by Paul Gamble
all the time,
Won’t you come and be,
my sweet baby-mine.
The remaining bluebottle and its reptilian friend were stomped, clawed, bitten, and generally thrown around the room until they were piles of bruised and battered flesh.
Jack suspected that the polar bear had merely been playing with the creatures and could have finished them off in a few seconds. Instead it had wasted time picking them up in its maw and shaking them like a dog with a chew toy.
The creatures now lay motionless on the ground and the polar bear turned toward Jack. It took Jack a second to realize that he should now be terrified. Up until this moment Jack had looked upon the polar bear as a comrade, an ally. Now he realized that the polar bear had merely been doing what came naturally to it. It had attacked creatures that it saw as a threat.
Previously Jack had been endangered because he was being attacked by three hybrid creatures. Now he was in trouble because he was about to be attacked by a polar bear. His situation hadn’t been substantially improved. In fact, if anything, it had gotten slightly worse.
The bear stalked toward Jack and raised an enormous bloodied paw in the air. Every muscle in Jack’s body tensed, his eyes closed, and his teeth clamped shut as he waited for the impact to come.
And he waited. And waited.
Nothing happened.
Jack opened his eyes and looked at the polar bear above him. Its paw was still in the air poised to strike, but it wasn’t moving. Then it struck Jack.56 Of course, the polar bear had stopped moving. When he had tensed his body for the impact he had stopped singing! And once he stopped singing the polar bear returned to the game of musical statues.
Jack was so happy he felt like singing. Which he didn’t do. Because that would have made the polar bear start moving again. And it would have hit him. And then he wouldn’t have felt like singing anymore.
Jack stood still for a moment, wondering what he should do next, then—“Trudy!”
* * *
Jack raced back toward the art gallery. He hoped that the old lady hadn’t done anything to his friend. But before he made it as far as the door, Grey appeared. He was helping a limping Trudy walk.
“We saw the attack on security cameras down in the Ministry,” explained Grey. “I ran up here as quickly as I could, but the old lady had already gone.”
“Is everything okay?” asked Jack, looking at Trudy for signs of a serious injury.
“Well, there are a few broken bones,” said Grey.
Jack gasped.
“But they’re mainly in the dinosaur display, so we won’t worry too much about that.”
“I meant, how is she?” asked Jack.
“She…” said Trudy testily, “… has a name. And she is fine.”
Jack was so happy that he felt like hugging Trudy. However, he refrained from taking this course of action as he was quite badly bruised and didn’t want to have to suffer an additional punched shoulder.
“What happened with the old lady?”
“I think she panicked when the other creatures didn’t return. One of the dog creatures revived and went with her. For some reason they stole a number of dinosaur bones when they were escaping, but we have no idea why.”
“Well, at least they didn’t get us,” said Jack brightly.
Trudy stepped away from Grey and wandered over to the mangled hybrid creatures that had attacked Jack.
“Ewwww,” Trudy said. “I can’t believe you did this, Jack. You could have shown some self-restraint.”
“I didn’t do that. The polar bear did,” said Jack.
Trudy looked as if she didn’t believe him. “A stuffed polar bear?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Trudy nudged the body with her feet. “You know the snake-creature has actually been torn into two separate parts, don’t you?”
Jack looked slightly squeamish. Trudy was right—the creature had been ripped apart. “Well, don’t worry: If it’s in two parts, they’ll both grow into new snakes, won’t they?”
“That isn’t snakes you’re thinking of,” said Trudy. “That’s earthworms.”
“Oh, right … In that case it’s almost certainly quite dead.”
“I would have thought so,” agreed Trudy.
“Enough talk about corpses; let’s get you two down to the Ministry and bandaged up.” Grey led them away.
The three companions wandered through the museum. Much of it was wrecked. “They’ll have to close the museum for a few days,” said Jack. “And people will ask questions about what happened.”
“Nonsense,” said Grey. “We have protocols for dealing with this kind of event.”
Grey walked over to a blue, Chinese-style vase that had been knocked off its pedestal and broken. He picked up the pieces and replaced them on the pedestal. Then he took a sleek black fountain pen out of his jacket pocket and started writing on the information card that was beside the exhibit.
Jack walked over to see what Grey had written. At the bottom of the information card he had added one simple sentence: Vase damaged during excavation.
“Will that really fool people?” asked Jack skeptically.
“Think about it, Jack. Museums all over the world are filled with broken objects. The reason for this is simple. They’re all Ministry buildings and they all get attacked occasionally.”
Jack laughed, then realized that Grey was serious.
“Think, Jack! How come they only show partial dinosaur skeletons? If you find a dinosaur skeleton, it should all be in one place. After the dinosaur died it will have fallen over and the flesh will have rotted away. So all the bones should be in one place, unless of course a giant dog came and stole a few … but most of the time all the bones should be in one place. And yet museums hardly ever have complete skeletons. Why? Because when enemies attack Ministry buildings the bones get stolen or destroyed.”
