Agent Q, or the Smell of Danger! Read online

  Lily had been thinking hard for the last few minutes, since they’d passed the bears’ apiaries.* She watched bears in white coveralls and netted helmets drawing out honeycombs. Bees were trembling around them. Grzo waved and smiled a big, lopsided smile.

  Lily was thinking about the concealment of monks. She was wondering why it was that Grzo wasn’t more worried about being recognized. And what about the line of two hundred monks wandering through the wilderness on their way to their new home? What was happening to them?

  “Brother Grzo?” she said.

  “Yes, sweet girl?”

  “How are the other monks going to make it to the new Vbngoom? Won’t they be kind of, I don’t know, obvious, walking in a line like that?”

  “Ah! But they shall walk most of the way through the wilderness, where there are no people to see them. And they know spells to cause angry persons to fall asleep, if all of them pray together. And most important, blessed child, we are a decoy.”

  Lily sat up straight. Jasper was looking startled, and Katie looked like she was suddenly on high alert, Code Red.

  “So . . . ,” said Lily, “by decoy . . . by decoy . . . you mean, like, we’re providing a diversion?”

  “Yes, yes!” Brother Grzo was very enthusiastic. “Very clever. We stop in each town and tell them where we are going. Soon every secret agent in northern Delaware will search for us on the road to Guyencourt—and no one will be looking in the mountains to the northwest.”

  “But we . . . ,” said Lily. “We’re not exactly like a decoy. You know, like a duck decoy? It’s made of wood. It’s not a real duck.”

  “True. And to you I say: A decoy may be made of wood, but it still has eyes.”

  “But a decoy doesn’t feel pain. And a decoy doesn’t have feelings.”

  “And a decoy doesn’t have hair,” Katie added. “And a decoy doesn’t have to go to the bathroom.”

  “And a decoy demands an explanation!” said Jasper. “How are we going to cross the border safely if the whole Ministry of Silence is looking for us?”

  “Yes,” said Brother Grzo. “This is a very good—quick, everyone wave!” He yelled out the window to some brown bears playing chess on a tavern porch, “OH, GREETINGS, GREETINGS, FINE CREATURES! YOU PAY US NO MIND! SIMPLY FOUR HUMBLE MONKS OF VBNGOOM AND THREE CHILDREN OF OTHER STATES HEADING FOR GUYENCOURT! NO MATTER! GOOD DAY! FAREWELL!”

  The van labored up a slope, coughing.

  “You did not wave vigorously, blessed youths,” he said. “But there is time. With the hours together, fellowship grows, and soon you will wish to spread your joy among all men and bears. What did we speak of?” There was no answer from the back. He looked into the rearview mirror at the kids. They looked back at him. They looked a little grim. He said, “Well, no matter. Who wishes to sing, ‘The Monks on the Bus Go Up and Down’? . . . Yes? . . . I begin?”

  After that, the people in the van got much quieter.

  Much quieter. Much quieter.

  The people in the van got much quieter.

  All through the town.

  * An apiary is not a place where you keep apes. It is a place where you keep bees. If you keep apes there too, you’d better be ready to deal with one mad ape. And a thousand mad bees.

  Of course, occasionally someone might try to keep both together.

  Someday you might meet someone like that.

  I did, once. No, that was not a date I enjoyed.

  It sounded nice, when the long sunset fell over the formal gardens of Chunderquist House, and the night-dew was falling on the nodding blooms and the scent of fresh-cut grass was in the air, and she said, “Would you like to see our apiary? Father keeps the sublimest hives.” And so we wandered down through the marble patios and past the jonquils and the hollyhocks, and her brothers were playing badminton, and the evening was full of the linnet’s wings as we rambled down to the bee-loud glade. Or ape-loud glade, as it turned out to be, and then the screaming, and the running, and the tearing, and me being strangulated, and ouch! ouch! ouch! . . . Well, you get the picture.

  DINE AND DASH

  The next afternoon they reached high Elsmere.

