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Broc and Noel Revival
by Christie and Larry deSouza

"Knock knock..." Wendy called rather softly as she and Bill entered Grampa Waddlemeyer's apartment. "Are you awake, Dad? Oh! Hi, Lance." Prof. Waddlemeyer's lab assistant from the university was just putting on his coat.

Bill closed the door with his elbow. He juggled the pot of soup he was carrying from one hand to another as he removed his jacket.

"Hey!" Lance said. "You got here just in time! The Prof is getting restless... and grumpy, I might add," he pointed out in a light-hearted whisper. "Sorry to leave you like this, but I really do have to go."

"Oh, we'll keep him in line. Don't worry." Bill winked at Lance.

"Is that you, Bill?" came Noel's voice from the living room.

"Yeah, Dad! Don't get up!"

Noel came into the foyer. "I'm not dying, you know. I have a cold. I do wish people wouldn't fuss."

Lance chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm outa here! Feel better, Prof!"

"I will. Thanks Lance," Noel said wearily, seeing him out.

"You sound kinda tired, Dad," Wendy said sympathetically. "Maybe you should sit down." Noel shot her a warning glance. "We're not fussing," she said defensively. "We're just... visiting!"

"With some of Wendy's home-made soup!" Bill said cheerily, displaying the pot for his father before going into the kitchen and putting it on the stove.

Wendy pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and quickly followed him. "Here - let me do this. This recipe has got very specific instructions to follow. I want to get it just right."

"Uh... sure, Hon," Bill said, coming back from the kitchen and giving his father a sheepish smile. "Let's go into the living room."

"So where's Gosalyn?" Noel asked as he eased into the couch.

"Sitter's," said Bill. "I hope you don't mind, but we really didn't want her to catch your cold."

"I guess." Noel sighed disappointedly. "You're right, of course."

They heard Wendy softly counting and the sound of her spoon hitting the pot. A few seconds later she looked into the living room, leaning on the kitchen door frame.

"You see, Wen?" Bill said, indicating his frowning father. "I was right. We should have brought her anyway."

"Aw, Dad. Gos would just end up wearing you out," she said reassuringly. "You deserve some peace and quiet for a change." Noel looked unconvinced.

"Wendy, you must know by now that the only reason he wants us over is so he can see Gos!"

Instead of disagreeing, Noel settled even further back into the couch, resting his heavy head on the back. They just smiled. Despite his outward appearance, he was very grateful for their company - and their tolerance. He knew they understood his lack of hospitality and tact, and wouldn't take it personally.

"That soup should warm up pretty quickly," Wendy said, turning back into the kitchen. "Just you wait, Dad. This is a special batch just for you!"

"You really needn't fuss, Wendy," Noel said, although he always looked forward to her soup - in fact anything she cooked.

"No trouble at all, Dad. I know it'll make you feel better." She came back out with a steaming mug. "I hope you like it."

Noel accepted the mug, holding it closely to warm his hands. "You're too good for me," he said graciously.

Knowing he couldn't move away quickly now, Wendy felt his forehead. Noel shot her another warning look, which she ignored. "I thought so," she said. "I'm sending you straight to bed after you have your soup."

"Wendy..." Bill warned.

"'We're not fussing, just visiting,'" Noel imitated her with a touch of sarcasm.

Wendy just smiled. "Drink your soup, Dad."

"Let her win, Dad," Bill said. "I find it's a lot easier that way."

Noel didn't have the energy to argue and realized he could use the sleep. He blew over the soup and took a long sip, but stopped suddenly, his expression changing.

"Uh... is anything wrong, Dad?" Bill asked.

"Oh, no," Noel said quickly. "I just think this cold may have affected my taste."

"That must be it," Wendy said, smiling uncomfortably.

Noel gave her a suspicious look and took another more cautious sip of his soup. "You've changed your recipe a little, Wendy?"

"Yeah," Wendy said. "Do you like it?"

"Of course," he said. "Won't you two join me?"

Bill and Wendy looked at each other.

"Just exactly who is Gosalyn with?" Noel asked accusingly.

Wendy shot Bill a pained expression. Bill suddenly smiled at his dad. "You'd never guess who we ran into on our way here, Dad."

"Pray tell," Noel said.

"Aunt Sasha!"

Noel nodded knowingly.

"And you know how good she is with little Gos..." Bill continued.

Noel continued nodding, a wry grin spreading on his face.

"And... well... we just happened to let her know where we were going, so she..."

"She gave you one of her 'back home' surefire cures to put into my soup, right?"

"Well, it seemed like a good idea."

Noel looked into his mug. "I insist you both join me," he said, smiling sweetly and taking another sip.

Wendy looked again at her husband with a worried expression. Bill smiled back. "Don't worry, Wen. He's kidding."

"Oh no I'm not."

Not long afterwards the three were sipping soup. Noel was already in better spirits, especially watching his son and daughter-in-law as they swallowed the odd-tasting mixture. He knew it wouldn't hurt them to have it - on the contrary, it was likely to keep them from catching his cold. His good friend Sasha had been concocting these herbal 'remedies' as long as he had known her, and as strange as they tasted, they always seemed to work. He was lost in thought, remembering back to when he had met her, and suddenly realized something.

"Bill, I bet you don't know how I met Sasha."

Bill considered this for a moment. "You know, you're right, Dad. It's funny I never asked."

"It was lucky for me you never asked, actually. I wouldn't have known what to say."

"What do you mean?"

"What would you think if I told you Aunt Sasha was a SHUSH agent?" Noel's eyes twinkled as he smiled.

"I'd think you were delirious," Bill said immediately.

"Well, she was."

Bill looked incredulously at his father. "Okay Dad, I'm getting used to the idea of my parents having been spies, but c'mon... Aunt Sasha? I've never met a more quiet, unassuming person in my life!"

"Oh, if you think she's quiet now, you really should have seen her when I first met her!"

It took a moment for Bill to accept this information. "Dad, is there anyone I've known since childhood who isn't a spy?" Noel chuckled again. "Please don't tell me she was a field agent like Mom. I don't think I could handle that."

"Although," Wendy interrupted, "it may explain why she is the only person who doesn't look exhausted after baby-sitting Gosalyn."

"Oh, Sasha's children were pretty spirited when they were little, too. But no, she wasn't a field agent. She was in the Science department, like me. In fact, she started out as my assistant."

"Really?"

"She came in just after our first run-in with Leon Ardo. SHUSH had to face the fact that if I had been killed by Leon, there wouldn't be anyone else to replace me as their quacktron expert. Considering the threat Leon posed, that would have left them very vulnerable. Even before I had completely recovered, SHUSH had put me in charge of choosing an apprentice that could learn all I knew about quacktrons and be able to take over, just in case."

"That was Aunt Sasha?"

"That shouldn't surprise you - you know she's a brilliant scientist."

"Well, yeah... I guess I've only thought of her as my aunt."

"Oh, she's a lot more than that, Son. It took a long time to really get to know her. She was always reluctant to talk about herself despite her accomplishments. I think she had a difficult childhood. Sasha was the white sheep of her family."

"Don't you mean black sheep, Dad?"

"Well, I guess you had to know her family... or at least their perspective on things. But that's another story."

Bill looked puzzled. "Doesn't she get along with her family? I thought she was planning on moving back some time in the near future."

"No, no, she gets along fine with them. Her career choice was just an unusual one for her family." Noel shrugged. "Back in the 'old country' there isn't much call for a theoretical particle physicist."

"What was she like to work with?" Wendy asked.

"Loyal. Trustworthy. Dependable. Really everything I could want in an assistant. She was just so quiet that I often didn't notice her until I needed her. But I could always count on her being there."

