Ruby Redfort 1 - Look Into My Eyes (10 page)

“How come we’re not going down through that old drain?” she said.

Hitch smiled. “There’s a saying at Spectrum: ‘If you want to lead the enemy straight to your door, just keep using the same one.’ That’s why there are many ways to enter Spectrum. We are always sealing one up and opening another. We have to. We can’t risk anyone finding our true location.”

“But how do they construct all of this?” said Ruby, peering into the gloomy passageway. “All these passages and corridors? And how do they link up? I don’t get it.”

“And nor should you, kid,” replied Hitch with a wink.

Hitch and Ruby were greeted by a dowdily dressed woman who introduced herself simply as Buzz. She was the least buzzy person Ruby had ever seen.

“Buzz?” repeated Ruby.

“It’s a nickname,” said Buzz, by way of explanation. It was clear she wasn’t the chatty type. The reception area was light and glossy, spacious in a way that made you wonder where they got all the space
from.

“Give us a minute, will you, kid?” said Hitch.

Ruby wandered across the hall-like room, her eyes darting from object to object, her brain trying to make sense of the place. Buzz and Hitch were talking way over on the other side of the room. Ruby could make out every other sentence, or just about — most of it was pretty dull but one thing she heard intrigued her.

“How do you think she measures up to you know who?”

“Bradley Baker? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Well, if she even comes close I’ll be amazed.”

“Perhaps she’ll surprise us all.”

Ruby had no idea what they were talking about. Bradley Baker? Who was he and why did she have to measure up to him?

“Ready, kid?” called Hitch.

She stopped pretending not to listen and walked over to where they were standing. “What now?”

“You need to be security cleared and then you can take the ninety-nine-second test.”

“What’s the ninety-nine-second test?” asked Ruby. “And why do I need to take it? I thought I already passed.”

“Kid, everyone who walks through the Spectrum door has to take the agency test — it’s protocol.”

Before Ruby could argue further, they were interrupted by a middle-aged man with wild-looking hair and a slightly stupid grin.

“Come on, Ms. Redfort, time for your close-up,” he said. “Just got to get all your security details: a nice mug shot, a couple of paw prints, footprints, height, weight, hair color, eye color, teeth color, nail color, you name it, I need it.”

A comedian,
thought Ruby, but it turned out he wasn’t joking.

After all the checks had been made and every hair on Ruby’s head had been counted — at least that’s what it felt like — there was some time to kill before she had to take the Spectrum test.

“Buzz, give the kid a little tour of the gadget room,” said Hitch. “That’ll keep her out of trouble.”

He was wrong about that.

Buzz matter-of-factly acted as tour guide, pointing out this and that as they walked. Corridors peeled off in every direction and staircases wound up through various rooms. It wasn’t like any spy agency Ruby had seen on TV — it was
much
more interesting. For a start, with the exception of LB’s office, everything was in color. Ruby had imagined the whole of HQ would be black, white, and chrome — that was how a spy agency was meant to look. But this was unexpected — each department was painted in shades of a different color; corridors gradually melted from blue to indigo to violet.

“Oh, I get it,” said Ruby. “That’s why you guys call this place Spectrum — it’s the colors, right?”

“Uh-huh,” said Buzz, nodding.

When they got to the gadget room, Ruby’s pulse started to race. Ever since she was tiny she had always dreamed of having special powers. What had attracted her to the
Agent Deliberately Dangerous
graphic novels were the gadgets. There was always a gadget which Agent Deliberately would pull out in the nick of time — thus saving his life and often the lives of many others.

Buzz pointed out a small, silver object.

THE BREATHING BUCKLE.

To be used underwater. Slip buckle off belt, place between teeth, and breathe comfortably for twenty-seven minutes, two seconds.

WARNING! NO RESERVE AIR CANISTER.

GETAWAY SHOES.

Depress green button on base of left shoe to convert to “roller shoes.”

Big deal,
thought Ruby,
a kid at my school has those.
But then she read on.

Depress red button on base of right shoe to activate power jets. Maximum speed ninety-one miles per hour for a distance of approximately seven miles.

WARNING! CAN CAUSE FEET TO OVERHEAT. AVOID USE ON RUGGED TERRAIN.

Kinda small, aren’t they?
mused Ruby.
Must be for some woman with feet like a kid.

She moved to the next cabinet: displayed inside was an elegant, cropped cape-jacket. It was white with a fur-edged hood, and had one large, shiny glass button.

LADIES’ PARACHUTE CAPE.
Push button to activate chute.
WARNING! TO AVOID EARACHE, ENSURE HOOD IS UP BEFORE EMBARKING ON AIRBORNE DESCENT.

“We don’t use that anymore,” said Buzz, glancing over her shoulder. “None of our female agents will be seen dead in it. Apparently it’s out of style.”

Ruby didn’t agree at all. What did Buzz know about fashion anyway? The woman looked like a walking mushroom. As far as Ruby was concerned, this was one cool-looking cape.

Buzz moved on, pointing out various tiny lifesaving survival gadgets and deadly lifesaving weapons — all disguised as ballpoint pens, brooches, miniature radios, hats, umbrellas, sunglasses, car keys, and a thousand other things.

