by Christie and Larry deSouza

Grampa Noel Waddlemeyer tiptoed down the stairs, silently gathering toys as he went. He had finally gotten his granddaughter Gosalyn to sleep after an exhausting night of baby-sitting. It was the first time Bill and Wendy had gone out together since her hatching, and he took advantage of their prolonged absence to introduce Gosalyn to all her father’s old favourite books, games and songs. He hadn’t had this much fun since Bill was a duckling.

Dumping his armload into the toy box, he flopped down on the couch and wearily viewed the rest of the clutter on the floor. How could one small girl require so much to keep her amused? He smiled as he picked up a posable Frankie Ferret figure with real-life hugging action. Extending Frankie’s arms, he began using them to pick up other small toys from the floor and make a pile on the table. Then he eyed the plastic power shovel and thought for a moment. Putting it on the table, he checked out its construction, and, satisfied it would work, emptied the three pens in his pocket of their springs and rigged up a make-shift catapult. By the time most of the little toys he had collected were back in the toy box, his aim had gotten quite good. Then he considered the larger stuffed animals, and eyed the jolly jumper in the doorframe with a boyish smile. His plans of a giant slingshot were put on hold when his son and daughter-in-law came through the front door.

"You’re back early!" he said, greeting them with hugs. "I thought you’d phone at least three more times before you finally broke down and came home."

"Wendy reminded me that if we did, we’d probably wake Gosalyn. But she couldn’t wait to see if everything was okay, so we decided to head back."

"I couldn’t wait...?"

"So, how’d it go, Dad?" he interrupted smoothly.

"We had a great time! She likes Squishy the Squirrel as much as you used to!"

Bill looked at his father accusingly. "Isn’t four months a little young for quantum physics, Dad?"

"It wasn’t for you, son!" he retorted with a smile. "You’re never too young to learn!"

"And judging from this living room," said Wendy, " you’re never too old to play. Right, Dad?"

Noel grinned impishly. "All work and no play..." He shrugged and began to help Wendy clear up the remaining stuffed animals.

"Have you got time for a coffee, Dad?" Wendy asked.

"I certainly hope you’re not planning on going back to the lab!" said Bill.

"Oh, no, I haven’t made any other plans for this evening," Noel said. "I’d love a coffee, thanks." He and his son sat down. "So, what movie did you see?"

"A View to a Quill," Bill said, then he smiled at his father’s expression. "And you can wipe that look off your face, Dad!" he laughed. "I know how you disapprove of those."

"Oh, I don’t disapprove of them, as long as you understand they’re pure fantasy!"

"I have to admit, once I found out you used to be a SHUSH agent, I’ve looked at them in a different light. At least now I know why you never wanted to go to them with me."

"Well, I’ve seen one or two of them, but they’ve been more comedy than adventure to me."

"So tell us another adventure! Maybe we need a lesson in fact after a couple hours of fiction."

"There you go calling it an adventure again. They were cases - assignments - they weren’t adventures!"

Wendy was just entering the room carrying three mugs. "Oh! Are you going to tell us another one of your adventures?" she asked happily. Noel just sighed. "I want to know about your first case with Bill’s mom!"

"That’s a great idea! Tell us about that!"

Noel took the coffee offered to him, thought for a moment, then sat comfortably back in his chair.

It all started when Gosalyn burst into my lab excited about her new mission. I was relatively new to SHUSH, but knew the history of the mission she was talking about through a briefing. I had been assigned to the next phase of the operation, and had to gather up some equipment for it. The mission involved a new crime ring named FOWL, which was supposed to stand for "Fiendish Organization for World Larceny" - an ambitious name, since there was no indication they were ‘world-wide’, let alone organized. Nonetheless, SHUSH agents had been sent to the FOWL base in North Duckota to scope them out. They had returned with a tale of suspicious shipments coming into the large building that we had established was their headquarters - scientific equipment, plastics, metals, all kinds of chemicals. FOWL was likely making a weapon, or some other invention to aid them in their nefarious plans, which is why SHUSH believed this secret operation was well worth investigating. Unfortunately, the agents sent to collect information met with rather grizzly ends.

"I can’t believe you’re excited about this, Gosalyn! Don’t you know what happened to the others?"

"Yeah, I know. I figure that makes it more challenging!" I looked at her and sighed. "Noel, be happy for me. This is my big break! I’ve never been on a mission like this before. I get to go undercover - deep into FOWL’s headquarters to recover vital information!" She pulled a chocolate bar from her pocket and tore the wrapper. "Just some quick energy and I’m off to work out."

"Gosalyn, you seem to be forgetting the seriousness of this mission."

"No I’m not! That’s why it’s such a great opportunity. This is the kind of mission they only send their top agents on. I’ll finally be able to show the SHUSH bigwigs my stuff!"

"Are you forgetting that they did send their top agents, and you know what happened to them. I’m surprised you’re able to eat that, considering Agent Alexander."

Gosalyn suddenly stopped chewing, a horrified expression on her face. "You don’t think this is him do you?"

"No, it was more like a pecan nut log. He was wrapped up and delivered to his family last week... heartbreaking." Gosalyn quietly put the remainder of her bar back into a pocket. "And Agents Kerwin and Quincy..."

"Were they able to get them out of those decorative barometer souvenirs before burying them?" she asked.

"I think so. It couldn’t have been easy, though. I was told Agents Featherby and Pintail have just disappeared. We haven’t heard anything from them in days. Gosalyn, you’ve got to realize that these FOWL people are not only deadly, they’re obviously not playing with a full deck."

"I know, I know. I realize it’s a risky mission. I’ll take care of myself."

"I hope so. I don’t want to see you coming back as a commemorative spoon set."

"We agree with you, Agent Waddlemeyer," came a voice from the doorway. The Director of SHUSH, Q.K. Webber, entered the room with a familiar well-dressed gander. "That’s why we plan to give her a partner."

"Good afternoon, Agent McQuillan, Agent Waddlemeyer," said J. Gander. "I’m looking forward to working with you again." J. Gander was dressed in his usual impeccable manner, without a wrinkle in his tie or a button out of place. He was a sharp contrast to Gosalyn’s casual posture and the red hair escaping from her hairpins.

"J. Gander! Uh... hi," said Gosalyn, a little uneasily. "Excuse me, Director Webber... um... no offense, but... uh... permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Why do I need a partner?"

The Director gave her a tight smile. "When the situation is this dangerous, SHUSH procedure dictates that no agent go in alone."

"But look at Agents Mambo and Charles - they went in together and they turned up in a wheat field wearing shirts that said ‘I went to North Duckota and all I got was killed’!"

"The rules haven’t changed, Agent McQuillan. You go in with a partner, or not at all."

"Are you objecting to me because of my service record?" J. Gander interjected.

"Of course not, it’s spotless!"

"For personal reasons, then?"
"No!"

"Well, then, that’s settled. Why don’t we see what Noel has for us."