Almost all museums Jack had ever visited had broken or damaged exhibits. On a school trip to France when they had gone to see the Venus de Milo in the Louvre museum it had been missing its arms. At the time Jack had assumed that archaeologists hadn’t found the arms, but on reflection he realized how ridiculous this was. Why would someone remove the arms from a statue and put them in a different place? The only explanation was that the arms had been damaged in an attack!
“… So the Venus de Milo…”
“Now you understand!” said Grey with a smile. “The Venus de Milo was damaged when a rogue group of golems attacked the Louvre, which houses the French Ministry.”
“Up until now I’d always thought that she got overenthusiastic about biting her nails.”
“No. That wasn’t the case, Jack. That would be crazy.”
“I was just jok—”
Grey cut Jack off. “Anyway, we need to get downstairs. The cleaners will take care of all this.”
Even as Grey was speaking, a number of men and women in white overalls were scurrying around the museum, putting exhibits back in their place and adjusting the cards describing the artifacts.
Jack hurt all over and was keen to get down to the Ministry. He was sure that they would have some kind of amazing way to help heal his bruised flesh and aching bones.
* * *
MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK
ATTACKS ON MINISTRY SITES
THE VENUS DE MILO AND THE MONA LISA
Many people think that the Venus de Milo is the most famous example of an artifact damaged in an attack on Ministry premises. But it isn’t. The most famous example is a painting called the Mona Lisa. The Mona Lisa was attacked by a group of radical anarchists who stormed the French Ministry headquarters (called “Le Ministre,” unsurprisingly). Ironically they all got away because they were so well organized, which in some ways undermines their status as anarchists.
Obviously the group did not manage to steal the Mona Lisa. However, they did manage to steal her eyebrows. Many people think that the Mona Lisa has an enigmatic smile. That w
as not the original intention of the painting. It was meant to be of a woman who was surprised. But without the eyebrows it’s impossible to tell.
The Mona Lisa was very surprised that her eyebrows were stolen, but without her eyebrows she had no way to express this.
* * *
30
BANDAGES ON MY LEGS AND ARMS
Although there wasn’t a mirror in the Ministry’s medical room Jack was sure he looked like an absolute idiot. He was sure of this because Trudy looked like an absolute idiot and they had both been patched up by the same nurse.
Bandages were loosely wound around their arms and legs, not because they necessarily needed bandages on their arms and legs, but simply because limbs were the easiest part of the body to bandage.57 Their faces were covered in a variety of Band-Aids. Several of Jack’s Band-Aids ran across his eyebrows and he was not looking forward to trying to take them off later.
“I was sort of expecting you to have some kind of wonderful medical procedure that would allow us to recover in an instant.”
Grey looked slightly offended at this suggestion. “Do you think if we had a magical medical cure we wouldn’t share it with the rest of the world? We’d just keep it to ourselves so that we’d be okay while the rest of the world suffered? What kind of people would that make us?”
Jack frowned. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. If you did that, it would have made you fairly awful people. Sorry.”
“Mmmm. I should think so.”
Trudy and Jack were sitting on two metal-framed beds. Originally Jack had tried lying down on his bed, but there was a sign placed on the ceiling above it. The sign read IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU PROBABLY AREN’T DEAD. In some ways it was quite an encouraging thought, but the fact it said “probably” had unnerved Jack and he felt more comfortable sitting up.
The nurse that was looking after them seemed kind, but Jack had begun to doubt her ability after she had applied the third bandage to his wrist. There was something odd about her, although Jack was struggling to figure out what it was. A badge on her lapel read Nurse Nufty.
“That’s you all fixed up, my lovelies. You’ll be right as rain in three or four weeks.” Nurse Nufty smiled at them. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting on. Apparently Mr. Cthulhu has given himself a paper cut again, and you know what a big baby he is about things like that.”
Nurse Nufty bustled out of the room, leaving Grey, Trudy, and Jack alone. As she was leaving Jack figured out what was unusual about her.
“She has a foot on one of her arms!”
Grey shook his head. “No, she doesn’t.”
“She does! I saw it.”
“I think you’ll find that both her feet were on the ends of her legs. It’s just that one of her legs is where one of her arms should be.”
Jack thought about this for a moment. “I’m not sure that makes a substantial difference. How did it happen?”
“Well, let me put it like this: If you think our nurses are incompetent, you should see our surgeons.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Right, so that’s the Ministry healthcare. I don’t suppose there’s any way I could opt out and get private medical insurance.”
“Maybe one day, Jack. But in the meantime I’d suggest that if you lose any limbs in a fight, it’s vitally important to remember to label them before the ambulance collects you.”
“Helpful hint. Thanks.”
Trudy sighed. “If you two have quite finished with your nonsense, maybe we can discuss something more important.”
“Like?” asked Grey.
“What were those creatures that attacked us in the museum?”
“Good question,” said Grey. “The old lady said they were made by an evil scientist, but I suspect they were something altogether more innocent.”
“Like martial artists in fancy dress?”
“Of course not, Jack. I think whoever is behind this has hired some werecreatures. A lot of evil people do. Werecreatures are nonunionized and so they work for minimum wage.”
“Werecreatures—like werewolves?”
