Jane Blonde: Sensational Spylet Page 7
Janey paused. ‘Well, I suppose I shouldn’t just have taken them without you being here. I’m sorry too. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll feel better after a Wower.’
‘So, did you find out anything new while you were spuddling around in the trees?’ asked G-Mamma hopefully.
‘I know it doesn’t look like much, Janey,’ said
‘Well, you were right about those presents from Uncle Sol being SPI-buys.’ Janey explained how she had discovered the invisible ink and the message her uncle had scrawled on the frog picture.
‘I know it doesn’t look like much, Janey,’ said G-Mamma, ‘but there’s got to be more to this scribble than meets the eye. Solomon would never need to tell his secretary what to do. What could it really mean?’
Janey shrugged. ‘I’m still thinking . . .’
‘Hmm.’ G-Mamma tapped her teeth.
‘Maybe . . . Aaargh—’ Janey’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a wild furred beast leaped up on to the counter, glowering at her with hypnotic green eyes and flashing a fine set of fangs. Instinctively, Janey shoved G-Mamma behind her and stretched out her arms to protect herself and her SPI:KE.
‘Get back!’ she managed to hiss.
The feline face – some kind of chubby little lynx or mini-mountain lion – stared back at her. Then a pink tongue darted from between its lips and licked the end of its nose anxiously. It was actually quite cute.
‘At ease, Blonde. It’s just the kitty.’
Janey shook her head. ‘He looks so much bigger now. His legs are thicker than mine!’
‘Well, there’s only one cat round here. Your uncle’s. His name is Trouble.’
Trouble began casually cleaning behind his ears, apparently unaware that the attention was on him.
‘He’s definitely a very unusual cat,’ said G-Mamma, tickling him under the chin. ‘Hates mice, loves water. Don’t you, Twubbly-wubbly?’
Janey smiled. G-Mamma and Trouble were practically rubbing noses, cooing ecstatically at each other. Janey had always wanted a pet, but her mum said it wouldn’t be fair as they were both out all day. Which reminded her – her mum would be wondering where she was. But she and G-Mamma had work to do. The writing on the frog picture was their only lead and they had to make some sense of it. So, with Trouble between them, Janey and G-Mamma sat at the bench and thought. And thought. Janey repeated what she had read over and over again. ‘Hi Brenda, cld you put this in ENVELOPE & send to Janey? Thx, Sol.’
Seconds later, the grey mist shrouding her brain cleared. ‘ENVELOPE!’ she yelled. ‘With a capital E-N-VE-L-O-P-E. I think it’s the envelope that’s important!’
‘What?’ G-Mamma looked on in bewilderment as Janey threw herself back through the fireplace and headed for her bed. Moments later she reappeared, clutching the gooey envelope in which the frog picture had been sent.
‘I hid it under my mattress before my mum could chuck it out. I thought it was just the picture that mattered – and I still think the frog has to mean something – but maybe the envelope is what the message is about.’
‘Whoo!’ yelled G-Mamma. Trouble miaowed loudly. ‘You could be on to it, Blonde-girl! But did you blow your nose on it or something? Why’s it all slimy?’
Janey pulled a face, turning the envelope over and over in her hands as she looked for clues. The pale slime appeared to be turning purple. ‘It came out of the school bin like that. There’s all sorts of disgusting gloopy stuff in there.’
‘Well, never mind that,’ said G-Mamma, hopping around and making the floorboards creak alarmingly. ‘What does it say?
But they could see nothing. They drenched it in invisible-ink antidote, but there were no new hidden messages. Scanning it through G-Mamma’s computer system told them nothing either.
‘I don’t know, G-Mamma,’ said Janey, bitterly disappointed. ‘Maybe it is just a plain old envelope. A boring envelope with a scribbled address. Some stamps. It’s rubbish.’
But as she spoke, an image sprang into her mind like a movie scene and the very words she had said to the postman sprang to her lips: ‘I haven’t got a five-pence piece, but I can give you ten.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said G-Mamma.
Hands shaking slightly, Janey turned the envelope over. The Queen’s face stared back at her, sombre and proud. ‘This is it! The stamps. There’s writing between the stamps! A number four and two quarter signs. I noticed it before and I thought it meant I owed the postman more money, but it doesn’t. It’s a message from Uncle Sol!’