"But..."

"Agent Waddlemeyer," said Director Webber, "since you have been assigned to this mission as well, it is your duty to equip them and follow up on any scientific information discovered by your partners."

"But..."

"I understand you’ve been working on a prototype for a special gun?"

"Yes! I hear it is revolutionary in its design," J. Gander said. "Capable of rendering a victim incapacitated without harming him."

"But..."

"I’ve been anxious to see this one field tested," said Director Webber.

"But..."

I looked over at Gosalyn. "I think you’d better give it up."

She shot me an icy stare.

"Agent McQuillan," Director Webber interjected. "Should I be finding another partner for J. Gander, or are you in?"

Gosalyn turned to the Director. "No, sir," she said without emotion. "I’m in." Her whole demeanour had changed so suddenly that it took me off guard. As I later got to know her, I learned that she was capable of switching gears like this without warning. "Show me the gun," she said in the same calm, professional tone.

I nodded and quickly went to get my new invention. Working for SHUSH meant that occasionally I would have to make new weapons, but I was never comfortable with creating anything deadly. Instead, I designed tools for defense, and was happy SHUSH was showing such an interest in my plans.

I often took this latest project home to tinker with, so I usually kept it in my briefcase. Pulling it out, I brought it over to the others. "This gun can shoot just about any medium-sized projectile - bigger than a bullet and smaller than, oh, say a grapefruit." I passed the gun over to J. Gander and began rummaging through a cupboard. "I’m designing special canisters for it with different contents," I said, pulling one out to show them. "This one is sleeping gas." I piled several more onto the countertop. Gosalyn picked one up and looked at it curiously. She held it to her ear and gave it a little shake.

"They’re not labeled - how do you tell them apart?" she asked, looking back and forth at the canisters.

"I just do," I said with a shrug. "If you look at them closely, each cartridge has quite a distinctive threading design on the screw edge."

Gosalyn squinted at the one in her hand, then rolled her eyes at me. "Yeah, real distinct."

"Can you demonstrate it for us?" asked Webber.

"Sure," I said, taking another cartridge. "This one’s for effect - I can’t see many practical uses for it on a mission." I fit it into the gun and fired it at the far wall. Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke erupted across the room.

"Well, it certainly is dramatic," said Webber. "What else can it shoot?"

"Just about anything that’ll fit in it. However, it is more practical to create canisters with contents specific to the mission."

Gosalyn took the gun from J. Gander and studied it, intrigued in spite of herself. "I bet this would make a great flame thrower with the right ingredients."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so... It really is only in the preliminary stages, though. I’m not sure if it’s ready to be field tested yet."

"Well, that’s okay," Gosalyn said, putting it aside. "But let me know when it is - I want to be the first to use it."

"Agents McQuillan and Hooter will be on an undercover fact-finding mission," said Webber. "We’re hoping they’ll also find Agents Featherby and Pintail alive and be able to rescue them. They’ll need the standard equipment."

"Right." I went to another storage area in my lab. "I’ve got a camera disguised as a pocket watch," I said, pulling it out. "J. Gander can have that - he usually carries one anyway."

"Smashing idea, Noel," J. Gander said, taking it from me.

"And here’s the updated lock pick," I said, handing it to Gosalyn. "You’ll be able to get in anywhere with that."

"I do suggest you both carry a gun, and wear a bullet-proof vest as well," said Webber solemnly.

I nodded, feeling a chill down my spine. Suddenly this was for real. We hadn’t had a chance to develop a close friendship yet, but it was at this point that I realized I really liked Gosalyn and J. Gander, and I wasn’t prepared to lose them so soon. It was no small effort to get the guns and vests from their locked cupboard and hand them to my friends. What I gave them was no more than the other agents had. If it wasn’t enough to save the others, how could it be enough this time?

"Wait a minute, Dad. I thought you said this was your first mission with Mom. It sounds like you didn’t go on it."

"I didn’t. I didn’t go on most of them. That just wasn’t my job. I wish I had - my understanding of what happened there is pretty sketchy."

"Couldn’t you have just asked Mom?"

Noel gave a wry laugh. "That would have been difficult. She didn’t come back from that mission."

"What?!" Bill and Wendy asked in unison.

I spent the next couple of days and nights worrying about whether or not I would see them again. On the night of the second day, J. Gander and his chopper pilot returned in a bullet-riddled helicopter. I ran out with others to greet them. A couple of engineers moved to help the pilot assess the damage. I was forced to stand aside with other onlookers while a SHUSH officer escorted J. Gander inside for debriefing. My heart sank as I realized that Gosalyn wasn’t coming out of the chopper. I could hear voices whispering around me, guessing at her fate. A moment later, another officer came up to me and asked me to join them in the debriefing room.

I hadn’t been in that room before, though in the following years I came to know it well. It was dark, wood-paneled, and very official-looking. There were portraits on the walls of all the presidents, beginning with the one responsible for the formation of SHUSH, Theodore Goosevelt. The flag stood in the north-east corner, and there was a map on the wall beside it. The table was oval and had a dark walnut finish. J. Gander sat at the middle of the table, the Director at the head, and various other agents around the rest of it. In a chair against the wall, I saw a bullet-proof jacket with signs of multiple hits, as well as several large pieces of paper, rolled up. I sat quietly in an empty chair, looking at J. Gander, who was as calm as ever, though obviously he was worried and very tired. Director Webber stood.

"Thank you for coming, Agent Waddlemeyer. Being a part of this team, you should know as much as possible about what happened. Agent Hooter feels we can make use of your talents once more."

"Thank you."

"When you’re ready, Agent Hooter."

J. Gander got to his feet and immediately began his report, narrating as if he had had hours to prepare. "As per our instructions, the chopper landed a safe distance away and Agent McQuillan and I proceeded on foot under cover of darkness, reaching the FOWL installation shortly after 00:00 hours, on schedule. We proceeded to infiltrate the main building, searching for both a sign of our missing agents, and evidence of their secret plans. On her own initiative, Agent McQuillan chose to disguise herself to enter a higher security area."

Director Webber interrupted. "What do you mean, ‘disguise herself’?"

"She took it upon herself to acquire a FOWL uniform."

"You mean she knocked out a guard?"

"Yes. Well, several guards, actually. Apparently she had some difficulty finding the right shoe size."

I covered my mouth to hide my smile. Director Webber simply humphed thoughtfully. "Please continue."

"In fact it was a stroke of luck that she did acquire a uniform, since the helmet provided a radio receiver through which she was able to hear communications within FOWL. I am sure it could have aided her in ascertaining any information regarding our missing agents. We split up at that point, intending to rendezvous at 01:00. I proceeded into the higher offices, succeeded in finding the FOWL labs, and, using my pocket watch, began photographing all of FOWL’s documents. There was also a set of blueprints for some kind of device which I picked up, feeling they would be of interest to SHUSH. Agent McQuillan was to search the lower levels where we surmised our missing agents would be held and possibly where the actual construction of FOWL’s nefarious devices was to be occurring.

