Agent Q, or the Smell of Danger! Read online

  If you don’t know “The Song That Never Ends,” let me just remind you. It’s the one that goes:

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because

  This is the song that never ends,

  It just goes on and on, my friends.

  Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,

  And they’ll continue singing it forever just because . . .

  As Jasper, Katie, and Drgnan shouted it at the top of their lungs for mile after mile, passing Dragon Creek and the village of Corbit, the monks in the front didn’t complain. They rocked their heads in time with the music.

  Brother Grzo said, “Is not all life a song that never ends?”

  And his friend replied, “And are we not each just one verse?”

  The third monk, Bvletch, was not as generous. Though he was, deep down, a very kind and loving monk, he was sixteen—a teenager—so he had just taken his Vow of Sarcasm. This meant that for two years, he had to say nothing that wasn’t ironic and snotty. So he sat there grumbling, “Wow. This is great. I love this. I hope it goes on all night. When do you cut your first album? Sure. Awesome. This fills me with a joy like the bee alighting on a flower to drink its sweet nectar. Hey, could you sing that verse again? A little louder?” etc.*

  And so they did sing it louder, until Lily broke in and said, “Hey . . . hey, we should stop. Because I think Bvletch isn’t very happy.”

  The other three stopped. “Yes,” said Drgnan. “We do not wish to cause sorrow to Bvletch. We shall not sing ‘The Song That Never Ends’ anymore.” There was a moment of silence where the van rattled and squeaked and everyone could hear themselves breathe before Drgnan said joyfully, “Instead we shall sing ‘The Littlest Worm I Ever Saw.’” And he and Katie busted into “The Littlest Worm,” which left teen Blvetch crumpled under the seat, his thumbs in his ears.

  They were passing through a little village, some wattle-and-daub houses with thatched roofs gathered around a square. As they drove through the square, past an old tractor and a statue of St. George, people looked up from their work—washerwomen at their buckets, the butcher with his cleaver, a dentist performing a curbside root canal—and sullenly watched the van rattle through town.

  “Wave! Everyone wave!” cried Grzo, and he waved furiously out the window. Jasper and Katie waved too, and the dentist smiled toothlessly and waved back. “Say hello!” cried Grzo, smiling his crooked smile, and the whole van shouted glad greetings, except, of course, Bvletch, who rolled his eyes and said, “Great. It’s candy hour at the Sore-Head Saloon. Give me double my nougat.”

  He was not yet very good at sarcasm. He still had some work to do.

  They came at last to the village of Red Lion on the banks of Red Lion Creek. They pulled up in front of the Red Lion Inn, which was a kind of strange, shingled tower, like a lighthouse that had forgotten to dress itself with ocean and had put on dirt skirts instead. It had lots of pokey, round windows and balconies, and a sign over the door showing a scarlet lion standing up on its hind legs and clawing the air.

  Grzo turned off the engine and opened the door. “We have business here,” he said. “You, precious children, stay near to the van. All monks, we must go into the inn for a time.”

  Everyone climbed out of the van, stretching their legs and cracking their joints. Jasper bent down and touched his toes, then swung back and forth, arms bent. All of them were hot and a little sore from the walking and riding.

  “We will not be a minute,” said Grzo. “If the chicks will stay in the nest, the wren shall return with the plump worm for feasting.”

  Katie looked at Red Lion Creek, where it flowed sweetly through the dell. “Yeah. Hold the worms. But can we sit by the river?” she asked. “I want to cool off.”

  “Yes, certainly,” said Brother Grzo. “But be wary, dear child.”

  Katie, Jasper, and Lily went down to the bank of the creek. The four monks—the two adults, teen Bvletch, and young Drgnan—promised to come back as quickly as possible. They processed into the inn.

  Katie kicked off her shoes and sank her heels into the cool moss. “I really want to go in for a swim,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t, Katie,” said Jasper. “Brother Grzo told us to be wary.”

  “He didn’t say anything about not going into the river. ‘Wary’ doesn’t mean ‘dry.’”

  She looked around and spotted an old man sitting nearby on a mildewed beach chair, whittling. He whistled slowly to himself in the green shade.

  “Hey,” said Katie. “Sir?”

  He looked up, smiled, and replied in Doverian.

  “I’m sorry,” said Katie. “Do . . . you . . . speak . . . English?”

  He nodded and wriggled his hand. “Little English,” he said cheerfully.

  “Can I go in the river?”

  He looked at the river, looked at her, shrugged, nodded.

