by Lauren Child
Ruby did know – she had heard people talking about it all her life. Beware the Sibling tides – it was one of those old sayings people handed down to their children. The point was that it was not a good idea to go out there unless you really knew what you were up to. The waters were dangerous and there were outlandish tales spanning the centuries, of people mysteriously going missing – all greatly exaggerated no doubt, but nonetheless true, at least in essence.
‘What about the actual Sibling Islands? Aren’t they kinda worth a visit?’ suggested Ruby. ‘I mean don’t people head out there to see them? I’m sure my parents are passing nearby on this yacht tour they’re on, learning about history and stuff.’
Blacker licked the donut sugar off his fingers; it was getting all over the keyboard. ‘I guess if you have the inclination to go and stare at two giant rocks sticking straight up out of the ocean – very few tourists bother to go that far, your parents excepted, I guess. It takes a long time to get there and you can’t land or anything and you certainly can’t swim. Sure, they’re sort of impressive to look at, but they don’t usually attract a lot of sightseers. It’s geologists who are interested and marine life experts; as I said, the water goes very deep and there’s a lot of unusual species of fish. Apart from that it’s pretty dangerous out there; plenty of ships used to get wrecked in olden times.’
They both sat and stared at the maps now dotted with red, green, pink, yellow and violet lights, all representing a different type of disturbance or unusual occurrence.
The telephone rang and Blacker picked up. ‘OK, I’ll send her over.’ He put the receiver down.
‘Do you think you can make it to Department 7? It’s in the violet zone, room 324 if you’re going by numbers.’
‘I reckon I’ll find it,’ said Ruby.
‘You sure?’ said Blacker, getting to his feet. ‘You want me to walk you?’
‘That’s OK,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m good at finding my way.’
She was pretty sure she knew where she was going, but even if she hadn’t had a clue, she would have said she did. The truth was, Ruby wanted to stop by somewhere.
She could have just turned left down the corridor the way she had come, but what would be the fun in that? She was a slave to her curiosity as Mrs Digby so often observed. ‘Curiosity will be the death of you young lady.’
This prophecy had almost been borne out just a matter of weeks ago – Ruby was lucky to be alive and she knew it, but it hadn’t changed a thing. She was as big a snoop as ever. So instead of turning left out of the door, she turned right.
It took some time, but after what seemed like miles of passageway and a zillion closed doors, she finally reached one she recognised. It was bright orange and it was the Spectrum gadget room.
She looked at the Bradley Baker rescue watch, tapped the exact time into the keypad and the door clicked open. The code had not been changed.
Ruby had been told not to take anything without proper permission. That meant filling out a form – in triplicate – and getting it signed by the correct authority. But the person in charge, what’s-his-name (she had never actually met him), wasn’t in Spectrum today and when was she going to get the opportunity again?
As she walked past them, the display cases and glass drawers all lit up and Ruby moved past the rows of low glass counters, slowly eyeing their contents. She was looking for something in particular, something she had seen on her first visit to Spectrum. It was in the section devoted to gadgets for use in the ocean.
The Breathing Buckle.
To be used underwater. Slip buckle off belt,
place between teeth and breathe comfortably for 27 minutes, two seconds. Warning! No reserve air canister.
Ruby could see that this device might well come in handy and she was sure that the person in charge would sign it out if she requested it – so where was the harm in taking it? She was a bona fide agent after all and she had done her dive training. So what was the big deal? She cast her eyes over the other glass drawers and cases. There was an intriguing label next to a small bag that looked to contain marbles.
LIMPET LIGHTS ALSO KNOWN AS HANSEL AND GRETEL FIND-YOUR-WAY-HOME TRAIL GLOWS.
Underwater phosphorescent lights to be used to make a trail. Guaranteed not to move. Duration five hours.
She might as well grab them too while she was at it – since she was going to get in a whole lot of trouble anyway. In for a dime, in for a dollar. She slipped the ‘borrowed’ treasures into her pockets and checked her watch.