"At the agreed-upon time I returned to the rendezvous point only to find that Agent McQuillan was not there. I am experienced with Agent McQuillan, and her reputation for getting results through less orthodox measures, so I decided to wait. After perhaps a quarter of an hour she returned, still in disguise, but looking somewhat disoriented. She reported that she had not been able to find any evidence of our missing agents or even find the holding cells, and we decided to proceed back to the helicopter before dawn."

Director Webber interrupted J. Gander’s report. "She had an hour and a quarter and she found nothing? That’s very unlike Agent McQuillan."

"Indeed," J. Gander replied. "She continued to behave at less than her normal efficiency, and I began to be concerned about her inability to concentrate. A number of times I was forced to repeat myself as she seemed to hesitate and stray from our path back to the chopper. She frequently would stop and stand amidst the brush staring blankly into space. I was resolved to return us SHUSH Central as soon as possible so that she might receive medical attention for whatever was affecting her. We were nearing the helicopter’s position when we ran into a spot of bad luck."

The bad luck J. Gander and Gosalyn ran into was an ambush. FOWL agents swarmed out of the brush around them and began to open fire. The pilot was frantically trying to start up the rotors while defending his position, and all the while, according to J. Gander’s account, Gosalyn was hesitant and falling behind, until...

"...she began shooting at me." Agent Hooter’s words fell into the stunned silence of the room.

"That can’t be possible!" I exclaimed - realizing how out of place I was to have spoken as all eyes turned on me.

"Nonetheless it is the truth," said J. Gander as calmly as ever. "However, I believe you are misinterpreting my statement. Remember, she was still in FOWL uniform. Whatever her infirmity, it had obviously placed us in a dangerous situation, and she signaled me to make a run for the helicopter. Then she turned and fired at me, knowing that my jacket would protect me from serious injury. However, to the other FOWL agents, she would simply appear as one of them. Circumstances being what they were, I felt it was the safest course for all concerned to leave her there for the time being. We remained in the area through the next day, staying at a distance, but always searching for her in hopes that she was able to escape. We looked in all the possible rendezvous places, but she never returned. Several hours after nightfall, we decided to return to SHUSH for further instructions."

There was a moment of silence. My mind was racing ahead with suggestions for rescue operations, so I was shocked when I heard the Director say, "Thank you very much, Agent Hooter. You are dismissed. Agent Waddlemeyer, please accompany Agent Hooter back to the lab. We’re hoping you can make sense of the blueprints he brought for us."

The door had barely closed behind us when I turned on J. Gander. "Is that it? Aren’t they going to discuss a rescue mission?"

"They are discussing it, but we can’t expect to be part of the decision process."

"Yeah, but aren’t they wasting time? Shouldn’t somebody be leaving right now?"

"Heavens, no! They still have much to review. Don’t worry, Gosalyn is a very capable operative. I have every confidence in her abilities."

"Okay, but didn’t you say there seemed to be something wrong with her?"

J. Gander hesitated and gave me a strange look. "Perhaps this conversation should be continued in the privacy of your lab."

Back at the lab, J. Gander removed his jacket, patted his brow with a handkerchief, folded it neatly and returned it to his pocket. I later came to realize that for J. Gander, such an obvious display of nervousness was extremely rare. He sat with perfect posture in a lab chair and began cleaning his glasses with a fresh handkerchief.

"What a frightful experience. I have never been so distraught."

"What, the mission?"

"No, the debriefing!" J. Gander shook his head. "For the first time since I began with SHUSH, I’ve..." he hesitated, obviously uncomfortable.

"You’ve what?"

"I’ve ‘bent the truth’, shall we say."

"You lied?" I gasped.

"No, I merely reinterpreted the events that took place."

"What do you mean by that?"

J. Gander paused again. "Gosalyn didn’t actually signal me to run for the chopper."

"You mean... she just opened fire on you?" I asked, shocked.

"Essentially, yes."

I sat down heavily on a chair, staring at him in disbelief. "But, why?"

"An excellent question."

"Are you sure - I mean, maybe you did interpret it correctly. Maybe she was just trying to let you get away."

"I wish that was the case. However, the first shot that hit me caused me to lose my balance. As I was getting up, I looked back at Gosalyn, who was aiming directly at me with a smoking gun. I took five more shots in the back from her direction before I reached the helicopter. The other FOWL agents were firing on the copter itself. She even ran up to me and tried to pull me out. The pilot, thinking Gosalyn was an agent of FOWL, quickly lifted off. I grabbed the shoulder of her uniform to pull her on board, but she struggled against me to free herself, and fell a good ten feet to the ground."

I sat there in silence for a moment. "What could have made her do this?"
"I don’t know, but the sooner we get her back, the sooner we’ll find out."

"She must have been brainwashed."

"That thought had crossed my mind, but I can’t imagine how they could have accomplished that in such a short amount of time."

"Hypnosis?"
"I considered that as well. If I am familiar with the practice, I believe one cannot be hypnotized to do something one does not want to do. If that is the case, I don’t believe she would want to kill me."

"Unless they convinced her that you were an impostor - not the real J. Gander."

"A possibility..."

"You don’t think," I said, not even wanting to mention it, "Gosalyn did this because she really wanted to do this mission solo?"

J. Gander shook his head immediately. "Gosalyn is a professional. I know she wanted to do this mission alone, but she would never have gone against orders once they were given. I would also hope she would not endanger my life in order to further her own cause."

Of course, I felt badly for suggesting it in the first place - Gosalyn would never have been so selfish. J. Gander obviously knew what I was thinking.

"Don’t worry, Noel. I considered that as well. It’s only logical to explore all the possibilities. Whatever the reason, perhaps the blueprints for their device will shed some light on the situation. I would rather look at those than waste our time in speculation."

He pulled out the roll of paper and spread the sheets on the table. I immediately recognized some machine parts, but the instructions, labels and legend were in a strange shorthand. I had a lot of practice reading messy handwriting, but this went beyond even my own chickenscratch. It had to be a code. We pored over them for about an hour. I tried my best to imagine the purpose of the designs before me, but I was stumped. Finally I decided that if we were to understand what this was all about, the best thing to do would be to build it. J. Gander filled out the correct forms requesting SHUSH intelligence to provide me with a list of the types of materials FOWL had been shipping in. We also requested the assistance of Agent Quilly, SHUSH’s best cryptographer, to help us decode the instructions. At that point, it was about 3:00 a.m., and we decided to get a few hours sleep before continuing. I know J. Gander was exhausted from his mission, but he insisted on returning first thing in the morning.

"We had no idea what was happening to your mother during that time."

"That’s terrible!" said Wendy "You mean she was brainwashed?"

"Well it was less than that and more than that. Of course, Gosalyn didn’t remember much of it. We had to try and piece it all together after the fact."

