared.

“Hello, Edward!” Milligan cheerfully said. “It is always good to see you!”

“Hello Milligan. It’s never good to see you,” Edward said with a deep sigh, and let us come in.

“Are you two really close friends?” I asked Milligan.

“We were, when we were younger. But he’s grown more serious,” Milligan whispered. Edward was in the middle of breakfast, and he was having a big one. He had eggs, meat, vegetables, juice, and cereal. My mouth watered just at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry if you find my house cramped. I didn’t expect visitors,” Edward said. Kate mouthed to Sticky “Why would anybody want to visit him?” and Sticky let out a small giggle. But he instantly stopped laughing when Edward gave him a deathly stare. Edward hastily provided us with food, which was really just portions of his breakfast. I got porridge and eggs. Sticky got bacon and tomatoes. Kate had sausage and cereal. Milligan got leftover fish and potatoes.

We hastily scarfed down our food, and waited for Edward, who was the world’s slowest eater, to finish up his big portions. It turned out he was still hungry, and was about to begin eating another healthy serving of oatmeal when Milligan, not wanting to waste another hour, quickly insisted Edward give us a tour of his house. The first floor consisted of the kitchen, a living room with old books and a small TV, and a dining room.

The second floor consisted of Edward’s bedroom, one spare one, a library, and a fitness room. The last floor consisted of two spare bedrooms, yet another bathroom, and a staircase leading up to the attic. Edward apologized for not having enough rooms for all of us, but then offered the attic. He told us that despite being a little dusty, it was pretty neat and he could fashion a bed out of a spare mattress, old quilts, and sack with chicken feathers in it, with over-turned boxes for tables. None of us wanted the basement. I was scared of the spiders. Kate didn’t like the fact that the attic only had one tiny window, and Sticky just hated everything about it.

We began drawing sticks, but Kate accused Sticky of cheating. We were about to start fighting when Milligan stepped up.

“I’ll sleep in the attic,” he told us. I got the bedroom next to Edward’s and Sticky and Kate got the ones on the third floor. My bedroom had a small bookcase full of books, and there was a large bed with a nightstand and a closet. I felt lucky to live in such a spacious room. Sticky’s room, on the other hand, didn’t have any books or even a closet. Eventually, he realized the library was fascinating and moved his bed into the library, where he decided to sleep.

I got the best night’s sleep I had ever got in a long time, and there were no Ten Men there to try and assassinate me. I was awoken at dawn when I heard Edward shuffle out of his room and begin to sizzle bacon and fry eggs. He put toast into the toaster and added butter. I was pretty sure he was cooking up a giant meal.

Milligan awoke at seven, dressing quickly in a dark green outfit and rushing downstairs to help Edward. I fell into a deep sleep, but I was awoken by Edward at nine.

“It’s time for breakfast. I cooked up full English breakfasts for all of you. Enjoy it while it’s still hot,” he said, shaking me repeatedly. I tried getting him away so I could go back into dreamland, but the smells of bread and bacon met my nostrils before I could. I was instantly down the stairs.

After eating something that was nothing short of a feast, Milligan made us all go out and play. The first thing Sticky did was try to get us to the library. I had always loved books, but today, I wanted to go exploring. Kate wouldn’t go to a library whether she wanted to go adventuring or not. He was outvoted, and sulked the whole way while we went around sightseeing.

dUfU

i had to do a lot of researching for this.

The sights were amazing, with an excellent view of Thernbaakagen. Even Sticky enjoyed it, however much he sulked and denied it. At one point, he described what Thernbaakagen’s public museum was made of. He started spouting a list of natural ingredients found in the museum. Suddenly, Reynie asked a weird question.

“Sticky, where did you find this ‘list of ingredients’?” he asked. Sticky looked at him suspiciously and answered back,

“Mr Benedict’s house, why?” Reynie sighed and closed his eyes. Then he opened them. 

“Sticky, can you write them down, in one straight column?” Sticky looked at him strangely, and I gave Sticky a small notepad and pen. He wrote down:

Synthetic Fibre

Expanded Clay Aggregate

Allendeite

Slate

Ikranite 

Decomposed Granite

Earth (Any soil or clay)

He gasped while Reynie narrowed his eyes, and I smiled. Milligan, however, was not with us. 

“I guess this is a job for us, and only us.” Reynie said. I frowned. 

“How are we going to get to the seaside?” I asked. Reynie sighed. 

“I hadn’t thought of that.” he said. Sticky, however, had spotted another train schedule. He beckoned us over and pointed his finger at a train leaving in ten minutes. 

“That one’s leaving soon, and it’s heading to the seaside.” he said. I slapped him on the back in congratulations, and Reynie clapped. 

“Hang on; I haven’t finished yet!” he cried. Reynie and I immediately quietened. “However,” he said, “That one is a luxury train. It’s a lot of money,” he said. 

“How much for three children?” I asked. Sticky promptly answered back.

“It says €250 for a child. Three would be €750.” Reynie counted the money. 

“We should scrape by,” declared Reynie after he finished counting the money. We ran to the train station. We ran to the platform where the train was leaving, and we paid the money. But then we were confronted by an angry Milligan.

#Bai

Milligan started angrily. “What do you think you are doing? First you escape, then you try and go to the seaside!” However, the anger didn’t last long, as he only wanted to protect us. Milligan was there, although he was rather difficult to see beneath us mobbing him in their excitement. And even when he had freed himself with a lot of hugging and head-patting and handshakes and smiles, Milligan resembled himself but slightly. His normally yellow hair was black, his blue eyes were brown, and his ears, strangely enough, seemed to have shrunk. His ruddy complexion was the same, and he possessed the same tall, lanky build, but at a glance he was hardly recognizable even to those who knew him.
Just then they heard a door bang open, followed by the sound of officers (heavily winded from their climb up the stairs) storming into the other hallway. Kate vaulted the windowsill and led the way down the fire escape steps, down and down, flight after flight, until she leaped the last few steps and landed beside a parked car. Only then did she realize it was a police car.
“Get in, Kate,” Milligan called from above. “That’s our car.”
“A police car?”
“I borrowed it,” said Milligan. “Quick now, boys.”
“But Milligan, we need to go to the seaside – it’s Mr. Benedict’s clue!”
“All right, all right. We’re going there.”

Soon, we were driving through crowded streets, and arrived at the seaside. There, we asked the ice cream seller if he knew someone called Mr. Benedict. “Yes, yes. I do no a Mr. Benedict. Came over last week and asked whether I could do a thing for him. So I did. Here is the card.”
The English words read: RISKER WATER TRANSPORT — OCEAN TOURS & BOAT RENTALS. A Ten Man stood beneath the sign, his briefcase at his feet and his eyes roving up and down the wharf. Every so often he turned to glance behind him toward the far end of the dock, where a grimy old yacht was moored beside a boathouse.
“I wonder why he keeps looking behind him,” Reynie said, when Kate had passed him her spyglass and showed him where to point it. “If he’s just keeping an eye out for whoever shows up, why watch the boathouse? For that matter, why is he standing in plain sight, unless —?”
“Unless he’s guarding the exit?” said Milligan. “Yes. He’s keeping that man prisoner in the boathouse.”
“What man?” asked Reynie. The boathouse had a window, but from this angle he couldn’t see through it.
“He came out a minute ago — just before you all so flagrantly disobeyed me — and picked up a carton that had been left at the door. He was staring toward the Ten Man as if he wanted to throttle him. But when the Ten Man glanced back at him, he scurried inside like a frightened mouse.”
“So what do we do?” asked Sticky.
“I know,” said Kate, nudging Milligan and pointing to another warehouse roof much closer to the wharf. “From over there you can get the drop on the Ten Man with your tranquilizer gun. He’ll be out like a light before he knows what hit him.”
Milligan shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that. See how close he’s standing to the edge of the dock? I can’t risk it. He might fall into the water and drown.”
Kate looked at him cockeyed. “Are you kidding? These guys are monsters! If that one fell into the water it would serve him right!”
“You might think you mean that,” said Milligan. “But you’d feel differently if it were to happen and you were responsible. We’re not like them, Kate. That’s the entire point of trying to stop them.”
“I know we’re not,” Kate said irritably. She wanted to argue but could tell it was a waste of time.
Milligan rubbed his temples and explained, as patiently as he could, that he’d already alerted the authorities to the presence of Ten Men in Thernbaakagen. “The police at the hotel will be vigilant, I assure you. I don’t just ‘let them get away.’ But neither do I risk killing someone — not even a Ten Man — if I can think of a better option.”
“So what’s the better option?” Kate asked.
“I’m still trying to think of it,” Milligan admitted. “I could lure him away from there — preferably to a place where I could engage him at my advantage — but then the prisoner may take the opportunity to flee, and I can’t let that happen. He may have vital information.”
“That’s easy, then,” said Reynie. “You draw the Ten Man away, and we’ll run down and talk to the prisoner.”
“That’s out of the question,” Milligan said. “You won’t be involved in this operation. End of discussion.”
It was not the end of the discussion, however, for the children set at once to arguing with Milligan, pursuing him across the roof and surrounding him and pestering him like honeybees after a bear. With the Ten Man gone there’d be no danger, Reynie said; the clock was ticking and every minute counted, Kate said; if he didn’t let them do it they would die on the spot and it would be Milligan’s fault, said Constance (who could think of nothing better to say); they’d post a lookout, Sticky said, and if something went wrong they’d leave at once. The children said all this and a great many other things besides, generally speaking at the same time and raising their voices to be heard over one another.
“Enough!” Milligan said finally, clutching at his head as if someone had bludgeoned him. “We’ll compromise. You can hide nearby and keep an eye on the boathouse. But under no circumstances will you come out of hiding unless the prisoner appears and seems ready to run. Then — and only then — you may leave your hiding place to speak with him. Is that understood?”
Yes, we had understood. But what were we to do next?

#Yao

Milligan swiftly moved away to a place nearer to the Ten Man, and he immediately threw a rock at the villain’s feet. The man perked up, his watch instantly blazing with electricity. Milligan cawed at him, and insulted him so outrageously that the Ten Man began turning red. He immediately fired laser after laser from his laser pen gun, and chased Milligan. It took a few minutes for the prisoner, bound and gagged, to finally come out from the boathouse. He prepared to sprint as fast as he could to the nearest policeman, but we tackled him down, and he frantically tried to push us off.

“Get off of me, you meddling children!” he cried, thrashing wildly.

“We’ll let you go if you promise to answer a few question!” I cried, as I pinned him down despite being kicked very painfully in the thigh.

“All right, I’ll answer your questions,” the man said, standing up and dusting himself up.

“Do you know a man named Mr Benedict?” Kate inquired.

“Well, I can’t say I do,” the prisoner told us, his beard moving with the wind.

“Was there anybody along with you in the boathouse?” Sticky asked.

“Actually, there was another fellow. He was sad a lot, and fell asleep for no reason,” the man said, stroking his long and wavering beard. I immediately knew the man was talking about Mr Benedict.

“Where is the other prisoner? Do you know anything about him?” Kate asked eagerly, urging the man on, who didn’t seem sure whether or not to tell us children.

“Well, if you intend to know his exact location, you might as well let me go. But two days ago, I woke up in the middle of a night a loud noise that sounded like an airplane engine. I felt around to see if the other prisoner was by my side, but he wasn’t. Then, I heard the plane go out of earshot,” the man explained to us. We all groaned.

“Are you children looking for that man?” the former prisoner asked, straightening his tie.

“We are, sort of,” I replied.

“Well, then you might as well have this piece of paper. I found it on the floor during the night when the other prisoner disappeared. It seems addressed to ‘the trio that are searching in desperation’ whomever that refers to,” the man said, pulling out a piece of scrap paper. I immediately came to my senses. To the prisoner, the piece of paper was nothing, but to us, it was our only chance of finding out where Mr Benedict was. Eagerly, I grabbed the paper. I offered the prisoner twenty euros for giving us that paper, but he refused it.

“What should we do now?” Sticky asked, after the prisoner had walked away.

“Well, I guess we should decipher the code, then see if Milligan needs our help,” Kate told him. He agreed, and so then, we unrolled the paper.

“For the trio that are searching in desperation, I resided in the five-star excellent room of 456, in Second Best,” Kate read aloud. I scratched my head.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Mr Benedict made it obvious with ‘the trio that are searching in desperation’, but the rest is just blabber,” I noted.

“Well, let’s think about this. Five-star. That usually means a rating of a place, like a restaurant or any institution that give services,” Sticky said.

“But what about the room thing? Room 456?” Sticky murmured, shaking his head.

“Well, rooms can mean lots of things. I mean, rooms are often in motels,” Kate offered.

“No, that wouldn’t be correct. Motels don’t have four floors. They usually have two,” I told her.

“Isn’t that what hotels do?” Sticky asked. A lightbulb went up in my mind.

“Sticky, you’re a genius!” I cried. Kate muttered he was already one, but I didn’t listen to her. “Mr Benedict wanted us to go to Room 456 of a hotel that had a five star rating!”

“But Second Best now doesn’t make sense. What is Second Best?” Sticky asked.

“Well, five star hotels are the best, so I think Mr Benedicts is alluding to the second best of hotels,” I said.

“But second best of what list? I mean, is it just second best in this region, this country, this continent, or this world?” Kate asked.

“Maybe we should ask around. I mean, second-place hotels often argue a lot with first-place hotels, and because the second-place already has the highest rating, I’m pretty sure 2nd is accusing 1st of cheating, so maybe there’s a big fight everybody knows about?” I said.

“You could be right, but first, we have to make sure Milligan’s alright,” Kate said. We all agreed, and so, we began our search. We all thought Milligan wouldn’t be far, but it looked as if their fight had taken them away from the coast. There was a vendor selling fish tacos, and despite the three of us all wanting to make sure Milligan wasn’t about to die, the delicious aroma made us all stop and buy three to share. The tacos were delicious, making me salivate just looking at them, and I was so hungry, not having eaten since the morning.

Finally, we found Milligan still fighting with the Ten Man, in the dark alley of a street. They were both looking very tired, but the Ten Man, with all of his tools, seemed to be beating Milligan. I rushed into the fight, grabbing a lemon from the plate that had held the fish tacos, and squeezing the contents into the Ten Man’s eyes, which made him blind for about five minutes. In that time, Milligan managed to pin him down, handcuff him, and wonder what to do next.

But us children had an idea. We take a part of the Ten Man, and carried him all the way to a Dumpster. There, we dumped him in, and closed the lid. We expected Milligan to give us a lecture about humanity, but he instead actually smiled, and led the way. Now, all we needed to do was find out what Mr Benedict had tried to tell us in his message.

Second Best. Five Star. It resembled an encrypted code, but we were clueless about how to decipher it. 

“Funny how Mr Benedict would send us a code if we didn’t know how to decipher it,” said Reynie, gazing up into the azure sky. By now, the early evening stars had formed small constellations in the early twilight sky. I gazed at them, faint cobwebs of thought weaving in my head. I then struck home.

I looked at the paper again. I got out a match kit and lit a match. I held it up carefully up to the scrap, though not in burning distance. Brown words formed on the parchment as though an invisible hand was reaching out and writing them. 

