Jane Blonde: Spylet on Ice

by Jill Marshall

  ‘Hmm, mucky, but nothing dangerous,’ she decided as she peered into the water through her Ultra-gogs. She worked out which was the far side of the field and then swam towards it. ‘Ah.’

  So this was the real test. The sides of the field were completely sheer. She came up against the fence and swam to the surface, but there was no foothold to help her up and over the wall. Perhaps she wasn’t in the right spot? But as Janey looked around she could see that every fence was exactly the same – smooth and impenetrable. Behind, G-Mamma was pounding across the granite platform, heading in Janey’s direction.

  Which gave her an idea.

  OK, Blonde, she thought. If you can’t climb it, ride it. Groping under the water, Janey unstrapped her ASPIC from her leg and settled it on the surface. Then, with her stomach flat against the board and her limbs over the edge, as she had seen surfers do on TV, she paddled the ASPIC over to the middle of the field. From there she shouted at G-Mamma to jump in beside her. Seconds later there was an almighty plop. Janey hung on to her board and waited, and suddenly she was riding high on a great wave that took her above the top of the fence. As the wave curled over into a muddy crest, she clambered upright. Her Fleet-feet magnetically gripped on to the ASPIC and, whooping joyfully, she flew over the top of the fence like a champion surfer and straight down the other side, landing just a couple of centimetres from the wall. As the wave slapped against the fence, it surged back to G-Mamma, who was poised to follow her Spylet’s example. ‘Go, Blonde-girl,’ she hollered.

  ‘Easy-peasy.’ Janey jumped off her board on to the grass of the fourth field and strapped it back in place against her leg. She was starting to enjoy herself. She’d been able to use all her familiar gadgets and hadn’t even had too much thinking to do. The only SPI-buy she hadn’t yet used was her SPInamite, so she eased it out of her pocket and held it tight as she waited for the final obstacle.

  Stepping forward carefully, she nudged the ground with her toe. It seemed solid enough. Janey trod more confidently, then paused. The fences seemed to be getting taller again. Surely her father wouldn’t try the same trick twice? If he had, she’d have to think harder about getting out of it, as she didn’t want to use the Fleet-feet jump again. But no, this time was different. The two side fences were curving around her. The far fence had slid down across the grass towards her, also bending, so that it fitted between the two arced side panels. And as she looked up, the fence behind her was sliding over her head in a vast arch like the roof of a cathedral. Suddenly there was a great snapping sound and the four bowed panels clunked together to form a long cylinder, with Janey at one end and, she could see now, her father at the other. She smiled and moved towards him.

  And the nightmare began.

  The cylinder started to turn. Janey toppled over, crunching her shoulder against the sides, then rode up helplessly towards the top of the spinning tube and fell back down again. It was like being inside a huge washing machine. The fences were just a white blur as they spun around and around, churning Janey up and tossing her against the sides. Unable to find her footing, she was completely at the mercy of this revolving monster, unclear which way was forward and which back, with no idea how to get a foothold, stand up, reach her father . . .

  Janey felt incredibly sick. The motion was constant, dizzying. She couldn’t even drop to her knees and crawl. As the white walls of the tube started to judder up and down before her eyes, she knew that the blurring was something to do with her brain, not with the tube itself. She was going to faint, and then she’d be left to be tossed around in there like a dead hamster in some grotesque hamster wheel.

  There was only one thing left to try. She’d blow her way out.

  And just as she struggled to guide the SPInamite into her mouth, screaming as her limbs banged relentlessly against the unforgiving trap, the whiteness of her prison exploded before her eyes into deep, deep black, and she realized the screaming was not her, not her at all, but a ghost . . . a SPIRIT . . . her father.

  titian ambition

  Janey woke up to someone rudely poking around in her mouth with a sharp-nailed finger.

  ‘No, that’s all of it,’ she heard G-Mamma say. ‘No more stuck in her teeth or anything, so we don’t need to worry about exploding fillings.’

  Exploding fillings, thought Janey dreamily. Now that could be a good idea. Just as she was wondering whether she had inherited her father’s ability to invent gadgets, she realized what G-Mamma had been doing and sat up with a start. Several faces were staring down at her, perturbed, while one or two, notably Tish and Rook, were looking a little smug. Her eyes found her father’s SPIRIT, leaning over her with a hard-to-read expression.