"So what happened? Did they - torture her?" asked Bill nervously.

"No, no! That was never FOWL’s official policy. Although there was that one time..."

"Dad," said Bill, cutting him off. "Please don’t get off topic now."

"Oh. That can be a story for another time. But I’d hate to give away anything too soon either," Noel said with a smile. "It was nerve-wracking at the time, but you know it’s going to be all right. After all, you’re here aren’t you?"

Wendy laughed at Bill’s sigh of exasperation. "Your father is turning into a regular storyteller. Go on, Dad."

"What we managed to piece together was that once FOWL had discovered the unconscious guards they were able to track your mother down by the uniform she was wearing and use her as bait to lure more SHUSH agents in."

"That still doesn’t explain why Mom was acting so strangely."

"No, it doesn’t," Noel smiled again at his son. "But why should you know more than I did at this point in the story?"

The next day, J. Gander came into the lab with the news that a rescue mission had been sent out early that morning. Among the photographs J. Gander had taken was a floorplan of FOWL headquarters. From that, the planning team was able to find the safest routes to the laboratory and detention area. The plan was for our agents to infiltrate the enemy headquarters and set up an explosion in their lab. They hoped that most of the FOWL agents would then be occupied in evacuating the building or putting out the fire. In the confusion, our people could then make their way to the detention block, deal with any guards that may be there, and free Agents McQuillan, Featherby and Pintail.

"This is all working on the assumption that our prisoners are in the cells," I said. "What happens if they aren’t?"

"Then they move to Plan B."

"Which is...?"

"They’ll get one of the FOWL agent’s uniforms and leave one SHUSH agent behind to listen in on FOWL transmissions until he can find out about our people. Hopefully he can track them down without suspicion and get them out of there, or at least send a message for help."

"They’re leaving one of our agents alone in there posing as a FOWL agent? Isn’t that just what Gosalyn did? What if the same thing happens?"

"I warned them that FOWL could try to control their minds, as they may have with Gosalyn. I wasn’t very specific with the details, and luckily they didn’t ask. They are as prepared as they can be, and this is the best plan they have come up with so far. Time is of the essence. We can only hope they won’t have to resort to Plan B."

"Mind control. It makes the whole case harder to solve doesn’t it?" I asked.

"I’ve gone over our mission in my head time and again, and unfortunately the only other option I’ve come up with is that she was a double agent, and I’m not willing to accept that. I’ve worked with her several times, reviewed her records, and she’s simply not capable of such deception."

There was nothing more for us to say about the matter. All we could do was wait. Neither of us admitted aloud our concern for Gosalyn, but we didn’t have to. We knew if anyone could get out of this, it would be her, but we both felt so helpless just waiting there. And the thought that FOWL might be messing with her mind...

I spent the day in my lab, trying to distract my thoughts by working on the FOWL contraption. Even half-constructed, I was still baffled as to its purpose. It almost reminded me of some kind of generator, but if that was the case, it would have some very strange power outputs. I eventually found myself altering the design. If I was right about their intentions, I wanted to see what they were trying to do without making a potentially dangerous machine. Of course, the harder I worked, the more I thought about Gosalyn. By about 4:00, I was nearing completion, and decided to have a break. I knew J. Gander would be in the cafeteria having his tea, and decided to join him. I had barely sat down with my coffee when the intercom system came to life throughout the building.

"This is Director Webber. The swallows have returned to Capistrano," he announced. "That is all."

"I beg your pardon?" interrupted Bill. "Did the Director always make such bizarre announcements?"

Noel laughed. "That was a code phrase for the successful return of a mission. Of course with several missions going on at once we weren’t really certain it was about your mother, but in an information agency like SHUSH, good news - whether or not it was the one you were hoping for - was always welcome. Rumours spread quickly and even when we weren’t supposed to talk about missions, most everyone knew something about the earlier attempts at infiltrating FOWL. Everyone simply knew the Director had to be referring to this latest case and the recovery of Agents Pintail, Featherby, and your mother."

"Hey, I thought you said she didn’t return from that mission, Dad," Bill accused.

"Well, she didn’t return right away..." Grampa admitted. "Of course saying that wouldn’t have the same dramatic effect." Bill and Wendy looked at each other. "Well, at the time, I didn’t know that she would come back. Even then, I still had no idea how much that was hanging over me."

It was like a weight lifted from the whole room. I hadn’t noticed the solemn atmosphere in there until it turned to one of relief. The conversations became louder, and laughter could be heard. Obviously I was not the only one who had been preoccupied. I looked over at J. Gander, who was curiously subdued.

"What’s the matter, J. Gander? Everyone’s okay! Aren’t you happy?"

"That was too easy," he said over his tea.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I’m very happy they are back safely," he said, laying down his teaspoon and taking a sip. "I only hope that this is the last we need to deal with FOWL for quite a while."

"Well, for Gosalyn’s sake, I hope so. It probably won’t be though," I said putting aside my coffee cup. "I still have to finish constructing that doohickey of theirs, remember. And it’ll be a whole new ball game once we know what they’re up to. By the way, do you suppose I can requisition a gerbil from Supplies?"

J. Gander and I knew Gosalyn must have been exhausted, but we couldn’t help going to see her after the debriefing. We waited outside the room until they came out. It wasn’t encouraging to see the looks on their faces. The rescue mission must have been through quite an ordeal, as the Director and top brass of SHUSH exited the room seemingly lost in thought. Director Webber looked surprised to see us there, but quickly collected himself and greeted us.

"I’m glad you’re here," he said. "You can escort Agents Featherby, Pintail and McQuillan to Medical for a complete exam."

"Yes sir."

Gosalyn looked tiredly at us as she and the others came forward. J. Gander and I fell into step with them as we headed towards SHUSH medical labs. Considering what they had been through, and their obvious exhaustion, they seemed to be in good health.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked. "Why do you have to go to Medical?"

"Oh, just procedure," said Gosalyn.

"You’re not a field agent," Pintail interjected, "otherwise you’d know that already."

I raised my eyebrows and looked behind Pintail’s back to J. Gander, who subtly shook his head and glanced upward. I had to stifle a smirk - you get all kinds in a spy organization.

"I’m happy to see you quite yourself again, Agent McQuillan," J. Gander said to Gosalyn.

"Thanks, J.G. I’m happy to be back," she said.

The next morning I was back to work, determined to find out the purpose of the FOWL invention. There were only a few more pieces to fit in, some fine tuning to do, and it would be finished. Unfortunately, I was certain at this point that there must be more to the contraption than just this. I figured the power it generated must have been to supply another machine. I’d have to go through the other blueprints J. Gander was able to get. It was frustrating to know the answer was still so far away.

The internal intercom interrupted my thoughts. "Attention all personnel, this is SHUSH Medical. Due to the possibility of biological contamination brought in from FOWL, all personnel will need to be inoculated immediately. In order to accommodate this, we will instruct you to come in alphabetical order. All personnel with last names beginning with A, please report to the medical lab."