Ultra-violet light, it read. I sighed. I didn’t have an ultra-violet light, though Reynie would joke that my bucket was Mary Poppins’ creation. Sticky, however, gasped. 

“Come on; we have to sleep. It makes the night seem to pass quickly, and we need that. Recent statistics-” I cut him off.

“Yes, yes. Let’s go. Come on.” I said, pulling at his arm. He sighed and went with me. We found a cheap nearby motel and booked a room each. Then we chose a room each and fell asleep, still clothed and unwashed. 

The sun streamed through the window when I woke up. We went down to breakfast, and then Sticky pulled us outside. As soon as the paper made contact with a ray of sunlight, words began to appear, though only faintly. 

Hotel Swarovski. Room 456. Money already paid. I sighed. Sticky pulled out a map, and we studied it carefully. Hotel Swarovski was in Amsterdam. Sticky clicked. I wondered why Sticky was so happy, and then we set off.

We arrived at the train station. Milligan paid for a train going to Amsterdam. We boarded it, but we would not have been such as fast if we knew the dangers we were to face.

#Bai

Then, we boarded the train and headed for Amsterdam. The hotel was located in the centre of it, and was about one day of train driving, because there was recently some delay. On the train were seven members of staff – but there was nothing suspicious about that until we saw a well-dressed gentleman with two watches and a very large briefcase, which Milligan overheard him talking to other people that it was only for “business purposes only”. Milligan managed to dispose of him, then we started discussing.
“Nobody saw us getting on the train, so one of the staff must have seen us.” said Kate.
“Therefore, one or more of the staff is working with the ten men.” added Reynie
“Wait a minute, that means the ten men knew we were coming on this exact train. So they might know where we’re going, too.” I interjected.
“All right then. I’ll go have a check.” added Kate.
She noted down seven people.

• Conductor
• Trainmen
• Engineer
• Fireman
• Dining-Car service attendants
• Chef
• Train Driver

All of them had the chance to tell the ten men about us being on the train. So, for the day, Kate snuck around the telephone, and noted the following.

 

• Conductor, mentioned the words, “I am fine, hope you are having a lovely time in Australia.”
• Trainmen – no usage.
• Engineer, “See you on July the 5th for my holiday.”
• Dining-Car service attendants, “They are still here. Previous man gone. $50,000 paid to the account is a deal.”
• Chef, no usage

Train Driver, no usage.
The only suspicious person was the Dining-Car Service Attendants, whose next speech was, “Rendezvous and search Abbess Edifice 2100 hours.” This was confusing, and we needed more discussion to work out what it meant.”
“I think I see what’s happened,” Reynie said. “The Ten Men were carrying sealed instructions—to be opened in certain circumstances, maybe, or else just when they got here.”
“It makes sense,” said Sticky. “Mr. Curtain knew they couldn’t use radios or phones, and he doesn’t trust anyone to know all his plans ahead of time.”
“He was careful enough to be pretty vague,” said Kate. “I know ‘2100 hours’ is nine o’clock, and ‘rendezvous’ means to meet somewhere—but where? And who or what is this ‘Abbot Edifice’? Is it a person or a place?”
Sticky furrowed his brow. “It’s kind of both. An edifice is a building, and an abbot is the superior of an abbey or—”
“Slow down,” said Kate. “An abbey’s a kind of church, right?”
“It can be,” Sticky said, speaking slowly. “‘Abbey’ usually refers to a convent or monastery under the supervision of an abbess or abbot. But sometimes the church in one of those places is called the abbey, as well.”
“Okay!” said Kate. “So they’re going to meet up again at nine o’clock at a certain convent or monastery—”
“Definitely a monastery. The note says ‘Abbess,’ not ‘Abbot.’”
“A monastery, then, and they’re going to search one of the buildings,” Kate said. “But which monastery and which building?”
“Wait!” Reynie said, jumping to his feet. “A monastery is where monks live, right? So isn’t the abbot a monk, too? Mr. Curtain isn’t just being vague—he’s using code words!”
“Of course!” Sticky said. “So Abbot Edifice is code for—”
“The Abbess Building!” Kate cried.
The Abbess Building was a place where Mr. Benedict had a relation to. It was decided Milligan go and search the hotel, whereas us three go and search the Abbess Building. After a few hours of searching and waiting, we finally found the ten men
“Very well,” said McCracken. “Let’s cite our numbers, beginning with Crawlings.”
Each Ten Man spoke a number aloud. McCracken nodded. “The sum is odd. That indicates you, Garrotte.”
Garrotte reached inside his suit coat and took out a sealed envelope. He handed it to McCracken, who had already unsheathed a wicked-looking letter opener. McCracken slit the envelope, removed the letter, and let the envelope fall. As an afterthought he sliced the envelope in two as it drifted to the floor—he didn’t even look at it—before unfolding the letter and looking it over.
Read it aloud, I pleaded in his mind. Read it aloud!
But McCracken only said “Ah,” and passed the letter around for the other Ten Men to read.

#Yao

Our plan had partially failed, but we weren’t giving up. We needed to know what the letter meant, where Mr Benedict would be taken. Soon, after the last Ten Man had read the letter, McCracken smiled. He lit a match, and lit the letter ablaze. I wanted to yell at the man, snatch the paper away from him, but we would then be cornered by several Ten Men. There was a reason Mr Curtain, the most evil man on earth, would hire those goons.

Suddenly, just as the first bits of paper became ashes, there was a deafening crash, like a breaking of a window. Suddenly, Milligan burst in, firing burst after burst from his shock gun. He ran out of ammunition, and subdued several of the Ten Men with his bare hands. But he was badly injured by McCracken, who used his suitcase as a ram. As McCracken’s electric watches began to sparkle, I suddenly cried out.

“NO!” I yelled, and tackled McCracken to the ground. He groaned, and began punching me. My rage was great, and Kate joined me, viciously kicking McCracken over and over. Sticky was a bit timid, but he joined in anyways. McCracken was a very powerful villain, but even he could not handle being beat up by three kids.

Just as we were about to pummel him into knock-out zone, he suddenly remembered we were after the note. Grinning at us, he lit the rest of the paper on fire.

“Sorry duckies, but this is one fight you won’t win,” he snarled in a sing-song tone. I desperately tried to save the paper, but it disappeared into ashes. With one last rage, I whacked McCracken on the face, and his cheek began bleeding. But as he began to lose blood and slowly go into the world of death, he managed to put on a smile of victory.

I stared at the last remaining pieces of paper, and I felt tears streaming down my face. Our last glimmer of hope of saving Mr Benedict had gone. Kate was also crying, but very quietly. Sticky was outright sobbing. But Milligan needed our attention. He was bleeding severely, and it seemed he was beat up real bad.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, placing my arms over him and trying to lift the man.  Milligan was moaning, and he needed medical attention, quick.

“Kate, search his bag. He may have a med-kit,” I told her. Sure  enough, there was a first aid kit in his pocket, and we applied it to his wounds. Pretty soon, Milligan was able to walk easily, but we needed to carry him.

“Anyways, I searched the hotel. There’s a piece of paper,” he told me. He handed a roll of parchment, which I unrolled and then read aloud.

“Somewhere deep in the woods, a place no one can fall asleep. The vacation will be nice,” I said, shaking my head.

“This, no doubt, is another coded message. But what does it mean? It’s simpler than the rest, but I don’t understand. Are you sure Milligan, this isn’t some tourist’s vacation plans?” Kate asked.

“I’m sure,” he replied in a raspy voice. I gave him some water, and then thought about the note.

“Do any of you know the tale of Hansel and Gretel?” I asked Sticky and Kate.

“I remember it from a storybook I read when I was two,” Sticky said.

“Well, do any of you remember that deep in the woods, the two children discover a candy house? That was really silly, and it mentioned how the children had never seen a house made of candy. So maybe, the first line, deep in the woods, meant a place lost to civilizations grasp,” I murmured.

“You could be right. But the part about nobody falling asleep is absurd!” I said.

“Wait. Doesn’t duskwort sort of prevent people from getting narcolepsy? So isn’t Mr Benedict trying to tell us that this remote part of the world is where duskwort thrives and actually grows?” Kate said.

“Kate, you’re a genius. When the person writing the words said he would enjoy his vacation, he was trying to imply that Mr Curtain was taking him there! Pretty smart too, of him. After all, anybody who didn’t know about duskwort would this these words were just describing a tourist trying to get away from the loud world,” Sticky said.

“So, put together, we need to find a remote island,” I said.

“I think I can find a solution to that,” Milligan said, weakly. He told us that he had a seaplane all ready, and that we could start right away.

dUfU

“Wait,” I said, just before boarding the seaplane. “You’re just taking us to the middle of nowhere, and you’re completely fine with that?” Milligan rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“I am not taking you into the middle of nowhere. On the contrary, I know perfectly well where I am taking you,” He replied, although my question was rhetorical. I shook my head gently and boarded without a reply. 

I had never been on the plane before, and I must say, if I was a plane reviewer, the aircraft did not suit my standards. It was very cramped, and the air conditioner did not work well. Sticky fell asleep (I don’t know how he did it, as this was probably the worst experience I’d ever been through), and Reynie was reading. I closed my eyes and thought. If we were to find duskwort, then Mr Benedict was sure to make it a riddle, right? It seemed like all my troubles were gone, despite the poor condition of the plane. Then, distracting me from my thoughts, was an acrid petrol fume. Only Reynie and I had noticed this, as Sticky was asleep. A tingle of panic crawled up my body. I breathed deeply, just thinking of getting air into my body. Then we dropped steeply.

It turned out that Milligan had warned that we might be heading for a ‘sharp descent’, but nobody had heard him over the screams of trepidation. We landed on the sea, the plane only trembling if the lazy ripples of the sea lapped against its side. Millian dragged the aircraft over to land and covered it with a khaki tarpaulin. He paced on the sand, his feet leaving footprints on the wet ground.

“Right, now to figure out where we are,” he said. But none of us knew.

#Bai

Actually, I did know where we were going. Apparently, after we had destroyed the Whisperer, I had taken the time to investigate the universal principles of the machine and the techniques of it. I had found out that the Whisperer had required just a fragment of duskwort to suddenly sedate the person in the Whisperer for a few seconds due to the research I made that after sleep, one is much more fresh. However, there was one condition. Very rarely, constant sedation would make one clumsy, due to the fact that duskwort contains the root to a logic chain which is emphasized using reaction surfaces such as Latex. So, people like S.Q. becomes slightly clumsy.
So, the place we were at was a place where Mr. Curtain wanted to find some more duskwort. But duskwort was a very fragile substance, and needed special containers to hold them. Thus, he came to this island just to find Mr. Benedict. Well, what bad luck. The description of the island is as follows: a very large, oblong land mass in the middle of a watery nowhere. From a distance it had a notably two-faced appearance, for the late evening sun bathed the western half in soft yellow light, while a small central mountain range blocked the sun from the eastern half, relegating that part to something like dusk. The low mountains — of which there were exactly three — ran from south to north in the middle of the island and were dotted sparsely with trees. Seen from above they gave the island the look of some monstrous, unfathomable beast, its head and tail submerged, its spiny back spotted with moss. It was known as the “monster island” because it contained the most dangerous plant in the world – duskwort.
Because of that, we needed to work out where Mr. Benedict was, so we could save him, and then Milligan would save us. I memorized from the map that there was a village in the middle – therefore meaning that Mr. Benedict could actually be there! However, they must have found a special house – because the rest was abandoned on September 3rd, 1940 due to World War Two. Milligan led the way – but about two miles after we had landed, we encountered some ten men. Without making any noise, we stepped onto a tree. When we climbed up, we had a total shock. McCracken was still alive, but was walking on crutches. He kept muttering under his breath. “When I find the little brats I will kill them.”
Then, Milligan shot them all with his tranquilizer gun, and three were already on the floor by the time the ten men began to react. We had ran to the village and had thought we were safe. Until…
“Put down your weapon!” a voice called from above.
“In a minute,” Milligan growled.
“You’ll do it now,” said the voice, “or the girl with the ponytail gets a nasty haircut.”
Kate had just heaved Reynie into the Salamander when she heard this. She looked into the rafters. At first she saw nothing.
Then, to her horror, she saw something that resembled a twitching caterpillar. It was Crawlings’s eyebrow, wriggling excitedly. Most of the Ten Man’s body was hidden in shadow, but he was making sure Kate could see his face and, more important, the laser pointer he was aiming at her.
“Kate?” Milligan called. From his position he couldn’t see what she could. When she didn’t answer, he glanced back and saw her staring helplessly into the rafters. Milligan didn’t hesitate. He set his tranquilizer gun on the floor.
“Milligan, don’t!” Kate cried, finding her voice again. But it was too late.
“Kick it away from you,” Crawlings called.
Milligan sent the tranquilizer gun sliding across the floor with his boot.
“Go to the back of the room, pick up a pair of handcuffs, and lock yourself to that chain. Close the handcuffs so tightly they pinch.”
Milligan went and cuffed himself to the chain, which was still padlocked to a beam. He yanked on the chain to demonstrate he was firmly secured, and as soon as he did so Crawlings dropped to the floor a few yards away, aiming his pointer directly at Milligan’s chest. He was smiling with pure delight. “Did I hear her right? Are you really Milligan?”
Milligan said nothing, only leaned forward as if he wanted nothing more than to lunge at Crawlings. But the chain was stretched taut behind him — he was at its outer limit — and Crawlings called out, “Did you hear that, boys? It’s Milligan! We’ve got the famous Milligan handcuffed to a pole!”
McCracken and Sharpe emerged and moved to the middle of the room. The corner of McCracken’s lip jerked upward, as if he were trying not to laugh. “Milligan, eh? What a pleasant surprise!”

What were we to do next?

#Yao

I didn’t know what to do. Milligan was about to be captured, or worse, and here we were, stupidly standing. Just then, Sticky began talking, much to my sudden surprise.

“Have any of you heard about pancakes fun?” Sticky asked. The Ten Men were all astounded. They turned their attention to Sticky. At first, I didn’t know what Sticky was talking about. But then, when I saw him look at us out of the corner of his eye, I knew what he meant.

“They’re these really good breakfast items my mom used to make. She’d fry pancakes using batter, and she’d cut out shapes from the pancakes using cookie-cutters. Then, she’d give the leftover pancake that couldn’t be used for shapes to our dog, Biscuit! Isn’t that funny? I personally think Biscuit is a good name for my dog, even though my mom named Biscuit Biscuit. Oh, am I confusing you? I’m sorry. It’s so weird! Anyway, my mom would drizzle syrup all over the pancake thingies, add some bacon to our plates, and have us eat! My mom even entered her pancake funs for a contest, and she even won. She’s now famous for them, and…” he blabbered.

While Sticky yammered on and on about food, I quietly crept towards Milligan, where he was chained, and I slowly used a small pick to pick his locks, twisting until the mechanism got messed up. I quickly helped Milligan retrieve his dart gun, and Sticky was still talking about…puppies.

“…So, I don’t really know what Biscuit’s type of breed is, but I’m pretty sure he’s a poodle,” Sticky said.

“Hurry up kid. I know we can listen all day to you talking, but we got a prisoner to take care of,” McCracken said, folding his arms. Sticky saw us, and smiled.