"That sounds just like her," Wendy remarked. "Just today when we were on our way here, we drove by her place just in case we could drop off Gos, and there she was, happy to help."

Noel nodded.

"Considering how reserved she is," Bill remarked, "it's a wonder SHUSH found her at all. I can't imagine her actively competing for the position."

Noel laughed. "No, you're right. And I must say, she was more shocked than anyone that she got the job."

"So how did she get it?"

Noel put down his empty mug and sat back, pulling a blanket around his shoulders.

For the first few weeks after I was out of the hospital, SHUSH would only take me back part-time. The doctors insisted I was given a lot of time to rest, even though I was getting stir-crazy just sitting around. Director Wakefield didn't even want me in my lab at first. My darling Gosalyn had convinced him I'd get too involved in my work and end up over-doing it. She never trusted my judgement when I was sick.

At any rate, as I said, my assignment was to find an assistant, so I went to the University of St. Canard. I had been able to arrange a working agreement similar to the one I had with Dr. Ardo. I would be the associate professor for a graduate student working on a doctorate, and in exchange I would have that student assist me in my own ongoing research and thereby pass on my knowledge of quacktron physics.

Being so well-established at SHUSH by then, it was hard for me to believe it had only been three years since I had left the university. I had already contacted my friend Donna Outarde, who was doing some research for SHUSH while teaching there. She had graduated the same year as I had, and in fact was one of the finalists for working on Dr. Ardo's project. SHUSH always took advantage of talented people who were willing to work for them, so even though she was not involved in the QPIT experiment, her line of research was just as intriguing. I found out later that she was the one to establish SHUSH's ongoing research into time travel.

Unfortunately I couldn't find her name on the posted office list.

"Noel?" I heard from behind me.

"Donna!" I went to greet her. "I was looking for your name, but..."

"You couldn't find it, I know. I've been married since - my last name's Bellum now."

"Congratulations!" I gave her a hug. "I'm sorry I've been so out of touch!"

"I guess that's what happens when you're in the thick of things at SHUSH, huh?" she said in a low voice so as not to be heard. "Just give me a moment." She turned back to another scientist who was holding the hand of a small toddler with a serious expression. I crouched down and gave the piglet a smile as Donna concluded her good-byes with her colleague. He rewarded me with a shy smile of his own and for an instant appeared to be a large banana. I stumbled back to my feet, breaking out in a sudden cold sweat.

"Come along, son," said the scientist, leading the once again plain looking child away. Donna turned to me and slipped her arm in mine. No one else had apparently shared my hallucination.

We began walking to her office. "So how have you been, Noel?"

"Fine ... yes - fine!" I looked back at the departing child while checking to see if anyone was within hearing range of our conversation. Still shaken, but satisfied that no one was near, I continued. "I hear SHUSH's got you on the payroll too."

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Actually being turned down for the QPIT project was the best thing that ever happened to me. My work is just fascinating!

"Anything you're allowed to tell me?"

She giggled. "No." She gave me a very satisfied smile. "How do you like that, Mr. SHUSH agent?"

I smiled back. "Just fine, thank you. I have loads of secrets I can't tell you either. So there!"

We went into her office laughing and closed the door behind us. She offered me a chair, which I took gratefully. I was feeling a little disoriented from my encounter with the child.

"It's a shame I've had to backburner it," she said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I remember what it was like to be overworked," I said, regretting the amount of work I had already missed due to my illness.

"In fact, it's a good thing you called ahead," she continued. "I was planning on spending my day off-campus on the new assignment."

"New assignment? Is the university shipping you off somewhere?"

"No," she said, somewhat surprised. "You know..."

I looked at her questioningly, but she didn't continue. "No, what?"

"Huh..." she mused. "I'm sorry, I guess you're not in on this one."

"Oh..." Of course that not only piqued my curiosity, it also made the disappointment of my absence from SHUSH all the more painful. Suddenly it felt like I had missed too much - that I was so out of touch that I had no idea what was going on. Unfortunately, I knew I could not ask her about it, and that even if I did, she could not tell me.

Donna knew what I was thinking, and began to look uncomfortable as the heavy silence filled the room. I quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and smiled at her. "So, have you got some candidates lined up for me?"

"Yes!" she replied, obviously relieved. "I have their files right here. You're very lucky actually. There are a number of promising candidates interested in pursuing quacktron work, but I've selected what I consider to be the top three. I've read their work and they've all made some very creative intuitive leaps on the properties of quacktrons." She handed me the files. "The first is Graham. He's done some fine research on possible applications for commercial chemical processing and explosives."

"Heh... I have a colleague who would like this one," I said, leafing through the information on him.

"Then there's Frankie. I don't know if her area of interest is really SHUSH compatible although she is proposing the use of quacktrons for her research."

"Oh really? Is it an unusual topic?"

"Creepy really. She's hoping to use quacktrons to reanimate biological tissue. It's a brilliant idea, but the glint she gets in her eyes when she talks about her work sorta frightens me."

"I'll... keep that in mind," I said suppressing a shiver.

"And lastly Sasha. She's a bit on the young side, but I think she's just as promising as the others." I opened the folder labeled "Sasha Darling" and glanced through the application file, noticing her age.

"Seventeen, huh? She must be a genius!"

"Oh they all are! Sasha was advanced through her regular schooling and began university here only two years ago. Now she's ready for the Ph.D. program."

"Wow! How has she handled the adjustment to university?"

"Pretty well, but I think her younger age has always made her shy. She's proposing that she can charge two objects which are separated by distance with an identical charge of quacktrons and then handle one remotely by manipulating the other."

"Really?..." I said, instantly fascinated. "How does she plan to do that?"

"Well... How about you talk to each of them? You'll get a chance to ask all the questions you want, and make your decision then." Donna stood. "They're expecting you."

"So Aunt Sasha's maiden name was Darling?" Bill asked.

"I think that's cute," Wendy said. "It suits her! Especially with those dimples when she smiles."

"She's probably blushing right now without knowing why," Noel chuckled.

"Come to think of it, I'm surprised at how many women scientists there were back then," Bill remarked.

"St. Canard was always a much more progressive university, and as one of the few leading female scientists, Dr. Ardo had used her tenure with the university and her connections with SHUSH to set up bursaries to encourage women in the sciences. Donna was a direct recipient of the Dr. Elizabeth Ardo Scholarship fund."

"But Dr. Ardo chose you as her assistant."

"I was, in her eyes, the right choice for the quacktron project," Noel said with no trace of modesty. "She didn't confuse the issues of gender and talent, but she did continue to encourage more young women to at least consider the sciences and a career outside of the home. That was probably why two of my three candidates for assistants were women."

"What were the interviews like?"

If I had to go on first impressions, I'm not sure if I would have hired any of them. Donna had kindly loaned me her office for my interviews, but Graham made me instantly regret accepting her offer. He entered the office out of breath from running, covered in some kind of goo, and leaving a trail of emulsion behind him. I tried my best to ignore this while I greeted him.

"Mr. Quacker," I said, extending my hand in greeting, albeit somewhat hesitantly. To his credit, he didn't offer to shake back, but flashed a charming smile and nodded. "Please... uh... have a seat." I was reluctant to let him sit in one of Donna's chairs. Obviously it showed.

Graham chuckled. "That's okay, I think you'd prefer me to stand. I have to apologize for this..." He explained that he had been experimenting on his own car with a crude quacktron-charged petroleum derivative and had only just discovered a major flaw on his way to the university, which unfortunately meant he didn't have time to clean up after it.