However, what really caught Ruby’s eye was the watch. It was in a glass drawer contained in a special cabinet with a notice that said,
for display only — do not remove.
The watch face had cartoon eyes, and the eyes followed the hands. The second hand had a fly at the end of it that ticked steadily around the dial.
That fly again
. For a split second it triggered something in her memory. Autumn leaves whirled through her mind and a strange dark feeling lurked but she couldn’t grasp hold of it. And then just like that it was gone.

The watch strap was brightly striped and fastened with an interesting clasp and the face was colored enamel with chrome surround. It was desirable simply because of the way it looked, but of course there was more to the watch than its appealing appearance. The label said,
THE FLY, ESCAPE WATCH
and in red letters underneath, it said,
STRICTLY DO NOT TOUCH.

But how could Ruby resist? While Buzz was on the far side of the room, busy reading out the specifications of some much less interesting gadget, Ruby slipped the watch off its stand and popped it on to her wrist — it was a perfect fit.

She pressed the winder and out shot a titanium cable, barely visible to the naked eye — it had a hook on the end and was clearly designed as a sort of climbing device. Ruby could see that by twisting the dial you could make the cable longer or shorter depending on how much you needed. What she couldn’t immediately see was a way of unhooking the hook and retracting the cable — which was unfortunate because seconds later the door opened and Ruby heard the sound of softly padding feet.
Bare
feet.

LB.

Ruby stood very still and smiled a big smile. She hoped LB wouldn’t notice what had happened, and she hoped that if she did then the smile might go some way to softening LB’s reaction.

This, it turned out, was a wrong assumption.

“Redfort, if you must grin like an idiot, please don’t direct it at me,” drawled LB. She clearly hadn’t noticed Ruby’s predicament, and launched into a conversation with Buzz. Ruby wrestled with the cable — she finally managed to unhook it and even managed to find the retracting device just before Buzz signaled to her that it was time to take the exam. Unfortunately there was no chance to replace the watch back in its drawer.

Buzz was in a hurry. “Just push that drawer shut,” she said. “Once we leave the room everything locks automatically.”

Ruby knew if she was caught with the watch then her agent assignment would certainly be over. There was nothing else for it but to stuff it deep into her jacket pocket. Maybe there would be a chance to return it later — after she took the test.

No one need ever know.

THEY WERE MET IN THE CORRIDOR
by an uptight-looking man in a self-conscious sort of suit.

“Ruby . . . Redfort?” he said, reading from his clipboard as if there was a whole group of schoolchildren waiting to take a secret agency test.

Ruby looked around. “Well, I’m pretty sure she’s called Buzz,” she said, nodding at Buzz. “So I guess that would be me.”

The man sniffed. “Follow me, would you.” He was
very
uptight. He could only be about twenty-three and was dressed in a pathetically showy way. All hair product and bleached teeth but no style.

Ruby caught sight of his identification badge. “Miles Froghorn?”

“That’s Frohorn,” corrected the man. “The
G
is silent.”

He led her down a series of orange through yellow through ochre corridors. Ruby trailed her fingers on the shiny gloss paint and the man snapped his head around. “Please don’t touch.” Ruby opened her mouth to speak but the man held up his hand. “No questions please.”

Boy, is this guy a prize potato head.

They continued in silence until he stopped, opened a door of uncertain color — commonly described as sludge — and pointed to a desk in the middle of an empty room. He then placed a pile of papers on the table. “Here’s a pencil. You have one hour and one minute. You are required to give only
one
answer, any erasing, any changes of mind, will be seen as a
wrong
answer. If you have an urgent need to go to the bathroom, suppress it. Any questions? Good, I didn’t think so.”

“Yep, Mr. Froghorn, just one actually.” (She ignored the silent
G
thing.) “Have you ever considered moving into the hospitality industry because boy, I really think you might be wasting those great people skills.”

Froghorn looked at her, all beady eyes and defensive — like a cobra. Or was it a jackal?

“Do your test, little girl, fail it, and then I’m sure an adult will drive you home.
A few
people here might rate you, but you need to be aware that you are no Bradley Baker and you never will be.”

“Just who is this Bradley Baker?”

But Froghorn wasn’t about to explain. When he exited the room he slammed the door so hard the sound echoed down the corridor.

I must remember that silent
G, said Ruby to herself.

Ruby picked up her pencil and took a look at the papers in front of her. There were thirty-seven problems and one hour and one minute to solve them in. That meant just ninety-nine seconds on each one. She glanced at the clock and began reading.

(1) You have to take three criminals back to the County Jail: Alexei Asimov, Carlo Carlucci, and Walter Trunch. You have to cross a river on the way, and the boat only takes two people at a time. The trouble is that if you leave the criminals together, Asimov will kill Trunch, and Trunch will kill Carlucci. How can you get them safely across the river?

She smiled.
Geez, that was easy — just thirty-six to go
.

(2) You have seven gold bars. However, one of them is a counterfeit and weighs less than the others. You have a set of balance scales but you may only use them twice. How do you identify the counterfeit gold bar?

Boy, if all the questions were going to be this simple the time was really going to drag.