“Of course, but you’ve got something wrong. I don’t think you’ll take care of Milligan. I think Milligan will take care of you!” Sticky shouted, and the Ten Men all got darts into their bodies. Milligan dumped the bodies, and then got some food for us. It turned our there was a compartment in the plane just for rations, and we each had a light supper. Milligan told us that the Ten Men could come again any minute, so he would keep watch.

“Um, then who’s searching for Mr B?” I asked. Milligan sighed.

“We’ll just have to take our chances,” Milligan said, sighing.

“What if we went searching?” Kate suggested. She had a smile on her face. We all put on puppy-dog eyes for Milligan, but he frowned.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.” he told us.

“I’ll give you a gummy worm pack, two pebbles, three dollars and…forty nine cents!” I told him. Milligan chuckled softly. He was used to being bribed.

“Give me THREE gummy worm packs, nine pebbles, and ten dollars and you’ve got a deal,” he said. But I didn’t. In the end, I decided to eat the candy worms. Kate and Sticky and me argued and argued and argued. We made sure Milligan knew he was hurting us and disappointing our souls. I told him that if we didn’t find Mr Benedict in time, he would be harmed and it would all be his fault. Sticky reasoned with him that if we just sat in the hut, we would be like sitting ducks. Kate, with an irrational slight fear of tiny huts, said that she would go outside and take a walk if he didn’t let her come.

Milligan retorted with reasons of his own, and we honestly could not argue with him. Milligan told me that he didn’t care whether or not Mr B died or lived. I was shocked, but then he told me that Mr Benedict would rather his three geniuses live than the old man he was die. He would not risk the life of us just to rescue Mr Benedict. Second, he told Sticky a very good explanation. He said that we were indeed sitting ducks in the hut, but we would be sitting ducks that were well hidden. Out in the open, we were like targets on a shooting range. Then, to Kate, he said she could take a walk, as long as she wasn’t afraid of the giant spiders, which always lurked nearby. That shut Kate up.

Finally, Milligan compromised.

“Going out in the open without any weapons is just too dangerous for three youngsters. But, watching out from the roof, that isn’t as dangerous. So, I’ll let you watch. I’ll give you a flare gun in case you need to signal me,” he told us. We agreed, and soon, we were up on the roof. We took hour shifts, and since I was the leader of the group, I had to watch first. It was boring, being stuck on the roof without anything to do. I had not a single book to have for company, and all I could do was stare into blankness. Then, I began taking the flare projectile out of the gun, and then loading it again. I took it out again, then loaded it again. See where this is going?

After a very reapeating hour of repeatedly fingering the flare gun, it was finally Sticky’s turn.

dUfU

I knew Sticky wouldn’t be the best watch, but all of us were tired, and Milligan, even though he denied this, could hardly keep his eyes open. Reynie was asleep in the corner of the room, and I was lying with my head on a small travel pillow I had found in my bucket. I had used a small mat for a blanket, so Reynie used the bed. I looked out the window and thought how lovely the sky looked. Then I fell into a deep sleep, that I could not even hear the shrill screams of fear that Sticky screamed.

Only Milligan heard. But, to Sticky’s unfortune, he was barely awake. Milligan managed to wake me before he collapsed, but not in the nicest possible way. He emptied my bucket and filled it in the well, describing himself as ‘nearly’ falling in, and dumped it on my face. He burst out laughing, and I rolled my eyes. He then fell asleep. I sighed and poured the water on Reynie’s face, who wasn’t the most pleased person I’d ever seen, but when I described the situation, he was off, leaving all the moisture behind him. I sighed again and followed him out. 

I wasn’t ready for what I saw, but I guess I should have. Two boys. One with the name of Reynie, and another named Sticky. And a man called McCracken. It was clear that McCracken had captured them like a cat and two mice. I was suddenly aware that I had no parental supervision and no advice. McCracken smiled at me.

“Now, ducky. You have a choice. Friends,” he said, gesturing to the two boys dangling from his hand, “Or Family.” he said, motioning to the cottage where Milligan was sleeping. I didn’t know what to do. Who should I choose?

#Bai

I was just hoping that she, as a fast runner, would wake Milligan up and then before McCracken could harm us harm him. Well, I’m still in confusing mode if you don’t understand what I mean. But Kate didn’t save anybody. She didn’t even move, except for a slick move of placing her hand in her bucket. A direct attack was not what the Ten Man had expected, and he flinched in surprise as Kate lunged forward, leaping over the pile of linens and scooping up a pillow as she charged. A split second later there came a BANG BANG as two wires struck the bucket Kate had lifted — just in time — to use as a shield. Reynie saw the wires flickering like snakes’ tongues as they recoiled into the Ten Man’s watches. At the same time he saw Kate bring her other hand around — the one she’d had behind her back — and swing it up toward the man’s face. Reynie had thought she was hiding the paper with the address on it. Now he saw it was a small bottle, the contents of which she splashed into the Ten Man’s eyes.
“I hope you like lemon juice!” Kate said as the man howled and covered his face. Already she had dropped the bottle, grabbed the briefcase, and flung it across the room at Reynie, who saw it flying toward him with alarm. He was not the most athletic of children, and he felt lucky indeed when he managed to catch the briefcase before it knocked his teeth out. It was quite heavy, and Kate had thrown it with a great deal of force.
Still, the Ten Man had the upper hand; he was an adult and it was soon that he had recovered from the accident and after rolling up his sleeve, the watches flicked like an ancient charmer’s rope, and the whirring sound was like a killing machine. Just as the wires entered the air, Reynie pushed me aside and landed on me with a bump. My glasses hit the floor and I cringed as a clack ringed into my ears. In that time, Kate had ran to her father and shaken him up, and with his dart gun had shot McCracken to the ground. Then we rushed away and found the next clue in the flare gun itself! It read, “
Looking for something? Open me.
I’m sure that your something inside of me lies.
Of course you can always find hope in me
(Though despair must come first; and later, surprise),
What’s sought, though, depends on the seeker —
One looks for bobbin; another, for beaker;
Others, for nature; still others, for nurture —
The quarry will vary from searcher to searcher.
And yet (I suspect this will strike you as strange),
My contents are set and will not ever change.
If you still cannot guess what I mean, here’s a clue:
The answer — what I mean — lies inside of me, too.”
“You must be kidding,” Kate said when Reynie had finished. “That’s the riddle? But it’s nonsense! Nothing can hold all those things!”
Reynie looked at her curiously. “It isn’t nonsense, Kate.”
“It sounds like magic,” Sticky said in an awed tone. “After all, he wouldn’t give us an impossible riddle. Maybe the answer just seems impossible, but isn’t really! Like magic!”
“It’s a dictionary,” Reynie said, standing up. “Now let’s go find it.”
Everyone stared at me after Reynie finished saying that. “Right. A dictionary. Well, that’s in my bag, and my bag is next to the seaplane.”
“Let’s go.”
Where would we go after we found the dictionary?

#Yao

I was very tired when we began the journey to the seaplane. I begged Milligan to let us rest for a while, but he wouldn’t listen to it. He told me that we needed to get moving, since the Ten Men most likely knew where we were. So, we had to move across a vast land of swamp just to reach the seaplane. Once there, I finally was able to rest my legs.

“Sticky, find the dictionary,” I said. Sticky fumbled in the plane for a few moments, then emerged victorious, a large thick book in his hands.

“What should I find?” he asked.

“Go to b. Let’s see what we can find on ‘Benedict,'” I said. Sticky flipped to b, and searched for the word.

“Aha! I’ve found it. Strange. There’s a note near it,” Sticky said.

“Well, read it!” I cried.

“Alright. Ahem! For one who can no longer be alone, be in the hands of thy love,” he said.

“What? Is that all?” I asked.

“Yep. That’s all,” Sticky said.

“What about the definition of the actual word?” Kate inquired, butting in.

“Umm, it’s all blacked out,” Sticky said.

“WHAT?” she cried, almost jumping off of her log.

“Yeah. Somebody, maybe the author, intended for it to not be read,” Sticky said, scratching his head.

“This is bad. This is bad. This is bad, bad, bad!” Kate cried, waving her arms.

“Calm down! Sticky, isn’t my dictionary from Mr Benedict’s library?” I asked, inquisitively.

“Um, I think so. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t afford a book that’s $89.99,” he said.

“I think I have an answer. If the book belonged to Mr Benedict, that must mean he bought it, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. Go on,” Kate said.

“In order for the book to be published, the author couldn’t write on it. Plus, nobody else other than us, Number Two, Rhonda, and Mr Benedict have access to this dictionary. It’s from his private library, which includes a lock!” I told them.

“Reynie, I appreciate the detective mood here and all, but what are you trying to get at?” Sticky asked.

“I mean, Mr Benedict crossed out the words, wrote the note, and placed it in the dictionary!” I said.

“Um…That’s kind of crazy, but it makes sense,” Sticky said. It did indeed. The pieces all clicked together.

“There’s also another thing I want to mention. I think I’ve cracked the code. You see, being alone generally is a negative term for being unmarried, or a bachelor. Couples just married also hold hands, finally together, so the code must mean, a long-time bachelor who had just recently been married. And married people like to live together, yes? Maybe there’s one main building on this island, and that’s where Curtain and his goons are holding Mr Benedict,” I told my two awestruck companions.

“Reynie, you could be correct!” Kate said. I was triumphant, but just when Sticky was about to talk, we heard the galloping of hundreds of horses. What could they be? And soon, out of the trees, rode in several indigenous warriors wearing war paint and feather caps. They shot arrows, threw spears, carried hatchets, and some of them even had clubs. Milligan didn’t need to think twice to know what we needed to do, and fast.

“Get in the plane!” Milligan hurriedly said, pulling open the door. Quickly, we rushed inside, and Milligan prepared to launch. Just as we thought we were going to escape, something bad happened.

SQUEEREEE.

The noise came from the fuel indicator, and, indeed, it was empty. The plane was out of fuel, and it couldn’t fly. Milligan turned to us, a worried expression on his face.

“Children, there’s weapons in the back. Choose the ones you want and fight. I’ll go get some machine guns,” he said to us, and quickly unbuckled his seat belt. I chose two weapons. First, I decided to give the P90 gun a try, and strapped one extra magazines. I also had twin Colt 1911 pistols, just waiting to be used. Kate decided to set up a machine gun, and Sticky, as always, chose the smallest gun he could find, which was the pocket pistol. I made Sticky go back and get an M4A1 carbine with a flashlight and grenadier accessories.

We opened windows, not so big that arrows could fly in, but enough so that we could aim our guns. I took down horse after horse, warrior after warriors. Milligan had activated the automatic machine gun and cannon turrets on the plane, and they were blasting away at anything that came within a five mile radius. As I loaded in another clip into my weapon, I saw a warrior preparing what seemed like a torch. And then, I realized what he was doing. Our plane had a wooden body, and if I didn’t shoot the man, our whole plane would go up in flames. So, naturally, I fired full auto towards him, blasting his body every this way and that.

The battle lasted for hours, and the warriors just seemed to keep coming. Somehow, a few of them on foot had managed to breach the side door, and were pouring into the plane. Milligan shot many with his stun gun, and we helped him by raking the crowd of yelling men with gunfire and smoke. Milligan quickly closed the door, and put a lock on it. The casualties on their side began getting higher. More men were dying just to take our plane. Nobody could get within forty meters of the plane without a gun turret with either a double 20mm cannon setup or quadruple M2 Browning machine guns. At night, the warriors began taking a rest, and I stuffed morsel after morsel into my groaning stomach, helping myself to stale bread and sour milk and dry meat. All of the food I had thought disgusting before were now delicacies. I carefully set my smoking P90 on its side, let it cool, and began sleeping.

dUfU

When we woke, the first feeling I had was a wonderful sense of security. It was actually quite ironic, considering the situation. The warriors were still there. I sighed and closed my eyes. No other person was awake since it was a few hours until dawn came. I stared at the ceiling, too bored to do anything else. I could hear the steady slow breathing of my companions. Still asleep. Well, I thought so. Since the sound of Sticky and Milligan’s breathing clashed, I didn’t realize that only two were sleeping.
“Kate, you awake?” I jumped. I heard a chuckle and rolled my eyes.
“Reynie. I should have known,” I said, with an air of irritation. There was another chuckle, this time louder.
“Seriously, stop messing with me,” I said, now genuinely exasperated. Now there was a third laugh, this time louder and longer. It seemed funny enough to Reynie that it brought tears to his eyes.

When everyone was awake, Reynie and I didn’t mention a word to anyone, probably because part of the fun was because everyone was asleep. Although we never said this, it was probably obvious, as we could barely look at each other without laughing. By the end of the day, we were laughing so hard that our stomachs hurt. Every time we looked up again and saw Milligan and Sticky trying to maintain a disapproving look, we started laughing again. Sticky had his hands on his hips.
“Right, you’re going to have to tell us what is happening,” He said. Reynie and I exchanged glances.
“Well, Kate and I, well, we woke up and started joking around…” Reynie trailed off at the disapproving glances he received.
“I’m sorry, I know it was inexcuseable, and I will neer do it again,” he said, looking genuinely sorry. Then, everyone else burst into laughter. Reynie scowled, and we laughed harder. We wouldn’t be so light-hearted, though, if we knew what would happen.

#Bai

As Reynie had so stunningly described, we required a large, main building on the island. Fortunately, I knew where that was – and it wasn’t in the village – it was actually in, well, another village on a island right next to it – just about 200 metres away. It was called Long Blue island, and there was actually a prison there, it was a derelict one, but perfect for Mr. Curtain. We had just swum up, when we were caught. We were brought to a gate…
“I see you,” a man’s voice replied. “We’ll open up.”
There came a rattling, clanking sound, as if a large gate or drawbridge were being opened, and the van started forward again. After some maneuvering, some muttered cursing, and some jibes from the other Ten Men about Garrotte’s parking, the van doors were flung open and the children unloaded. They were marched into a building and up several flights of stairs, where (thanks to Constance’s incessant whining) they were given water to drink and one minute apiece in a cold bathroom. But not until they had been corralled in a bright, stark room were their blindfolds removed. The Ten Men whipped them off with a flourish and withdrew to the doorway.
The first thing the children saw was Mr. Curtain. His appearance startled them, for though the Ten Men had kept up their cheerful banter, no one had heard Mr. Curtain’s voice or any other indication of his presence. But here he was in all his creepy glory, the spitting image of Mr. Benedict save for his haughty expression, his more carefully combed white hair, and the slightly different plaid pattern of his green suit. He was squatting, not sitting, in the seat of his wheelchair, his forearms resting atop his knees—and he was silently circling them like a shark around its prey. His cold green eyes darted from face to face. He licked his lips, then pressed them tightly together, suppressing a smile. His wheelchair made absolutely no sound at all.
He looped us once, twice, three times, expertly maneuvering his wheelchair with subtle manipulations of a handheld remote control. He circled so close that he could easily have reached out and scratched us—and perhaps he would, I thought; he did have the air of someone planning something nasty—and to make matters even more unsettling, we found ourselves quite inside the wheelchair’s eerie bubble of silence. (Kate was frowning in irritation, having let fly a snappy comment only to have it pass unnoticed, while I, for my part, was grateful no one had heard him whimper.) And still Mr. Curtain circled and circled.
Though helpless to act, none of them wished to give Mr. Curtain the satisfaction of seeing them so frightened, and after his fifth or sixth circuit they stopped twisting to keep their eyes on him when he passed behind them. Fixing our gazes ahead, they endured this bizarre and menacing behavior with what little composure they could manage.