  She waded in up to her knees. She called back to him, “There isn’t anything I should worry about, is there?” she said. “I mean, bandits, trolls, wolves, bears, nightmare dolls . . . ?�
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  The old man said, “No, small miss. No fear. Lion Creek . . . Lion Creek, it going by many of this Autarch’s factories, many big factories, so nothing, no, nothing alive in it here. No fish, no shark, no crocodemon. All dead. Nothing but one-cell organism.” He held up a single finger. “Nothing else live.”

  “Is that good news?” asked Katie, looking at the water skeptically.

  Lily said, “I wouldn’t get any in your mouth, from the sounds of things.”

  Katie decided she’d better not go in any farther. She wriggled her toes in the mud. She splashed her legs.

  Jasper was up rummaging around in the van. Lily sat by the side of the creek. It was a pleasant hollow, with water rushing over the rocks and trees hanging low around the banks. It was not a bad place to sit for a while.

  Katie was doing high kicks and spraying herself with water. “I wish Drgnan didn’t have to go inside with them,” she said. “He’d be fun to splash.”

  Lily asked shyly, “Are you looking forward to going to the dance with him?”

  “It’s going to be great. He floats in the air when he dances, Lily.”

  Lily smiled. She looked up at Katie doing pirouettes in the ripples.

  And screamed.

  Something huge had risen up behind her friend. Something blobby. Something with shuddering, hungry little tendrils all over it.

  * Most of the monks of Vbngoom take the Vow of Sarcasm as teenagers. When the two sarcastic years are over, then they never tell a lie or say anything mean ever again. They’ve gotten it out of their systems.

  If you have an older brother or sister, you may have noticed that they, too, have taken a Vow of Sarcasm.

  BLOB VIOLENCE

  The blob heaved.

  Katie half turned—saw the thing—yelped—and stumbled toward shore—each step slow as a nightmare—each step plowing through current—each throwing up a claw of spray.

  She struggled toward the bank.

  Lily saw the monster flex itself and prepare to engulf her friend. She didn’t know what to do—but she grabbed a stick from the shore and waded in, waving it.

  Jasper looked down toward the creek—he saw them. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed. He grabbed his rucksack and began searching desperately for his ray gun. He tore through the useless contents of his pack—he swore by all the major moons of Jupiter in ascending order of their orbits—“Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto!”—but could lay his hands on nothing but beef jerky and plaid underwear. He kept digging.

  Lily was almost by Katie’s side, holding the tree branch defiantly. “Get back!” Katie cried to Lily.

  And at that moment, the blob lunged.

  Lily jabbed. Katie jumped. The butt of the stick slapped into the monster’s clear flesh and knocked it aside for a moment. Katie spun away, and the monster splashed into the water.

  Katie and Lily looked down into the river. The monster was translucent—there was no way to see it, once it was underwater. They began to dash for the shore. Katie grabbed another branch trapped in the rocks. She yanked it free and brandished it.

  On the shore, Jasper found his travel pillow.

  Katie saw a motion—turned her head—and found the monster towering out of the river, its transparent flesh gleaming in the sun.

  She poked it with her stick. It moved toward her, wobbling hungrily.

  “Side to side!” Lily screamed.

  Katie didn’t understand what Lily was talking about. The monster dropped toward her. She tripped backward. It fell on top of her.

  The slime was all over her. The world was wrinkled and wavery through the monster’s clear skin. Katie couldn’t breathe. She fell to her knees. She struggled to beat the beast, but it was all around her. She rolled, and was lying on her back, her legs in the water and her head in the blob.

  And suddenly she realized what Lily meant.

  The blob was trying to draw her completely into itself so it could digest her. If the stick went side to side, she would be too wide. The monster wouldn’t be able to engulf her totally. The blob was folded over her like a pancake, but she was not yet fully inside of it.

  She yanked the stick so it went side to side.

  The monster struggled to pull her into its flesh. It couldn’t get around the ends of the branch. It was stretching itself thin.

  Lily was up above, prying at the thing, using her stick as a lever.

  Katie struggled to breathe.

  On the shore, Jasper found his sandals.

  The monster shuddered and tried to digest. It couldn’t fit Katie. It heaped itself and scrunched. With the shlup of a boot pulled out of Mississippi mud, Katie’s head popped out of the blob.

  She was lying, her back on the sand, trying to keep her head above the couple of inches of water. She kicked. She boxed at the monster with her branch. It stretched itself in one direction and then another. She thwacked and pedaled. It warped and leaped. She was disgusted by its clingy, pulpy touch, its writhing and slapping. Lily whacked it with her stick.

  The monster bunched. It slithered. It gulped.

  Katie thrust out her hand—spread the blob’s flesh—stretched it as thin as pizza dough!

  And the blob, pulled out of shape, quivering with protoplasmic rage, dropped off her.

