by Paul Gamble
* * *
14
BREAKFAST IN BED
TUESDAY
Jack was surprised at how easily he managed to go to sleep. Although danger was stimulating, it was also tiring. Which was good, because otherwise his life as a Ministry agent would have meant he was continually plagued by insomnia.
When Jack opened his eyes in the morning, the first thing he saw was a tray filled with bacon, sausages, and two poached eggs sitting on his bedside cabinet. His mother was also sitting on the side of the bed. Jack’s keen investigative abilities told him that it was highly likely that these two things were somehow connected.
“How are you this morning?”
“Fine,” said Jack. He was suspicious that his mother was up to something.
“I’ve brought you some breakfast.”
Jack looked at the breakfast. If it had been called a breakfast bomb,32 he might have been reluctant to try it, but as it wasn’t he tucked in immediately.
“What’s all this about?”
“I just wanted to give you breakfast in bed as a bit of a treat. You got a big shock last night.”
“Mmmm, that’s right, I did,” said Jack between mouthfuls of bacon. “Just to be crystal clear on that—you aren’t holding me in any way responsible for the bathroom being blown up?”
Jack’s mother smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. It must have been a faulty chemical in the bath bomb or the plumbing, like you said. You’re only twelve, Jack. You’re hardly capable of blowing things up.”
“Yes,” agreed Jack as he shoveled a yolky bit of sausage into his mouth. “That’s true.” He was incredibly glad that his mother didn’t know anything about his adventure the previous week when he had been instrumental in blowing up a steam-powered dinosaur.
“Anyway, your dad and I were thinking. Maybe you should take today off school.”
“What?” Jack had only half been listening as he was wondering if there was an age at which it was all right to start blowing things up.33 “No, Mum, I really want to go to school.”
“Really?” Jack’s mother put her hand to his forehead to test his temperature. “I offer you a day off school and you say you actually want to go? Maybe you were concussed in that blast.”
“I’m fine, Mum!” said Jack as he wolfed down the last piece of egg. “I just want to go to school and see my friends.”
Jack bolted out of his room and jumped into the shower. For some reason he always thought better after a shower. He couldn’t help wondering why that was.
* * *
When Jack got on the school bus, he made straight for the seat beside David. A kind person would have said that David had saved the seat for Jack. A more realistic person would have observed that David didn’t really need to save the seat, as no one wanted to sit beside David. It wasn’t that David was disliked, it was more that he was so clumsy that no one ever noticed if he got a tan as his base skin color was ninety percent bruise. His thatch of dirty-blond hair and angular limbs made him look like a trigonometry diagram of a scarecrow. Sadly, few people sought out his company, although it never really bothered him. David was as odd as a thousand right socks.
“Hey, Jack, I covered for you in yesterday’s classes.”
“You’ll never guess what happened to me last night.”
“Was it something unusual?” asked David.
“Yes.”
“Mmmm,” replied David. “Then you’re right, I’d never guess. If it was something normal, I’d probably stand a chance at guessing. But not if it’s something unusual.”
Jack would have assumed that anyone else was pulling his leg, but he knew that David was being both bizarrely and deadly serious. David carried on with his whimsical train of thought. “I mean, I might have been able to guess if you’d just been watching TV, or playing a video game or having a bath. But I’d never guess if it was something unusual. I mean, it’s hard to guess things when they’re unusual. That’s kind of what the word ‘unusual’ means.”
“Actually, I was having a bath.…”
David turned and looked at Jack. “Jack, that isn’t unusual.”
David and Jack both simultaneously sighed at each other.
* * *
When Jack and David got to school, poor Trudy was waiting for them. Jack could tell that she was itching to tell them something and so quickly got in with his conversation first.
“You nearly got me killed last night! Never take me to a soap and sponge shop again!”
Trudy’s eyes widened in surprise. “What happened?”
Jack explained about the bath bomb and the massive spider that had been hidden in his bathroom.
David tutted. “You didn’t mention any of that earlier. That would have been quite unusual.”
“There’s something going on here,” Trudy said. “The criminal fish escaping from the Ministry, exploding cleansing products, spiders under baths, women walking into the sea, giant crabs. It’s all water based.”
Jack nodded.
“You two and your conspiracy theories.” David laughed. Jack was amazed that David could be so incredulous despite the fact that the previous week he had been kidnapped and almost surgically altered to be a pirate. David’s world didn’t seem to follow any kind of normal or sensible rules.
“I think we need to go back to Neptune’s Den and see what’s happening there.” Jack wanted to know why the woman in the shop had tried to kill him. Although he was more than a little scared of the soap shop in case, alongside the bath bombs, there were exploding washcloths or poisonous toothbrushes.
“We can maybe go there later, but we’ve got something else we need to do first,” said Trudy. “There’s something you need to see, Jack. I’ve been waiting. Something very odd happened at the school yesterday.”
Jack thought it was going to have to be very odd indeed to beat exploding bath bombs and giant spiders.