Despite his obvious brilliance, his somewhat kooky manner gave me misgivings. His ideas were wildly original - likely hazardous, in fact. I would never have considered trying any of them, knowing how unstable quacktrons can get in certain situations. Graham seemed to have no qualms about the direction his research had taken him, and certainly the discoveries he was making would be of interest to many. I made a mental note to suggest to Donna to reinforce the walls of the lab he worked in, and also to watch out for the company that hired him after his Ph.D. was completed. Actually, I wanted to convince SHUSH to hire him - in the wrong hands, his knowledge and... enthusiasm could be very dangerous.

By the time our interview was nearly over, we were cut short by the sound of an explosion outside. Graham looked at me and sighed. "That's probably my car," he said, and excused himself.

Frankie's interview was fascinating, although I could see what Donna meant. Frankie was really into her work. It was certainly ground-breaking research, but it was still disquieting. I admired her for her drive - she made it clear very early that she planned on making it as a female scientist despite the fact that there were so few. In that regard she reminded me of Dr. Ardo, and Donna for that matter. However as soon as the topic turned to her work her whole demeanour changed. She became very intense, and although I am embarrassed to say it now, I realized by the end of the interview that I did not feel entirely safe being alone with her. As I opened the door to see her out, I could tell she was still eager to talk. She looked me in the eyes invitingly. "Why don't you come up to the lab, and see what's... uh, you know, what's up there?"

"Thank you, Miss McWetland, but I have one more candidate to interview."

She shrugged and bent over to retrieve something she had left on the floor outside of the door during the interview. I realized with a start that it was a chain saw. She flashed me a sheepish smile. "Didn't want to make the wrong first impression, y'know."

"Of course," I managed to reply.

Having a little while before my last appointment, I decided to go down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. I can remember feeling drained, but I must have been more exhausted than I realized. On my way out of the cafeteria, cup in hand, I somehow collided with a young student carrying a tray. Hot coffee and the remains of her meal went flying through the air, the majority of which landed on me. We stood staring at each other in shock as her tray clattered to the ground. A pair of brussel sprouts retreated out the entranceway and down the corridor. I would have laughed but for the stricken expression on her face.

"I'm sorry..." I began.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking at the mess in dismay.

"Really, " I began again. "It's nothing. I'm sure it'll come right out." I tried to wipe some of the thick sauce from my jacket front. The action seemed to release her from her stasis.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" she said over and over, stepping around the puddles our collision had created while trying to assist me with paper napkins.

"There are fates worse than cheese sauce," I said, smiling at her. She froze at the absurdity of my statement and managed to give me a startled grin. "Much better."

"But your suit... I'm so..."

"It was an accident! Probably my fault, so it's only fair that I took the brunt of the spill." I smiled again, forestalling her next apology. "Are those your papers?" I asked, trying to deflect her attention from my dripping sleeves.

She looked down and gasped, diving for the sheaf of papers that lay in a puddle of coffee and brussel sprouts. She picked up the wet mass, holding it at arm's length as the coffee dribbled off. Her expression was one of resignation as she sighed and dropped it onto the tray with the rest of the mess.

"Was that important?" I asked.

"Probably not," she said quietly. By now a member of the cafeteria staff had come with a mop and the girl moved aside to make way. Feeling badly for her, I retrieved the papers from the tray to see if there was anything I could do to salvage them. The cover page instantly caught my attention. It read, "Proposal: Quacktron Physics and Remote Manipulation, by Sasha Darling."

I closed my eyes and sighed, smiling at the irony. Perfect. Somehow I didn't think Dr. Ardo had to go through this when interviewing her candidates for the QPIT project. I realized I was chuckling quietly when I looked up at the student. Her pained expression made it quite clear that she did not see the humour in the situation.

"Sasha Darling?" I asked her. She nodded. "I'm Dr. Waddlemeyer," I said, smiling broadly and extending a hand towards her. Sasha stared at my hand, her face filling with horror. "I don't bite," I said, holding my hand a little closer. This time she shook it. "Why don't we sit down and have a coffee? We can talk about your work here."

At first the interview was painfully slow. I suppose considering her nervousness and uncertainty, in combination with our 'introduction', it was a wonder I got anything from her at all. It wasn't until I started carefully leafing through the coffee-soaked papers that things started picking up. Her proposal was fascinating - an application of quacktrons I had never before considered. I had no end of questions, and that seemed to be exactly what was needed to bring her to life. By the time the interview was over, I had forgotten how exhausted I was and was dying to go back to my lab at SHUSH to explore some of her theories further. Of course I was immediately reminded of my condition as soon as I stood up.

"Are you all right?!" Sasha asked as the blood drained from my face and I slumped back into my seat.

"Fine... I ... yes fine." She didn't look convinced as I wiped the sweat from my face, and tried to ignore the spots that swam before my eyes. "I'm just getting over a prolonged set of infections, and I guess I've been pushing it today." Sasha stared at me for a moment, then went to get me a glass of water and a muffin.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked placing a napkin next to the water.

"Your nursing is appreciated," I said with a smile, taking a sip from the glass, "but unless you know a cure for an ear infection I'll just have to be a little more health conscious for the next while."

"Um... I could call my mom for some of her chicken soup?" she offered. "It's really good when you're feeling sick."

"Thanks," I said, trying not to chuckle again. "But don't go to any trouble on my account. I'll be fine. This is the first day I've really been allowed back to work and I guess I just skipped lunch out of habit."

"Well, if you're sure.... it's really no trouble."

I smiled at her again, and took a big bite out of the muffin she had brought me to show my thanks. She smiled hesitantly, then glanced at her watch.

"Please don't let me keep you," I said. "I'll be just fine."

"I'm sorry..." she began. "I mean... uh... I hope you feel better."

"Thank you, I will." I smiled reassuringly.

I could tell as she looked at the stains on my jacket, the soggy remains of her report, and my unhealthy pallor, that no matter how I felt about the interview, she felt it was a complete disaster. She suddenly became aware that she had been staring at me and I had been staring back at her, and somehow her expression became even more dismayed. Before I had a chance to say anything, she muttered another apology, turned and strode quickly away.

As I finished the water I thought more about Sasha's proposals from our interview. The more I thought the more excited and intrigued I became. It wasn't too late and my snack had more than revitalized me. I decided to head back to my lab at SHUSH headquarters to begin some preliminary work along her lines. Laughing to myself I realized that I had already made a decision as to my future assistant.

"AIYAH!" Gosalyn screamed in a loud battle cry as she kicked open the door to my office and catapulted herself onto the top of my desk, sending my papers flying. My chair slid back on its castors slamming me into a file cabinet and I stared in shock at the revolver aimed between my eyes.

"Noel?? What are you doing here?" she said, flipping the safety back onto her gun and holstering it. She sat down on my desktop and gave me a stern look. "Aren't you supposed to be at home resting?"

"..." I gasped, trying to forestall a heart attack.

"You look terrible," she said, her voice taking on an accusatory tone. "You really should be at home. You're as white as a sheet!"

"Of course I'm as white as a sheet! You just scared the tailfeathers off of me! What was that all about?!"

"You are not supposed to be here! It's late, I saw the light on, and I thought someone may have broken into your lab."

"It's not late, I only just got ... here..." My voice trailed off in wonderment as I noticed that the sun had indeed set and I had been working by a single desk lamp. "Well I'll be plucked," I said. "I could've sworn I'd only been working here an hour or so."

Gosalyn looked at me, not hiding her exasperation. "I bet you didn't check in with Security either, did you?"

"I've never checked in with Security when I'm just popping into my own lab!"

"I thought so. Noel, the rules have changed since you've been sick! SHUSH is not going to be compromised again. I thought you were Ardo ... I could've seriously hurt you!"

The legacy of Leon Ardo came back to me, and I realized how right she was. Now that my train of thought was broken I realized that I had skipped dinner, my shoulders and neck were stiff from sitting hunched over my notes for so long, and my head was beginning to swim again.