  The van rattled out of a deep ravine with towering cliffs on each side to find, sparkling in front of them, the wings and blimps of the hovering city, home of the Zeppelin-Lords. The mansions and town houses of that place were suspended high, high in the stratosphere above the mountain, each held up by balloons or rotors or slowly flapping metal bat wings. Some of those homes had been aloft for centuries.

  The green slopes of the mount were terraced into fields where the poor of the city labored. They staggered up and down the hillside with carts and baskets. Their rice paddies were shaded by the ungainly heli-burbs far above them.

  Lily leaned over so she could see better out the front window. Katie, who had been napping, blinked groggily. Teenage Brother Bvletch also stared at the window, but he was checking out his reflection, scowling and stretching his cheeks to assess his blackheads.

  “Elsmere,” said Brother Grzo. “Here we must see a man in a restaurant.”

  “A man in a restaurant?” said Katie.

  “A man with a plan.”

  “Like a menu?”

  “A plan for our route.”

  “Don’t we know our route?”

  “We must hear from the man.”

  “But we know where we’re going. We’re going to the north.”

  “To the north or the south. To the east or the west.”

  “Even the south?” Jasper asked.

  “That may be the plan.”

  “Says who?” said Katie.

  “The man with the plan.”

  “What man with the plan?”

  “The man in the restaurant.”

  “Why do I get the feeling,” said Katie, “that I’m walking in circles even while I’m sitting in the same place?”

  “Enlightenment?” Drgnan suggested cutely.

  “I don’t even get that.”

  “Are we not all walking in circles, even while we—”

  “Okay, I think that’s enough from monks for the moment,” said Katie, holding up her hand. “No more from monks.”

  She and Drgnan began to wrestle. The seat twanged with their noogies.

  They drove up the hill between terraced rice paddies.

  When they reached the earthbound precincts of the city, Grzo parked.

  Everyone got out. Lily stood for a moment and looked down the way they’d come, at all the tiny people laboring in the sun. The shadows of rotors and blimps passed over them. Lily did not feel good about it. She got the strong feeling that the Zeppelin-Lords and Copter-Barons and Gyro-Dukes above her would not have been able to sip cool drinks in their marble sky-palaces if it weren’t for the people working in the muck a mile below them. It didn’t seem very fair.

  The others were already starting to walk up the steep street. She scurried along after them. There was a fence made of old pipes sunk into cement to stop people from plunging off the road.

  The houses were built of concrete blocks and tin. They were overshadowed by huge billboards and scaffolds and gantries. There were a few older chalets among them, with ancient wood carving over the doors—whittled pinecones and holly sprigs and edelweiss. Donkey carts filled with rice bumped up the street.

  The restaurant was a cracked stucco cube hanging out over the city’s retaining wall. It specialized in food for monks, and was called Friar Tuck-In.

  Inside, it was smoky from burnt pods. There were big windows so customers could take in the view, but the glass was all streaked with greasy fingerprints.

  Some of the customers were just regular people dressed in their work clothes, but there were also several other monks from other religious orders lounging around in robes of brown or gray, watching a prizefight on a little television.

  Lily and her companions sat at a table. It rocked back and forth. Drgnan translated the laminated menu for the other kids. Most of the ite
ms on the menu were the kind of things monks ate—acorns, twigs, and locusts—but the restaurant also had hamburgers and “Bucky’s World-Famous Fries,” which Jasper was interested in. “It has been several days since I had a good meal,” he said. “A man cannot live on beef jerky alone. I am thrilled for a side order.”

  “Oh,” said Katie longingly. “You know what I could have? A Reuben. I love a Reuben sandwich. I can’t wait.”

  Lily was famished. Even the smell of crispy grasshoppers made her belly rumble.

  The waiter came to their table. He was dressed in a black robe and a grimy apron. He had a careful, secretive look to him. He began to speak in Doverian; Brother Grzo bowed his head and requested that the gentleman speak English for the benefit of the children.

  The waiter nodded slowly. “Welcome to Friar Tuck-In,” he said, with a Western twang. “I will be your waitstaff. It’s a big, bruisin’ pleasure to have you dine with us. You folks come a long way?”