Oops, didn’t mean to be gone so long. The time had slipped through her fingers. Peeping through the spyhole, she checked to make sure the coast was clear before opening the door. Then she walked swiftly down the corridor and up to Department 7, violet zone. She knocked before entering room 324.
‘Late!’ said a voice.
‘Oh geez,’ said Ruby. ‘Does it have to be you?’
Chapter 20.
A real potato head
RUBY COULDN’T BELIEVE HER DUMB LUCK – was she really going to have to suffer the company of the silent G?
His name was Froghorn, but the G was silent – something Ruby chose to ignore, which was just one reason their relationship was so bad. The other being that Froghorn was a petty-minded bully. At twenty-three he had been the youngest agent currently in Spectrum employment, but then Ruby had come along and spoiled all that and he was not happy about it.
‘You should be grateful little girl – I’m actually handing you some real work on a real case. This is your lucky day.’
‘Oh, I’m really stoked,’ said Ruby. ‘Being shut in a tiny room with you is my definition of a lucky day.’
‘Oh dear, now you’re getting your hopes too high. I won’t be babysitting, I have important things to work on, and I think even you can manage to listen to tape recordings by yourself.’
Ruby looked at the desk, covered in batches of tapes.
‘What are they?’ she asked.
‘You have to listen to them.’
‘What are they?’ said Ruby again.
‘Tapes – of radio shows, the kind of shows that people with very little musical taste might tune into.’
Ruby considered this for a moment. Was he talking about what she thought he was talking about?
‘I guess you’re referring to Chime Melody?’
Froghorn wrinkled his nose, evidently surprised that she was aware of the Chime situation. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, no insult intended,’ he said, not the merest hint of apology in his voice. ‘Apparently, you’re a listener?’
‘Sure, I listen,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s important to have an open mind, otherwise one walks around like one knows it all when one is actually a total potato head, no insult intended.’
Froghorn’s mouth went very small, but he chose to ignore Ruby’s jibe.
‘There seems to have been some interference of some kind, highbrow music playing on a lowbrow show – it could be accidental, just two radio frequencies clashing. However, due to all the other unusual activity, LB assigned me the job of listening to each and every tape just to make sure there isn’t some underlying voice message or communication.’
‘She assigned you? So what am I doing here?’ said Ruby.
‘You’re here because I’ve delegated to a junior agent.’
‘Are you palming this work off on me Froghorn?’ she said. It was clear he thought it was a dead-end job.
‘Not at all, it’s just the kind of chore a less able person should be doing, and your name came to mind. All you have to do is listen, though I realise this is not something you’re skilled at.’
‘Jeepers Froghorn, did your mommy not love you enough? You got some serious ego issues man.’
Froghorn pursed his lips so his mouth went even smaller. He didn’t like this Ruby Redfort girl undermining him. Who did she think she was marching in with her big mouth, mocking him, making him feel stupid?
‘Next time, don’t be late.’ The door slammed as he left.
She stared at the piles of tapes.
She felt not unlike one of those fairy-tale characters who ends up left with some impossible task – to weave straw into gold or peel 1,500 carrots before dinner time.
Might as well knuckle down. She inserted the first tape in the machine, put on the headphones and sat back in the chair.
It was going to be a long, long night.
Chapter 21.
Get Zuko
THE DOOR TO RUBY’S BEDROOM FLUNG OPEN.
‘Child, get yourself up and at it; your parent-folks will be arriving home today and I want to get your room looking like a room before your mother has me fired and run out of town.’
Ruby lifted her head from the pillow and rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted from her long night of listening to Chime Melody’s peculiar sounds.
Mrs Digby, who of course knew nothing about that, was standing in the doorway, pink rubber gloves up to her elbows, detergent in hand. Through the blur that was Ruby’s eyesight she looked like some kind of gunslinger.
Ruby groped for the clock. ‘Mrs Digby, it’s only 5.59 in the am, what are you doing?’
