The Ministry of SUITs

by Paul Gamble

  “You aren’t serious,” said Jack.

  David looked incredibly serious. “That’s one of the reasons they need us. A lot of them have hooks for hands, which makes it very hard to change the gears when they’re driving the excavators and dump trucks. To start off with they use us for that … but they’re selecting the best and training us to replace the older pirates.”

  “How can you train to be a pirate?” asked Jack.

  “They gave me a timetable.”69 David took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “This morning we had a class on pirate etymology—how to say things like ‘yoho,’ ‘make him walk the plank,’ and ‘pieces of eight.’ Then this evening I’m scheduled to have sessions on seafaring, naval lore, and singing sea shanties. I’ve also learned what we should do with a drunken sailor early in the morning.”70

  “Pirates,” muttered Jack. “I always thought pirates were good guys, laughing, murdering, and stealing. But it turns out they’re bad guys, kidnapping children and digging large holes.”

  “And that isn’t all. They’ve already figured out that I wouldn’t be much use at driving the diggers. I uhh, might have crashed one when they gave me a go on it shortly after I got here.”

  “So what does that mean?” asked Jack.

  “Well, because they don’t need me to be able to drive a digger … they’re doing my pirate initiation ceremony tomorrow evening.” David looked ashen-faced at the thought of this.

  “What’s the initiation ceremony?” asked Trudy. “It can’t be that bad, can it? They’ll probably just take you out on a boat and make you drink a few bottles of grog.”

  David rolled up one leg of his trousers and showed them his right arm. Around the calf of his leg and the thinnest part of his wrist someone had crudely drawn two dotted lines with ballpoint pen.

  “What are those dotted lines for?” Jack asked.

  “They’re going to saw off my hand and my foot,” whispered David, “and replace them with a hook and a peg leg.”

  The thought of it made Jack feel physically sick. “They … they can’t…”

  David pointed across the cavern where other children were standing with crutches and eye patches. “They can and they have.” Jack saw that many of the children in the cavern had already received artificial pirate limbs.

  “We’re getting you out of here right now,” said Jack. “We can carry you up the wall using The Speed.”

  “Can you take everyone?” asked David.

  Jack looked across the cavern—there were hundreds of captives. “Well … no, there are too many.”

  “Then you’ll have to leave me. They have a roll call every morning. They’ve said if one of us is missing they’ll kill twenty as a punishment.”

  “Pirates are evil,” gasped Jack.

  “Is that really coming as a shock to you?” asked Trudy.

  “Yes!” said Jack indignantly. “I always thought they were fun. There are theme-park rides and films based on them!”

  “Look, I can’t leave unless all the kids here can leave,” said David. “It’s as simple as that. You guys get out of here, get help, and come back. But make sure you do it before six o’clock tomorrow night.”

  “Why six o’clock?” asked Trudy.

  “That’s the time set for my initiation.” David nodded at the dotted line on his calf. “And if you aren’t back by then, half the money I spent on my Adidas three-stripe Samba trainers will have been completely wasted.”

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  MARTIAL ARTS/KARATE

  KARATE STANCES

  The standard karate stance is feet shoulder-width apart, arms with one fist clenched and one open. This was the stance the karate masters adopted when using a saw. As previously discussed, all karate masters were originally builders. Many people these days claim that the stances are based on animal positions or martial defense. In reality, they are all based on the use of carpentry tools. Which is why so many of them look like someone trying to hammer a nail into a wall. If you don’t believe me, look at karate stances and then imagine them with a hammer in one hand and a nail in the other. You’d be surprised how often it works.

  * * *

  37

  SUBSTANDARD CAVALRY

  Jack didn’t even need to pause before using The Speed to run back up the cliff wall and out of the cavern. The sad thought he used was the dotted line around the wrist of his best friend. It seemed as if things couldn’t get any worse.

  Once they had sneaked out of the P.E. teacher’s office they headed straight to the Ministry to tell Grey what they had uncovered.

  * * *

  “So how are you going to help us rescue David and the children?” asked Jack.

  “Yeah,” said Trudy. “We need the cavalry.”

  Grey sighed. “You still haven’t quite got it yet, have you?”

  “Got what?”

  “You want the cavalry?”

  “Yeah, like in cowboy movies. The cavalry rides in and saves the day.”

  “You are the cavalry.”

  “We are the cavalry?” spluttered Jack.

  Trudy looked at Jack. “Pretty crappy cavalry.”

  “I’m not going to disagree with you on that point,” said Grey unkindly. “But we Men and Women in Suits are the last line of defense. Things too odd for the police, too strange for the army, and too scary for the politicians. That’s what we deal with.”

  “But surely you could send more agents to help us?”

  “There aren’t that many of us. The entire Ministry in Northern Ireland consists of less than a hundred people … and, well … things. And most of them are administration and filing staff. We might be able to have a few more frontline agents, but Cthulhu has made the bureaucracy maddeningly complicated.”

  “Why don’t you fire him?” asked Trudy, her voice sounding barely under control.

  “He’s an ancient being of almost unlimited power with psychopathic tendencies. Do you want to be the one to tell him to pack up his desk and collect his last paycheck on the way out?”