"Swell," I thought. "I hate needles."

I returned to my work, intent on finishing it before my turn came. Inoculations always left me queasy for a day, and I didn’t want to lose any momentum. It was interesting to time the pauses between Medical’s calls for personnel and think how many agents had the first letter of their last name in common. I was putting the finishing touches on the FOWL device when Gosalyn came in.

"Hi Noel. How goes the mad scientist routine?"

"Hi Gosalyn! It goes just fine. Do you realize we have more M’s working for SHUSH than any other letter of the alphabet so far?" I commented absently. "Oh, how are you doing? Do you know anything about this FOWL contamination?"

"Oh that. I’m sure it’s nothing. The doctors gave me a clean bill of health so I’m back on active status. Apparently Featherby might have been exposed to something during his imprisonment. I guess Command is just being cautious." She looked at machine before me. "I heard about the FOWL device. Is this it?"

"This is it! I think it’s a power amplifier or a generator for a larger system. I’ve just finished doing some modifications."

"Modifications? Why would it need any modifications?"

"Well, the design was seriously flawed. If I had made it according to specs, it would have generated a tremendous feedback charge and the power surge would have blown every electrical circuit in the SHUSH installation. That would have disabled all our security, communications, surveillance cameras... well, everything. Anyway, I think now it’ll work as it’s supposed to."

"You modified it?" she asked, apparently disturbed by this news. Then she looked angry. "Who gave you the authority? I can’t believe it! Now we’ll never know what FOWL was planning to do! All my work’s been wasted!"

"But... uh, I thought..." I didn’t get a chance to finish. Gosalyn stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Disturbed by her behaviour, I rushed out of the lab to follow. She certainly was not acting like herself, but I had to remind myself that, active status or not, she had just returned from an exhausting ordeal. She obviously needed more rest at the very least. I also couldn’t help remembering her erratic behaviour on the away mission, and grew even more concerned. On top of that, I would have felt awful if she was genuinely upset about my changing the device. All things considered, I didn’t want the conversation to end. I heard her footsteps at the end of the corridor and saw the stairwell door swing shut. She was clearly in a hurry to get away from me - I went after her.

Her path led us back to SHUSH Medical. I may not have been a field agent, but some aspect of my SHUSH training must have kicked in because I became suspicious. Why was she returning to the medical lab? I decided to wait a moment outside and see if I could hear anything of import before I went rushing in after her.

Gosalyn’s angry voice sounded clearly in the hall from the examining room. It took me a moment to identify who she was talking to, but the second voice, with its patronizing tone, could only have been Agent Pintail. What business could he have had at Medical? I was certain the inoculations had progressed beyond P.

"Noel has ruined everything!"

"Noel? Noel who?"

"Waddlemeyer," she said, exasperated. "He’s the agent assigned to construct the device from FOWL’s blueprints. He decided to ‘modify’ the thing. We’ll never know what FOWL intended to do with those plans - after all I went through for them!"

"Hah! SHUSH sends us in first, and all of a sudden it’s after all you went through!" Pintail’s arrogant voice commented coldly. "Wasn’t it your partner who found the plans in the first place?"

"I didn’t see you taking much initiative!" she snapped.

"Stop it, you two," said a third voice. "It doesn’t matter. We’ve completed our mission, we’re back at SHUSH. We know our orders. What else do you want?"

"The mission’s not over until FOWL gets what it deserves!" Gosalyn said spitefully. "We’ve got to do something about this."

"It may still work all right..." said Pintail.

"And there are always alternatives..."

"You’re right, Featherby," said Pintail. "McQuillan, I think this is your department."

There was a pause, after which I heard Gosalyn’s voice saying, "All right, boys. Alternatives coming up."

I quietly backed away from the door and around a corner as I heard Gosalyn’s approaching footsteps. Unaware of my presence, she strode past me at a determined pace, and once more disappeared into the stairwell. I scrambled to follow her back to the top floor, emerging from the stairwell in time to see her shut my lab door behind her.

The door refused to open. There must have been something blocking it from the other side. I pounded on it and shouted to her.

"I can fix this, Noel!" she shouted back.

"Gosalyn! You don’t know what you’re doing! Let me in!"

"I know what I’m doing! I’ve got my orders - leave me alone!"

I shook the door handle and pleaded for her to open it. I could hear her moving about, but she refused to answer me.

Suddenly I heard a whining sound begin to build in intensity, and the corridor lights began to pulse and dim, rapidly switching from brilliance to twilight as the noise grew louder. I pushed myself away from the door...

A violent explosion threw me to the floor. For a moment I couldn’t move. My ears had been deafened by the blast, giving an unreal silence to the disaster before me. Through the settling debris I saw remains of my lab door swing weakly from its hinges - the door itself must have flown over my head, narrowly missing me. It lay in a jagged splintered heap across the hall from where I lay. I staggered past the crumpled chair Gosalyn must have jammed under the handle to block my way and peered through the rubble that was once my office and work areas. Files and machine parts lay scattered, and in some cases embedded into the walls. Shelves had been blown off their brackets and smoke poured out into the clear sky through a gaping hole which covered half the ceiling and most of the outer wall. Tears flowed from my smoke-stung eyes. I didn’t even call out. I couldn’t imagine it’d make a difference.

I don’t know how long I stood there staring at the wreckage. Eventually I became aware of alarm bells. I knew I had to leave, to walk away from this moment and let time begin again, but I couldn’t move.

"Noel? Is that you?" came a voice from behind me. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Nodding numbly, I turned my head and found Agent Wakefield beside me, staring into what was once my lab.

"Good heavens, what happened?"

How could I tell him? How could I say that my own project not only caused this disaster, but also took the life of my friend?

"Noel?" Wakefield looked at me. "Was somebody in that room when it happened?"

Somehow I found my voice. "Gosalyn."

Wakefield stepped in front of me, blocking my view, forcing me to focus on him. "Noel. You’ve got to listen to me. We have to get out of here. This part of the building may not be safe any more. We need to evacuate until we can get a crew up here to inspect the damage. Do you understand me?"

I nodded again, letting him lead me away. As we moved down through the building, I became aware that Agent Wakefield’s voice had taken on a sterner tone, and that he was no longer talking to me, but to himself. "What’s going on here? Where is security? Why isn’t anybody paying attention to the alarms?" Looking around, my dazed mind clearing, I realized he was right. The people we saw were going about their duties seemingly unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A couple of agents I didn’t know ran up to us from behind - their faces mirroring my own confusion.

"Agent Wakefield?!" one of them called out. "What’s going on? We heard a terrific explosion, and then the fire alarms went off, but hardly anyone seems to be taking notice of them! Is this a drill or something?"

"No, this is a real alarm," said Wakefield. "You two try and clear this level. Agent Waddlemeyer here may have been caught in the blast - I was taking him to Medical, but now I’m not sure that we’re needed more to wake these people up!" He looked around again at all our fellow agents, placidly continuing their chores. "What’s wrong with you?!" he shouted at one fellow behind a desk.