‘That’s right, plenty of time to do a little spring-cleaning, now up and at it!’ said the housekeeper, marching straight into Ruby’s closet. ‘I’ll start here; you can pick the debris from off of the floor.’
Ruby muttered under her breath, but she got up all the same. ‘You know you’re turning out to be a lot like Consuela.’
Mrs Digby snorted – she did not like to be compared to the Redforts’ ex-chef. Consuela was a woman she did not care for and she was glad to see the back of her and she didn’t make any bones about saying it.
However, not everyone felt the same. Consuela was an incredible chef and Brant and Sabina would pay double what the Stanwicks were paying if only she would come back.
Ruby did as she was told – it really wasn’t worth the argument. By the time she left for school her room was looking like it belonged to one of those perfect kids you saw in the commercials, those ones that smiled all the time. Ruby, dressed in a T-shirt emblazoned with the words dying of boredom here, looked about as far from being a ‘commercial kid’ as any kid could.
At the same time that Ruby was cleaning her room, Hitch got out of his car and looked out to sea. He could make out the Humberts’ cruise yacht, the Golden Albatross, coming in from the west. As it got nearer, he couldn’t help noticing that the vessel was looking less than shipshape – a little battered, a little worse for wear, a little war-torn.
Hitch had been casually leaning against the car, arms folded, drinking in the sun, but now he was suddenly alert. As the boat moved into the harbour, he could make out the faces of those aboard and no one was looking very happy. He cast his eyes over all the passengers, but could not see the faces of Brant and Sabina. He began to walk towards the yacht, picking up the pace with each step – by the time he got to the quayside, he was flat-out running.
He watched as Freddie and Marjorie Humbert wearily disembarked.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
Marjorie Humbert looked at him. ‘Pirates,’ she uttered.
Hitch scanned her face. ‘Is everyone OK?’
The Humberts looked at each other.
‘The Redforts?’ asked Hitch.
Freddie turned to him, his eyes welling up. ‘They didn’t…’ His voice caught in his throat. ‘They didn’t make it,’ he stammered.
‘What do you mean, “didn’t make it”?’ said Hitch, a sudden fear shooting through him. ‘You’re saying they’re not with you?’
‘Sabina was pitched overboard. Brant dove in to save her, but then…’ Poor Freddie, he couldn’t find the words.
‘The pirates shot them,’ said Marjorie, her voice barely audible. ‘Right there in the water. They didn’t stand a chance.’
‘You saw them get shot?’ asked Hitch.
Marjorie looked at him with her kind eyes. ‘No, we did not see that, and I’m grateful we didn’t.’ She was ashen-faced and looked close to collapse.
But Hitch needed more; he needed to know for sure. ‘But you didn’t see them, see their bodies I mean; you never saw them dead?’
Marjorie winced, but bravely held his gaze. Freddie looked away. ‘No,’ she said in a whisper. ‘We never saw them dead, but we never saw them again. I want to tell you something good Hitch, something hopeful. But I can’t.’
Freddie nodded, took her by the arm, guided her down the gangplank and together they staggered safely to shore.
Hitch didn’t miss a beat: before he had got five feet from the quayside he had radioed in to Spectrum and was put through to LB. He explained the situation and then put in his request.
‘We need to conduct a search,’ he said.
‘I’ll get someone to contact the coastguard at once,’ said LB.
‘No, that’s not what I mean,’ said Hitch firmly. ‘This is the kid’s parents we’re talking about. We need to conduct a search. Alert Sea Division, we need backup. If they’re alive at all, then they won’t be for long.’
‘Hitch, this isn’t what we do; this isn’t part of Spectrum’s remit. I’m sorry for the Redforts, I’m sorry for the kid, but these people are not part of our work here. The Twinford air-sea rescue squad will deal with the situation; they’re professionals when it comes to general civilian safety.’
‘You know these folks don’t stand a chance if we don’t step in; they’re more than likely dead already.’