“Exactly. The ones that looked like dogs, well, they were werewolves. The bluebottles were werebluebottles and the snake was a…”
“Weresnake?” guessed Trudy.
“So you did know what they were, then?” Grey said, clearly impressed.
“I didn’t realize you could get all different kinds of wereanimals,” Jack said, raising his eyebrows in a manner that would have made the Mona Lisa jealous.
“Oh yes. All animals can have a ‘were’ version.”
“So how do they get created, then?”
“It’s a genetic disease thing. Don’t ask me to explain it. It involves the gravitational pull of the moon and some kind of viral infection, I think. You have to be bitten on the first day of the new moon, though. Even then it doesn’t always work.”
“I always thought that if all it took to become a werewolf was to get bitten by a wolf, there should be a lot more of them about,” said Trudy.
“Well, few people ever get the chance to wait for the next full moon to turn into a werewolf. After all, normally when you start getting bitten by a wolf, you finish off being eaten by a wolf. But there are lots of other werecreatures—weredogs, werehamsters, werebeetles, wereants … The list is endless. Wolves just tend to be the most frequently sighted. Also, some animals tend to bite people less often, so there are fewer werehamsters about, for instance. And the average werehamster is a lot less frightening than the average werewolf.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, a werewolf is half man, half wolf. It has the cunning and the intelligence of a man along with the strength, the speed, and the hunger for blood that possesses a wolf. Therefore a werewolf may well try and kill people. Werehamsters, however, have the characteristics of a hamster, so they tend not to crave the flesh of humans. A classic werewolf will wake up in the morning covered in blood and with no idea why. The classic werehamster wakes up to find his cheeks stuffed with nuts and kernels and wondering why his head is stuck in a toilet roll tube. The werewolf’s life is one of horror, misery, and loneliness; a werehamster’s is one of confusion. Of course they spend a lot of money on paper towels and toilet paper that they don’t use properly.”
“I wish that we’d been attacked by werehamsters,” said Jack.
“That would have been easier,” agreed Grey. “They’re especially easy to deal with during the winter months.”
“Why’s that?” asked Trudy.
“Normally they hibernate. So that means on the new moon in winter the only way to recognize a werehamster is that they’ll turn up slightly late for work.”
Jack laughed. “How come I’ve never seen a film about a werehamster?”
Grey turned to Jack. “If someone made a film called Revenge of the Werehamster, would you pay to see it?”58
“Probably not.”
“Well, that’s probably why the movie has never been made.”
“The werehamster seems like the dullest type of animal possible,” said Trudy.
“Maybe. Of course I did know a werebook once.”
“A werebook?” Trudy laughed.
“A werebook. A librarian was staying late, updating the microfiche during the new moon. He accidently gave himself a paper cut from a Delia Smith book. Ever since then he wakes up after the new moon with all sorts of practical and delicious recipe ideas. Anyway, enough about werecreatures. The Minister wants to see you both, so we’d better get a move on.”
“Great,” said Jack. “Now that we know Chapeau Noir Enterprises are up to something I’m sure the Minister will want to stop them.”
* * *
MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK
BAND-AIDS
THE BEST WAY TO REMOVE THEM
You will probably already have figured this out, but Band-Aids were clearly invented by an evil scientist.
No one but an evil scientist would invent something that goes over a cut, but t
hen actually causes more pain when it is removed than the cut caused in the first place.
The easiest way to remove a Band-Aid is to go to a public swimming pool. For some reason the minute you jump into a swimming pool, the Band-Aid will come right off and spend the next few weeks floating around and freaking out everyone else who uses the pool.
* * *
There is only one totally painless way to remove a Band-Aid. Take it off someone else’s skin.
* * *
31
A DEAL STRUCK
Grey left Jack and Trudy outside the Minister’s office.
“Aren’t you coming in with us?”
Grey shook his head. “We used a lot of bandages. I’ve got to go and fill out the paperwork.”
“Paperwork?”
“Ninety percent of Ministry work is paperwork. Nine percent is avoiding trying to do the paperwork.”
“And the remaining one percent?”
“Mostly trying to avoid getting killed.”
Jack knocked at the Minister’s door.
“Come in!”
Jack and Trudy walked into the room to find that the Minister already had a guest. It was the strangest-looking guest that Trudy or Jack had ever seen.
“Ahh, Jack … Trudy. If you just want to sit down for a few minutes, I’ll finish my conversation with this … gentleman.”
The “gentleman” to which the Minister was referring stood in front of the desk. He was a large, bulky man. Jack’s father was six feet tall, but this man was considerably bigger than that. He was also very muscular, indeed, but not in the way that models in fashion magazines were muscular. A model’s muscles are clearly defined and rippled. This man’s muscles didn’t ripple at all. Instead they bulged. He looked like a man who went to the gym to get stronger rather than to look good. He had a full head of hair and a rough brown beard. A long scar ran down one side of his face.
All of this would have been relatively unremarkable if it hadn’t been for the fact that the man was wearing a pink tutu. It wasn’t a flattering look. The tutu bulged and strained to try and keep the man’s considerable bulk in check.