“Where’s Mr. Benedict?” Kate roared, trying to scare Mr. Curtain and decrease her fear.
“Oh, you mean your saviour?” Mr. Curtain answered sarcastically. “And for your information, he’s here. But you have to be locked up to see him. McCracken, now!”
McCracken threw the chain, and Mr. Curtain caught it deftly, and tying us all together, led us to Mr. Benedict. He was locked up in a cell, with his arms and legs tangled together in another chain. “Ledroptha, you know you should really let us go. And I told you, I will tell you the position of the duskwort once you let us go!”
“Oh no. I shall make you tell me, and now.”
He held up a little needle, containing a greenish liquid, which bubbled all the time. I muttered slowly, “It’s… a… truth… serum.”
“Oh yes indeed, George, and do you know where I got it from?”
My mind flashed back a few days ago. I remembered that a group of scientists, located in Ferund, were robbed a few days ago, and many seemed to have laser marks and some were stunned by electricity. That was, of course, the ten men.
“Yes. That was stolen from Ferund!”
“Indeed, George. And now, I shall use it.”
He poked Mr. Benedict with the needle. “Who is the person, who you say is very close to you?”
Mr. Benedict answered with a single word, “You.”
“Me?” said Mr. Curtain, taken aback. His eyes narrowed, and he put his hands over his mouth, breathing into them as if they were cold. It was evident he was attempting to stay calm. “What do you mean, me? How could I possibly secure this information for myself ?”
“You could have done so at any time simply by letting us go, which was the offer I made you repeatedly,” said Mr. Benedict. “Had you released us, I would have revealed the information.”
Mr. Curtain threw his hands into the air. “But you said you didn’t know!”
“I said no such thing.”
Mr. Curtain’s wheelchair bucked forward, and with surprising agility he leaped from his seat and landed inches away from Mr. Benedict. He shook his finger in Mr. Benedict’s face. “And what if I had threatened to hurt your companion? You wouldn’t have revealed it then?”
“I most certainly would have,” said Mr. Benedict. “But it would still have been you who secured the information with your threats.”
“So you phrased it that way to prevent further questioning!” roared Mr. Curtain, finally understanding. “You knew I didn’t want to waste any more serum! You knew I wanted to save it!”
“That was my understanding, yes.” Mr. Benedict returned his brother’s furious look with a calm, inscrutable gaze.
“McCracken!” Mr. Curtain shouted with huge force.
The last thing I saw was McCracken’s watches and Mr. Curtain saying, “Now, you shall suffer.”

#Yao

It had been very heroic of Mr Benedict to so gallantly trick Mr Curtain into wasting his precious truth serum. But now, he was going to pay for it. I watched as Mr Benedict calmly accepted his fate.

“Children, Mr Curtain will never defeat you. Remember my legacy, and hopefully, you can defeat him,” he said. But at that instant, Kate immediately burst out in tears, sobbing her way like a water plant. I almost jumped out of my chains in surprise. Kate had never sniffled before, and crying! Really, this day was a bit too much.

“SOB!! Mr Benedict, how will I…*sniffle* ever repay you for uniting me with Milligan? Oh, please don’t kill him!” she cried. Mr Curtain was obviously enjoying this very much. He seemed to have taken a liking to toy with people before he did something awful to them.

“Yes, it’s terribly indeed, my dear, sweet, girl. But it has to be done. This man, this monster you see here has been poisoning people’s minds. It has to be done, my poor child,” he said, a faint sneer appearing on his face.

“I understand,” Kate said through little squeaks. Mr Curtain smiled, showing teeth as white as a cloud. Then, she grinned, and Mr Curtain was taken back.

“I understand…that you will be blinded!” she cried, squirting pepper spray onto Mr Curtain, who howled in pain and clutched his head like a crazed self-absorbed maniac.

“You upgraded your weapon of choice, I see,” I chuckled.

“Pepper spray is much more efficient than just squeezing a lemon. Plus, I get to look like a cop,” Kate shrugged while untying us using her tool knife. Sticky laughed, trying to keep his glasses from falling to the ground and cracking. As this had all been going on, McCracken had turned around, and was now facing a new threat. The real reason Kate had fake-cried was because Milligan and Rhonda were now on grappling hooks, cutting circles across the window with his laser pen. There had been enough of a ruckus to buy them time.

Now, Milligan was busy beating up all of the Ten Men, and Rhonda had a fine time getting revenge on McCracken.

“This,” she began, striking a hard blow to the large man’s face, “is for Number Two, whom you so rudely kidnapped!”

“This other one,” she told him, kicking his shin, “is for Mr Benedict, also known as my father!”

After Rhonda was finished with McCraken, you could see a flustered, disoriented, and slightly embarrassed man hopping up and down to alleviate the pain on his shin and lower abdomen, and holding his head where several angry bruises had popped up. Rhonda decided to torment another Ten Man. Kate, me, and Sticky helped by striking Ten Man after Ten Man in the body, popping them like moles. Rhonda seemed to enjoy this very much, getting vengeance for her yellow-toned companion and Mr Benedict. We also enjoyed how the Ten Men would hop around in pain after we had finished them off.

Milligan was an one-man army. He put the Ten Men in their rightful places, kicking and punching and firing darts wherever he went. But the battle was not over, no sire. For one thing, Mr Curtain had managed to board his jet, along with some wounded Ten Men, and flew off to wreck horribleness on humanity, once again.

But because Rhonda had pulled off some ultra-nice moves on them, I believed the Ten Men weren’t coming back for a while. Milligan hurriedly untied Mr Benedict from his shackles, and Rhonda checked over and over around him for any signs of abuse or bruises. There were none.

“Where’s Number Two?” I asked, searching the prisons for my constantly-eating companion.

“She…she was moved out,” Mr Benedict said, in a quiet and sad tone.

“WHAT?” Kate cried.

“Mr Curtain decided that it would be best if Number Two was out of the way from contacting me. So, he had her moved to the indigenous tribe. They’re keeping her prisoner,” Mr Benedict said.

“Well, then, we’ll have to rescue her,” Milligan said. “There’s weapons in the plane. Take two each.”

***

Two days later, we had finally arrived at the camp of the local tribespeople. Many people, recognizing us as the enemy who had killed their kin, instantly prepared to kill us. But Milligan had prepared for that, and waved some paper he had managed to find. He had attached the paper onto a lone stick, and was now using it as symbol of peace.

“We want to parley!” he said, but most of them just mumbled about themselves, not comprehending this strange and foreign language.

Finally, a translator was able to get there, and we demanded a meeting with the chief. After staring at our guns, the translator agreed, but on one condition.

“You must put your weapons away,” he said.

“We’ll put them on safe,” Milligan said, in a stern and commanding voice.

“Fine,” the translator said, and the men looked at each other as if they were facing off in a duel. Finally, we were brought to the chief, who was busy eating his lunch. When he saw us, he sighed, and offered Milligan a piece of meat. Milligan declined.

“We would like our companion back,” Milligan told him, in a way that made my skin tingle. The dark eyes of the chief hardened.

“And why should we you her?” he asked.

“Because she is of no use to you. You can do nothing to her. If you were to boil her and eat her, I’ll have the whole US special forces out to get you for cannibalism and murder,” he told him.

“That is true. We gave up ritual cannibalism and torturing enemies a long, long time ago. Two years ago, in fact. But still, there’s a reason you might not know of. I intend to keep her,” the chief said, chewing a fat chunk of root. Milligan growled softly.

“And why would you want to do that?” he asked.

“Because the man who gave it to me, the man who looks just like that one,” the chief said, gesturing to Mr Benedict, “told me that if I kept this prisoner for two weeks, he would come to pick her up and I’d be given twenty sacks of gold,” the tribal chief said, smiling.

“That man, whose name is Mr Curtain, is no longer on this island. He is a jet escaping to a safehouse,” Milligan said to him.

“And why would I believe you?”

“You can choose not to. But when you really come to realize those sacks of gold aren’t coming your way, you’ll truly know what a mistake you’ve made,” Mr Benedict butted in. He made a fake exit, before the chief banged his fists on his table, making the dish almost slide over.

“FINE. You get a deal. I will give you your prisoner. She eats too much, anyways, and doesn’t sleep properly, always waking up the whole village. But I want something in return,” the chief told Milligan. He smiled.

“Anything,” he said, thinking about gold, money, treasure.

“I would like…one of the children.”

dUfU

I knew that Mr Benedict wouldn’t give us up. I was sure of it. He hesitated.
“Which one?” he asked. My certitude faltered. The chief grinned.
“All of them,” he said. Mr Benedict raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled.
“Very well,” Benedict declared. “Anything for the return of my yellow-toned companion,” I felt my jaw drop. I glanced at Reynie and saw my face mirrored in his. By the gasp from Sticky, I deduced that he was probably thinking the same thing. And then everything went black.

When I awoke, The first thing I noticed was that we were not with Mr Benedict. We were in a damp cell with fungus growing along the side. There were bright shades of red, and others were brown. Sticky immediately ran around the room and started picking mushrooms. He asked for a pair of gloves and started throwing some out of a gap. He said that the remaining ones were edible, but some were poisonous when raw. I grabbed some driftwood from a dark corner and felt around for my bucket. My finger knocked against the firm tin wall of my bucket and felt inside. I found a piece of rope and my torch. I hung my flashlight from the ceiling and proceeded to find my box of matches.

When I had finally found my matches, I struck one. I burst into flame, and I set the wood alight. I wrapped the fungi and threw them into the fire. I got them out by getting a pair of tongs and turning and poking them. The thing was, where were we and how were we to get out?

#Bai

Could Mr. Benedict really could have betrayed us? He had always been a leader to us – always helping us when we were trapped, but now? Only for Number Two? Reynie had a theory that it was to test our ability to escape, perhaps just another test? Anyway, we seem to be in the prison which Mr. Benedict had been with Number Two.
“So you’re… turning off the light?” I asked, perplexed.
“I’m looking for the window,” Reynie said, throwing the switch. The room went dark, but not completely so—a faint glow of sunlight filtered out from behind one of the big metal bookcases. “We need to move that bookcase,” he said, turning the light back on.
Kate hurried to inspect the bookcase. “Awfully heavy,” she murmured. “It’ll be noisy to slide it. Anyway, we’ll want to be able to put it back fast. Here, give me a hand with that desk.”
With the boys on one end and Kate on the other, they carried the desk to where Kate wanted it. Then, moving slowly and with the utmost caution, they tilted the bookcase forward until its top rested against the desk. The metal shelves groaned and twanged, but only a little, and after a tense few moments of listening they decided no one was coming to check on them. Crowding into the narrow space behind the tilted bookcase, they peered out the large, dirt-streaked window they had exposed.
“What do you think?” Reynie murmured to Kate. “I still have your rope.”
Kate was craning her neck this way and that. “I’m glad, but it’s not going to be much use. We’re too high up.” She studied the roofs across the courtyard for clues about the roof directly above them, then shook her head. “There’s no good way to climb up, either—not even a gargoyle to lasso, just standard old gutters. Although…” She frowned. “No, never mind, that wouldn’t work.”
“What do you mean, Kate?”
“Well, the problem is that the moss there is too slippery – I couldn’t actually stand on it or escape.”
An idea hit me – the bookshelf!
“Kate, listen. We have these plastic covers from the books -”
“So you can use it to stand on!” Reynie finished.
The plan was complete. Kate, having trained in the circus all her life, would stand on the plastic covers of the books, and then maneuver herself to the next window, and come to unlock us. The only issue was – she didn’t have the code. But I did know something about the lock. Actually, two things. The first was that all codes had to be four digit codes from the selection 1, 2, 3, 4 with no repetition – this was developed in the 20th Century, and it would not shut down if one had gotten the code wrong. So, Kate only had to test the 24 combinations:
1234
1243
1324
1342
1423
1432
2134
2143
2314
2341
2413
2431
3124
3142
3241
3214
3412
3421
4123
4132
4231
4213
4312
4321. It seemed the code was actually 3412.
But where were we to go after that?

 

#Yao

After Sticky so brilliantly deduced the code on the lock, I smiled. Slowly, Sticky opened the window, with the help of a few books, of course, and we all took a look around outside. We were in a small hut in the village. Mr Benedict, Number Two, and Rhonda were no where to be seen.

“Psst!” a voice called out, and Sticky almost tumbled onto me.

“Huh?” a disoriented Sticky asked.

“I know where your guardians are,” the man said, and I soon understood. This man was the translator, and he was trying to help us.

“So? Where are they?” an impatient and confused Kate asked. She was very dazed after Mr Benedict had traded us over just for Number Two. And no, I wasn’t saying Number Two was worthless. It was just that Mr Benedict seemed so…uncaring all of sudden.

“We cannot talk here. The guards are on break. They will soon be back. I must smuggle you to a safer spot,” he told us, and quickly motioned for us to crawl into sacks he was carrying. He made us curl up, so it resembled a sack of wheat. The man briskly walked at a fast pace, but not so fast that it would attract suspicion. Although the man made sure not to give us a rough journey, he somehow did. We were tossed and turned and soon, I felt like throwing up. Sticky’s tongue was out, and he made some sort of gurgle in his throat. Kate didn’t seem bothered at all, which was probably also why she hadn’t gotten seasick on the Shortcut.

The man stopped after around ten minutes of walking. He walked slower now, and pushed what sounded a creaky door open, and set us on a smooth surface. He released the knot, and Kate was able to crawl out and take a look around. The translator was pulling curtains over the window, and he had locked the door. Soon, we were all seated around a table.

“Tea?” he asked, gesturing to the table of bread, smoked fish, fruit, and tea.

“No, than-” Sticky began to decline, but me and Kate were already attacking the table voraciously. Although the boy-who-could-survive-without-food might not need nutrition, me and Kate were starved out of our minds. We hadn’t eaten since the last battle with the indigenous people.

“So, how will you help us?” Kate said, talking between bites of fish and fruit. I slathered some butter and fruit preserves onto a piece of bread and tossed it all into my mouth. Sticky politely nibbled an apricot.

“First, just to clarify, I will help you out of the good of heart. I am not trying to get something, or even turn you over. But, let’s talk business now. I was wandering along the brook when I heard your companions. There were four, a man with hair that was half black and half yellow, a man that looked like the man who just came to camp a few weeks ago, a woman with black-toned skin, and a woman with yellow-toned skin. They were talking about some sort of plan. ‘Milligan’ would distract ‘the enemies’ while ‘Number Two and Rhonda’ would make sure ‘the four’ got out safely. I cannot make out what those words mean, but I’m sure they have meaning to you,” he said. I stopped chomping on an apple.

“Erm, Mr…” Kate began, pausing. Without a doubt, Milligan would distract the guards while Number Two and Rhonda would save us.

“Call me Smoky,” he said.

“Um, Mr. Smoky, sir, when did you hear this,” Kate asked, an expression of worry forming in her eyes.

“About two hours ago. Why?” Smoky asked.