"You're right, Gosalyn. I'm sorry. I'll try to remember to be more careful in the future." I tried getting up to leave, only to fall back into my chair in a repeat performance of that afternoon.

"That does it," Gosalyn said firmly, getting off my desk, scattering my papers haphazardly onto the floor. "I'm taking you home, getting some food into you, and putting you to bed."

"You can cook?" I asked slightly dazed by the revelation, as she gripped my elbow firmly to help me out of my chair.

"When I have to," she replied with a grin.

I tried standing with her help, but succeeded only in dropping again, even closer to fainting than before. Gosalyn gasped, holding on to me until she was sure I could sit up on my own. She moved a little back, her eyes wide with concern. However in a split second, her temper suddenly flared again.

"Noel, I can't believe you!" I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision. I could just see the look of anxiety that was still on her face, belying her angry tone. "What do you think you're doing coming in here in your condition? Of all the stupid..." She swung around and took a few strides away from me, her arms tightly folded.

"I'll be okay in a minute," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. "Just let me catch my breath."

Gosalyn shook her head and looked at the ceiling, her back still to me.

"I am sorry..." I tried.

She exhaled heavily and dropped her hands. Turning to face me, her expression had softened, although the tension had not. "You want some water or something?"

"Sure."

When she handed it to me, our eyes met. I could tell that a lot more was troubling her than my carelessness or my state of health.

"What is it?"

She looked away for a moment, then back. "I think you'd better know something, Noel," she said solemnly. "There is a possibility that Leon might be back in town."

"Oh..." A sudden chill went down my spine, and I tried not to show the feeling of panic that suddenly gripped me. I was just as quickly hit with a sense of shame at my seemingly-cowardly reaction. Some SHUSH agent I was... I took a deep breath and forced a casual tone into my voice. "So, what makes you think that?"

"Well, hopefully we're over-reacting. You remember he was working for the fruit irradiating plant?" I nodded. "...and stealing the radioactive fruit to power his QPIT?"

"Right."

"Apparently while he was there, he was experimenting with the irradiation of vegetables as well. The people at the plant were appalled when they found out."

"Huh... I wonder why."

"We asked them, actually."

"And?"

"Well, they couldn't understand a need for radioactive vegetables."

"...But..."

Gosalyn held up her hand and shook her head. "Don't even ask. I gave up on them. Anyway, a bunch of these vegetables have gone missing."

"And you figure Leon stole them."

Gosalyn shrugged. "It's a possibility, at least. I know it's not much to go on, but it's better to be too cautious. SHUSH has all its scientists investigating the possibilities."

I forced myself to consider this news calmly. "It could be anyone, you know," I said, truthfully enough. After all, anything could happen, especially when you're dealing with radioactive produce. And the last thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of my life on edge because of Leon Ardo.

Gosalyn gave me a half-smile. "If it's not Leon, I don't think I want to know who else would want to steal irradiated vegetables." If that was meant to make me feel better, it failed. "Anyway, I think it's time I got you home. Can you get up, or am I going to have to wheel you out of here on your chair?"

"That won't be necessary," I said quickly, knowing full well that she wasn't joking. I downed the rest of the water, took a long breath and slowly stood up. "See? No problem." My legs felt weak, and I was still very light-headed, but I finally felt I could make it to the parking lot without any further humiliation. She gave me a sidelong look of skepticism before linking her arm around mine and leading me out.

As we checked out with Security, the guard on duty was embarrassed that I hadn't been spotted entering the building.

"Oh, Agent Waddlemeyer - since you're here, you might want this. It came this evening, but we weren't sure when to expect you." He handed me a small wrapped box. I opened it to reveal a covered bowl of chicken soup, and a note.

"Who's it from?" asked Gosalyn.

"Sasha!" I replied in surprise. "One of the interviewees from today, and I think the one I want for my assistant."

"Why is she sending you soup?" Gosalyn asked with an arched eyebrow and a broad grin.

"We literally bumped into each other in the cafeteria on campus this afternoon, right before our appointment, and I came out worst in the encounter," I said, pulling aside my lab coat and modeling the stains on my jacket for her.

"Very stylish," she murmured.

"When she found out who I was I think she nearly fainted. She seems a bit on the young side, but her proposals for quacktron developments are very original and exciting. That's why I came back to the office - to begin making some notes of my own on her proposal."

"Is that so?..." she asked, not hiding her mocking tone. I only sighed. "And the soup?"

"I kinda skipped lunch and... well... it showed when I nearly fainted. She offered to get her mom to make me some homemade chicken soup to help cure my ear infection."

"Do you mean to tell me that you've been like this since this afternoon and you still came in to work?" she asked angrily. "Noel..."

"Please, Gosalyn," I said, not having the energy to argue the point. "I was feeling better before I came in here. You have to trust my judgement, okay?"

"Oh, sure," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I had a sick feeling that I had not heard the last of this night. In fact, I was likely never to live it down. "Well I would very much like to meet this young lady and thank her."

"Thank her?" I asked, surprised. I was concerned that Gosalyn would see Sasha as partially responsible for my over-doing it. "For what?"

"Now that I won't have to cook for you, the odds of your feeling better tomorrow have just greatly improved."

As I got into her car, I realized I needn't worry about Gosalyn laying blame on anybody but me. Funny how that just made me love her all the more. I relaxed into the passenger seat and smiled at her as she drove me home. If Gosalyn was willing to banter, I couldn't be in that bad shape. I rolled down the window and tried to enjoy the late night summer breeze. Unfortunately I couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension I had at even the slightest possibility of facing Ardo again.

Wendy shivered. "I can't blame you, Dad. Just the thought of him..." She suddenly stopped short with a little gasp and looked at her father-in-law in distress. "Uh, Dad, you don't have to tell us this story, you know. I mean, if it's upsetting or anything. ...Are you feeling all right? Should you be going to bed?"

Noel and Bill looked at her, bewildered. "No, I'm all right," Noel said hesitantly. "Why do you say that?"

Wendy shrugged, looking nervous. "I don't know... It's just the last story... Well, Leon put you through a lot - I thought maybe if you're feeling sick already you wouldn't want to have to remember more of that stuff..."

He looked at his daughter-in-law suspiciously. "That's okay, Wendy. You needn't worry about that. I may not have known at the time, but let me just tell you now that it was not Leon Ardo."

Wendy smiled and sighed. "Well, I'm glad of that!"

"And one other thing - just like now, Aunt Sasha's soup made me feel a lot better."

"Ah, the first bowl of Aunt Sasha's soup," said Bill sentimentally.

Noel smiled at his son. "And it had that same odd lingering after-taste that I would learn in the following years was a trademark of a Darling family home remedy," he reminisced. "I was much more myself the next day... for all the good it did me."

"What do you mean?"

"Gosalyn had made me promise to take it easy, but untrusting as she was, she neglected to pick me up for work the next three days. My car was still at SHUSH, and I was stuck in my apartment. She knew I wasn't quite strong enough to walk or even take the bus all the way into town, and even trying to get to the university would be pushing it. So I had to content myself with making notes at home, and otherwise resting."

Bill and Wendy said nothing, but smiled knowingly, approving her tactics.

Noel regarded their expression. "It was very frustrating," he said defensively. "The least she could have done was give me a little credit..." He was interrupted by the telephone.

"I'll get it," Wendy said before Noel could reach for the receiver. "Hello?... Oh, hi Aunt Sasha! We were just talking about you... Yes, he had the soup. In fact, we all did..... Okay, just a sec..." Without warning, Wendy leaned over and felt Noel's forehead again.