  ‘Did I blast my way out of that awful spinning tube?’ she said weakly. A wave of nausea rose from her stomach just thinking about it, and she swallowed hard.

  And at that Abe sat down and grabbed hold of her, squeezing her tight against his chest. ‘No, Janey. You nearly blew yourself to pieces, and I nearly lost my daughter. You were too disorientated – you’d never have got the SPInamite out of your mouth and on to the tube and then got sufficiently out of the way in time. I never imagined it would affect you – any of you – as badly as that. Oh, Janey.’

  Janey looked up at her father’s grey face. ‘I’d have been fine . . .’

  ‘You’d have been Janey jam,’ said G-Mamma firmly.

  Abe shook his head, gripping her shoulders, hardly able to speak. ‘If G-Mamma hadn’t heard my scream, run into the tube and slapped you on the back so hard the SPInamite flew out of your mouth, you wouldn’t be here now.’

  Janey’s shoulders slumped. This was bewildering. She’d nearly died and . . . she’d failed. She’d flunked one of her father’s tests. ‘It was all the spinning, and the whiteness. I didn’t know which way to go. I thought . . .’

  She had to stop as a burning sensation ripped across the bridge of her nose. She was going to cry. Bundled up in her dad’s embrace, she was very, very tempted to let out the torrent of tears aching to be released.

  But then Alfie waggled her foot with his. ‘You weren’t the only one who couldn’t do it. It was like the worst fairground ride I’ve ever been on. I vommed all over Blackbird as I got out.’

  Blackbird’s sharp little face loomed into view. ‘And he only did that because I was lying on the ground sobbing. It was the most horrible test of all, JB. Don’t feel bad about it.’

  But at least you made it out before you collapsed, thought Janey, and when she looked around at the others, at Leaf, Tish and Rook, she knew that they had skipped through it with no difficulties at all. It was exactly as Tish had said. She wasn’t so sensational, after all.

  Her father planted a kiss on her head. ‘All right now? Perhaps you could try standing up.’ And he got to his feet and stretched out a hand.

  It was only as she took the proffered hand and stood up that Janey realized something. ‘Dad, I can . . . I can feel you. You’re solid.’

  He smiled at Janey. ‘Yes, it’s me. Actually me. I’ve been operating all the holograms – the SPIRITS – from one central location on the camp. It allows me to be in several places at once and to appear in person from time to time if needs be. When I saw what was happening, I just . . .’ He broke off, his jaw working furiously and his fingers pinching the top of his nose, and for the first time Janey knew why she got – used to get – that peculiar feeling whenever she was about to cry. It was inherited.

  ‘So that’s how SPIRITs and . . .’ What was that other word Mrs Halliday had used? ‘. . . Retro-spectres work? You appear in a hologram but can come out in person?’

  ‘Only SPIRITs work that way,’ said her father. ‘They’re based on something real and current. Retro-spectres are built out of past memories and images, so can never appear in flesh and blood. But I’m very real, Janey. And, thank the heavens, so are you.’

  Taking a deep breath, Abe called the spy group to him. ‘That was a tough test. You all did amazingly well. G-Mamma, I
’ll never be able to thank you enough for your quick reactions.’

  ‘I know – talk about speedy!’ yelled G-Mamma, her eyes round with amazement at her own super-skills. ‘I should change my name to G-Force! Oh yeah!

  ‘G-Force . . . of course,

  The speeeeeeed of a jet,

  G-Force . . . racehorse,

  The beeeeeeest you’ve met.’

  ‘Modest, isn’t she?’ said Magenta pointedly, batting her eyelashes innocently as G-Mamma glared at her.

  ‘Well, I for one have had enough excitement for one day,’ said Abe. ‘Even raps are a bit too much for me at the moment. You should all have some dinner, make any phone calls you need to make – use the untraceable mobiles you’ll find on each of your beds – and then turn in early. You’ve still got a week of challenges ahead of you, and you’ve seen now how serious they are.’

  Janey loitered behind as the others started through the trees towards the refectory. ‘You too, Janey,’ he said. ‘You’ll need something to eat after that shock.’