  “Is there no one who could help us?” asked Trudy.

  “You aren’t the only ones dealing with a crisis. Just at the minute we have three evil geniuses bent on world domination, a technologically enhanced virus that threatens to destroy all the world’s cows, and a chess-playing computer that has reached such a level of intelligence that it wants to stop playing pointless games and audition for a television talent show. We wouldn’t mind that except it really, really can’t sing.”

  “So you can’t offer any help? We don’t know how we’ll get the kids out of the cavern.”

  “We can’t offer any more manpower. We could try and get you guys some equipment. Let’s go and see the quartermaster.”

  “Incidentally, I don’t suppose you have any idea why they’re digging under the ground and not looking for anything?” asked Jack. “If it’s pirates, I assume it might be buried treasure.”

  Grey thought for a moment. “It could be, I suppose. Or it might be something to do with the dinosaurs.”

  Grey talked to them about dinosaurs as they walked through the corridors of the Ministry to the quartermaster’s store.

  “I’ve already explained to you that the dinosaurs didn’t just die out. People stopped believing in them, so the Ministry stepped in and started hiding them. They had an alarming tendency to trample schoolchildren that was becoming quite problematic.”

  “Where do you hide a dinosaur?” asked Trudy.

  “Well, to start off with, in caves. The aquatic ones we hid in big lochs.”

  “Are you saying that the Loch Ness Monster is a dinosaur hidden by the Ministry?” asked Jack.

  “Well, not the Loch Ness Monster. The Loch Ness Monster is something considerably more terrifying than a dinosaur. But, generally, if you hear about a strange monster, it’s just a dinosaur that’s been put into hiding.”

  “So are all dinosaurs hidden in caves?”
asked Jack.

  “Well, in places like Northern Ireland they are, yes. We didn’t have many dinosaurs, so there are enough natural caves and caverns to hide them in. In larger places they tend to build containment units to capture them all.”

  “Like what?” asked Trudy. “Don’t people notice if you start digging vast underground caverns to keep dinosaurs in?”

  Grey chuckled. “People notice what they want to notice. In London all the dinosaurs are hidden on the Underground tunnels. Huge stretches of unused London Tube are home to hidden dinosaurs.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Have you ever been to London? Ever noticed that the underground trains are always being delayed? That’s what happens when a dinosaur gets loose. And occasionally the tunnels make low rumbling, grumbling noises. Trains don’t make those kinds of noises. Those are the kinds of noises that dinosaurs make. Low, rumbling noises. Occasionally you’ll hear a high-pitched screech, but that’s their mating sound. And if you hear that, it’s essential that you get out of the way before you get trampled by an amorous dinosaur.”

  Jack shook his head. “Even with everything that’s come before, this is asking too much. I just can’t believe in this.”

  And then Grey said something that made Jack believe. “Have you ever wondered why people always say that a dinosaur was as large as a double-decker bus, or as long as three train carriages? Simple. The people who work for London transport are also the people who look after dinosaurs. So when they think of how tall a dinosaur is, they also think of public transport.”

  Jack was stunned. He had been thinking exactly this just a few days ago. It made perfect sense.

  “Do the dinosaurs enjoy the underground life?” Trudy asked.

  “They seem to,” said Grey. “We make sure they’re well fed and they generally just lie about all day. Notoriously lazy creatures, dinosaurs.”

  Jack had loved dinosaurs when he had been younger and was quite excited to suddenly believe that they were still alive. “So do dinosaurs look like they do in Jurassic Park?”

  “They’re the same shape, but they tend to be a lot brighter. They come in yellows and purples and the most brilliant red that you could possibly imagine. Some of the larger ones even come in gold and silver varieties.”

  Jack laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Grey asked.

  “Well, the dinosaurs were green, or brownish green. It helped camouflage them against the trees. They would be too easily seen otherwise.”

  Grey shook his head. “Really? Jack, some dinosaurs are the height of three double-decker buses. Do you think that just because something large is green that you’re not going to see it? If they painted buses green, would they become invisible?”

  Jack admitted that the idea that something that large could be camouflaged did seem slightly absurd. “Can I see the dinosaurs?”

  “Of course you can. Once you join up in the Ministry you can be privy to all our secrets. After all, you’ve metaphorically signed on the dotted line.”

  Mention of a dotted line jolted Jack back to reality. He suddenly remembered the dotted lines around David’s hand and calf. Jack felt slightly guilty. He had gotten caught up in the talk of dinosaurs and had forgotten about David. “Why did you start talking about dinosaurs in the first place, Grey?”

  “I was just thinking about why all that digging is going on. Northern Ireland’s dinosaurs are hidden underground in the Marble Arch Caves.”71

  Trudy’s eyes widened. “Do you think Chapeau Noir Enterprises might be trying to free the dinosaurs? They could use them to try and take over the world.”

  “It’s possible.…” Grey was hesitant. “But they’d be foolish if that’s what they were trying to do.”

  “But why? Aren’t dinosaurs incredibly strong and fierce?”

  “They are … but they’re also very lazy and hard to motivate, and they don’t take direction well.”