“That must mean they’re carrying out the operation! But we’re not at the hut anymore! They’ll find it emptyhanded, Milligan will have to stall for time, they’ll get suspicious, and then all of them will be captured!” Sticky half-shouted. He had wanted to mutter it under his breath, but really, it was so dramatic and suspenseful and troubling that he needed a louder tone.

“What?” Smoky asked, confused as a bird who had just been shot.

“Mr Translator, I mean, I mean, Smoky, we need to get going. Thanks for your hospitality, and food. We’re sorry for having created such a mess. BYE!” I cried, following Kate, and Sticky out of Smoky’s hut.

“WAIT! Children! Come back! It’s dangerous!” Smoky desperately yelled after us, but it was no use. We were on our way to make sure our trusted companions were not going to be in the wrong hands.

As I sprinted across the muddy swampland, thoughts raced in my head. Would Rhonda and Number Two see us? My prayers were answered, for the two of them burst out of a crowd of guards that instant, followed by Mr Benedict frantically trying to make his wheelchair go faster, and Milligan, firing dart after dart at the incoming crowd.

“Milligan!” Kate cried, wanting to race towards her and punching a piece of her mind onto the soldiers that were now trying to kill her father.

“Kitty-cat!” he cried. Number Two held Kate back from running into certain danger.

“I’m sorry for this! Terribly sorry!” as Rhonda dodged a swinging sword and then did a judo chop to a warrior’s neck, dropping him instantly.

“I’ll hold them back!” Milligan cried, firing rapidly. Kate felt despondent, but blinked back her tears and raced the opposite direction. Mr Benedict frantically moved the wheels of his wheelchair, trying to keep up with our pace.

“For (gasp) once, I (gasp, wheeze) wish I had a (pant, gasp) motorized wheelchair like my twin,” Mr Benedict said, taking in huge gulpfuls of air.

“Where’s you learn to pull a move like that?” I asked, amazed.

“Technically, what Rhonda pulled off so expertly was a knife-hand chop, a move that is considered very popular in Korean martial arts, and if executed to the neck or head with full potential, may actually kill the opponent,” Sticky recalled from a martial arts book he had read. That only made me more awed.

“You learn a few tricks here and there as Mr Benedict’s assistant. And Sticky, I don’t try to kill people,” Rhonda swiftly said. But the question was, after we ran until our legs felt like rubber, where would we go? And would Milligan be safe?

dUfU

I stopped, panting. We couldn’t go on like this. Unlike our heart, our legs would tire easily, and the fact that we spent quite a long period of time with our legs cramped underneath us didn’t help. Reynie collapsed, taking exaggerated breaths so he didn’t die of asphyxiation. I stopped and looked back, hoping desperately that I might see a small figure running towards us. None was there. I sat down on the grass, the soft fronds tickling my palms. I looked up, hoping to see Rhonda saying we could rest, but instead, I saw determined brown eyes looking down at me.

It was Sticky, of all people. He glared at me through his steamed glasses. He pushed me up.
“We can’t rest now,” he said. “We’ve got to go.” He started running again, signalling for us to follow. I looked in amazement at the small wisps of white chalk hanging in the air behind him. I looked at Rhonda, but she just shrugged and started running after him. I looked at Reynie and shoved him awake. I cocked my head at the point where Mr Benedict was hurriedly wheeling himself towards Rhonda, and Sticky had vanished. He got up groggily and hurried towards Mr Benedict.

When we caught up to Sticky, He was turning a pale red in the face. I saw beads of sweat forming on his brow. He finally collapsed, his feet blistered from travelling. Reynie sat down beside him, and I lay down on the ground beside them. We were a ragged group, half tired from walking, the other half ravenously hungry. Number Two produced a battered loaf of bread and a pack of jerky with dried fruit and nuts. We attacked the food desperately, and each drank half a litre of freshwater. All we had to do was wait for Milligan.

#Bai

We had escaped, but would Milligan be fine? And after all, Mr. Benedict had not found duskwort after all, which Mr. Curtain had. We would need to track him down before he could rebuild the Whisperer, we needed to track him down, but a piece of information stung my mind. “Mr. Benedict, isn’t that before on an island, there was a prison which was recently broken in?”
“I believe that is true, yes, and that my brother will be setting up his Whisper there. Now, like from the institute, I shall be watching from the mainland. We will drop you off, and all you have to do this time is sabotage the Whisperer. Here is a piece of paper. Skim read it.”
After reading it, Mr. Benedict and Rhonda were gone. Number Two told us, “I will drop Kate and Reynie, and then you, I. OK?”
We all gave a nod.
The plane began its circle. The plane slowed, and when I stepped through the door he found that the wind was not as strong as he had feared. Kate had told me what to expect, but it was a relief nonetheless. I had to move carefully, but I had no trouble maintaining his footing and his grip. Out onto the step he went, holding on to the wing strut. He looked down. The plane was still over water, but my momentum would carry me forward, and I would be over the shore when I pulled the ripcord. I couldn’t wait any longer or I would end up in the hills.
I was following the routine that Kate had drilled into them. I checked my altimeter, then checked it again. My trembling hand found the rip cord, and at precisely the agreed-upon altitude, I deployed my parachute. The effect was like being yanked upward by a giant hand. I felt his stomach swoop. Then I was floating, drifting in a sudden silence—a silence so profound in its contrast to the roaring of the wind moments before. I began to calm down. Now he could hear the creaking of the parachute lines, the rustling of the nylon canopy as he shifted about, trying to spot the others on the shore far below. He could hear the harbor waters surging against rocks. Now he saw a blinking light—Kate’s flashlight, signaling me—and after locating the two control toggles, I did my best to guide the parachute in that direction. It was a simple system, and he seemed to be sufficiently on course, enough so that his relief grew deeper—until a gust of wind began to pull him seaward.
What would Kate do to save me? Kate just pulled me in, and after a lot of shoving, we managed to get in. Now came the tricky part. The first layer of defence was a maze, a huge indoor maze.
Kate opened a door at random. “Looks like dust and spiders,” she said.
They hurried on.
“That one takes you to what used to be the Memory Terminal,” I said, indicating a door on their left. “We’re getting close to familiar territory now.”
“Right,” said Kate, who had an unerring sense of distance and direction. “We’re just east of what used to be the classroom building.”
“And several meters below, of course,” I said.
At last they came to a door with a sign over it: SECONDARY CONTROL ROOM. It, too, had a simple knob, and with a somewhat dramatic “Here we go!” I turned the knob and shoved against the door, only to thump into it and bounce back. With a sheepish look he tried again, this time pulling on the knob instead of shoving, and the door opened toward him.
“Here we go,” he mumbled.
The room was small and simple: a single desk, atop which stood a computer and some kind of control board; two security-camera monitors mounted on the wall above the desk; and a second door, currently closed. One of the monitors displayed a view of the front plaza and the bridge in the distance beyond it. Both were unoccupied. The other monitor showed the interior of the security door that Kate had opened to let them in. It was still in place. If the Ten Men had reached the island yet, there was no sign of it on the screens.
I slid into a chair at the computer station. “Okay, according to the note, there’s an obvious first step now.”
I took a breath, and recited:
“First learn all that you can learn.
Unlocking with the code
Will burn your chances of return
And blocked will be your road.”

#Yao

We were stunned and confused. What did the code mean or symbolize?

“What this message means is that, well, if we figure out the code, we’ll be trapped on this island?” I asked, studying the riddle. Kate was so confused and furious she wanted to kick somebody, and that somebody was a chair. The chair rebounded against the wall, hitting a panel on the wall, and instantly, as if by a machine, the wall opened up. And with it revealed the Whisperer. But out of the shadows, McCracken appeared, his watches flickering.

“Hello, duckies. It’s nice to see you again. I’m a bit tad sorry your companion isn’t here,” he said, implying towards Rhonda.

“What do you want?” Kate boldly asked, her flask of lemon juice out in a moment.

“I only want your guardian captured. But of course, now that Milligan’s with us, it’ll be quite easy,” McCracken said, a sly grin on his face. Sticky suddenly brightened. McCracken had let off something he shouldn’t have. Milligan was alive! Sticky prompted the large Ten Man on.

“What are you going to do with the Whisperer?” I tried.

“Oh, nothing much. Just brainwash Milligan and then the three of you,” he told us, a whisp of nonchalance in his voice. Kate smiled.

“But what about Mr Benedict? Aren’t you going to try to capture him?” she inquired, trying to look fearful.

“Oh, that old loot is going straight in a prison to rot away. We don’t need him, now that Boss has duskwort all stored up right in this base,” McCracken said, and then suddenly, the grin disappeared. He had noticed what he had said.

“Erm…” Sticky squirmed in his position.

“Oh, told you too much, did I? But don’t worry. You’ll never tell anyone, and I’ll make sure,” McCracken said menacingly, taking out his razor sharp pencils. I nodded to Kate, and she suddenly sprung into action, taking McCracken by surprise.

“Hope you enjoy pepper spray!” Kate yelled, spraying the mist all over McCraken’s nose and eyes.

“It just doesn’t sound right,” I joked to Kate, and she gave me a playful sock on the arm. While McCracken staggered around, I disarmed him, and crunched the pencils with my boots. I pulled out the laser and turned it on.

“Wait, Reynie, you’re not going to actually-” Sticky began.

“Time to see if Kate was right, that these lasers can actually cut off ears,” I threatened, and slowly tested it out on a chair, sizzling it to bits. McCracken, the man who had harmed so many, was now cowering in fear. But of course, it was all just a distraction. In another quick judo chop, Rhonda, who had lowered herself down, was now smiling triumphantly, giving me the thumbs-up. I beamed with pride.

“Children, I’m so glad you’re here! Honestly, I was so worried…” Rhonda told us, hugging us all and shaking her head.

“Rhonda! We just discovered Milligan is okay, Mr Curtain wants to brainwash him, the Whisperer’s right there, and there’s duskwort in this base!” Kate exclaimed quickly.

“Um…” Rhonda stuttered, not sure what to respond.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s explode that device, rescue Milligan, and steal all the duskwort!” Kate tried again, tugging on Rhonda’s sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Kate but we can’t do that,” she said softly.

“What?” Kate cried, tears about to come to her eyes.

“Without Milligan, there’s nobody to protect us. The bulk of our force is gone. It’s too dangerous. We must hope that Milligan will find himself a way to get to safety,” Rhonda said, sorrowfully. Kate turned around so nobody could see her cry. I felt like crying myself. Milligan had been like a father to me, even if Amma was my true parent. Rhonda made sure nobody had heard us, then led us out into the sunlight. The path home was moody and sluggish. Kate was both sad and angered, Sticky kept polishing his spectacles, which really meant nothing since he had always did that before. Soon, Rhonda allowed us to stop for water and some trail mix.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Kate told Rhonda, and she let her go. But for some reason, I wanted to follow her. Kate had never asked Rhonda before to go to the bathroom, or anybody, she just went. Nobody even noticed her. So I knew she had a plan in mind. She wasn’t going to the bathroom. So, I pulled Sticky with me and stalked Kate, watching her as she weaved in and out of the trees, running at times, stopping to look behind her, and sometimes sniffing the air. In a few minutes, Kate had sprinted towards out target, the base where Milligan was being kept. She did a quick check, and was about to sneak into the base when we surprised her.

“AH!” she cried, and clamped her mouth shut when she realized where she was. She pulled the two of us down.

“You two were not part of my plan,” she hissed annoyingly through gritted teeth.

“Hey, so we followed you. Go ahead and sue us,” Reynie said. Kate was about to reply when she noticed Jackson and Jillson patrolling the grounds. Evidently, those two had been rescued from custody. They were heading our way, apparently having heard the scream.

“Hello? Come out, whoever you are!” Jackson cried. Instantly, I sprung into motion. Smearing mud and dirt onto my face and covering my brown hair with leaves and twigs, I slathered on some hasty mud and then tore my shirt off, and rolled around in mud just to give my shorts a worn expression. I acted like I was searching for food.

“You! Come out here!” Jillson cried, waving a stick around. I turned my head, acting surprised as if I didn’t understand what she spoke.

“Jill, it’s just another one of them indigenous people,” Jackson said, putting lowering her stick for her.

“Carry on then,” she said, turning around. That had been a close one.

dUfU

I was shocked at that close brush. I took a deep breath and turned to the boys.
“Right, let’s go now whilst the coast is clear,” I said. They didn’t budge.
“Unless you’re scared,” I added mischievously. They looked at me, offended. I laughed and shoved them and slapped Reynie on the back. I jumped to my feet and ran to the next shadow. The boys stared at me. I beckoned them to come to my spot. They ran over, and I ran to the next shadow. They ran to me, and I realised that Sticky’s glasses were gone. I saw them in the middle of the floor. But then, I heard footsteps.

The sound came closer. I saw feet. They advanced on the glasses. Then walked past them. I sighed with relief. But if I went out, someone might spot me. I realised that this situation was familiar. Of course! I reached into my bucket and pulled out the horseshoe magnet. Wire rimmed Sticky’s glasses. I just hoped it was proper wire. I slid the magnet out, the magnetic ends facing the glasses. The glasses trembled and then stuck to the magnet. I yanked the magnet away from the glasses and handed it to Sticky. He put the glasses on, and I ran to the next shadow.

I got to the end. Nothing. I kicked it. Still nothing. I suddenly had an idea. I found a leafy area and started carving through the dense undergrowth. I got to the back. Solid stone. I should have known. A mad genius would definitely guard his entrance. I flicked the stone. It was dense and solid. Nobody could lift that. I drew patterns on the rock. It shifted slightly. I drew some more. It shifted some more. I slid through the gap and saw Milligan. Bound and gagged.