"Hey!"

"Still a little warm, but better than before."

"I'm fine, Sasha!" Noel shouted.

Wendy grimaced at her father-in-law and plugged her free ear. "I'm sorry, what was that again?"

Noel turned to his son with a look of exasperation, but received only a shrug and an innocent smile.

"Actually I just asked him that and didn't get a straight answer. Let me ask again." Wendy looked at Noel. "Are you tired, Dad? Would you like to have a nap now?"

"Would it matter if I said no?"

"We're just talking quietly here," Wendy told Sasha, ignoring the sarcastic remark. "We'll be sure to send him up to bed as soon as he looks tired. Your soup has really helped."

"I can take care of myself, you know!" Noel called out again.

This time Wendy didn't protest. She only listened for a moment, smiling. "Okay, I'll let him know. Thanks so much, Aunt Sasha." She paused. "Of course, call back any time. Thanks again."

Noel looked at his daughter-in-law sternly as she hung up. "I swear it's a conspiracy."

"She was only calling to see how you were feeling, Dad."

"Was that the only reason she was calling?"

"Oh, yeah. She said to tell you that she was just following orders."

Noel's expression changed abruptly and he laughed out loud. "I guess she was," he said, shaking his head. "Just like her to bring that up."

I think Sasha was more than a little overwhelmed by her new position and responsibilities. At first she was hesitant to act unless she was told to do something, or unless I asked for her opinion. She was certainly capable, but she still lacked confidence, not trusting in her own talents. It didn't affect her performance, though, and by the middle of her first day we had already accomplished a great deal. I remember recreating the experiment that had inspired Dr. Ardo to formulate her theory of quacktron dynamics. It was exciting to watch Sasha's mind race ahead of the experiment, hypothesizing and drawing the same conclusions that Dr. Ardo had come to. We were so caught up in it that we hadn't noticed the day was more than half over. I leaned back in my chair, stretching to work out the kinks.

"You look pretty tired. Maybe you should call it a day," Sasha suggested hesitantly. "You probably shouldn't be pushing yourself."

"I'll be fine. I just need a cup of coffee to wake myself up." I noticed a worried expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I really do think you should be going home, Dr. Waddlemeyer. You look like you could use the rest."

"No, no, I feel fine," I said, suppressing a yawn.

"Please don't make me insist," she said in a quiet voice, almost as if it to herself.

I sighed. "I appreciate your concern, but..."

"You're going to make me do this, aren't you?" Looking even more uncomfortable, she said, "Dr. Waddlemeyer, I..." She hesitated again, then forced the words out with great reluctance. "I... order you to go home and get some rest... please."

I paused, amused at her choice of words. "You order me?"

Sasha sighed miserably, trudged over to her desk, pulled out a small pile of paper and handed them to me for my inspection. "I'm sorry, Dr. Waddlemeyer," she said. "I have no choice."

"What is this?"

"It's on page three, near the bottom."

I looked. "Wait a minute," I said incredulously. "This gives you the authority to send me home."

She nodded.

"According to this, it's your duty to send me home if you feel I'm endangering my health."

She nodded again.

"And if I refuse to go home?"

"Paragraph eight," she said in a small voice. "I have to call Security."

"Security?!" I looked, and there it was. "This is unbelievable! Why wasn't I notified?"

Sasha remained silent, but glanced over at the usual pile of notes, memos and forms which littered my desk. My heart sunk. I knew there was a reason I should have caught up on my reading sooner. Only three sheets down from the top was the memo in question.

"Gosalyn did this, didn't she?"

Sasha looked at me pleadingly. "She and Agent Hooter seemed genuinely concerned for your health..." she began.

"J. Gander?" I interrupted. "Great. There goes my chance at finding a loophole."

"It really is supposed to be for your own good. She told me you're likely to push yourself too much and get worse again. I trusted her judgement."

"And you don't trust mine?"

"Oh, of course I do!" she said, flustered. "Well, it's just that she made sure it was in my contract. I could lose my position if I didn't. We're both kinda stuck." She looked at the floor. "Please don't blame me."

My expression softened and I sighed heavily. "Don't worry, Sasha. I don't blame you. I can't blame Gosalyn either, actually. It's my fault for coming in here after your interview. I knew I'd regret that."

"Thank you, Dr. Waddlemeyer," she said, obviously relieved.

"How about a compromise?" I asked her, still hating the thought of having to leave my work halfway through the day. "We take a break for lunch, and then if I'm feeling weak afterwards, I'll go home without any argument."

Sasha grinned shyly at my suggestion. "I'll get my hat," she said.

"Noel! Sasha! Come join us!" I heard Gosalyn call to us as we carried our trays into the eating area. She and J. Gander were sitting among the remains of their own lunches, playing their daily game of cards. Getting up to meet us half-way, she blocked our path and looked at me closely, obviously assessing my condition. "I wasn't sure if you would still be here," she said, giving Sasha a suspicious half-smile. I noticed Sasha's stricken expression and cleared my throat rather noisily. Even if Sasha was starting to feel comfortable in her new surroundings, I wasn't sure how much of Gosalyn's sense of humour she could take.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked her challengingly.

She shrugged and looked down at my tray. "You're having coffee and a muffin for lunch?"

"Yeah."

Gosalyn rolled her eyes and sighed. "I have no idea how you plan to recover." I gave her a warning look, even though I knew it would have no effect. "Noel, I want you to go back and get something hot - with vegetables."

I still marvel at the amount of patronizing I would take from her. "Gosalyn..."

"Hey, Sasha," she said, suddenly giving her a knowing look. "Don't you think he needs something a little more nutritious?"

Sasha seemed to shrink, obviously not wishing to be in the middle of this. "Uh, I guess," she said quietly.

"See? You don't want to force her to order you now, do you?"

"Gosalyn," I warned. "That's not fair."

"Aw, she doesn't mind," she said, smiling at Sasha. Turning back to me, she surprised me with a hug. Her deep green eyes now looked into mine pleadingly. "I want you to get better quickly. You can't blame me for caring, can you?"

I looked down at her and smiled, hugging her with my free arm.

"I knew you'd see it my way," she said, keeping her arm around my back and taking my hand in such a way that I was forced to move exactly where she steered me.

"Gosalyn!..."

She led me firmly back to the serving area, smiling sweetly. "Noel, one thing you've got to remember about me... I always win."

A hot meal and several card games later, Gosalyn's spirits had dampened considerably. "But... I always win..." she was saying, staring with disbelief at the hand I had put down.

"I got lucky," I said sympathetically. "It can happen to anyone."

"I know that. J.G. has even beat me once in a while. But never five times in a row." She looked at me, confused. "You must have played that game before."

"No, honestly, I've barely ever played cards!" I insisted. That didn't help her mood. "I bet your game was thrown when J. Gander had to leave." Gosalyn just shook her head. "Maybe you're too preoccupied by your latest case."

"What case? Chasing down dead-end clues after some guy that's probably not even there?"

"Okay, uh... maybe if Sasha had played..."

"That wouldn't have made a difference. No, I just can't understand this. Noel, we have to play one more time."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Gosalyn. Like I said, I have too much to do. I can't spare any more time."

"Noel, you don't understand... You can't beat me."

"Why not?"

"You're... I mean... You've... You don't play cards!"

"Well, not much. I think I did learn 'Fish' when I was a kid."

"Then how did you do it?"

"I don't know," I said, now trying for Gosalyn's sake to figure it out. "It's just cards though. Four suits of thirteen cards each - ordered combinations of value sets... basic probability mathematics. There are only so many chances, given what cards I hold versus the cards you must hold. I had to make some elementary assumptions based on your character and how I expected you might play, but most of it is just math and numbers." Gosalyn stared at me with a look of intense frustration and I saw Sasha worriedly looking back and forth between us.