* * *
MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK
INSOMNIA
HOW TO GET TO SLEEP
If you ever find yourself wide awake due to having an overstimulating day, one of the easiest ways to fall asleep is simply to count sheep. Traditionally, people think that counting sheep is a monotonous task and thus aids sleep. This is not even remotely true. Counting large amounts of anything is boring, but if merely adding things up made people fall asleep, then accountants and quantity surveyors would need four-poster beds instead of ergonomic office chairs.
The real reason that sheep make people drowsy is because they look so much like fluffy clouds. If you are continually looking at or imagining sheep, a switch in your brain starts to assume that you must be lying down on your back staring at the sky. Because the switch assumes you are lying down it also assumes that you want to go to sleep and releases a chemical that makes you instantly tired.
Naturally the effect of sheep makes New Zealand, which has seven sheep for every one person, a very dangerous place to visit. If you aren’t careful you may accidentally start counting sheep, and before you know it you’ll have slipped into a coma.
Many of you may wonder how shepherds manage to deal with such large numbers of sheep without being perpetually drowsy. If you wish to know the answer, please refer to the handbook section Whistling: Sheepdogs.
* * *
15
A-MAZE-D
Trudy led Jack and David through the school, heading for the back entrance and the playing fields. As they pushed past some of the other pupils, Jack could hear someone quietly singing to himself something about a “sparkling night.” Jack looked to see where the song was coming from—it seemed to be Edwyn.
Edwyn had always been a strange kid. And he had become even more strange since the “hero” Static had saved him from a group of bullies last week. Static himself was a bit of an oddball—a kid who believed that the ability to build up a static charge of electricity by shuffling his feet had turned him into a superhero.
Jack thought that maybe he ought to
stop and speak to Edwyn and offer to arrange some kind of counseling. However, Trudy was striding ahead and he had to rush to keep up.
They arrived at the edge of the playing fields but were stopped from going any farther by an enormous sign reading KEEP OUT—DANGER—FRACKING34 IN PROGRESS by Order of Poseidon International Drilling Company.
Jack was confused. “What is all this?”
Trudy handed Jack a sheet of paper. “Apparently these notices went up all around the school yesterday.” Jack read the note, which explained that it was suspected that there were enormous gas reserves hidden underneath Northern Ireland and that drilling was taking place to establish the value of this important fuel.
Jack handed the note back to Trudy. “But this doesn’t make any sense—we know that there isn’t gas underneath the playing fields—all that’s under there is a gigantic hole that the pirates dug when they were trying to turn the country into an enormous galleon.”
“Exactly,” agreed Trudy. “So what are they up to?”
The three friends watched as groups of construction workers went about their business on the playing fields. As of yet there wasn’t actually any drilling taking place, but dozens of trucks were churning up grass carrying massive steel girders back and forth.
In the center of the playing fields, three cranes were helping to erect an enormous platform. In the middle of the platform a large drill was being placed.
“This looks bad,” said Jack.
David shrugged. “I don’t know. At least if there’s one less soccer field, we might not have to do P.E. this week.”
Jack looked at David incredulously. “Last time something like this happened, you got kidnapped and nearly had an arm and leg amputated.”35
“If it means that we don’t ever have to do P.E. again, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Trudy nudged Jack and pointed. “Look what they’re doing now.”
Dozens of trucks had arrived carrying large panels of corrugated iron. Workers were slowly putting them up around the platform, walling it off from sight.
“There’s something that they don’t want us to see.”
“Yeah,” Trudy agreed, “which makes me want to see it even more.”
The bell rang and Trudy, Jack, and David reluctantly went to class.
* * *
“Aren’t you going to get the bus home?” David asked at the end of the day.
Jack shook his head. “We’re going to stay here and see what’s happening with the fracking. We’ll sneak in after the builders leave.”
“Okay, well, I’m going home. There’s going to be a documentary about newspaper shops on TV tonight. I really want to see that.”
As much as he was his best friend, Jack never really understood what motivated David. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, David? I mean, there are bound to be secrets and weird stuff and adventure.”
David just stared at Jack. “Sometimes I wonder if you listen to anything I say, Jack. A documentary—about newspaper shops.” David stressed every syllable of the phrase newspaper shops. In fact, Jack suspected he had actually thrown in a couple of extra syllables just to make his point.
“Sorry,” said Jack, “I wasn’t thinking—a documentary about newspaper shops. Of course you want to go home.”
David wandered off toward the bus and Jack turned back to where Trudy was standing. “Do you think David’s getting weirder?”
Trudy considered this. “Well, I’ve only actually known him for a week, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say yes.”
* * *
Jack and Trudy were crouching at the side of the playing fields, watching the last few construction workers packing up before heading home for the night. The construction site had changed enormously since they had left it that afternoon. Dozens of sheets of corrugated iron had been put up, making walls around the drilling platform, which could still be seen towering into the sky at the center of all the construction.
“What did you tell your parents?”
“I phoned and told them I was studying at your house. They said they’d like to meet you sometime.”
Trudy looked quizzically at Jack. “Why?”
“You’re my friend. Parents care about who their children spend time with. Don’t your parents want to meet me?”