‘But what in the name of Blonde does it say?’ G-Mamma snatched the envelope, scanning it furiously. ‘Oh, silly Sol! I know we’re all SPIs, but sometimes his clues are too cryptic even for me!’
‘But not for me.’ Janey felt like whooping with delight as she grabbed the envelope back. ‘I knew it! He’s trained me, G-Mamma. Years ago he sent me a book of puzzles and dingbats, to get me started. And I’ve been hooked on them ever since. Now I have to work it out. Don’t you see? It’s a dingbat!’
G-Mamma raised an eyebrow. ‘I think maybe you’re the dingbat.’
‘No, I’m not – I’m brilliant! I’ve got it! G-Mamma, I have got it!’
Janey pointed to the stamps. ‘Two stamps with numbers between them. What are the stamps?’
‘Sticky?’ suggested G-Mamma. ‘Square?’
‘The Queen’s head. Each one is the Queen’s head. Then there are the scribbled numbers. Queen’s head – four – Queen’s head – two quarters. Head – four – head – quarters.’
G-Mamma went green. ‘Oh my life, he’s telling us they’re going to kill him! Hung, drawn and quartered – is that what it means?’
‘No, birdbrain!’ Janey shook the envelope, delighted. ‘You don’t get it! He’s telling me what to do. Head for headquarters. And the Sol’s Lols logo is printed right here. Look, Uncle Sol’s smiley face! He must mean the Sol’s Lols headquarters!’
‘Blonde!’ yelled G-Mamma, almost swooning with excitement. ‘You are so right! You’ve got it! Head for Sol’s Lols headquarters! But when?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Janey, a little deflated.
‘Right. Let me see that.’ G-Mamma wrenched the envelope from Janey, and nodded. ‘Birdbrain, huh? Look at the postmark.’
‘The postmark?’
G-Mamma nodded smugly. ‘It’s a false postmark. Look, normally the date and time would be when the letter is sorted at the post office. Well, that must have been over a week ago. And this is dated later than that. Look, 23/4, 11 p.m. No one would send a letter at 11 p.m. That must be when you’re meant to be there.’
‘But . . . isn’t tomorrow the twenty-third?’ gulped Janey.
‘Yes! Yeehah!’ G-Mamma leaped to her feet.
‘We worked it out, uh huh, uh huh,
There is no doubt, uh huh, uh huh.
And so tomorrow, Blonde-girl, Blonde-girl,
You’re on your way, uh huh, uh huh!’
After G-Mamma had given her a high-five that nearly knocked Janey over, they arranged to meet tomorrow to go over their plan for the trip to Sol’s Lols HQ. Back in her room, Janey lay on the bed and swelled with pride and excitement. She and her SPI:KE had deciphered part of Uncle Solomon’s message – and tomorrow she was going to meet him for the first time. Would she work out what the frog picture meant before she saw him? Would he send her on another mission? Would he want her to do something dangerous? There was just one thing Janey was sure of: her dad’s brother trusted her. And she wasn’t going to let him down.
satispying
To Janey’s great relief, the next day at school passed without event. Tonight’s mission to Sol’s Lols HQ was weighing heavily on her mind and she kept imagining the moment she would meet her chubby-cheeked, smiley uncle. As soon as she got home Janey threw herself on the sofa and tried to relax before she had to start her homework. She might be a Spylet, but that didn’t mean her maths project wasn’t due on Monday.
A couple of hours later, as she sat pu
zzling over her books at the kitchen table, her mother called to her from the next room, where she was watching TV.
‘Janey, look. It’s that hunky vet, and he’s looking at animals that can survive extreme conditions.’
‘I’m doing my homework, Mum. I’ll come and watch it in a minute.’
‘I think you should look now if you want to know what Uncle Solomon sent you. Isn’t that your funny frog?’
Janey raced into the sitting room. Sure enough, the TV presenter was holding a frog in his hand that was identical to the one in the picture Uncle Solomon had sent her. According to the vet, it was a North American wood frog.
‘This is an amazing little creature,’ he said. ‘It may look dull, brown and boring . . .’
‘Just like me!’ thought Janey.
‘. . . but in reality it’s anything but. You’d never think it, but let me tell you that this little frog is as heavy as a brass paperweight.