"I’m just fine thank you," he said back, with a polite smile.

"Can’t you hear the alarms? Clear the building!"

"Oh all right," he said, amiably gathering his coat and walking away from us.

Wakefield shook his head in bewilderment. "I’ve got to speak with the Director." He picked up the intercom.

One of the other agents went to a secretary, typing at her desk. A thin layer of plaster dust covered everything, and as she typed, little puffs shot out of her typewriter. "Didn’t you hear the explosion?" he asked.

"Yes," she said with a motherly smile. "Those boys at R&D really enjoy their work, don’t they?"

The agent’s jaw fell open, but he stopped himself before responding. Realizing the futility, he just sighed and said calmly to the lady, "You have a piece of ceiling tile in your hair."

"Oops!" she said with a giggle, pulling out the debris and laying it next to her tea cup. "Is that what that was? Thanks, dear." She continued her typing.

Wakefield hung up the intercom. "I got no answer from the Director’s office. At least I was able to get a hold of Agent Yardley. He’s evacuating the floor below us. He says most everyone downstairs is the same as this. Noel, I need your help to move these people out."

I began coaxing people to leave. They were certainly co-operative, but otherwise seemingly oblivious to what was going on around them. We hadn’t been more than a minute at our task when another agent ran in. He was out of breath. "Agent Wakefield! You have to look out a south window. We’re being invaded!"

"What?!" Wakefield took off down the corridor. The south was also the side of the explosion, so he had to run a safe distance from the damage before going into a room where he could look.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"I have no idea, but there are dozens of them! They’re all in orange uniforms, and they’re wearing white helmets. Security’s just sitting there, letting them go past. What’s with everyone, anyway?"

The intercom interrupted him. "Attention. Will those agents with last names beginning with W please report to Medical for their inoculation." The announcement only added to the unreality of the entire day. Like everyone else, the medical staff hadn’t been swayed from its routine.

Medical. I went back in my mind to the cryptic conversation I overheard there. What was so important about FOWL’s device that Gosalyn was willing to risk her own life to fix it? And why did Pintail and Featherby let her go, knowing the danger involved? What were they doing there in the first place, and how did Gosalyn know they were there? A thought finally surfaced in my muddled brain. I hoped I was wrong.

"What’s your name?" I asked the winded agent, who was now helping in the evacuation.

"Zimmerman."

"I was afraid of that," I muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

I called out to the other two agents helping us. "What are your names?"

"Yolk."

"Webber." He looked at me sheepishly. "Uh, I’m the Director’s nephew."

"The Director..." My mind was clearing. "Find your uncle fast, and let him know what’s happening - if he doesn’t already know. But whatever you do, make sure he doesn’t go to Medical!" He looked confused, but agreed and ran to the stairs.

Wakefield returned, his face grim. "They match the description of FOWL agents. There were at least 30 out there, and it looks like some have already come into the building. Whatever is affecting these people must have also gotten to security because they are making no moves to resist them at all."

"It’s the inoculations. It’s got to be," I said. "The only people acting normally are the ones who haven’t gotten them. It must be some side-effect."

"SHUSH Medical did this?"

"I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s the only explanation. All of us here" I said, indicating our small group, " have names beginning with the last four letters of the alphabet."

"Begging your pardon," said Yolk, "but I don’t think that’s it. I ran into Agent McQuillan not long after the explosion and she was behaving fine. Not apathetic like these people."

"What?!" I shouted, staggering back as his words hit me.

"You’ve seen Agent McQuillan!?" Wakefield asked incredulously. "After the explosion?!"

"Yes, she was just coming down from the fire escape and ..."

"The fire escape?! Gosalyn McQuillan?!" I asked.

The agent looked at me with exasperation. "Yes - Gosalyn McQuillan. She was..."

"Agent Waddlemeyer," said Wakefield turning to face me. "Are you certain Agent McQuillan was in your lab at the time of the explosion?"

"Positive!" I said, still reeling from the news that Gosalyn was alive. "Sir, she barricaded the door against me! I was shouting to her, and she was answering!"

"So she must have escaped from your lab through the window before the machine blew up."

"Agent Wakefield, Gosalyn has a terrible fear of heights. Her phobia is so strong it has been known to incapacitate her - even in life and death situations. She couldn’t possibly have gone down the fire escape. She would’ve had to travel out my window and along the ledge to get to it."

"So how can you explain Agent Yolk’s observations?"

"I can’t sir. Maybe the same thing that’s causing these agents to be so placid is making Gosalyn more aggressive, and less fearful? Agent Hooter, who had been assigned as Gosalyn’s partner during her FOWL investigation, had mentioned that she had been behaving strangely and disoriented. He even theorized some kind of mind control."

Wakefield looked serious for a moment longer before addressing us. "Gentlemen, SHUSH is in grave danger, and it may be from within. Our first step is to get to Medical and see what answers might be waiting for us there. Let’s see if we can make it to the armoury and equip ourselves."

"Uh sir?" I interjected a little meekly. "I’m not registered to use a gun with SHUSH. In fact, I’ve had to promise not to get anywhere near a gun - at least until my arms instructor is out of the hospital." Wakefield looked at me piercingly. "But I think I know of something I can use that won’t endanger anyone too much..."

As the others made their way to the arms lockers, I detoured to my personal locker and my prototype cartridge gun. I knew this gun inside out, and had designed it for defensive purposes. Even with my lousy aim I should still be able to wield it effectively. I rummaged through my locker for spare cartridges. There were several and I quickly stuffed them into my pockets, barely sparing a glance for their contents. I now wished I had bothered to label them. Telling them apart in the lab and on the run were two very different situations. I could only hope I would have time for more than a cursory glance if I had to use them. Whatever they were, I decided to try to use what was at hand first and save them only as a last resort.

Suddenly the alarms stopped and the intercom crackled to life again with an announcement that made what had happened up to now seem as harmless as an episode of "I Love Goosey".

"Attention all SHUSH personnel. This is Number Two of FOWL High Command. Your orders are hereby changed. First, you are to obey only my instructions. Second, tear the place apart and take anything of importance that you can carry - files, weapons, classified intelligence information. Let no one stop you. Third, make your way to FOWL Headquarters in North Duckota by any means possible. That is all."

The clamour of people destroying the installation began almost instantly. That confirmed my fear. The inoculations had somehow caused almost everyone in SHUSH to be so susceptible to suggestion that they would even go against their own natures. I gingerly made my way out from the locker rooms through the office areas as people around me tore apart file cabinets and desks. Occasionally I spotted a FOWL agent, dressed in the distinctive bright orange outfit and wearing the strangely ovaloid helmet. Luckily the bedlam worked to my advantage as I made my way to Medical. I crept up to the door.

"Things are proceeding as planned," said Featherby from within the CMO’s office.