#Bai

There was Milligan. And he was staring at us. But instead of the warm looks he usually gave us, he gave a frown. Now he seemed more strange and unfamiliar to us, but after a lot of reintroducing ourselves, he finally came back to our senses. Hertz, the Ten Man in the seersucker suit, was in a fight with two vehicles. Spinning, running, lashing out with his necktie (which he held like a bull whip), Hertz snarled and laughed as a sleek black van and the Ten Men’s fake ambulance maneuvered around him like angry elephants—roaring, charging, backing up, and blaring horns. One moment Hertz’s tie would wrap around a door handle and he would start to yank the door open; the next he would have to give up the attack and leap aside as the other vehicle bore down on him. The van kept sounding its horn, and the ambulance its siren, apparently in an attempt to disorient him. His briefcase lay open on the ground, but the vehicles weren’t giving the Ten Man any chance to reach into it; the best he could do was kick it out of the way whenever one started to roll over it.
Through the windows they gaped with wide eyes and wrinkled noses (the odor of burnt rubber reached them even inside the building), trying to determine whether it would be possible to make it to the gate unnoticed. But some seconds passed before they could make any sense of the spectacle—not least because smoke from the madly spinning tires drifted in clouds over the scene, now obscuring one vehicle, now the other. But then a gust of wind momentarily cleared the air, and with a jolt they recognized the drivers of the vehicles: Rhonda and Number Two.
“Whoa!” Kate said.
“They’re unbelievable!” said Reynie.
I nodded, but he was already turning away. “We can’t possibly go out there, though. So what do we do?”
“Let’s go out the back,” Kate said, trotting past him to take the lead. “I’m getting an idea.”
Again they sneaked through the empty corridors, pausing to listen at every odd sound, and at one point narrowly avoiding discovery as two Ten Men burst out of a room and walked quickly toward the front of the prison. (“Are you serious?” one was asking the other. “But wouldn’t that diminish the market value?” The other shrugged and said he only knew what he’d been told.) Luckily the children had smelled cologne in the corridor and slipped through a different doorway just in time.
Now, Milligan suggested, “We should go to the roof, it should be safe there.”
Milligan regarded him seriously. “No,” he said after a moment, “I’m the one who should be sorry. You’ve been so brave—all of you have—I forget what a toll this must be taking on you. But I’m still afraid we’d be tracked down and surrounded if we attempted to hide. I really am sorry, Sticky. You know I’d bustle you out the gate this instant if I could, but I simply can’t risk getting you so close to that fight—not without knowing how it’s going first.”
“Milligan, what if we went to the roof?” Reynie suggested. “From up there we could see everything without getting in harm’s way.”
“Hey, that’s true!” Kate said. “We know where the elevator is, Milligan.”
“Sixty feet from the room where I found you,” Milligan said. “I remember.” He shaded his eyes and looked up toward the roof. “Well, I suppose we could cut through an adjoining wing, come at the elevator from the other direction…” He glanced sidelong at Sticky, whose face had lit up with an expression of intense hopefulness. “All right, that’s not a bad idea. We’ll go to the roof, I can see how Hardy and Gristle are faring, and if there’s a clear path we’ll make a break for the gate. How’s that?”
“Great!” Sticky said, and Kate and Reynie nodded.
“If it looks too dangerous, though,” Milligan warned, “we’ll just have to come back down and keep moving.” He stooped to lift Constance, who was still lying limp on the ground, and set her gently onto Kate’s back again. “We can’t dawdle up there or we might get trapped. Agreed?”
The children, who did rather prefer not to get trapped, agreed.
And so the group of fugitives made their way to the elevator, taking the route that Milligan had settled on. More than once they caught a whiff of expensive cologne, and each time Milligan would stiffen and narrow his eyes—and the children’s hairs would stand on end—but they encountered no more Ten Men. And as the children crowded into the elevator with Milligan and felt themselves begin to rise, they felt their hopes begin to rise, too.
Then the elevator doors opened onto the roof, and the first thing they saw was McCracken.
“Stay in the elevator!” Milligan said, needlessly throwing out his arm to keep them back. Beyond him they could see McCracken engaged in a ferocious struggle with two other powerful figures who were striving to keep his arms pinned.

#Yao

The two mighty figures were Rhonda and Number Two, and they were trying to keep the big man away from reaching his suitcase of deadly accessories. Rhonda was handing out shin kicks to the Ten Man in order to keep him on edge, and Number Two was trying to end the fight quickly so she could have the mango in her shirt pocket. Milligan tried to join the fight, but he was a little too weak to move and he couldn’t shoot his tranquilizer gun because he was worried he might hit Rhonda or Number Two while doing so. However, Kate wasn’t scared of the lumbering con man, and she charged in, spraying mist after mist of pepper spray. Rhonda gave Kate a dirty look, as if to say I thought you were in the bathroom, young lady. If looks could kill, Rhonda’s glare would have shriveled Kate to a wrinkly old hag.

Sticky seemed not sure whether he should protect Milligan or go into the fight himself. But, he decided that it was much safer to just stay where he was and make sure McCracken didn’t step within laser shock-watch distance from Milligan. But suddenly, two Ten Men charged up the stairs, which was the more direct route, and Milligan instantly shot out at them. One dart went so deeply into a Ten Man’s shoulder all you could was a small delicate feather protruding out of the skin.

However, Milligan was too eager to protect me and Sticky, so he pulled the trigger before the weapon’s recoil had fully occurred. Thus, the needle dart had jammed halfway in the gun. Milligan tossed it aside, and frantically tried to locate his secondary weapon, which was a non-lethal beanbag shotgun. However, being in such a weak state, he could not slide back the pump. He handed the gun to me.

“Just aim for their arms or legs. If you want to give a real whipping, aim for the abdomen, but nowhere else. I guess I can give them a cracked rib. After all, they gave me a cracked rib,” Milligan ruminated. I pumped the action with slight difficulty, and raised it. The weapon was much heavier than I thought. Kate would much more accustomed to this. Better yet, if we had Moocho Brazos, Kate’s friend and farmhand, Moocho would probably be able to swing the shotgun around like a toy, knocking the Ten Man to the ground. Focus, Reynie, focus. I reminded myself. I raised my eye to the iron sights, slowly aiming for the Ten Man’s chest. But just as I pulled the trigger and the beanbag lurched towards him, the Ten Man deflected it, using great reflexes, by utilizing his suitcase as a shield.

The Ten Man’s briefcase exploded, showering dagger pencils, exploding calculators, laser pens, and poisonous chewing gum. Lucky for Rhonda, Number Two, and Kate, one of the exploding calculators had landed right on McCracken’s head, and he blew up. Well, technically, he didn’t blow up completely. He was only knocked away, for his great stature prevented him from getting frayed by the explosion. However, he was out cold. On the other hand, there was still another Ten Man charging towards me, and although this Ten Man wasn’t as huge as McCracken, he was certainly just as dangerous. I reloaded and fired again, this time, without any protection, the Ten Man was forced to protect his rib with his hand.

The beanbag left a nasty bruise on the Ten Man, and he stood there for a moment, rubbing his hand. Number Two and Rhonda leapt into action. Rhonda slugged the Ten Man across his cheek, and Number Two squashed the mango up onto his eyes. Now, he couldn’t see. Rhonda and Number Two then simultaneously knocked a kick towards his head, rendering him knocked out. Kate, angered by the treatment of her father from these monsters, then landed a swift stomp to the chest, which, if the Ten Man had been still breathing, would have been very painful indeed.

But now was not the time for reunions, for at that moment, several Ten Men had begun storming up the stairs, taking the elevator, and climbing the ladder. We were surrounded on both fronts. But suddenly, a helicopter roared in from the sky, and Captain Noland was in it, along with Mr Benedict and Cannonball. They landed on the roof, and Captain Noland began lobbing hard, dark blocks.

“What are those? Some sort of handmade explosive?” I inquired.

“Frozen navy coffee. Shame to waste these beauties, but, after all, Mr Benedict save my life. Now, it’s my turn to save yours,” he told me.

The frozen navy squares were having a devastating toll on the Ten Men, who were now being repelled at a great distance. Cannonball, true to his name, had even made up an invention which resembled a six-barreled cannon. It fired the coffee chunks in a fast, revolving cycle.

“Quick, get on the copter!” Captain Noland cried. We were finally getting off the island.

dUfU

I sat down on a seat. I looked below as the wind roared in my ears. Loose strands of hair flew around and whipped me in the face. Some caught my eyes, causing them to water. I blinked the water from my eyes. The lack of doors in the copter made me slightly anxious, but I forgot it quickly.
It made me feel like I was flying, drifting along with the fluffy white clouds on ethereal wings. I gazed at the blue oceans and misted skies. A long slurping sound jolted me out of the moment I longed to savour.

It turned out it was Milligan. He was drinking some of the “warm” navy coffee. He turned his face to me and pulled a disgusted expression, and raised his eyebrows. He turned to Cannonball, his eyebrows still raised.
“It’s got an – an interesting taste,” he said delicately. While Joe wasn’t looking, he grabbed a bottle of water and rinsed his mouth with it, spitting the excess water out of the side. He sat back, relaxed. I looked at the birds soaring beside us. It was a scenic view, and for once, I felt relaxed. I looked at the boys. Asleep.

They were dead asleep, their heads lolling to the side. They were breathing slowly, their breathing causing small puffs of air in the sky. I closed my eyes and let sleep overcome me.

I woke up in a helicopter, my legs bunched up uncomfortably under me. We were home. I got into my room. It felt… different. Something wasn’t right. Mr Benedict had changed. He wasn’t angrier, not sadder, not a physical change. He was just… not the same. It was hard to describe. It was as if one strand of his DNA had been replaced. Replaced by McCracken’s.

#Bai

There was something definitely strange about Mr. Benedict. It could have been the proxyia effect, which I had read about in a recent study – the impact of intense events. But this was different. Perhaps, it was Mr. Curtain, who had escaped from the island and begun his new plan, trying to get to us? I called Reynie and Kate over. “He’s definitely changed. We have to somehow test whether he’s Mr. Curtain.”
“How would we do that?”
“Let’s ask him about what his plan was to take over the world. If he’s Mr. Benedict, he should say the information we gave him. If he’s Mr. Curtain, he should give a detailed response.”

We went on to Mr. Benedict’s room; after knocking, we entered. Posing the question to Mr. Curtain, he answered, “My plan?”
Then he realised his mistake. He called a number, and then the power went out, in which case he left the room, leaving us in darkness. “We have to find Mr. Benedict. But the whole city’s power has gone off.”
“The whole city?”
“Look downtown,” Reynie said. “Normally you can see the tops of some buildings from here.”

Sticky couldn’t bring himself to look, but Kate saw that Reynie was right. Where there should have been lights shining from the top stories of Stonetown’s taller buildings, now there was only blackness.

In the distance a siren wailed; some of the neighborhood dogs began to howl along. Then they heard Mr. Bane and Ms. Plugg shouting back and forth to each other from opposite sides of the house. Mr. Bane, standing on the back steps, was saying something about his radio, which appeared to have stopped working. Ms. Plugg shouted back that hers was out, too.

“Their radios are out?” Sticky said. “Oh no, this isn’t normal. This isn’t right.”

They looked gravely at one another.

“I can’t hear you!” Mr. Bane shouted, and they watched him trot around to the front of the house.

No sooner had he rounded the corner than Reynie noticed something in the lane. A large, shadowy mass, darker than the darkness through which it moved. The shadow moved smoothly down the lane the way a car might, but it was much larger than a car. And unlike a car, it made absolutely no sound.

“Kate!” Reynie hissed. “Do you—”

“I see it!” Kate pointed her flashlight out through the darkness. By the time it reached into the lane the beam was wide and diffuse, but there was no mistaking the familiar shape it fell upon.

Sticky’s breath escaped him with an audible whoosh. He reached for Reynie’s arm only to find Reynie grabbing for his.

“Not good,” said Kate.

The Salamander was crowded with Ten Men.

As they fled the room Reynie kept seeing the terrifying image in his mind’s eye: the elegant men with their briefcases, standing in the armored vehicle like business executives on a commuter train.

“Head for the front door!” Kate said, slapping her flashlight into Sticky’s hand. “I’ll warn the chamber guards!”

The boys didn’t even think to argue. Stumbling and tripping in their panic, the flashlight beam skidding wildly across walls, ceilings, the floor again, they raced down the stairs, flight after flight. From above they heard Kate shouting her warning to the chamber guards (they were taken aback and she had to repeat herself twice), and then as they descended the final flight of stairs they felt a body rushing past them in the darkness—Kate sliding down the banister. She had her penlight clenched between her teeth; by the time the boys reached the bottom she was directing it at the alarm keypad by the front door.

The warning light was off. Kate’s fingers flew across the keys anyway, but there were no familiar chirping sounds. “Alarm’s out,” she said, speaking around the penlight.

No alarm, no radios, no power. No help.

#Yao

I slowly realized we were being attacked. Attacked by a large group of Ten Men. Milligan was out trying to contact government agents, Rhonda and Number Two had went off to the markets, and Mr Benedict (Mr Curtain) was nowhere to be found. We had, however, found a rope, which meant he had slid down his window and joined his recruits. We were all alone.

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad,” Sticky kept muttering to himself. He was frantically shining his glasses, although he didn’t really know whether he was doing it right because he couldn’t see. None of us could see, except Kate. She was used to having to find her way to the circus tent after dark from gathering firewood. Pretty soon, Kate managed to get her flashlight back on.

“Well at least we have a source of light,” Kate said. The flashlight, out of batteries, then instantly flickered off. Kate groaned.

“Well, we had a source of light,” I moaned.

“Why don’t we try getting to Milligan’s room? He has a bunch of flashlights. We can also load up on bean-bag shotguns, flash-bang grenades, and tranquilizer guns and darts,” Sticky suggested.

“Great idea!” Kate said, and smacked Sticky in the back. However, since Sticky couldn’t see the the oncoming assault, he fell smack into the fridge, his glasses crumpling to the ground. Now, Sticky couldn’t see, and he had an angry bruise! I took out a six-pack pudding. I applied two to Sticky’s angry bump, gulped down two, offered one to Kate, but she said she didn’t like chocolate pudding, but instead preferred vanilla. Sticky was quite hungry, so he practically ate the containers of the remaining two pudding cups. Sticky was so blind without his glasses he couldn’t see whether there was a potato or toilet in front of him.

Slowly, Kate and I guided Sticky up the stairs. He stumbled once or twice, but we quickly caught him before he got a serious injury. Slowly, we reached Milligan’s room. We each got two flashlights, in case the first one went out. I got a beanbag shotgun with ten beanbag shells, and a dart gun. Kate got two rubber bullet pistols with double holsters, and tasers. Sticky even managed to find spectacles. It turned out Milligan needed glasses when he went undercover, so this one was a perfect fit. Sticky didn’t want anything, but we forced him to have a large shield just in case a Ten Man used a pencil or exploding calculator.

Soon, we got the courage to enter the maze. We turned off our flashlights, then navigated by memory. I could feel a small tingling in me, and I suddenly felt a familiar cologne entering my nostrils.

“Well, hello, duckies,” a rich-sounding voice slowy slurred. I instantly stopped.

“Stand back. We have weapons!” Kate called out. She pulled out both pistols. I loaded my shotgun. Sticky slowly shivered behind the giant shield. Suddenly, I felt a body tackle me to the ground, the familiar cackle of the shock-watches. I raised my rifle to deflect the blow, but it was useless. I felt a stinging pain, but then, just as I began to drift in and out of the world, Kate rushed in and shot the Ten Man around six times, creating huge angry bruises all over his body. I smiled. Sticky was actually doing pretty good with his giant shield, using blunt force to knock Ten Men to their feet without even realizing it. I fired my shotgun until it ran out of ammunition, and then I fired the tranquilizer until one jammed and the other was struck with a Ten Man’s sharp pencil. I took both of my flashlights, and shine it around the room, putting it right into the enemy’s eyes.

I was feeling pretty good about everything when I felt a kick to my back, and I would wake up in somewhere I least expected.

dUfU

I felt an intense pain in my back. My eyes flew open, and I felt another intense cramp hit my back. I waited for my vision to adjust to the darkness, and the blurriness vanished. Another cramp hit my back. I, again, waited for the blurriness to stop and looked at the boots of the Ten Men. Spurred. Of course. What did I expect? Soft soles that would nourish my back. Phh. Of course not. I saw a flash of silver and gritted my teeth, and hunched my shoulders against the forthcoming pain. But it never came. A hand caught it.

It was Curtain, surprisingly. He was outraged.