‘And that’s because it’s frozen solid.
‘And, incredibly, it’s still alive.
‘Awesome!’
‘Well, glory be!’ G-Mamma tightened her satin dressing gown and moved closer to the computer screen. ‘Isn’t nature incredible? It says here that the little frog survives the winter by going into such deep hibernation that its breathing and heartbeat stop, and almost two-thirds of its body is crystallized into ice! It turns into a Popsicle!’
Janey hopped from one foot to the other. With no slippers on she was cold already, and the mention of ice had sent a chill right up her spine. ‘I know it’s meant to be a cover, but do you think Sol’s Lols might be selling frog lollies or something?’
‘Euw! I wouldn’t have thought so, Blondey. And why the Sinerlesse Group would want that particular secret, I’m not sure.’
‘Well, it must mean something! Otherwise, why send it? He could have just sent the envelope.’
Drumming her fingers on the worktop, G-Mamma screwed up her face in deep thought. Either that or she had wind, thought Janey.
‘It’s a good point, girly-girl. Why would he send you this? Something to do with frogs . . . well, amphibious vehicles are pretty old hat these days, and we could get you to breathe under water easily enough. So there’s nothing new there. I guess you’re going to have to ask him yourself tonight.’
Janey nodded. ‘Mum thinks I’m all tucked up in bed, so I’m ready to go.’
‘Well, no time like the present! But you can’t go on your first mission as Janey Brown now, can you? Out of your fluffy little jim-jams . . . and into the Wower with you!’
Inside the cubicle, glitter spiralled around her, the robotic fingers twirled in her hair and soothing balm tickled her battered skin. She felt the SPI-suit mould to her skin and stepped out of the Wower with a flutter of excitement and another, more unusual, feeling. Was it . . . power? She wasn’t sure, but as Janey closed the Wower door she definitely felt a nugget of some new emotion sitting deep in her chest. It was the size of a walnut, warm and electrified. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and smiled.
‘I really am Jane Blonde,’ she said quietly.
She turned to the pile of stuff that was appearing on the countertop as G-Mamma shimmied from cupboard to cupboard and screen to screen.
‘What’s all this lot?’ Janey asked.
G-Mamma ticked off each item. ‘Well look, I know he’s asked you to meet him, but someone else might turn up too. You never know. It’s not like HQ is the most secret of locations, so better be safe than very, very sorry.’ She drew a glittering blue fingernail across her throat in a menacing gesture. ‘You’re going to have to be well prepared. First of all, I’m setting up the Satispy to get you up to Sol’s Lols in bonny Scotland. It’s still a teensy bit experimental, but I know Sol would approve if it enables you to make your appointment in time. At least I hope he would! . . . There we go. The footprint should take you near enough to the edge of the grounds.’
Janey tried to see what her SPI:KE was peering at on the computer, but the view was blocked by rippling flesh, set a-quiver by the frenzied tapping of G-Mamma’s fingers on the keyboard.
‘Hmm. What’s that? Oh yes, I see. There’s a moat. In case the Satispy doesn’t get you close enough or I’ve got the footprint wrong, you’d better take a Back-boat. Just goes on your back like a rucksack and inflates when it hits water. Don’t worry, it’s got a motor so you won’t have to do any rowing.’ As she spoke she strapped the pack on to Janey’s shoulders. It was almost weightless.
G-Mamma then dangled a white leather glove in front of Janey’s eyes. ‘Girl-gauntlet – fabby SPI-buy, this one, Blonde. Now, remember this: pen in the index finger; camera in the middle finger; laser in the ring finger; stungas in the little finger.’
Janey nodded, wriggling the Girl-gauntlet over her fingers as she pointed towards the remaining items on the pile. ‘What about those?’
‘Hat. Scarf. Handkerchief. It gets mighty-bitey cold in Scotland.’ And she rammed the woolly hat over Janey’s platinum ponytail before hustling her down the spiral staircase and out of the back door.
Looking out into the shadowy garden, Janey’s stomach cramped with fear. ‘What’s a Satispy anyway? And what’s the footprint? How am I going to get to Scotland and back in time for school?’