  “Yes,” said Brother Grzo. “We are just coming up from the south.”

  The waiter nodded very slowly. “From the south. Quite a trip.” He looked into each of their faces with great significance.

  “Quite a trip,” agreed Grzo.

  “Where are you folks headed?”

  “Guyencourt,” said Grzo. “All of us.”

  The waiter looked like he was filing the answer away for future reference. But all he said was, “Great. Happy trails. Can I interest you in the specials?”

  “Yes,” said Grzo. “Specials are full of hidden delight.”

  “For the monks among you, we got a bark sandwich with a homemade chipotle sauce served with chips and a side of gravel-and-spinach salad with a holy water vinaigrette dressing. For the rest of you, we got a fine ostrich stew, which comes with a side salad and hush puppies, exactly three deep-fried hush puppies, no more, no less. You got that?” he asked Brother Grzo.

  “I do.”

  “I’d like the Reuben sandwich,” said Katie. “Thanks so much.” She put down her menu. “And a Coke.”

  “I’d like a hamburger and fries,” said Jasper, “the meal of my homeland.” He smiled winningly.

  “You sure?” said the waiter.

  “No,” Grzo told the waiter. “Don’t listen.”

  “But I would like a hamburger,” said Jasper. “It’s on the menu.”

  “And I’d like a hamburger too, please,” said Lily.

  Grzo said, “Please stop saying ‘hamburger.’”

  “But that’s what I want,” Jasper protested.

  “Did you get my Reuben sandwich down?” Katie asked. “I love a Reuben.”

  The waiter’s eyes were shocked and watching.

  “Please, blessed children,” said Brother Grzo, taking Lily and Jasper’s hands in his own. He gave them a very wide, very loving, very lopsided smile. He leaned down close to the table and whispered, “The gentleman is speaking in code. Every item on the menu and the specials has a meaning.”

  “I see,” said Jasper.

  “If you keep on asking for hamburgers, fries, and Reubens, he will believe we are being pursued by lady musketeers. On zebra-back.”

  “Ohhhhh,” said Katie. She picked up her menu. “Scratch the Reuben. No Reuben for me.”

  “What,” said Brother Grzo, “would the gentleman recommend?”

  The waiter answered, “Fish filet sandwich with cheddar cheese on a whole-wheat bun and a side of new potatoes and corn on the cob. Dessert, I think you monks’ll enjoy our hemlock-berry pie with whipped cream and a scoop of briar ice cream.”

  Grzo thought long and hard about this. He gazed out the windows at the surrounding hills and peaks. Finally he nodded. “Please,” said he. “That sounds delicious, my dear waiter. Pray place our order.”

  The waiter nodded, crossed out their order, and stuffed his pad in his pocket. He picked up Grzo’s glass and poured the monk some water. He gave them all a warning look, wiped his hands on his apron, and went back to the kitchen.

  Grzo was staring at his glass of water. He lifted it and turned it around.

  There, in the mist on the glass, in the midst of Grzo’s fingerprints, the waiter had drawn a letter Q.

  Grzo frowned. He took a long drink from the glass, wiping off the Q with his thumb.

  He looked around casually, then rose. “All right, blessed children,” he said.

  They looked at him in confusion. “What about lunch?” asked Katie.

  “We have what we need,” said Grzo. “We will pick it up to go.”

  “We haven’t ordered,” said Katie.

  “I ordered, sweet child.”

  “I mean what we want to eat.”

  “A Reuben sandwich will lead to great misunderstanding.”

  “What about a Coke?”

  “He will believe you wish to buy a crossbow.”

  “This is impossible,” said Katie. “Can’t we order anything? Anything real?”

  “Our order, shining light of youth, is cooking now. And the griddle is all too real, and all too hot. We fear burns.” Grzo gestured toward the door. “Come along.”

  Unwillingly, they all filed back out onto the street. There was a kind of a traffic jam. A furniture salesman had put a bunch of tables and comfy reclining chairs out on the street for display. They were getting covered with dust and surrounded by sheep.

  “Now, back to the van,” said Grzo. “We have received our new instructions. We shall take an unusual detour, dear children.”