“She’ll suffer more pain if you stop. She’ll get used to it in a while, and it won’t hurt as much,” he said, letting the Ten Man go. I had to admit he did talk sense. I touched the area that had been spurred. I had to writhe around in the ropes for a while, but then I got to it. The flesh was tender there, and I winced as I brushed my finger across the broken skin. I slid my and back and nudged Reynie. Unconscious. Impulsively, I reached to my side for my bucket. But, of course, it wasn’t there.

I should have known. It was an inch away from my feet. I stretched, but it was futile. I suddenly remembered a trick from the circus. I lay down and arched my back into a graceful side backbend. I grabbed my bucket and dug around in it. Empty. I saw my real bucket in front of Sticky. Clever. Put it in front of the most unflexible of us three. I sighed. I detached the handle from the fake bucket and sawed at the ropes. I saw some strings fall loose. When it was held with a single string, I stopped. I Brought my hand up and snapped the rope. I moved over to my bucket, my legs still tied, and got out my knife. I sawed myself loose. Now, what to do?

#Bai

I woke up to a brutal shaking by Kate. I finally rolled over, with my spectacles back on which had been “accidentally” destroyed. How to escape? Until I looked around, I was totally unaware of the fact we were on another island. Reynie cast a nervous glance toward the passage behind them, then began to study the cavern floor, searching for human-shaped shadows. Was Mr. Curtain hiding behind a stalagmite, ready to burst out at the right moment? Kate tugged his arm and pointed. Far off to their left was an opening in the cavern wall, beyond which there appeared to be a separate chamber, equally well lit. It, too, was thick with stalagmites and stalactites, and at first glance had seemed part of the cavern in which they stood. Reynie felt a rush of hope. If Mr. Curtain was in that other chamber, they might be able to free Mr. Benedict without ever encountering his wicked brother.

 

“What do you think?” Kate whispered to Reynie.

 

It was a soft whisper, but even so, Mr. Benedict’s eyes sprang open. The effect was disconcerting  –  no matter that he was their friend and they were here to rescue him  –  and the children, startled, almost cried out.

 

“You’re here?” Mr. Benedict whispered, his expression incredulous. “But how  – ?” He cut himself off and whispered urgently, “Never mind! Listen to me, children. There’s little time. You must destroy the duskwort! We can’t let Ledroptha discover its whereabouts!”

 

“But we have no idea where it is!” Kate whispered. “You’ll have to show us!”

 

Mr. Benedict frowned. “You don’t know? But I thought . . . Never mind. It’s all right. Just  –  wait. Hold still a moment. Be quiet now. There he goes.”

 

The children, frozen in their spots, swiveled their eyes all around. A movement beyond the opening in the cavern wall caught their attention  –  and then they glimpsed what appeared to be a human head and torso floating past in the other chamber. A prickling sensation traveled up everyone’s spine. Constance gave a muffled whimper. The ghostly sight would have been frightening even if they hadn’t known what it actually was. But they did know. There had been no mistaking Mr. Curtain in his wheelchair. They’d seen that long, lumpy nose and shock of white hair, and the gliding motion was undeniably that of something rolling across the ground. Yes, they had all seen it, and yet, strangely, none of them had heard it. Reynie thought this must be a trick of acoustics, some bizarre effect peculiar to the cavern.

 

Regardless, Mr. Benedict had somehow sensed the wheelchair passing by; and he seemed to sense, too, when it was safe to speak again. He nodded at the children. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “But he’ll come back any moment. You must hurry!”

 

Reynie’s arms were covered in goose bumps. “What should we do?”

 

“Untie my hands,” Mr. Benedict said. “Hurry now, and we’ll escape together!”

 

Reynie hesitated. Something seemed amiss, but in the urgency of the moment he couldn’t immediately identify it. Kate, though, had already taken out her Army knife  –  cutting through a rope was obviously faster than untying it  –  and she began hurrying toward Mr. Benedict just as I yanked on Reynie’s arm. With a flash of horror, Reynie understood the reason for his misgivings: Mr. Benedict would never have asked them to untie him  –  not when lingering here so clearly jeopardized their safety. No, Mr. Benedict would have told them to run. Reynie dashed after Kate, waving his arms. Not daring to cry out (for fear of a Ten Man lurking in the other chamber) he whispered, “Kate, stop! Stop!”

 

Kate heard him and looked back, which was exactly the worst thing she could have done. She had already drawn too close to Mr. Curtain  –  for it could be none other than Mr. Curtain leaping to his feet with such a look of malevolent triumph  –  and before she understood what was happening, the wicked man had seized her.

 

Reynie charged in at full tilt. But no sooner had Mr. Curtain grabbed Kate than he let her go, and as Kate slumped to the floor with a stunned expression, Reynie noticed the shiny, silver gloves on Mr. Curtain’s hands  –  one of which shot forward and took him by the arm. Instantly he felt as if a fireworks display had been launched inside him; his body seemed composed of a million white-hot sparks. It was astonishingly painful, and Reynie’s relief was intense when the fireworks faded, leaving what appeared to be a clear black sky. Or no, not sky . . . Reynie opened his eyes and saw Mr. Curtain’s blurry, smiling face floating above him. Then he felt something cold, hard, and metallic tightening around his wrist.

 

“Not again,” Reynie mumbled, still dazed.
“Oh yes,” said Mr. Curtain. “Again.”
But then I saw Mr. Benedict, the true and real one.

#Yao

Mr Benedict was still in his wheelchair, but he was followed by a team of government operatives. They were all impeccably dressed in black, with mostly guns at their sides or in their hands. They carried handcuffs, ready to detain Mr Curtain. But the wicked and evil man just grinned up at them.

“Anybody who dares come near my captives will suffer a shocking surprise,” Mr Curtain said, laughing at his play on words. The agents produced a multitude of long-range weapons including firearms, throwing knives, dart guns, and crossbows. One agent even had a few rocks for throwing. Mr Curtain was ready to do battle with them all. Just as the agents were about to let loose their incredibly heavy arsenal, Mr Benedict stopped them.

“I try to harm as few lives as possible. We must detain him without using any harmful objects,” Mr Benedict explained.

“Sir, that’s impossible, we don’t-” the biggest and the most burly agent said, loading his handgun.

“I won’t hear of it. If you don’t rescue them using a peaceful manner, I’ll tell your bosses that 20 of you, highly trained middle-aged government officials, couldn’t rescue three children and a prized secret agent from one old man without using your guns,” Mr Benedict threatened. They all lowered their heads in shame. Mr Curtain, meanwhile, was smiling from ear to ear. His gloves flickered, as the electricity formed in them. The officials decided to use the “triangle attack”. This attack was quite simple, but had worked on most enemies.

First, five agents would go forth and purposefully shoot wide of the target, making him intimidated and scared. Then, a harmless smoke grenade would be set off, and all of the agents would line up in a triangle, surrounding the target, except for one. While the target is concentrated in determining how to take on so many foes, the last agent is secretly on a grappling hook, slowly lowering himself down to the target. As soon as the target stands still, it’s one quick move to place a knock-out gas napkin on the target’s nose, and then good-bye. Mr Benedict agreed to this plan.

However, it did not go as planned. As soon as the five agents began shooting at the walls, Mr Curtain took the liberty of striking first with four distraction grenades. He then took out all five of the agents with shocks, rendering them KOed. I surveilled my surroundings for help. Mr Curtain had handcuffed me, so I was in a tight position, but I managed to notice a small silver object on the floor near to me. I wriggled like a worm, and managed to take a closer look at it, I noticed it was a pin of a distraction grenade. Mr Curtain must have pulled it off to activate the explosive. Luckily, a dazed agent was near me, lying on the floor.

“Hey, could you use this pick to unlock my cuffs?” I asked him. The agent looked at me with a weary and confused look.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, sure. Of course, kid,” he slurred, and picked my lock.

“Thanks,” I said, and rubbed my sore hands.

“No problem, no problem,” the man muttered as he laid himself back on the floor. I was free! I grabbed a wooden chair and smashed it into Curtain’s back, toppling him over. I then used the pin to unlock Kate and Sticky’s grenades, and Kate awoke. She grabbed her bucket and snuck up on Curtain, who was rubbing his head from my blow, and put it over his head. He muffled something that resembled a curse word, and began twitching every which way. I released a pack of marbles that Pati had given me as a present (she still thought I needed to socialize more with the boys who always played marbles near our new apartment) and released them. Mr Curtain stumbled and staggered, every which way.

He tried to hold on to something, but he was obviously not used to this room, for he ended up in a twisted heap on the ground. The marbles, sadly, had mostly cracked due to Mr Curtain’s heavy boots, and I felt a surge of guilt as I imagined telling Pati what had happened to them. But he knew she would understand it was for the greater good. Soon, Mr Curtain was bound, gagged, and being interrogated. I felt very good about myself.

“Good thinking out there, kid,” special agents would tell me as they walked by me to collect the duskwort and bring it outside to set on fire. Kate and Sticky were very stiff, and I could hear their bones crack as they stretched. Surprisingly, when offered some scraps of bread, figs, and water, we waved them off, not hungry at all. Me, Sticky, and Kate stayed behind to talk about what we would do when we got off of this island. Mr Curtain would be in jail, plus all of the Ten Men taken prisoner. But just as we were about to go through the open garage door, a crackly voice sounded behind us.

“Hello, duckies. Time to settle this. It’s just the three of you, versus me. Bye-bye!”

 

dudu:

I whipped around, my hair stinging the person behind us in the process.

“My, my duckies. I would advise you to watch your hair,” he said. Well, I assumed it was a he. But, surprisingly, it was a woman. Two ten men were standing behind her. One was McCracken, and the other was one I did not recognise. I turned back to the woman. She was carrying a clipboard in her left hand and a pen in her right. She had a short bob of blonde curls and captivating green eyes. I stared into those serpent eyes for what seemed like forever.

I saw her eyes narrow, and her pupils became slits. Her voice became slurred, and her whole form seemed to be melting. She didn’t seem to be shocked. She only stared at me, her face remaining expressionless. She seemed to be seeping into the ground, taking whatever grotesque shape she could. Then, she rose, forming an exact copy of Curtain. I looked around and saw that all the people, except for us, had formed into Curtain, filling the whole area with Curtains. They all did the same movements except for two. One would be a clone, and one would be Mr Benedict.

I ran up to them. They were stood side by side, staring off into the distance. I looked at them. The clone must have been genetically told to copy Mr Benedict. I suddenly remembered a lesson with Mr Benedict.

“Nurture, not nature, will show you who someone is. The way that they have been brought up will show who they are.” Both of the figures standing in front of me smiled as if they knew exactly what I was thinking.

I walked over to the wrong Mr Benedict, and I asked him,

“What is dear to you most,” I asked, and he did not reply. I smiled. He would be waiting for Mr Benedict to answer. Victory was ours.

#Bai

“Not even I can break it,” said McCracken, wrapping the other end of the chain around one of the shelter’s wooden beams and securing it with a padlock. He winked. “And I’m good at breaking things.”

“Stop socializing with them, McCracken,” Martina snapped. “Give me the key to the handcuffs.” She thrust her hand out peremptorily, and McCracken, with an unconcealed smirk, put the key very daintily into her palm. The children stared at the key, which seemed the perfect symbol of their predicament. They were now in the hands of Martina Crowe.

And Martina Crowe hated them with a passion.

 

Martina looked imperiously at the bespectacled Ten Man and barked, “Find me something to sit on, Sharpe!” Then she ordered Garrotte, who had just returned with a lantern, to place it on the floor in the center of the room. And finally she snapped her fingers at the fourth Ten Man (a bald man with only a single eyebrow — the one over his left eye — which gave him a perpetually wry expression), and barked, “Close the door, Crawlings!”

Reynie watched Crawlings bar the door with a feeling of great desolation, as if it were his own tomb being sealed. He hoped Milligan had only been delayed, but when Milligan came back — if he came back — how could he rescue them if he was locked outside? He’d chosen this building for its sturdiness, after all. And even if he did manage to get inside, Milligan would still be greatly outnumbered, and the children would be chained up and couldn’t even make a run for it.

Crawlings joined the other Ten Men by the lantern, where Martina had ordered them to gather. Sharpe, the bespectacled Ten Man, had failed to find her a seat, and Martina gave his briefcase a covetous glance but said nothing. Evidently the briefcases were off limits to her. No doubt she hated that.

“Well, McCracken,” Martina said, “do you want to explain how she got away?”

“She hasn’t gotten away,” McCracken responded. He was casually picking his teeth with the sharp end of the pencil that had been stuck in the beam. Reynie had watched him pull it from the wood as easily as one might draw a thumbtack from a bulletin board. Kate had seen it, too, and her jaw had dropped.

“She hasn’t gotten away?” Martina said with a sneer. She glanced around the shelter and threw up her hands. “I don’t see her. Where is she? Is she hiding behind one of these beams?”

“She’s in the woods. Sharpe saw her heading into the trees, and I had him blow the tunnel entrance so she can’t cut through to the other side of the island. We can track her down that much faster now.”

“Then why aren’t we tracking her?”

“I thought perhaps we should deal with the little darlings first,” McCracken said. “They didn’t materialize out of the air, you know. Someone must have brought them. Better to find out right away who it was, don’t you think?”

#Yao

Kate seemed ready to free herself from her bonds. We all knew the person that had been running away was certainly Rhonda. Rhonda had told us that she would be heading out just for a quick run to the market for some potatoes, lettuce, ham, bacon, and cheese. She would be the only one who really could plumb out where we were just by looking at the clues. A visage of triumph appeared on Sticky’s face, but he instantly wiped off his face, after remembering where he was. Rhonda must have found our location, but why was she running away from it was now the question we needed to answer. Possibly, she was getting backup?

“Well, who do you think put them here?” Martina asked impatiently. McCracken and his men had just returned, and they were fidgeting.

“Um-we need more time. We haven’t surveilled the whole region yet. There’s no sign of parachutes, anything,” one of the Ten Men said.

“Rubbish! You won’t get any more breaks till we track down the person who put them!” Martina screamed, pointing her index finger at the cowering Ten Men. However, McCracken didn’t move a bit.

“Actually, I know who brought them here,” McCracken said, not even flinching. Martina gave him the look of a castle that was insuperable, stubborn…and strong.

“Ha! Listen to him, fools! He is more of a Dumb Man than a Ten Man!” Martina cackled, laughing to her own bad joke. The Ten Men had learned by now that when Martina expected you to laugh, you laughed like a donkey trying to remove its head. They joked and intermittently forced laughter out of their mouths. McCracken tried to tell her, but she waved him off like a pesky little fly.

“Rhonda’s here!” I whispered to Sticky.

“Yeah, we heard,” Kate butted in.

“We should stall them, so they don’t end up trying to kill her when the time comes!” Sticky suggested. We all agreed. Martina finally settled down enough to listen to what McCracken had to say.

“We discovered them lying down in a swamp, and I decided to go back there on my own. I found a piece of scrap metal belonging to a seaplane that could only be the one and only Milligan’s. Then, I noticed three pieces of white cloth that can only be explained as parachutes. The bigger pieces must be at the bottom of the swamp. Then, I could tell that a fourth person must have been with them for a while, because there were four sets of footsteps. However, they parted just when they came to the tunnel. The only place Milligan couldn’t possibly have gone through. So, it’s easy. After the encounter in the maze, Milligan rescued these children, then came here with them to destroy the duskwort that was hidden. The agents who had fought off Mr Curtain using the renowned ‘Triangle Attack’ were so stupid and ignorant they forgot to take duskwort, but instead, made a flamboyant show of things just to make off with some thwart-wort. Ah, such destitution of the brain. But, that means our enemy Milligan is here somewhere, and it also means we’re about to pound him,” McCracken told Martina.