Trudy looked at Jack sadly. “Shut up, Jack.” Jack wasn’t sure why, but he knew better than to ask any questions.
A few moments later and all the workers had finally left. Jack was slightly disgusted at the mess that they had created throughout the day. Clearly, none of the builders had thought to bring a packed lunch with them, and the playing fields were scattered with burger wrappers from fast-food restaurants. Jack started gathering them up and taking them over to a bin that was half filled with building debris. Jack stopped when he noticed Trudy staring at him.
“What?” he said defensively. “I want to save the world, but I also want it to be tidy.”
Trudy grabbed Jack by the arm and hauled him over to the enormous wall of corrugated iron in the center of which was a single wire mesh gate. A sign on the gate read PRIVATE PROPERTY—Poseidon International Drilling Company—KEEP OUT by Order of Chief Executive Ms. Regina Maris.
“This gate looks as good an entrance as anywhere else to me,” said Trudy.
An enormous green padlock held a thick black bolt in place to stop the gate from opening. “No way we’re going to break our way through this. Looks like we’re climbing.” Trudy stuck the fingers of her one good arm through the mesh gate and clambered over it in a matter of seconds. Even with two arms it took Jack considerably longer and several tries. He secretly wished to himself that he had an extra leg so he could have given himself a leg up.
“We have a problem,” Trudy said. They had both expected that once inside the fence they would have been able to stride straight over to the drilling platform. But in front of the gate they had climbed over was another long wall of corrugated iron. They couldn’t move forward—only to their left or right.
“What is this?”
“This,” sighed Trudy, “is a maze.”
“Why would anyone build a maze around a drilling platform?”
“Because they don’t want us to see what they’re doing. And we’ve just shown that people can climb over gates. Locks can be picked. Guards can be fooled. But a maze is something a lot more difficult indeed. There isn’t any way to fool a maze. We’ll just have to try and solve it.”
Jack laughed. “Mazes are easy. Follow me.” He strode confidently down the right path.
* * *
Half an hour later, Trudy and Jack stood at the center of a crossroads. Jack was stroking his chin to help himself think. It was largely ineffective.
“So mazes are easy?” questioned Trudy.
“I may have revised my opinion in relation to that,” Jack admitted. “You see, I was thinking of the mazes they put on place mats and wrappers at burger joints. You know the ones you trace a path through with a pencil. But as it turns out those are only easy because you’re looking at them from above, with a pencil. Mazes are much harder when you’re actually in them.”
“So what you’re saying is that this would be easier if we had an enormous pencil and a helicopter?”
Jack considered. “Yes, yes it would. I don’t suppose you have either?”
Trudy pretended to check her pockets. “I think if I’d worn my other jacket … but in this one, no.”
Jack sat down on the grass and slumped back against a corrugated iron wall. “Then we are very lost indeed.”
Trudy poked at Jack with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t give up.”
Jack looked up at her. “Oh, I’m not giving up. I’m just tired. I’m going to sit here and get a little rest. Then when I’ve gotten my energy back. Then … that’s when I’m going to give up.”
Trudy tutted, but the noise was almost entirely drowned out by a bellowing sound from somewhere deep within the maze. It sounded like t
he howl of a creature in great anguish. An enormous creature in great anguish. Jack didn’t mind the anguished sound. It was the size of the anguished sound that concerned him most.
Trudy shivered a little. “Maybe it’s time we should give up.”
Jack shook his head. “No, now I’m too scared to give up. I’ll let you know when my emotional state returns to a normal enough level to actually do anything constructive.”
Trudy put out a hand and hauled Jack back onto his feet.
“Which way?” Jack asked.
Trudy looked and pointed. “There’s a corner down that way, let’s head for it.”
When Jack and Trudy turned the corner they bumped into something. Something that shocked them.
* * *
MINISTRY OF S.U.I.T.S HANDBOOK
HANSEL AND GRETEL
THEIR ORIGINAL PLAN TO AVOID GETTING LOST IN THE FOREST
Many fairy tales have been mistold over the years. One example of this is “Hansel and Gretel.” People will tell you that Hansel and Gretel left a trail of bread on their way into the forest, which was then eaten by birds. This is clearly ridiculous. If you are going into a hostile environment, the last thing you want to be doing is throwing your only available rations about the place.
The truth, of course, is that their evil stepmother wanted to make doubly sure that Hansel and Gretel would die. So in addition to getting their father to leave them in the middle of the forest she also gave them a poisoned loaf.
Gretel spotted this immediately and told Hansel not to eat the bread but rather to drop pieces of it on the ground. Their plan was never to follow a trail of bread out of the forest but rather follow a trail of bread-poisoned crow corpses. Sadly Hansel and Gretel got distracted by the gingerbread house and the rest is culinary.
In the event that you ever do get caught in a forest or jungle, never use your only food supply to lay a trail. For that matter, don’t use it for shelter or makeshift clothing either. Any decent survivalist knows this. It is also the reason you never see Bear Grylls wearing a porkpie for a hat.