‘Yes, my point exactly, they’re most likely dead already. So why would we rally our agents, and in so doing possibly blow our cover by making such an obvious and overblown search of the area? I respect your desire to make things right for the kid, but sometimes it just isn’t possible. Sometimes we have to take it on the chin and move on.’
Hitch knew she was right. No one in Spectrum could afford to get sentimental; you start getting mushy and it was time to hang up your agent-issue watch.
‘I hear you,’ said Hitch. ‘But listen – how do we know this doesn’t have something to do with Agent Trilby? How do we know the pirates who threw the Redforts overboard aren’t the same people who are causing all this marine disturbance?’
Silence from LB. Then: ‘Go on,’ she said slowly.
‘How about if I get Zuko to go in?’ said Hitch. ‘Undercover I mean, as relief air-sea rescue – he knows what he’s doing and can fly one of our helicopters dressed up like it’s air rescue, and he can search with the best equipment. No one need know and it’s just one agent.’
LB was quiet for a moment and then said, ‘OK. That could work. The fine detail is your business. Keep it covert and keep it untraceable, no link to Spectrum. Anything goes wrong, it’s your head not mine.’
‘I appreciate it LB.’ He hung up, got back in his vehicle, locked the doors and mirror-glassed the windows, then he pressed a button on the dashboard. The dash front slid up to reveal high-tech Spectrum equipment. He fed in Agent Zuko’s code name and badge number and was instantly given his co-ordinates.
Zuko was not on mission; instead he was relaxing upstate, on standby and awaiting orders. Hitch buzzed him and not ten seconds later Agent Zuko’s image appeared on the miniature screen. He was wearing a blue check shirt and looked like he might be fishing. Zuko was an old buddy of Hitch’s – they had been through some tough times, gotten each other out of plenty of scrapes, rescued each other from certain death on numerous occasions, and there wasn’t a favour too big to ask of one another.
Hitch told him the deal and in just a few minutes it was all arranged and agreed. Zuko would conduct the most thorough search of the Sibling waters; he had twenty-four hours, that was all.
With a heavy heart, the Redfort ‘house manager’ drove back to Cedarwood Drive and to Mrs Digby.
Now for the hard part, he thought.
Mrs Digby took t
he news stoically. She didn’t interrupt, she didn’t let out a cry nor did she move a muscle. She just stood there in the middle of the kitchen, her feet planted firmly on the floor. She didn’t breathe a word until Hitch had said everything he was going to say.
‘They’ll be right as rain,’ she said. ‘Mr R doesn’t give up so easily and Mrs R doesn’t give up at all. Most tenacious woman I ever met. Besides, they met while diving in Italy. They know how to swim. I’m not a water person myself, can’t abide swimming about in the ocean. If God wanted us in the ocean, he wouldn’t have made the land.’ She was burbling on while she busied herself like nothing was amiss. ‘Those two, they could swim in treacle.’
Hitch didn’t contradict her, but he wasn’t feeling so confident. There had been shots into the water, a whole lot of bullets. It wasn’t the swimming he was worrying about. If they were swimming, then that meant they had survived the pirates and that seemed unlikely. Pirates were not nice people, never had been. All those books you read about them, all those films that made them out to be funny and romantic, they weren’t true. Pirates were cold-blooded killers only interested in what they could steal.
He got up from the kitchen bar stool and reached for his keys.
‘I better get down to the school – pick up Ruby. I don’t want her hearing about this from anyone else.’
Mrs Digby nodded. ‘I’ll be here,’ was all she said.
Chapter 22.
No news is good news
WHEN RUBY TRAILED OUT OF TWINFORD JUNIOR HIGH, Hitch was waiting there to meet her. She spotted him across the schoolyard, standing by the car, and quickly called goodbye to Red as she hurried towards him.
‘So something happening at Spectrum? We gotta get somewhere? ’Cause you know I was hoping to see Del later. I said I’d play her at table tennis to make up for swim practice, promised I’d destroy her, but I guess that ain’t gonna be on the cards. Boy, was she ever mad at me, didn’t believe the whole thing about the bump on my head, said I was gonna have to…’