  Drgnan asked, “Where are we going, Brother?”

  Grzo smiled and winked. “We shall go up in the air.”

  “Golly,” said Jasper. “I’d been hoping!”

  “We have laid our trail now,” said Brother Grzo. “The Ministry of Silence believes we are headed for Guyencourt. But it is time for us to deceive. The pelican waves one wing to attract notice while he snatches fish with the other. We shall now be taken secretly up into the sky. They shall continue to look for us on the Montchanin Road—but we shall actually be in Wilmington.”

  “The old double-switch!” said Jasper, delighted.

  “Is that true about the pelican?” said Katie. “I don’t think they really use their wings to—”

  “We shall fly like the starlings, darling children! Away from the cats who prowl by night! The waiter has just told me that all the preparations are being made.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this switch yesterday, when you completely freaked us out by telling us we were a decoy?” asked Katie.

  “I did not know until just now,” said Grzo. “I had to be kept in ignorance.”

  “But you’re in charge of everything!” said Katie.

  “You know that the monks of Vbngoom cannot lie. We have taken an oath of truth. So if I had known we were not really going to Guyencourt, I could not have yelled out the window that we were headed there. I would have had to yell, ‘Greetings, fine citizens! We four monks and three out-of-state children are pretending to go to Guyencourt, but actually are going to be lifted into the sky in Elsmere to be delivered to Wilmington!’ This would not have been a wise deception.”

  “So you had to be fooled yourself,” Lily asked, “in order to fool others?”

  “There is sometimes a virtue in not-knowing.”

  With that, they began walking through the sheep back toward their van.

  They left the furniture behind them.

  One of the reclining chairs folded up its footrest, stood, and watched them go.

  It was Mrglik, Delaware’s greatest furniture-imitating spy.

  He and Bntno had been driving down the Montchanin Road for a couple of days, looking for the van. When they reached Elsmere, they split up, and Mrglik, always eager for practice, had spent his lunch hour at the furniture store being a vanity and a comfortable reclining chair.

  He had heard everything.

  He pulled out his gun. “Stop!” he cried. “You—monks—kids—STOP! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!”

  RICE AND DANGER
!

  Of course, Jasper, Katie, and Lily heard only something that they didn’t understand yelled in Doverian. But Grzo swooped his arms around them from behind and rushed them forward, head bowed.

  “What’s wrong?” said Katie.

  “Run, children,” said Grzo. “We all must run for the van. Very fast.”

  Mrglik stood behind them on the sheep-filled street, pointing his .38. He ordered, “Stop!” again in Doverian—and when that didn’t work, started shouting in English, “BOY! GIRL! STOP!”

  “Who is that?” said Katie.

  “YOU IS BENEATH THE ARREST!”

  Lily took a quick look back. “It’s Mrglik!” she said. “Last week he disguised himself as a bed in our hotel room!”

  “And a nightstand,” said Katie venomously.

  “STOP OR I TO SHOOT!”

  “Run, blessed children!” said Grzo. “Quick and light as angels’ wings!”

  Then the bullets started flitting past them.

  Bvletch had already reached the van and yanked the door open, holding out his hand to help the others in, while keeping up a steady stream of sarcasm, according to his vow. (“Oh, wow, this is great. My soul sings like the frog in spring. How did you know what I wanted for my birthday?”)

  Grzo was no longer behind Lily, but in front of her, holding out his hand to grab hers as they both charged toward the van. Their fingers missed—she was falling back. The bullets kept flying. None of them hit anything.

  Mrglik was running down toward them now, forcing his way between the protesting sheep. He fired again, and his bullet shattered one of the van’s windows. Everyone ducked.

  Lily was hiding behind a rice cart, stooped down so she couldn’t be hit. But she was still fifteen feet or so away from the van and her friends.

  Grzo crouched near the wheels of his ride, extending his arm toward her, whispering, “Lily. Come. Slither.” By his side, Drgnan watched her, tense.

  She was terrified. She couldn’t tell where Mrglik was. She didn’t want to raise her head up over the top of the cart.