Page 8 of Blink and You Die

‘Um,’ said Ruby, ‘is there a three?’

  ‘Layer three you might as well dream about because there’s not a chance you’d make it into that.’ As he said ‘three’ he gripped the steel pen and turned it round and round in his hand.

  ‘Careful with that,’ said Ruby. ‘You don’t want to strangle yourself with that little necklace of yours.’

  He suddenly looked awkward, self-conscious even, and he barked at her, saying, ‘All file layers are code-protected. I set them myself … think about it, little girl.’

  ‘Oh, believe me I am,’ said Ruby. ‘So you say breath-holding’s involved; is this vault underwater or something?’

  Froghorn’s mouth snapped shut. He had said too much. He began fiddling with his stupid neck pen, nervously wrapping his tie round and round as he tried to backtrack. ‘Dream on, you’ll never lay eyes on the Ghost Files, let alone read them.’ He was confident about that, Ruby could see it: the look on his face said the Prism Vault is nowhere you’ll ever go.

  ‘You sound very certain,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I am,’ said Froghorn. ‘I spent a lot of time coding those files and I did an excellent job.’

  ‘I’m sure you did your best, Froghorn, but remember what they say: pride comes before a fall, or wait a minute, is it once a potato head always a potato head? I can never remember.’

  AS RUBY WAS EXITING FROGHORN’S OFFICE, an announcement sounded over the tannoy:

  RUBY REDFORT, REPORT TO RECEPTION.

  When she reached Buzz’s desk, she was told in a bored tone to report to the gadget room.

  When she got there, she found Hal standing next to a bicycle.

  ‘So here you go,’ said Hal, stepping aside. ‘I’ve been working on it for a while.’

  ‘For me?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘No one else in Spectrum rides a bike,’ said Hal.

  Ruby smiled. ‘Well, thanks.’

  ‘It’s got a few features you won’t be used to,’ said Hal. ‘The tyres are of course unpuncturable, and the frame super-reinforced, but it’s the bike’s ability to grip the road surface which is what makes it special.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘It’s very hard to fall off. As with a motorcycle, you can lean pretty low to the ground and so long as the wheels keep turning, the tyres grip the road and you stay on the bike.’

  ‘Well, that sounds cool,’ said Ruby.

  ‘It is,’ said Hal. ‘Spectrum gadgets are 99.999 per cent reliable and this bike is no exception.’

  ‘So what about speed?’

  ‘It has speed, that goes without saying,’ he said. ‘You just have to decide when you’re going to use it. It won’t be continuous, but you might get ten minutes of hyper-speed every forty.’

  ‘So what’s this?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘That’s a bell,’ said Hal.

  ‘And what does it actually do?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘It rings,’ said Hal. He demonstrated.

  ‘Oh,’ said Ruby.

  ‘That’s not one of its special features,’ said Hal.

  ‘I guess not,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Obviously we’ll give it a finish, make it some pretty colour.’

  ‘Green,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Pardon me?’ There was a deafening grinding sound coming from the workshop at the back. ‘That doesn’t sound good,’ said Hal. ‘I better go check out what’s happening in there. Look, we’ll have the bike sprayed and delivered,’ he said.

  When he was gone, Ruby found herself alone in the gadget room. Of course, she took the opportunity to have a look around. There was something very particular which she hoped she might find, something which would be invaluable to a person seeking to break into, say, a file room.

  As luck would have it, she spotted it almost immediately.

  THE MICRO-READER: Hold device five inches from document and press red button. Up to 1500 images can be stored. The device doubles as a projector: press the green button to view your images on a screen or any suitably smooth wall or pale surface.

  Checking first that Hal was still otherwise engaged, she pocketed the small object, no bigger really than a large pencil sharpener.

  She was just thinking of reaching into one of the other low glass drawers when she heard someone cough. She stood up quickly, which caused her to bump her head.

  Ouch.

  ‘Hey, Ruby,’ said Blacker, ‘are you OK? I didn’t mean to alarm you.’

  ‘Oh … no, you didn’t,’ she said. ‘I mean sort of, but hey, yes, I mean hello.’