Martina studied this information for a bit, then smiled. She began setting a timer on her phone. In two minutes and four seconds, Milligan burst in, his stun gun ready. But there was a rowdy crowd of Ten Men waiting. An epic battle staged, one that Milligan was bound to lose. We needed to help him, but how?

We were just children, after all. Or were we?

dUfU

We couldn’t win the battle. There was no doubt. Unless… No. It wasn’t possible. The possibility kept wandering back but evaded my grasp when I reached out for it. I slipped to the left, avoiding the incoming Ten Man charging at me in full tilt. I saw Number Two pummeling Sharpe, who was holding her squished but precious mango. Rhonda was battling a not-so-fine Crawlings, and Mr Curtain was jumping on a document in a blind rage. Reynie and Sticky, however, were not so good. They were dangling from McCracken’s hands by their legs, twisting and turning in a futile effort to escape.

I ran over, jumping over a dazed Sharpe with mango juice trickling into a pool around him. I grimaced at him and carried on. I crept around Crawlings and ran at McCracken. He fell to his knees, shocked by the impact. Milligan reloaded his dart gun in a shadowy corner, but Crawlings approached him, his one eyebrow wriggling in excitement. I screamed at him until my voice cracked, but it was fruitless. I shouted his name repeatedly, but again, it was all in vain. Crawling grabbed him.

“Put the dart gun down,” he said forcibly. Milligan dropped it and kicked it away for good measure.

“It is right that we’ve got Milligan? Was the girl with the ponytail right?” Crawlings asked mockingly. Milligan nodded miserably, with a defeated look in his eyes. Crawling’s eyes lit up, obviously excited for another chance to mock him. 

“Look, boys! It’s the famous Milligan wrapped up in chains!” he said, almost laughing at the concept of my father in their hands. 

“Are you comfy?” McCracken asks, his voice filled with derision. I looked at them, and I saw Milligan. He was fidgeting with his fingers. I looked closer and found that it was Morse code.

Go. Now. Go. Now.

It repeated like this. There was nothing I could do except run. So that is what I did.

#Bai

We ran. That was what we did, although abandoning Milligan to fight the Ten Men was not a particularly great experience for him, and for us. Instead, we ran to a nearby museum, which we knew Mr. Benedict would be staying. ”

 

Reynie nodded. “So we should go to the museum first.”

 

 

 

 

We passed the street Wiseman Lane of the way here, only a few people lived there.

 

The journal, an old, warped, cheaply constructed book, was held together by a binding that, given its deteriorated state, was rather more of an idea of a binding than an actual one. The other papers were equally decrepit, all quite yellow with age, and some of them as fragile as onion skin. Not without trepidation, Reynie slid the pile closer to me. The others watched with keen attention. I gave his spectacles a once-over with his polishing cloth, and then — carefully, anxiously — he opened the journal.

 

“Right,” I said. “Mr. Benedict has placed a note in this paper. He knows what has happened. In order to save Milligan, we need to find this weapon stock, with this riddle:
By the whistling pine
three wise men.”
“Maybe it’s a church, because you know, there is a myth about Christianity.” said Reynie
“So I suppose we need to look for a church?”
“Wait,” I said, “Look out of the window.”
There it was: Wiseman Lane.
“Number Three. There it is.”

Then, a man came in. He began speaking about the papers. “Ah. The beginning is very troubling,” said Mr. Schuyler. “You see, these papers legally belong to our library, but an American man — the son of the papers’ original owners — argues that he has claim to them. I had told him he is free to pursue the matter in court, and if the court decides in his favor, he shall have the papers. In fact, I have no doubt the court will decide in his favor. But until that decision has been made, the papers must remain in the library! That is simply the way of it.

 

“This man, however, comes to the desk one morning and asks to see these papers. It is a free and public library, so of course he is given the permission to do so. Afterward he tells me who he is and asks if I have ever seen him before. I tell him I have not, which is true. Sometimes he uses a wheelchair, he says. Has nobody in the library noticed him before? I assure him that I have not, and Sophie assures him that she has not, either. Do you agree this is what happened, Sophie?”
“You called the police,” Reynie said, privately admiring Mr. Benedict’s ingenuity, for it was plain to him what Mr. Benedict had done. First he’d determined whether Mr. Curtain had ever seen these papers (that was why he’d asked if the librarians recognized him). Then he’d tried to make sure that if his twin ever did come to the library, he would be arrested.

 

 

“The American man,” Mr. Schuyler went on, “asked to see all the materials he had examined that morning. He said he understood there had been an unfortunate incident at the library and wished to verify that the materials were still here. As if he had not committed a crime himself! As if he had never called me on the telephone admitting to it! The nerve of this man!”

 

 

“Well, as you might suppose, I was clever,” said Mr. Schuyler. “I gave no sign of distress, the better to lay my trap. He seemed in a hurry this time, and he wanted to photocopy everything — every single page of the journal and letters — to take with him. I told him that with such delicate materials we must use a special machine, and a librarian must make the copies. This is actually true, but that does not make my plan less clever. Not when you consider that as Sophie made the copies, I secretly called the police and told them to come at once, but not to use their sirens. Do you see what I was up to, children? This way there was no warning! When the copies were finished, and the man and his companions took the elevator to the lobby, they were met by the police. It was all very clever, I assure you. But they escaped by the fire exit! Damn them!”

 

How were we going to get into that house?

#Yao

The man must have been working for Mr Curtain, but why? The man seemed to want to get the papers very quickly, for he had the most time in the world. Plus, Ten Men must have been guarding him, posing as employees. So why? The answer came quickly, in a way I most unexpected. Soon, we were walking along the streets of the bustling Dutch city, admiring everything and trying to ignore our stomach rumbles, and just searching for the house he spoke of when a car came along, its sirens blazing.

“It’s a police car. I can read the characters,” Sticky bragged.

“As if we didn’t already know,” Kate teased, rolling her eyes dramatically. However, this was no silly matter. The police car pulled up and we froze.

“Nobody move,” I said, staring at the two police officers. Was it just me, or were their two handguns now a lot more scary. And oh, let’s not forget the batons and handcuffs and pepper spray. One of them even had a shotgun, which I suppose was for patrolling. Or was it?

Soon, the police officers approached us.

“Children, you can move again,” the police officer with the shotgun said, in perfect English. The other cop wrote down something onto a notepad and passed it to his partner, who looked at it. I tried to peek, but the barrel of the big gun was blocking my view.

“Have you heard of the recent incident at the library?” the policeman with no shotgun asked in a loud tone.

“We’ve been informed, but we know nothing about it,” Sticky said, truthfully. Sure, we knew the guys were probably Ten Men, but we technically weren’t sure.

“If you do not know, four workers have been injured, and the culprit was said to have been searching for the papers. Apparently, a leak went out that the boss, Mr Schuyler, had phoned the police, and so, suddenly, six men dressed in black with suitcases barged into the public area and injured many. We are currently wondering how they managed to evade our patrols, and we know they have the papers. However, thanks to the library’s security guard, we were able to obtain one sheet of paper that might explain their motives. We currently ask that anybody who visits the library and inquires about the papers be arrested and brought to the station,” Shotgun Man said. I gulped. Soon, we were being dragged off to the police station.

There, we were brought to a desk with a kind secretary and a very mean-looking interrogator. He began to ask us in a very formal manner, but then began speaking in a louder tone, obviously annoyed by our fake alibis.

“Alright, Jeremy, Etak, and Jones, you will not be permitted to exit this station from now one unless you tell us your real names. There’s no teacher in the district who says their schoolchildren visiting this place has gone missing.” the man said. Kate had chosen her fake name to be her real name backwards. That was even more crazy than “Kate, the Great Weather Machine!”

Soon, the guard got tired of waiting and went off to get himself a sandwich. The secretary watched us pitifully.

“Oh, poor dears. You must be so hungry. There is lunch in the cafeteria. Would you like to eat there?” the secretary asked, removing her glasses.

“What? Sandwiches. That depends on what you have. I don’t like pickles, I like beets, no ham, a pinch of corn, basically anything that starts with a vowel is in…” Sticky began, but Kate smothered his mouth and he gurgled and coughed.

“Oh, yes please! We’ll be right on our way!” she said. I smiled. The woman wasn’t giving us lunch directions, but instead an excuse to escape!

“Hey, Kate, what was that for? If she orders a ham, pickle, cheese, yogurt, and radish sandwich on white bread with a dip of mustard, I’ll regurgitate!” Sticky said when Kate dragged him into the hallway.

“Oh, for crying out loud! Sticky, for the smartest person in the whole world, you are as dense as…uh…you weren’t real bright back there, okay? She wasn’t trying to satisfy your bizarre taste buds, she was trying to give us an escape excuse!” Kate explained impatiently.

“But I’m still kinda hungry. Think I can ketchup on you (geddit? geddit? catch up? ketchup! *eye rolls*) when I grab something to chew on?” Sticky asked, laughing to himself. I groaned.

“Whatever,” Kate muttered, and Sticky walked off.

“So, what should we do?” I asked Kate.

“First stop, the remaining paper storage room. I have a sneaking suspicion there’ll be something in there we need!”

Kate briskly began jogging, peeking into rooms, and I followed her, not wanting to be left behind. Soon, we got the right one. The one with four security guards surrounding it, that is. Kate quickly distracted them with her innocent girl act. Soon, she charmed them around her finger and pretty soon, was walking out of there, the paper folded neatly and hidden in her pocket.

“Nice going!” I said, patting her on the back.

“Thanks! It was no biggie. All I did was act around them like I acted around Milligan when I tried getting him to get me Madge,” she said, laughing. In two minutes, we were at the door of the cafeteria, but as soon as we saw Sticky stammering around the lunch lady, we knew we were in trouble. Suddenly, Kate swooped in to save us, again.

“Oh, so sorry. You see, my cousin has autism, and he likes to wander. My mom works here, she’s the secretary, and we have him over for a few days. Please, don’t give a bother on him. He’s allowed to get whatever he wants. If he took anything, charge it to my mom’s account. Byeeeeee!” Kate said, pulling Sticky alongside her. Phew. Sticky was still babbling along about the perfect sandwich and Kate ruining the day.

“Just where are you going,” the interrogator asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“Uh…” Kate stammered.

dUfU

Reynie swooped in.
“Uh… you see, Sticky needed the toilet, and we were wandering around trying to find the restroom,” he said. Sticky glanced at him, confused, but then caught on to what he was saying. He crossed his knees as if he was desperate. The interrogator frowned at him, his face creased as if he was slightly suspicious.
“Okay, the men’s rooms are up this corridor, left and the third door down. There’s a sign on there saying ‘Men’s Rooms’, so it won’t be hard to miss,” he said. I nodded hurriedly and rushed down the corridor and flung us out of the fire exit.

I unfolded the paper. There was nothing on it. I looked back to the time we ran into the interrogator. I had only noticed now that he had had a slightly smug look on his face.
“Dang it, he must have noticed the paper sticking out of my pocket,” I said, stamping on the paper. It was unfair. I then heard a twig snap behind me. I whirled around, scanning my surroundings. I saw a small hat brim peering out from behind a tree.
“You should really give up fancy hats, they do really give hiding spot away,” I called.

A man came out. The interrogator, in fact. He looked happy as if he’d just won a fight. I glared at him, trying to mask my confusion. Sticky and Reynie were exchanging a confused look.
“Oh, duckies, you really think that we would let you walk out happily, papers in hand. Unheard of!” he said, chuckling merrily as if someone had said a hilarious joke. I glared at him harder, the creased skin under my eyebrows sinking so that I couldn’t see the interrogator. He carried on laughing, not a care in the world.

#Bai

He was laughing. Laughing so hard that he had dropped the actual piece of paper and had forgotten to take Kate (or Etak)’s pepper spray. After spraying his eyes, we ran. The building was close by, a dark house with blackened windows. This would be our best shot yet, if we managed it – smashing the door as hard as we could was our best bet. And now was the decision – there were two prisoners, both bound in exactly the same manner. They were Mr. Benedicts, but one was Mr. Curtain and the wrong choice would be fatal. A clue on the floor said “Left is right and right is left.”
“What does that mean?”
“Wait a second, it’s easy. It’s given you the answer – left is right.”
And so when we untangled Mr. Benedict, he ran to a van and fell asleep. It was us vs the ten men.

“Mr. Benedict fell asleep when the battle started. Don’t worry, he and the others are disguised as sentries, so the Ten Men probably won’t risk a direct assault on the van. And I have twenty more sentries on the way. With luck Hardy and Gristle can hold their own for a while, especially if most of the other Ten Men are out looking for me.” Then, he turned a corner and hit Garrote and Crawlings onto the floor

 

“Can’t we hide in there?” Reynie suggested, gesturing toward the door Milligan had just closed. “If Garrotte’s already down, wouldn’t it be safer…”

 

Milligan shook his head. “The Ten Men make regular reports by radio. When Garrotte doesn’t call in, they’ll come running to this spot in full force.”

 

“But how would they know to come here?” I asked, who like Reynie, much preferred the idea of holing up and waiting for reinforcements.

 

“Their radios are equipped with tracking devices,” Milligan said. “Which, incidentally, is why I’m not using Garrotte’s.” He put his hands on the boys’ shoulders. “Listen, I know it would probably feel better to hide, but in this case the safest thing is to keep moving. Just concentrate on the plan, and we’ll be out of here before you know it. Are you ready, Kate?”

 

 

With Milligan in the lead and Kate just millimetres away, the group continued down the corridor. We trailed some paces behind, looking constantly about and trying hard to focus on the plan. (“Rectangles,” I whispered to himself, “rectangles, rectangles, rectangles.”) It was of course a very basic plan, hardly worth explaining, and Reynie felt sure Milligan had done so just to give them something less scary to think about. It probably did keep them both a little calmer. But Reynie still couldn’t help anxiously wondering how many more doorways might conceal Ten Men, and I kept reaching up and briefly, lightly touching his spectacles, as if to reassure himself they were still there.

 

Halfway down the corridor, we passed a set of double doors that opened onto the building’s interior courtyard. Through windows in the doors we caught a glimpse of the desk they had tied Crawlings to, now a broken pile of wood and metal, with a frayed length of Kate’s rope still attached to one leg. Kate and the boys exchanged glances. Under the circumstances, it was hard to feel more than a flicker of pride at having set such a good trap – but they did, at least, feel a flicker, and it bolstered their courage as they stalked on.

At the next corner Milligan bade them stop. He sniffed the air and frowned. “McCracken,” he muttered. “Him I’d rather avoid. We’d better turn around.”

“I agree with Milligan!” I whispered.
Still, we managed to avoid all the ten men as they were fighting the sentries. It was a close battle; we could see from the house that we were winning – the ten men simply were outnumbered and later, we had finally won.

We had finally won. A battle that had lasted a year long was finally over. Unless we faced more ten men, of course… 

 

THE END
p.s. I think we should get a publisher….