‘The Satispy is super-speedy, I promise you. Marvellous things, satellites. How else do you think you get all your TV pictures so quickly? And news from the moon and all that stuff? The Satispy just zaps you up into space and splats you back down again in the grounds of Sol’s Lols, right at the edge of the footprint – which is basically your landing point. I enter the coordinates for the footprint from here.’
‘So you’re going to send me up to a satellite and put me back down again somewhere else!’ squeaked Janey, realization seeping coldly into her brain. ‘You can’t mean it! That’s insane! It will . . . I’m just not ready for this!’
G-Mamma reached grimly for the object in her dressing-gown pocket – a remote control. ‘No one ever feels ready for this, Blonde. But think about it – do you feel ready to lose your uncle and maybe even your mum? You’ve got to face up to it: Solomon wouldn’t have gone underground if he wasn’t hiding something big. Something the Sinerlesse Group can never know. And he wouldn’t have sent for you unless he needed you. You have a job to do. Go to it, Jane Blonde.’
For a moment the world stood still. Janey looked longingly across the fence at her own house. G-Mamma was right. She couldn’t stand by and let the Sinerlesse Group get hold of Uncle Sol’s secret. Whatever it was. And Uncle Solomon had trusted her to help him. He needed Jane Blonde. Feeling a little current of strength run through her, Janey nodded to G-Mamma and braced herself for what was to come.
Pointing the Satispy’s remote control towards the moon, G-Mamma lifted her thumb and pressed down on the large central button. Nothing happened. Almost giggling with light-headed relief, Janey opened her mouth to joke about yet another of G-Mamma’s equipment failures. And her jaw fell off.
Janey felt it split away from her cheek with a pins-and-needles sensation, which spread this way and that until her whole body was vibrating. Terror engulfed her, but it was tinged with a strange fascination as her ears floated round in front of her eyes, and her arms separated from her shoulders and drifted down towards her feet. As her body disintegrated, she saw G-Mamma’s face, full of sympathy.
‘Sorry, babe,’ she heard her say. ‘It was so much neater with analogue! All these weird digital packets. Good job it’s only for secret SPI work. Imagine having to watch your relatives zip home like this after Sunday lunch. Yuck!’ And then she was gone.
Janey rocketed skywards in what felt like a mile-long stream of cells. She was sure she was still all linked together somehow, as she could feel the sensation of every toe and finger. Somehow her senses were still working. She could hear the whistle of wind as she sliced, piece-by-piece, through the atmosphere. And she could still see. In fact, with her eyeballs floating separately around h
er as though she were juggling a couple of boiled eggs, Janey found she could spot stars and meteors hovering above her while at the same time she could look down at the ground she had left behind. Within seconds, gardens were as small as pinpricks, then the whole country was like a jigsaw piece. Then before she could catch her breath there was the Earth, blue, green and white, beneath her.
‘Blimey!’ she was about to say, when suddenly there was a burst of light from above, so intense that Janey cried out, although her voice could not push its way out of her jiggling body parts. She had reached the Satispy satellite, now looming over her like an enormous wok.
Please don’t fry my eyeballs! she thought, as an enormous spasm of energy seared through her.
Instantly, the process went into reverse: eyes streaming, Janey watched in stupefied amazement as her arms snaked back up to hang from her shoulders and her nose fixed itself to her face again. The pressure beneath her feet was incredible, unbearable and seemingly endless. Down, down she hurtled, blue vapour gathering around her as she re-entered the earth’s atmosphere.
When Janey suddenly walloped against hard earth with an ankle-cracking smack, she felt like kissing the ground. The whole journey had taken only minutes.
After a quick check that every little part of her was still working, Janey sat back on her heels and looked into the Ultra-gogs. A tiny map had appeared, and on it a red light flashed over the words ‘Sol’s Lols’.
Breathing as deeply as she dared, Janey took in her surroundings, using the Ultra-gogs’ night vision to assess her location. Ahead of her she could see level concrete, which appeared to be a large car park. At the far side of the concreted areas, water glimmered – that had to be the moat that G-Mamma had mentioned. On an island in the middle of the water was a massive building, which appeared to be made entirely of orange glass. The building sat up in the air, wrapped around a huge pole-like structure. Janey spotted the Sol’s Lols logo – the smiling face of Uncle Solomon – plastered on to the side of the building.
‘It’s shaped like a lollipop! The whole building is a great big ice lolly!’