"Excellent," said another voice. I recognized it from the intercom announcement as belonging to FOWL’s Number Two.

"I - I don’t feel well..." said Gosalyn.

"It must be time for your next injection," said Number Two. I leapt into the doorway at that moment, brandishing my cartridge gun.

"Nobody move!" I shouted. "The jig is up!" (I grimaced inwardly, hoping that some day I would sound convincing at playing the hero.) Featherby and Pintail stood behind a shadowy figure that was seated behind the CMO’s desk. The doctor was preparing to give Gosalyn an injection of some type, while she waited patiently. I saw Pintail reach inside his jacket and my finger closed convulsively on the trigger. A preloaded cartridge shot out, ricocheting off the wall over his head, and showering him with confetti.

Darn! I thought as I was hurriedly trying to reload the gun with a more effective pellet. That was the test cartridge.

Suddenly Gosalyn was in front of me, striking the cartridges from my grip. The canisters flew as one, falling down an old fashioned heating duct. "Give it up Noel. Working for FOWL won’t be so bad." She faced off in front of me and began advancing. Slowly I backed up, trying to put the secretary’s desk between us. I didn’t want to risk hurting her, or more likely - having her hurt me. I grabbed at a stack of pencils, jammed them into my gun and fired, spraying HBs through the room. Gosalyn yelped and dodged as pencils left their mark. Featherby and Pintail had ducked behind the desk with Number Two and the doctor was cowering in the corner. They seemed content to let Gosalyn finish me.

I blindly grabbed at the secretary’s blotter - seeking anything that might stem Gosalyn’s renewed advance. I stuffed a steno pad into the barrel, and squeezed the trigger. A barrage of origami throwing stars fluttered out, inflicting minor paper cuts. Gosalyn’s expression boded none too well for me if I got caught. I dashed back into the examining room, knocking over trays and chairs to add some distance between us. I grabbed at a box of bandages and loaded the gun once more. This time the small plasters succeeded in gumming Gosalyn to the wall.

Despite the situation, I had to stop and admire my handiwork. "This gun is great!" I said aloud, staring at the still-smoking barrel.

"Indeed," said the cool voice of Number Two. I looked up to see Featherby and Pintail leveling their sidearms at me from the inner office door. Meekly, I dropped my cartridge gun to the floor. "Take him!" said Number Two.

They threw me into the boiler room in the installation’s basement.

Above me I could hear the stamping of my colleagues’ feet as they trashed the building from one end to the other. At one point I thought I even heard another small explosion and wondered how Wakefield and the others might be faring against the rest of the population of SHUSH. I examined my small prison. No exterior windows, no crowbars, tools, keys or anything of use - just a couple of nuts and bolts on the floor, and a roll of duct tape. On closer inspection, I found a short length of lead pipe in a corner. I banged away at the doorknob with it, and succeeded only in bruising my knuckles on the door frame. It was too short to be of any use, and I threw it down with a loud clatter. I kicked the janitor’s mop and bucket in frustration sending it careening off of the furnace - and paused at the rattling echo it produced. I peered within, not believing my luck. Blowing out the pilot light, I removed a side service panel and reached inside to remove the cartridges which Gosalyn had knocked out of my hand. This was incredible! There might be hope yet.

I spent a few more minutes banging on the ducts which fed into the room and succeeded in getting back even more of the cartridges I had lost. I laid them out on the floor and began to determine their nature. Even without labels, there were some small differences between the canisters that I could recognize on close examination. Discarding the remaining confetti cartridge, I was left with some smoke cartridges, and several sleeping gas cartridges.

I carefully relit the furnace pilot light, and turned up the master temperature gauge. I stripped off my shirt and soaked it thoroughly in the dirty water in the janitor’s bucket and tied it around my head, then tossed the sleeping gas cartridges into the air intake of the furnace and watched in satisfaction as the hot air and fans pumped the gas upwards at an astonishing rate.

While I waited for the sleeping gas to hopefully take effect, I gathered the lead pipe, the nuts and bolts, the duct tape, and my smoke cartridge. I lined up the forward end of the canister to the end of the pipe and taped them together securely. I filled the other end with as many nuts and bolts as I could find, and tamped them down tightly with my pen. Then I placed the open end of the pipe against the door where I thought the locking mechanism would be, and used more duct tape to hold it in place.

The noises of the rampage above died down gradually and looking at the grate above the furnace, I saw some gas being returned by the airflow. That was my cue. I picked up the mop and held it like a bat, taking aim at my makeshift air gun. Just as I was winding up, I thankfully realized that the chances of missing my target were far greater than hitting it. Not wanting to take that chance, I tossed the mop aside, emptied the bucket on the floor, and swung with all my might at the cartridge. I was rewarded with a loud bang, and the door swinging open.

I was so relieved to be free! My biggest concern was that I might have put myself to sleep, or succeeded in stopping FOWL, only to remain locked up until the gas wore off.

I cautiously looked out into the hall and saw no one there. Not unusual, considering I was in the basement. More encouraging was the fact that I couldn’t hear anything from above now. My first stop would have to be the armoury for a gas mask. I didn’t want to count on my shirt for too long. Conclusive evidence that my plan was successful was in the stair well, where there were three agents sleeping among the scattered contents of confidential files. I was beginning to feel dizzy and decided to try to hold my breath and rush to the armoury as quickly as possible. With my head light from the trace amounts of sleeping gas I had inhaled, it felt more like making my way through a nightmare, stepping over limp bodies in the eerie silence.

Once I had a gas mask, I put back on my shirt and went to Medical to see if Gosalyn and the others were still there. I was relieved to find not only her and the others, but the shady FOWL agent who called himself Number Two. The doctor laid across his desk, half-covering a briefcase full of glittering vials. Realizing that this must have been the ‘inoculation’ serum, I quickly set about emptying the contents down a drain. I decided next to secure FOWL’s second in command in the brig. It was no small feat hoisting him onto a gurney, but once that was done I simply wheeled him into the service elevator, took him to the detention level, and dumped him unceremoniously into a cell.

Locking the bars in place, I turned and surveyed my work with satisfaction. I had things completely under control now. The destruction and pillaging had stopped, the drug disposed of, and Number Two safely behind bars. Not bad for a fledgling member of SHUSH Central - who wasn’t even a field agent, I thought, chuckling at Pintail’s condescending attitude. Won’t he be surprised when he wakes up.

I started to imagine the scene in my head and suddenly realized that I had no idea how long the FOWL drug would last. When Pintail does wake up, I thought, he would very likely shoot me. In fact, when everyone wakes up, they would just continue trashing the place like they were before. I looked with dismay at the few holding cells we had. With nearly every person in the building a potential threat, what the heck was I going to do with them all? Even if we had enough cells, I wouldn’t be able to lock them all up before the gas wore off.