  For a second she was afraid he’d seen what she’d done, but he smiled. ‘Nice to have you back, Ruby, though actually it’s my job to wave you bye-bye, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s to be no wandering the corridors unaccompanied, so Buzz sent me to escort you on your way out.’

  ‘You’re serious? You actually are kicking me out?’

  He shrugged and smiled again. ‘Not me – a Spectrum command from the top.’

  Ruby gave him a puzzled look.

  ‘LB,’ he explained.

  ‘OK,’ said Ruby. ‘I’ll go quietly.’

  Despite the fact that he was there to march her from the premises, Ruby was glad to see Agent Blacker: he was a reassuring presence, and there weren’t so many living creatures you could say that about these days.

  As she and Blacker walked to the exit, Ruby struck up a conversation about the Prism Vault.

  ‘Have you ever read the Ghost Files?’ asked Ruby.

  He stopped for a moment and looked at her. ‘Who told you about the Ghost Files?’ he asked.

  ‘Froghorn,’ said Ruby.

  Blacker frowned. ‘He’s getting blabby.’

  ‘What I’m wondering,’ continued Ruby, ‘is if Spectrum don’t want anyone to read these files, as in ever, then why not just erase them?’

  ‘I’m surprised Froghorn didn’t tell you,’ said Blacker. ‘Ghost Files can’t be erased; they are triple secured and locked so far down in the Prism Vault that you may need a password from God himself. But they cannot be deleted. Spectrum files are created that way.’

  ‘But they can be read?’

  ‘They can be read if you are authorised to read them and if you have code clearance to enter the Prism Vault. Of course, if you had code clearance they’d fly you there in the Spectrum helicopter.’

  Why does one need a helicopter to get there? wondered Ruby. ‘What if you don’t have code clearance?’ was what she asked.

  ‘Then you’d be needing flippers or some kind of submersible.’

  ‘It’s located in water?’ said Ruby.

  ‘It’s no secret that the vault’s in a watery location,’ said Blacker.

  ‘Would that be in a lake? Or in the sea?’ asked Ruby.

  Blacker cocked his head to one side and looked at her like he was trying to gauge where this conversation was going.

  ‘So how does one go about getting hold of a helicopter?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ said Blacker. He was laughing, but he wasn’t entirely sure she was joking.

  ‘Of course I’m kidding,’ said Ruby, flashing him the Ruby Redfort I’m just a kid smile. ‘Has anyone ever helicoptered you in there?’ she asked.

  ‘No, mam,’ said Blacker. ‘Don’t like helicopters. And there’s no way I’m putting a Superskin on, not unless I have to.’

  ‘They make you feel claustrophobic?’

  ‘No, they’re just a heck of a struggle to get in and out of.’

  ‘So what exactly is a Superskin?’

  He smiled again and shook his head. ‘If you’re lucky you’ll never need to know.’

  When Ruby stepped out of Spectrum headquarters it was into an entirely different landscape. No more grey – this one was bright white, the sidewalks already an inch deep in soft snow. She pulled her hood up, zipping the snow parka so her face was framed by its fur. She looked towards the sky, mouth open, and felt the snowflakes melt on her tongue. By the time she reach
ed home the snow was already an inch deeper.

  As she crunched up the path to her house she thought about what she had learned.

  It seemed she had two unknowns, two problems.

  The first: where was the Prism Vault?

  The second: how to get inside it?

  And what in tarnation was a Superskin?

  The things she did know were that water was involved and holding your breath seemed to have something to do with it. This second thing was not a reassuring prospect, for, just as Miles Froghorn had pointed out, Ruby had never been very good at holding her breath.

  RUBY WAS CATCHING UP on some of the homework her homeroom teacher, Mrs Drisco, had thoughtfully sent over while she was at camp. If Mrs Drisco’s intention was to overwhelm Ruby with school work then she was to be disappointed. Ruby had worked her way through about a quarter of it and she hadn’t yet finished breakfast. If she continued at this rate, she should have the rest finished up by the middle of the week, easy.

  Hitch offered to drive her into school, but she said she could just as well take the bus.

  ‘By the way, what was that all about, sending me in to talk to Froghorn and then not showing up?’