  ‘But can’t I come with you?’

  Abe shook his head. ‘No. I’m sorry, Janey. You’re here as a spy, not as my daughter, and you need to be part of that team. I’m sorry I had to reveal to you that I’m really here – I know how hard that’s going to make it for you.’

  It really was. The father she had missed so much was just seconds away all the time she was at the camp, and yet it seemed Janey could only be with him in snatched moments. Once again she felt her personalities stretching apart like a piece of elastic – on one end Jane Blonde, Spylet, and on the other Janey Brown, daughter. Why did she have to keep choosing?

  Her father must have read her mind. He put a hand on each of her shoulders and gazed into her face. ‘It means so much to me that you’re here, Janey. Please try to keep yourself safe. And . . . make sure you ring Gina, I mean, your mum.’

  And then he turned and strode away into the copse of trees, leaving Janey alone, and cold inside. She stomped sulkily over to her bed, picked up the mobile and keyed in the number. ‘Hi, Mum,’ she said. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Sweetheart! I’m fine. How are you? How’s camp?’

  It’s awful, Janey wanted to wail. I’m no good at things and I’ve been in trouble already for trying to stop your dating plans, and my dad’s here but I have to be a spy and not a daughter, and there are these smug Spylets who can do everything . . . ‘Yes. Fine,’ she said. ‘Er, fun even.’

  ‘Oh, good. Call me lots and lots, whenever you can find a minute. I expect you’re going for dinner soon.’

  ‘Yes, dinner’s ready, I think,’ said Janey, almost dropping the phone in panic. Dinnertime – and she wasn’t there! The others would be furious. ‘I’ll try to call tomorrow. Bye, Mum.’

  And almost before her mother had managed to answer, Janey ended the call and raced off to the refectory just in time. She grabbed a plate as G-Mamma finished piling beef bourgignon on to the last of the dishes. Janey held hers out expectantly. If spying and teamwork were what she was here for, then spying and teamwork were what she would do. Starting right now.

  So for the rest of the week, Janey concentrated on being the best Spylet she possibly could. She found, as ever, that she excelled at the cryptology – deciphering codes and working out what secret messages meant. She zipped through the special puzzle-labyrinth, with its dingbats and cryptic messages, with barely a hiccup, putting jigsaws together, cracking codes in seconds and immediately spotting irregularities that showed the code was a booby trap.

  Janey was also, and always had been, very quick thinking. When she found herself facing a ferocious bear in one of the challenges, for instance, she threw a Spyroscope into its open mouth. ‘It’s a robot!’ she called to Tish, who was partnering her on the mission. ‘Look at how jerky its movements are. It’ll just fill up like a helium balloon.’

  They watched as the bear burped loudly, inflated at a rate of knots and then floated into the air like a bear-shaped zeppelin. Tish, for once, had something complimentary to say to Janey, not least because she was the one the bear had been about to eat. ‘Quick and effective, Blonde. Not pretty, but clever thinking. I’d have been robobear chow by now.’

  Janey stared at her, surprised. ‘That’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me.’

  ‘That’s the first decent thing you’ve done,’ said Tish, slowly lasering open the cage door to their gladiator-like challenge room with her scarlet Girl-gauntlet. The Gauntlets had now been upgraded, and featured titanium cutters instead of a pen, and a tiny heat-seeking missile where the camera had been. Tish grinned. ‘Apart from having Abe as your dad. He’s neat.’

  ‘You might not be so sure if he was your dad. Hidden away all the time. Not able to spend time with you, even when you’re in the same place. It has its drawbacks.’ Janey Fleet-footed alongside Tish towards the Abe-SPIRIT that was recording their challenge-times.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Tish, shaking her auburn curls so hard she looked like a chrysanthemum. ‘That man saved my life. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and if he was my dad I’d make sure he knew every second of every day how much I appreciated him.’

  ‘He knows!’ Janey was getting a little annoyed with Tish’s hectoring tone. ‘Anyway, what do you mean – he saved your life?’

  ‘Dragged me out of a mine when I was kidnapped as a toddler. He somehow found out where I was, fought off all the bad guys and then got me out of a hundred-metre vertical shaft,’ said Tish, panting slightly. ‘My hero.’