"Basic probability mathematics my tailfeathers!"

I sighed again. "Honestly Gosalyn. After spending my mornings chasing quacktron particles across cloud chambers it's a relief to only have 52 variables to work with!" I noticed Sasha's concerned expression and felt obliged to lighten the mood. I understood that Gosalyn's apparent mood swings could be unsettling if you didn't know her well. "It's probably a good thing Sasha didn't play or we'd have both beaten you!" I winked at Sasha and was relieved to see her smile behind Gosalyn's back. Gosalyn suddenly turned to face her and the smile vanished.

"Is he making any sense?"

She looked nervously at me, then back to Gosalyn. "Well he does have a good point, Agent McQuillan. We deal with higher mathematics all day. You see if you take each suit as..." Gosalyn held up a hand to forestall the math lesson.

"Just so long as someone else I trust understands him, I'll be content. For now at least." Gosalyn smiled so suddenly that Sasha was caught off guard and smiled back. I could tell Sasha was pleased with Gosalyn's comment that she trusted her. "Please don't mind me," Gosalyn said by way of apology. "I'm just a little competitive." I bit my tongue and she shot me a warning glance as if she read my mind.

"That's okay. I understand, Agent McQuillan."

"And call me Gosalyn," she added, knowing full well that Sasha was currently incapable of such familiarity. "Oh golly look at the time," she said reluctantly. "Gotta run. I'll see you later for dinner," she said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "We'll have a rematch."

"Phew!" I said as Gosalyn left the cafeteria. "I never realized she could be that competitive!"

Sasha smiled timidly. "Maybe it's because she and you are... involved?"

"I don't know if that's it," I said stretching my arms in a bone-popping exercise. "But I'm not sure whether or not that was a restful lunch break!" Sasha's expression took on a more serious look, as she assessed the truth of my statement and I immediately regretted my comment. I leaned across the table and patted her on the hand. "I'm fine, Sasha. Honestly. Let's get back to the lab."

"Oh... uh..." She looked at my plate.

I groaned inwardly, seeing the helpless look on her face. Alone on my plate was the large pile of peas from blue plate special Gosalyn had forced on me. "But they're squooshy..." I heard myself whining. Sasha's eyes were firmly averted, and I felt a guilty flush burning my face. "Oh, all right, " I conceded. "How about one big bite and then we'll go back to work. Okay?" She brightened and nodded.

Sasha gathered her plate and utensils and went to return them to the counter. I sighed again and looked at the pile of vegetables that seemed to swarm across my plate. I had been chasing food around them all during lunch without actually eating any. I picked up my fork again and began trying to scoop up a decent amount to honour our deal. The peas rolled around and around, refusing to balance on my fork. Finally in frustration I attempted to spear some directly and gaped as the peas appeared to separate and spread across my plate like a miniature Red Sea before a stainless steel Moses. I blinked several times and rubbed my eyes. I stabbed at the plate again, and again the peas neatly avoided my fork. Sasha came back to find me at the table staring at my plate.

"Maybe I should go home now..." I said in a weak voice.

I was feeling much better the next day, and had mostly convinced myself that my lunch time visions were simply the result of a prolonged convalescence. I only wish I could've attributed my skill in cards to it as well! Gosalyn just wouldn't give up. Within days we had exhausted all the games she knew and even some board games as well. I seemed to have a knack for competitions of chance and skill, and even though I didn't win all the time, she never seemed to be satisfied. Somehow she could not accept the knowledge that her experience could be so easily defeated by a mere 'beginner'. By the following week she had begun combing the libraries and book shops of St. Canard for card games with elaborate and convoluted rules. However, the more diverse the games, the better I seemed to be getting.

J. Gander, usually the epitome of tolerance, was now wondering how far this obsession of hers would go. He got his answer when she brought a carousel of poker chips to lunch. I was at a loss for words. Luckily J. Gander wasn't. "Really, Gosalyn, you can't be serious."

"J.G.," she admonished, "if I wasn't serious we'd only be playing for pennies."

"Gosalyn, I refuse to let you jeopardize your position by gambling in the cafeteria."

"Jeopardize what? Besides, the added incentive..." she fingered a pile of tokens meaningfully, letting the chips clatter among themselves "...ought to make this game really count!"

"Gosalyn..." J. Gander warned. For a moment it looked like she would continue to argue the point, but then she humphed indignantly. "For goodness sake, this all started when Noel won a few games of cards. I simply cannot understand why it is so difficult for you to accept his success. There was never a problem when I beat you."

"To hear Gosalyn talk," I pointed out, "it doesn't seem like you win very often."

"Nonsense. I've bested her handily on several occasions."

"So what is it?" I asked, turning to Gosalyn.

She shrugged. "J. Gander's my partner," she explained matter-of-factly.

We just stared at her.

"He's my equal."

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's not what I mean..." she said. "It's just - he's a field agent. He knows how to think on his feet. He knows how to be aggressive and take charge and solve problems on the go."

"And I can't?"

"Well, you're a scientist," she said, as if that explained everything.

I looked at her. "And that means..."

"It means you know how to be methodical and memorize facts and come up with new inventions - stuff like that."

"And that's not the same as thinking on my feet and solving problems," I commented indignantly, suddenly feeling a lot more competitive.

"Right!" She smiled, relieved that I finally understood her point.

I pulled out my wallet. "Okay, deal me in."

"Now just a moment you two, " J. Gander interrupted. "That's quite enough. Need I remind you that you are both professionals, and agents of SHUSH? That means both of you were hired for your exceptional minds. I am surprised at you Gosalyn for harbouring such prejudices against Noel. Of all the absurdities." I must admit that I was feeling especially vindicated at this point, and was enjoying J. Gander's lecturing of Gosalyn. I stuck my tongue out at her, which only made him turn his attention to me.

"And you are not much better, Noel. I thought you would have better judgement than to openly gamble for money here. Really, this childish rivalry is below both of you." He had a way of speaking that made me feel like an errant duckling.

J. Gander gazed at us sternly. "I have no idea what has possessed both of you, but I can see these competitions must come to a conclusive end before you both go too far. I put it to you. What will make you stop?"

Gosalyn and I looked at each other, speechless.

"Come now, surely there must be some way to put an end to this in a way that will satisfy both of you." I stared fixedly at the table top trying to avoid J. Gander's stern expression. The leftover cauliflower from my lunch seemed to be laughing at me, and I quickly focused back on J. Gander. I didn't want to lose another afternoon to hallucination!

"I know what will make me stop," Gosalyn said suddenly. "Noel losing." J. Gander was not amused. Neither was I. "Well, it's not like I want to win all the time... just most of the time."

"What would make me stop is a game in which Gosalyn and I are equally matched - something challenging. I would be happy to recognize the winner of that as the conclusive winner."

"That is a much more acceptable suggestion."

"Okay," said Gosalyn, thinking quickly. "I'll take that only if you chose the game, J.G."

Now J. Gander was truly intrigued. "Indeed..." He thought for a moment. "I would be delighted - on a few conditions. Both you and Noel must accept the game I choose without complaint, and I will be the sole judge of the outcome. The result will be conclusive, and it will end these obsessive competitions."

I could tell Gosalyn had second thoughts about her suggestion, eyeing J. Gander suspiciously. She must have been dying to ask what his challenge would be, so I didn't give her the chance.

"I accept!" I said with confidence, which forced Gosalyn to accept as well. Pride would never let her show weakness or doubt in her abilities. I smiled at this small triumph. Somehow Gosalyn had brought out a side of me that I never knew existed. Normally I would never be this competitive, but I felt it was my duty to ...enlighten her on the equality of scientists and field agents.