  The water ran over Katie, and the monster let itself be pulled away with it. It dribbled downstream.

  It was gone.

  The two girls crawled out of the river onto the bank.

  Jasper finally dodged down to their side, holding his ray gun aloft. He looked around for his enemy. “Dash it all!” he said.

  “We’re okay,” said Lily. “Thank you anyway.”

  Katie screamed at the old man on the rotting chair, “I thought you said there weren’t any creatures in this river!”

  “Excellent, forceful miss, I say that there are only one-cell organism, yes? And that was a one-cell organism. I think amoeba.”

  “An amoeba is LITTLE,” said Katie, squinching her fingers together. “Little. Teeny tiny.”

  AMOEBA

  (Amoeba proteus supergiganticus)

  “That one, it seem big to me,” said the old man, shrugging. “Not so tiny.”

  “I know,” said Katie. “I was almost drowned by it.”

  “Not so tiny, I say.”

  Katie exhaled angrily and stomped across the pebbles and up the slope to try and find a towel.

  In a minute the monks came back from the inn, carrying sandwiches and drinks for dinner. “Good, good,” said Grzo. “We are done. I hope you have enjoyed . . . You swam? Not so good an idea. Many one-celled—”

  “I know,” growled Katie. She shot an angry glance at the old man on the old chair. The old man on the old chair waved an old hand and smiled a young smile.

  The moment Drgnan discovered what had happened, he ran down to the riverbank and joined Jasper, peering up and down the current, looking for the blob to bash it.

  “Come, children!” Grzo called down to them. “We must hurry if we are to reach Guyencourt on schedule. Just three days, and many miles to cross.”

  The boys, disappointed that they didn’t have a chance to whomp a monster, trudged back up to the van and climbed in. Shortly the van was jouncing across the river on a bridge guarded by stone lions.

  The old man on his rotten chair watched them go. Then he stood up, lay down his whittling, and scampered into a barber shop. Scissors were clickety-clacking. Bangs were falling. He went into the back and dialed a number on the phone.

  In Doverian, he whispered, “Hello. Hello. This is Informant Pmnd. I have been advised to call if any monks of Vbngoom were seen on Route One. I have just seen four monks in the green robes of Vbngoom. They are in a white van with three children. The children are from out of state. I heard them speak. They are all headed north to Guyencourt. They plan to cross the border three days from now. Yes. Yes. Thank you. For my free gift, I would like E-352. That is the watermelon boom box. If supplies have not lasted, I would like the wal
king-an-invisible-dog trick leash. Number . . .” He pulled out a grimy, wrinkled old catalogue and flipped through it. He left his information and hung up.

  He went out again to sit by the river and whittle.

  A few weeks from now, he thought, brother, I tell you! I’ll be sitting here listening to some sweet, juicy tunes.

  THE PROBLEM WITH HAVING A FRIEND WHO’S IN LOVE

  “I spy,” said Jasper, “with my little eye, something . . . that begins with F.”

  It turned out to be a fungus on a tree. Drgnan guessed it.

  Drgnan said, “I spy . . . with my little eye . . . somethinnnnnnnng . . .”

  Katie stared at Drgnan’s eyes. They were not little. They were large and beautiful. She wished she could see out of them.

  “. . . that begins,” said Drgnan. “With.”

  “It is a shame,” Jasper mused, “that we are not in a wood with pteranodons. Because no one would guess pteranodons.”

  Lily said, “Let Drgnan pick his letter.”

  “H,” said Drgnan.

  They thought for a minute.

  “Hill?” suggested Lily.

  “Hawk?” said Jasper, who didn’t see one himself, but still hoped.

  “Hottie?” said Katie, also hopefully.

  Then she realized what she had said, and blushed.

  It turned out to be a hophorn-beam. Drgnan explained it was a kind of tree. “A hophornbeam?!?” Katie protested. “No one knows what a hophornbeam is! That should just be T for tree!”

  “Then you have the next turn, my sister.”

  Needless to say, her turn was E.

  For eyes.

  “Drgnan’s,” she said.

  When she explained, Drgnan looked nervous. And Katie herself, now that she had said it out loud, suddenly looked embarrassed.

  Blvetch rolled over from his nap and said, in no uncertain terms, “I spy, with my little eye, something that begins with ‘stupid.’”

  THE HAIR OF A DECOY

  They encountered no more beasts in the depths of the Pulaski Forest, save the bears who lived in a town called Bear. The bears there seemed quite friendly, dressed in hoods and linen tunics and floppy hats. They lifted up their paws and waved as the van jolted through the main street of their log village, and the monks and kids all shouted, “Hi!” which was nice, though it confused Lily a little.