  ‘Sorry kid, I had a plan to bring about world peace starting with you two, but I got into an argument with Agent Lunberg and time got away from me.’

  ‘So much for world peace,’ said Ruby.

  ‘It’s a harder prospect than you might imagine,’ he said. ‘Have a good day and give Mrs Drisco a run for her money,’ he said as he walked out of the room.

  ‘You can count on it!’ called Ruby.

  She glugged down her juice and stared at the cereal box in front of her. There were some brainteaser puzzles printed on the back and as she figured them out (which took her under a minute) so she thought back to that day when she had found the code on the back of the Choco Puffles packet. At first glance it had appeared to be just some competition aimed at little kids, but if you knew more than a lot about coding and code-breaking you could see what it really was. Ruby had been just four when she’d noticed it. She’d filled in the form, addressed and stamped the envelope and passed it to her father to mail, but he had forgotten and that was that. Now sitting here, some nine years later, she wondered if perhaps this code might have been set by Spectrum recruiters – it wasn’t impossible, she thought. Her route to this underground agency had been by invitation – a phone call from the boss. Not a straightforward ‘would you like a career in code-breaking’ phone call, but then nothing about Spectrum was ever straightforward.

  Ruby was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the back door open.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you there’d likely be snow?’ said Mrs Digby as she stamped her boots on the step. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised these so-called weather fellas missed it. They don’t know how to read a sky the way my old pa taught me.’ She unwound her scarf. ‘It won’t settle though.’

  ‘It won’t?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Mark my words, it will be gone before noon.’

  Ruby looked out at the yard with its pristine white blanket. It was impossible to make out the path or the lawn or the patio.

  ‘Looks like it’s settled,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Wrong sort of snow,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘It can’t last. I’m telling you, by the time the school bell strikes twelve it will have all but disappeared.’

  ‘The school bell doesn’t strike, it kinda clangs,’ said Ruby.

  The first thing Del said when Ruby climbed aboard the school bus was, ‘You know you missed Thanksgiving.’

  ‘I didn’t miss Thanksgiving,’ said Ruby. ‘I had Thanksgiving, just not with anyone I felt very thankful to be with.’

  ‘Why didn’t your mom and dad come visit?’ asked Mouse.

  ‘They were in Paris,’ said Ruby. ‘Not that I was allowed any visitors anyway.’

  ‘So who did you spend Thanksgiving with?’

  ‘A few of the mathletics guys.’

  ‘Sounds super dull,’ said Del.

  ‘Yes and no,’ said Ruby.

  Del gave her the Del Lasco look of you must truly have lost your brain. ‘You’re actually saying you enjoyed hanging out with those geeks?’

  ‘Not all geeks are boring,’ said Mouse, reasonably. ‘I mean if you define a geek as someone who’s good at school stuff and knows all about movies and comics then Ruby’s a geek right? No offence, Rube.’

  ‘None taken, but actually this is not the point,’ said Ruby.

  ‘What is?’ said Del.

  ‘I’m saying, if you go into something looking for boredom then more than likely you’re gonna be bored; it’s about attitude.’

  ‘So I’ve got a bad attitude – is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘No, not bad, just you’re going into it all wrong. I’m arguing that there’s no need to be bored, ever, not if you’ve got inner resources, an upbeat way of looking at things.’

  Del wasn’t buying it and probably never would. Del was like that, once she’d decided something, it could be near-impossible to get her round to your way of thinking, and it was usually a thankless task to try.

  RULE 42: DON’T WASTE TIME ARGUING WITH SOMEONE WHO WON’T IN A MILLION YEARS CHANGE HIS OR HER MIND.

  Though that said, there was always RULE 45: NEVER STOP CHALLENGING SMALL-MINDEDNESS.

  Del Lasco was almost back to being her old self except for one thing: she had learned a lesson about evidence and how sure one should be of it before accusing a loyal ally and close friend.

  Who to trust when the chips were down?

  For Del Lasco now that was a no-brainer. As far as Del was concerned, Ruby Redfort was the only person you could one hundred per cent count on, no questions asked – beyond that, how to know?

  When they arrived at school and Ruby walked into her form room, Mrs Drisco did not look especially happy to see her.