  “In what way?” asked Jack.

  “Well, if you stick out an arm pointing at your enemies expecting the dinosaur to gobble them down, you’re more likely to find it chewing on your elbow. So they’re of limited use as crack troops. You can get them to stampede in one direction, but that’s about the most you can hope for.”

  “So why did you mention them?” asked Trudy.

  “I just thought of the caves because they are quite near the border. And the children were being kidnapped all around the border, weren’t they?”

  “How do they keep the dinosaurs in the Marble Arch Caves?” asked Jack.

  “Have you ever been to the caves?”

  “I went with my father years ago,” said Trudy. “They’re full of stalactites and stalagmites.”

  “I suppose they told you the stalactites were made by dripping water,” chuckled Grey.

  “Aren’t they?” asked Jack.

  “The things people believe.” Grey shook his head. “Have you ever noticed a shower head covered in stalactites? Or a shower tray covered in stalagmites?”

  Trudy said that this was something she had never seen.

  “And yet if they’re formed by dripping water, bathrooms should be full of them. The stalagmites are built by Ministry craftsmen to keep the dinosaurs in.”

  “I’ve seen pictures of the Marble Arch Caves,” interrupted Jack. “Those stalagmites aren’t big enough to stop dinosaurs from getting out.”

  “They aren’t meant as bars of a cage. They’re more like the equivalent of a cattle grid for dinosaurs. The dinosaurs, being big and clumsy, can’t get out without stepping on them. And when they step on them they hurt their feet. So they don’t even try and leave.”

  “That makes sense,” said Trudy.

  “I really wish it didn’t,” complained Jack. “That means my entire primary-five geology project was a load of rubbish. I’m going to have to go home and rip it up this evening.”

  “But I really can’t imagine Mr. Teach and Chapeau Noir going to all this trouble to free the dinosaurs,” said Grey.

  Grey pointed at the door they had stopped in front of. “Now, bear in mind, we’ll have to fill out forms to get the equipment and that will be unpleasant and potentially impossible.”

  Jack thought he knew what Grey meant. Filling out forms was never fun. “But if we fill out the forms, then we’ll get whatever equipment we want?”

  “Well, yes … although no one has ever successfully filled out a form.”

  Jack felt his heart fall slightly. “How come?”

  “Because the forms are infinitely long.”

  * * *

  MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK

  DINOSAURS

  MATING CRY

  The only thing more dangerous that an angry dinosaur is an amorous dinosaur. Therefore Ministry operatives are advised to run in the opposite direction if they hear a dinosaur mating cry.

  If you have never heard a dinosaur mating cry, the sound it most closely resembles is the same sound as fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard.

  This is why humans find the sound of fingers on a chalkboard so unpleasant. This was a sound of danger to cavemen versions of us from many years ago—a warning to run and hide. Therefore an ancestral memory, hidden somewhere deep in our subconscious minds, is still terrified when it hears this sound.

  * * *

  This also goes part of the way to explaining why the Ministry had to hide the dinosaurs in the first place. Because the sound of nails on a chalkboard sounds to dinosaurs like a mating cry, many cavemen schools had to be disbanded following a series of fatal squashings.

  * * *

  38

  THE QUARTERMASTER’S STORE

  The quartermaster’s store was enormous. In fact, it was beyond enormous. With only eight letters, enormous was a ridiculously small word to try and explain just how big the store was.

  For a start, the store was impossibly tall. Where the roof should have been there were several banks of fluffy, white clouds. Birds circled high above their
heads. Each of the birds had miniature oxygen tanks on their backs and little plastic breathing masks strapped over their beaks.

  “Is it safe to breathe the air in here, Grey?” asked Jack, doing his best not to inhale.

  “Oh, yes, perfectly. The birds only need to wear the oxygen tanks for when they fly up to the rafters where they build their nests. Up there, the air is so thin that they can’t breathe properly.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Trudy. “Because even if the roof really is that high up, we’re still under the museum, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, it is strange, isn’t it?” said Grey. “I’ve never really figured out how that works.”

  There was a deafening crash a couple of feet away from where Jack was standing. Jack leapt into the air and his heart played a paradiddle against his rib cage.

  A block of ice had crashed into the floor, causing a crater three feet wide. David and Trudy both looked to Grey for an explanation.

  “Yes, perhaps I should have warned you about that.”

  “You think?” asked Trudy. “What was it?”

  “Well, occasionally a rather stupid bird decides to fly all the way up to the very top of the roof. Up there it’s so cold that their wings freeze and they turn into little birdy ice cubes. When that happens they come crashing to the ground. Nasty business. Three people have been killed by falling wildfowl this year.”

  “Aren’t there any safety precautions we should be taking? Like, wearing some kind of a hat?”

  Grey pointed to the crater the ice-covered bird had made when it had crashed into the ground. “The floor is reinforced concrete with cast-iron gratings through it for extra rigidity. The iced bird fell so far and so fast that it made a hole in that. What kind of hat would protect you?”

  Jack admitted that it would have to be a pretty big hat to be of any use.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever done anything to make it more safe?” asked Trudy.