The initial foreboding I felt suddenly turned into cold panic as I heard the heavy scuffle of booted feet. I looked about frantically but there was no cover in sight. They were definitely coming my way. Without another option, I dropped to the floor and lay as still as I could. Seconds later, people entered the detention area. I didn’t dare open my eyes.

"Here’s a couple more," said one voice. "Look, this one’s wearing a gas mask, and he’s out too, so it mustn’t be anything in the air."

"I don’t know. I've been feeling a little light-headed since we came inside. What else could it be?"

Oh no, I thought. The gas had dissipated enough to be ineffective, and now FOWL reinforcements had arrived. There was a quiet burst of static and then a muffled conversation between the man and his walkie-talkie.

"That was the Sarge," he said to his companion. "Another unit has arrived. We’re to report back to Agent Yardley by the front gates."

I was so overcome by relief at hearing this that I leapt to my feet, only to be brought up short by the clicking of two guns in my face. "Nice and easy, there, buddy," said one of them. "Just keep your hands where I can see them."

"Hey, I’m on your side," I said through the mask, holding up my hands. I could tell by their uniforms that they were military - probably National Guard. His partner removed my mask, keeping his gun trained on my chest.

"We’ll be the judge of that. Put your hands behind your head and start walking."

They led me out past the sleeping bodies and through the front door. "Agent Yardley!" one shouted out. "We found one awake. Maybe he can answer some questions."

Agent Yardley turned around and looked at me in surprise. "For heaven sakes, he’s one of ours! Put down your guns!"

The officers guarding me mumbled insincere apologies as they holstered their pistols.

"Don’t worry, lads," said Yardley. "Maybe you can get a medal for the next one you catch."

I approached him and he smiled warmly. "Good afternoon, Agent Waddlemeyer. Would you happen to know anything about the 200 unconscious bodies in that building?"

"Uh, it might have something to do with the sleeping gas I put in the ventilation system."

Yardley’s smile broadened. "It might," he said with a chuckle. "And just what were you going to do with 200 sleeping bodies?"

"I’m afraid I hadn’t gotten quite that far yet," I said sheepishly. "But now that you’re here, maybe you can lend me a hand locking them into safe places until the drug wears off."

"That sounds like a plan," Yardley said. "It’s just a shame we had to lose Number Two. He must have gotten away with the others."

"Oh, he didn’t get away!" I said proudly. "I’ve got him locked up safe and sound in detention."

He rewarded me with a look of admiration. "Good work, Noel! Is there anything else I should know?"

I looked at the gaping hole in the roof and upper wall of the building, and thought of the multitudes of sleeping colleagues. "No, I think that about covers it," I said with a grin.

I found out later that Yardley had managed to get out of the building during the rampage, and along with Wakefield and some of the others, barricaded the exits to keep too many of our fellow agents from escaping. Unfortunately, it hadn’t stopped those that had escaped from taking SHUSH helicopters and planes, including Director Webber and half the senior staff. It turned out that they had been kept heavily drugged ever since the debriefing after the rescue party had returned.

The general population of SHUSH, including J. Gander, was fine in a day or two, with little more than lingering headaches to remind them of their rampage. It was a lot harder for Gosalyn, Featherby and Pintail, along with the handful of FOWL agents we had. The drug FOWL used to control its agents turned out to cause terrible withdrawal symptoms when withheld from them. It was FOWL’s way of maintaining total control over its operatives, and the odd-shaped helmets were built to emit a fine spray of it at regular intervals. Gosalyn never realized what was happening when she first put on that uniform. She was eventually unable to resist the orders she was hearing over the helmet.

A quarter of the population of SHUSH Central was lost when they took off for FOWL, mindlessly obeying Number Two’s orders. The building was half-destroyed and in shambles. Important secrets had also been lost. Days later, we were still finding our own agents wandering in the city or nearby woods in a daze as the drug wore off. Our first encounter with FOWL was devastating, and it took us months to recover, but we learned an important lesson, and took FOWL more seriously from then on.

There was a long silence.

"Is that it?" Bill asked.

"You seem confused."

"Well, I am. You haven’t said what happened to all those SHUSH agents that took off to FOWL."

"Yes I did. They went to FOWL."

"Yeah, but how did you get them back?"

"We didn’t," Grampa Waddlemeyer said, sighing. "It wasn’t for lack of trying, mind you. We had numerous missions to FOWL to retrieve them, but they were just absorbed. There was no way for us to tell them from any of the others. FOWL agents - they called them ‘eggmen’ because of those odd helmets - well, they all looked the same, and we never saw them out of uniform. And with our agents under the constant influence of that drug, they were as single-minded as the other eggmen, working for FOWL. SHUSH was able to make an antidote for the drug which we used during these and later missions to FOWL, and we devised a good rehabilitation program for any eggmen we were able to capture. Unfortunately, none of them were our people."

"What about your Director?"

Noel shook his head. "FOWL really wanted the top brass from SHUSH. Their knowledge and leadership capabilities, not to mention the classified information they could get from them, was FOWL’s greatest prize."

"You mean that was their plan all along? What about that weapon?"

"There never was a weapon. The whole thing was a setup. They were hoping we’d steal those plans to make the contraption that would blow out SHUSH’s security and give them the opportunity to storm the building by force. Of course, when Gosalyn fell under their control, she inadvertently inspired them to do the same for the rest of SHUSH through those inoculations. That addition to their plans was the icing on the cake."

"It’s amazing that SHUSH was able to recover itself at all!"

"It was a pretty rough time for a while. Those who recovered had muddled memories of being under the influence, but the government couldn’t take the chance that Webber and the others wouldn’t still be able to recall all of the secrets they knew. We had to move every SHUSH installation in the country as well as alter hundreds of encoded materials to safeguard their information. This is one story that couldn’t simply iris out on the hero holding a martini in one hand and a woman in the other."

"How was Gosalyn after her adventure?" asked Wendy. "I bet she wasn’t so quick to try and wheedle a solo assignment after that!"

Noel laughed. "Oh how I wish you had met her!" he said. "Nothing ever slowed her down for long! A week after she’d recovered from her withdrawal symptoms she came into my lab with suggestions for improving the canisters on my prototype gun, and took it upon herself to better my self defense and espionage skills!"

"I wish I had met her," Wendy said. "She sounds like she was an amazing woman."

Noel smiled distantly, looking past them to a photograph of her that Bill kept on a bookshelf. He couldn’t find the words to respond, so he rose to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back. "I really ought to be going before it gets much later."

They smiled sympathetically. "Thanks for everything, Dad," Bill said, giving him a hug.

Wendy hugged him as well. "Our Gosalyn is a very lucky little girl."

"Heh." Grampa smiled knowingly. "She’ll certainly be a handful, though! My Gosalyn’s spirit in a small child would make for a real fireball." He laughed. "She’s likely to turn you prematurely grey!" Noel put on his jacket and looked lovingly up the stairs to his granddaughter’s bedroom. "I really look forward to seeing her grow up."