  Ruby Redfort and Mrs Drisco were never going to see eye to eye on anything. Mrs Drisco did not like Ruby’s smart-mouthed attitude and Ruby was not a fan of Mrs Drisco’s pettiness.

  ‘Just because you have been away at “camp”,’ began Mrs Drisco, ‘does not mean I won’t expect your school work to be in on time.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you wouldn’t,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Good,’ said Mrs Drisco, ‘so I will expect it before the end of term.’

  ‘If you want to, you can expect it by Wednesday,’ said Ruby.

  The promise of getting Ruby’s homework three weeks early did not, as one might logically expect, make Mrs Drisco happy. In fact, it had precisely the opposite effect. She felt undermined by Ruby’s ability to actually succeed in the task set.

  The task was meant to be impossible, and here was Ruby once again challenging her authority by succeeding.

  ‘Well,’ said Mrs Drisco, ‘it sounds like maybe you need stretching.’

  ‘Sounds painful,’ said Ruby.

  Mrs Drisco’s eyes narrowed. ‘I will sign you up for the school Christmas show. I’m sure we would all adore to have you entertain us.’

  The school Christmas show was Ruby’s idea of extreme humiliation. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself by stepping up on that stage and tap-dancing or performing some lame magic trick. But her reply was restrained.

  ‘Mrs Drisco, I would like nothing better than to be a performing monkey, but I’m afraid my optometrist simply won’t allow it.’

  ‘Really?’ said her teacher. ‘And why would that be?’

  ‘I have this condition,’ explained Ruby. ‘I’m sure you understand.’

  ‘And I’m sure you’ll understand that without a note explaining your condition it will be impossible for me to take your word for it.’ Mrs Drisco flashed a tight smile.

  ‘He thought you might say that,’ said Ruby, rummaging in her satchel, ‘which is why I took the precaution of bringing this with me.’ She handed a piece of white letter-headed paper to Mrs Drisco, who reluctantly took it.

  Mrs Drisco had never heard
of ophthalmic joggle and she felt she’d been in the teaching profession long enough to have heard pretty much every classroom excuse and medical condition. There was something about the name of this optometrist that made her uneasy but she could not put her finger on what it was. So Mrs Drisco gave another tight smile and said, ‘fine,’ in a tone which suggested things were not fine.

  En route to class, Mouse and Ruby passed Vapona Begwell coming the other way. Mouse was surprised when Vapona and Ruby did not exchange their usual insults of bozo and dork-squirt, but instead sort of nodded at each other. It was the nod of mutual respect – grudging, but respect nonetheless.

  Mouse looked at her friend. ‘How did you two end up so close?’

  ‘We came to an understanding,’ said Ruby, without elaborating further.

  Only Clancy knew the whole story. It all had to do with Ruby keeping her mouth shut when it really counted, and Vapona repaying the favour by stepping in on Ruby’s behalf and holding the baby, quite literally as it happened. It did not make these old enemies friends, but for now at least they were not looking to trip each other up – a truce of sorts.

  At recess Del was looking pretty excited.

  ‘Are you coming snurfing?’fn1 she asked.

  ‘You mean strap a wooden board to my feet and head on down a snow-covered mountain? You have to be kidding,’ said Clancy.

  ‘You skateboard,’ argued Del. ‘What’s the big difference?’

  ‘What, are you nuts?’ said Clancy. ‘Skateboarding takes place on a sidewalk. Snurfing is about throwing yourself down a perilous incline, feet tied to a plank of wood, no sticks, no nothing.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Del. ‘But I tell you, this is gonna become a thing.’

  ‘It is a thing,’ said Clancy.

  ‘Yeah, but I’m telling you it’s gonna become a big thing,’ said Del.

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ agreed Clancy. ‘There’s no end to what dumb things people will decide to do, but it doesn’t mean I wanna join in.’

  ‘Your sister Minny’s got a snurferboard,’ said Del.

  ‘A perfect example to illustrate my point,’ said Clancy. ‘Just because Minny is willing to throw herself from a cliff with some plank tied to her shoes, doesn’t make it a good idea. Most things Minny recommends are not great ideas and should on the whole be avoided.’