"Splendid. We concur, then," J. Gander said with satisfaction. "I will need a little time to prepare, but I assure you, this will be a challenge. Now, I wouldn't want to be restricted to the limited time we have at lunch. Is it acceptable that we meet after work at five o'clock tomorrow?" Gosalyn and I agreed. "Noel, will you be all right staying here after hours?"

"Oh, I'm fine, J. Gander. I've been staying late the last few days, in fact."

Gosalyn flashed me a look of exasperation, but J. Gander just nodded agreement. "We'll meet here in the cafeteria. Until then." He rose to his feet and left. Sasha gave us an apologetic look as if her presence there was somehow an intrusion. She took this moment as a good opportunity to head back to the lab as quickly as possible. Gosalyn and I were both understandably wary of the situation we were now in. The cauliflower was still grinning at me so I covered it with my napkin and tried not to think about it.

Wendy rose from her chair to fetch the tea kettle whistling in the kitchen. "Hold on a moment, Dad," she said.

"I hope it's not more of Sasha's home remedies," Noel said to his son, as Wendy moved about the kitchen.

"I heard that!" she said, sticking her head out of the doorway and winking. "You'll be relieved that it's just ordinary tea with lemon and honey." She re-entered the living room carrying a tray with a small teapot and three cups. Bill cleared some magazines from the table for her as she set down the tray and began serving them.

"Of course if you wish I could give Aunt Sasha a call ..."

"No! Please!" said Bill. "Then we'll have to drink it with him!" They laughed in mutual agreement as to the taste of Aunt Sasha's remedies, and sat for a few moments sipping their tea.

"You know," said Wendy placing her cup on the tray, "while I haven't known her as long as Bill has, I can't imagine Aunt Sasha being so timid and frightened."

"Hm, well I suppose it may look that way from my story," said Grampa Waddlemeyer adding some more honey to his tea. "But I wouldn't say 'frightened' is the right word for her at all." His spoon made soft clinking noises as he stirred and pondered how to best describe his once lab assistant.

"Certainly she was timid at the time," he conceded. "But that was her youth and the times we were living in. Besides, she was still getting to know us all and didn't quite understand where she fit into the whole equation. Also her research was only just beginning and she had no way of knowing whether or not it would bear fruit or lead to a dead end. However, I don't think she was ever capable of being frightened by anything! Surprised occasionally, but never afraid. She was and is a most unflappable person."

Gosalyn and I met together at the cafeteria the next day. Not surprisingly, J. Gander didn't make his entrance until the stroke of five. However, he did surprise us by having Sasha in tow with him. She was carrying a rather thick manual of some sort and cast apologetic looks our way as J. Gander approached. He had a pair of curious paddles, and with quiet ceremony, handed one each to Gosalyn and myself. They were about three feet long with a short handle and rather flat sides.

"Are we supposed to fight each other with these?" asked Gosalyn examining her paddle. J. Gander's eyebrows shot up over the remark and he chuckled.

"Good heavens, Gosalyn, no! I rather think you might indeed win out over Noel in that competition though. I don't believe combat is one of SHUSH's required training programs for scientists." He took us by the arms and began walking us out to the stairwell leading to the rear of the building. "These bats are for your competition. I've chosen a game rich with history and clearly defined rules. One that requires strategies as well as physical ability. You shall be playing Cricket!" Gosalyn and I looked at each other quizzically, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. However his expression was one of such pride at his solution that neither of us dared to ask him to explain further. With a gentle shove he propelled us to the stairwell.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked.

"In a few moments. I have to go don my referee togs. It will give you and Gosalyn time to review the rules and acquaint yourselves with the game." He gestured to the large book Sasha had been carrying and headed off towards the men's locker rooms.

"He's not serious!" Gosalyn said as we progressed outside. Sasha nodded silently at her.

"He expects us to read over that whole book in the time it takes him to change his shirt?" I gaped.

Sasha shrugged apologetically.

"So what does he expect of us?" I asked.

Looking at the book in her hands, Sasha sighed. "I don't think it can be a real game of Cricket with only two of you. I think he's worked out a short game."

"Cricket!" Gosalyn snorted derisively. "It sounds like we'll be hunting bugs! What sort of game is it?"

"Isn't it sorta like baseball?" I asked. Sasha shrugged again and looked with uncertainty at the thick book she was carrying. I couldn't imagine any rule book for baseball being so thick!

We pushed through the heavy doors leading out into the warm afternoon sunshine. I spread my jacket on the ground for the ladies to sit upon and we began to hurriedly skim the rules of the game. It was quickly apparent that Cricket was a game of convoluted play and only a lifetime spent learning the sport would give one any intuition about its progress. Clearly we would be unable to argue effectively against J. Gander's judgement and have to trust solely on his impartiality in the matter. I had to admire him for his cleverness.

Gosalyn was trying to clarify a point of interpretation. Sasha listened attentively but let Gosalyn carry the discussion. I looked up at the bright blue sky and let my mind wander. I could hear some distant commotion from the front parking lot echo to us distantly, but the clouds were so pleasantly lazy in their movements that I quickly tuned it out. The rear door banged open and I heard J. Gander's footsteps approach us over the grass and gravel.

I suddenly found myself in a shadow. There were no clouds overhead, and J. Gander was not close or big enough to cast it. I looked in his direction and stared open-mouthed as what appeared to be a giant broccoli, nearly as tall as SHUSH headquarters itself, rounded the building and headed our way. I shook my head and stared again. J. Gander was in the shadow of the building and gave no indication he was aware of the great green menace looming behind him. Gosalyn was still intently trying to absorb the rule book and was similarly unaware of the vegetable's approach. I thought I was going mad.

Sasha rose from her spot and walked over to me, also looking up. "Now there's something you don't see every day," she said, rather calmly. Gosalyn looked up at her, surprised that Sasha had actually initiated a sentence, but then jumped to her feet, staring in disbelief. I was just relieved that someone else was able to see the monster broccoli. With a single great stride, it entered the yard and stood among us menacingly.

Unperterbed, Sasha took a step towards it, obviously intrigued. "Whoops!" she said as the broccoli reached out with a large leafy appendage and snatched her from our midst. Gosalyn immediately flung the heavy book at the side dish gone bad, and J. Gander grabbed my cricket bat and ran for the base of the broccoli behemoth. I realized with revulsion that the monster had grown a face. It turned its glowing eyes to the diminutive figures attacking it and opened its sinewy mouth in a soundless roar before lurching off through the perimeter fence. Agents spilled out of the building and began firing at it.

"Hold your fire!" Gosalyn screamed. "It's got Sasha! It's got a hostage! Hold your fire!" SHUSH agents began trying to herd the beast back towards the buildings but it simply lumbered on past them towards the highway.

"What on earth is that thing!?" J. Gander asked for all of us.

"I'm relieved someone else can see it. I thought I was hallucinating again!"

"Again?" Gosalyn asked sharply. "And just how often have you seen vegetables walking around?" I explained my strange encounters with the peas, the cauliflower, and the banana boy.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" she asked angrily.

"And what would you have thought if I had?" I said. "No one else saw them! You probably would've had me confined to a hospital room!"

Gosalyn sighed at the truth of my words. "Probably a padded cell, actually. But right now we need to help Sasha!" Other agents had undoubtedly already left on the trail of the rogue cauliflower cousin and we stared at each other helplessly.

"First we need to get to the bottom of this!" I picked up my coat and dashed back to my lab with J. Gander and Gosalyn following. It took a little work to find someone knowledgeable, but we finally located Donna over at the Fruit Irradiation plant. With Gosalyn at the wheel we made record time.