  ‘And mine,’ said Janey under her breath, feeling a huge surge of daughterly pride.

  Abe’s SPIRIT was within sprinting distance now. Their time was going to be good. Suddenly though, and without warning, Tish operated her Fleet-feet jump and, with one smooth leap, ploughed up to the SPIRIT a good five seconds before Janey.

  ‘I win,’ she said with a small smile.

  ‘But I saved you from being eaten!’

  ‘You should have saved yourself from being beaten.’ Tish smirked. ‘You’re way too nice.’

  Annoyed, Janey decided that she really did not like Tish. About the others she was not so sure. Leaf appeared overly formal but otherwise all right, although he was so thin and fair he looked as if a strong wind would blow him over. No wonder he hadn’t been trained to use a Spyroscope. Blackbird seemed particularly sweet – too sweet, especially in contrast to her big-headed brother, Rook, who outclassed everyone in the physical challenges and never lost a chance to gloat – almost as loudly as G-Mamma. Janey was so happy Alfie was with her. She loved the way he shone at everything but shrugged it all off as if he was merely doing what was expected of him.

  The last day of camp came around just as Janey was starting to enjoy it – the new gadgets, the learning, getting to know other Spylets and SPI:KEs, who understood what it was like to lead a weird double life. Her father had appeared in person the previous night and spoken to her quietly. ‘The biggest challenge, and the most relevant, is tomorrow, but I don’t want you to do anything heroic just because you’re my daughter and you have to prove yourself.’

  Janey shook her head. ‘I take risks because I’m a Spylet. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Abe solemnly. ‘Well, all I can do is wish you good luck.’ And he’d hugged her before disappearing into the dusk once more.

  So here they were. The final challenge. Alfie raised one eyebrow at Janey as they made their way over to the designated zone. It was a vast dome that had been constructed behind the trees, hidden away where nobody had seen it before. Around the perimeter were twenty or so enormous generators – holding the dome up with air or something, Janey supposed. Abe (the real one, Janey felt, although she couldn’t know for sure) stood before a small sealed doorway, rubbing his hands together.

  ‘You have all come such a long way this week. I’m proud to have you on my side, and that’s where I need you in these dangerous times. This is the most difficult test, the one
that will decide who comes with me to my secret facility for the main part of this mission. Some of the test may look familiar, but please don’t be fooled. Your previous tricks may work, but don’t take them for granted. Be vigilant.’ He looked around at the serious faces. ‘You’re ready. Good. The rules are: enter the code, complete each quarter in turn and run to me to record your time when you’re done.’

  Then he stepped away from the door, and Janey’s heart sank. This sounded like the field challenge she’d found so difficult. Surely though, after the week’s training she’d had, she’d be able to cope this time? She waited for the line to dwindle, letting everyone go in ahead of her until she was the only one left.

  ‘You’ll be late,’ said her father sternly, pointing at the gate.

  Why’s he being so bossy? thought Janey . . . Then she laughed. Of course. The code. She tapped in ‘UL B L8’ and looked back at her dad as the door swung open ahead of her. He nodded his encouragement, and she stepped into the dome.

  snowdome

  It was icy. Beyond icy. The temperature plummeted way below freezing the moment the door closed behind her. She had been in cold conditions before, but this compared only with when she’d been trapped in a freezer by the Sinerlesse. Her Blonde SPIsuit protected her body from her neck to her toes, but within seconds her face burned from the icy air, and her bare left hand felt withered and useless, the knuckles seizing up with the cold. She couldn’t even see in the harsh white glare that bounced off the ground, the walls and the ceiling of the snowdome.

  ‘Move, Blonde!’ said Janey, urging herself to take action. Just standing there would be the worst possible thing to do; the icy temperatures would take hold in seconds . . . As quickly as she could with her numbed fingers, Janey wrapped her ponytail around her mouth and nose and tucked the end back into the band that held it in place. Now she had a loose mask covering the lower half of her face, below her Ultra-gogs. ‘Far wall,’ she instructed the glasses. Two little rows of red lights illuminated her lenses like a landing strip, and she stepped forward tentatively.