Donna met us in the remains of what had been the Irradiating Facilities front office. Her hair was in disarray and there was an ugly bruise under her left eye. Smoke hung over the building like a storm cloud and the smell of boiled vegetables sat heavily in the air. I made hasty introductions and she began to fill us in on what had happened.

"We can't be sure even if it was Leon Ardo's fault!" she explained as she led us through the rubble to the interior laboratories of the building. She stepped carefully over the splinters of the door leading to the main Research and Development area.

"We know Leon was stealing fruit and supercharging it to use as a power source for his quacktron device..." Gosalyn said. Donna nodded.

"What we think he was doing now, was trying to grow larger and larger plants to use as greater power sources," Donna explained, gesturing to rows of plant boxes, now overturned and smashed. "This is where we think he had been hiding his work, and from where the broccoli came." Gosalyn and J. Gander began examining the leafy remains that covered the lab as Donna continued her explanation.

"At some point he must've switched to vegetables," she shrugged. "I expect he knew that sooner or later the missing fruit would have been discovered and his plans foiled," she said. I could see her hands tremble as she gestured again at the wrecked equipment. "He had hidden some of his effects here in the Research department. They were using low levels of radiation to test the viability of expanding their fields. Somewhere along the line he tampered with the results and the vegetables began animating themselves. We believe they've been escaping into the outside produce markets through the daily trucks that come to take away the fruit. ...Didn't he realize the dangers of irradiating vegetables?" Donna shook her head weakly. "The fool..." she muttered. I helped her to a chair that was not too badly damaged and let her rest. Gosalyn motioned me to over to where she and J. Gander had been talking.

"Do you understand any of this?" she asked.

"Some," I said. "I know the theory of course. I expect the over-radiated broccoli mutated and became animate in a very short time and burst out of the lab. Are there signs of any other vegetables?"

"Not apparently," J. Gander replied, dusting the soil from his hands. "I believe most of the vegetables either made good their escape at a much smaller size or were somehow consumed by the monster broccoli when it made its exit."

"So now what do we do?" Gosalyn asked. "Does she know how to stop it? Do you?"

"No...." I replied looking at the weary Donna, "but I think I know some people who might."

"It's ... it's beautiful!" said Frankie as she gazed over the freeway at the broccoli colossus as it lumbered through the city. "Personally I would've chosen to use something from the tuber family - potatoes or..."

"Never mind, Miss McWetland!" said J. Gander. "The point is do you have any ideas on how to stop it?" Using binoculars from our vantage point, we could see Sasha still in the vegetative clutches of the beast. She seemed unhurt though, so we allowed ourselves precious minutes to find a solution before calling for heavy armaments.

"Possibly. If its origin was caused by an excessive charge of radiation, as you believe, then some sort of bipolar charge could be sufficient to de-animate it."

"Except," interrupted Graham, "with that sort of charge you'd have free floating particles zinging off in every direction creating a bigger hazard than the one we've got now!"

"Okay, assuming we can't get this thing into a lead-shielded holding area, what else?"

"How about if the radiation were contained in some sort of medium?" said Graham.

"That would work!" said Frankie, picking up on his idea. "And you could probably reduce the strength of the ionic charges since you would be blanketing the broccoli with a static field rather than bombarding it with a photon beam!"

"So we need an emulsion of some sort..."

"Great idea, " said Frankie to Graham. "How did you ever think of that?"

Graham gave a lopsided grin and pulled a sealed jar of thick goo from his pocket. "We all need a hobby."

"But what can we use?" I muttered. "We need a lot of it, we need it fast, and it needs to be able to stick to broccoli."

Gosalyn turned to me from where she had been watching the broccoli. "How about a nice cheese sauce?" she said with a wicked grin.

While my initial reaction to Gosalyn's suggestion was skeptical, it didn't take us long to realize how right she was. By diverting several tanker trucks of milk from the nearby Dairy-Product Irradiating Project to surround the broccoli we had a large quantity of base materials to work upon. The radiation from a device which I would construct could heat and curdle the milk sufficiently to thicken it. It wasn't something you'd find on any menu, and it probably wouldn't smell very good either, but it would work. While the tankers moved into location I raced back to my lab with J. Gander and Gosalyn to fetch some equipment. Frankie and Graham went with the milk trucks trying to work out the formulas which would dictate the necessary radiation requirements.

"Are you sure this is all you'll need?" Gosalyn asked, as I flung components at her and J. Gander and then led them back to the car.

"This should do it. I need just enough power to generate the radiation and change the milk. I'm not having to build a ray gun or anything." I piled into the back seat of the car and pulled out a screwdriver from my tool kit. J. Gander and Gosalyn dumped their loads of equipment on either side of me and got into the front seat.

"Uh ... Gosalyn?" I asked waving at her in the rear view mirror. "Do you mind if J. Gander drives this time?"

"And just what's wrong with my driving?"

"Nothing! Except you do tend to be .... enthusiastic. I'm going to be building this thing on the fly and I could use a smoother drive for once." J. Gander chuckled at Gosalyn's reaction and gallantly got out of the passenger side to hold the door for her as they switched seats. I sighed inwardly, and began to work.

"So if that thing's not a ray gun, what is it?" Gosalyn asked as J. Gander drove us (smoothly) towards the monster.

"Actually, it's very similar to the device Leon used at the Fruit Irradiating Plant. I can attach this to each milk tanker and it will generate a controlled radioactive pulse that will shoot through the milk and charge it. The byproduct of the reaction is mostly heat, which will help curdle the milk."

"Won't that make it harder to hose down the broccoli?" she asked.

"Not if we act fast enough," I said. "If this works, our heated 'sauce' won't congeal until it's all over the broccoli. Hopefully that will stop it in its tracks."

"That only leaves us one problem - getting Sasha away from it before we cheese it."

The police blockade let us through easily, and I had just about finished constructing the pulse emitter. I glanced at Frankie's and Graham's equations, checking the basic math and trusting to their theories. A hundred things could go wrong with their assumptions, but we didn't have any more time to waste. A cordon had been made by three large tanker trucks of milk, and firehoses were being used to herd the broccoli in our direction. By all reports, Sasha had gotten a thorough wetting but was otherwise unhurt by the vegetable. Unfortunately we had a new problem. The broccoli had climbed a water tower and now was perched several stories above us, waving its tentacles at SHUSH helicopters which were buzzing around it. The whole scenario was taking on the atmosphere of a bad B-movie.

"I can't see that we have any choices left," Gosalyn began worriedly. "Will that radioactive milk harm Sasha if she gets coated too?"

"I'm less concerned about the radiation than I am of her being scalded by the sauce. Of course there is also the chance the thing will just drop her from up there," I said worriedly.

"I'm afraid we'll have to chance it and hope for the best," J. Gander said soberly. "At this point we just don't have any better options for getting her away from that thing."

Frankie and Graham abruptly stumbled into view supporting a third figure between them. "Sasha!" I cried, racing to help them. "Are you all right?"

Sasha nodded weakly. Her clothing was stained green from where she had been held by the prodigious produce.

"It just put her down! As gentle as anything!" said Graham, somewhat awed. "I wonder why it would do that?"

"It is broccoli after all," said Sasha as if that explained it all. We looked at her dumbfoundedly. "They're very understanding, for a vegetable that is... Broccoli was always my favourite in our garden back home." I shook my head and attributed her reaction to the traumatic experience.

I looked back at the other two. "She needs someplace safe to rest." They agreed and helped her to a nearby bench.

With Sasha out of danger, I quickly set the emitter according to Frankie and Graham's calculations and removed the precious sliver of eludium that I had brought with me to power the device. I rapidly charged each tanker of milk. J. Gander waved to waiting teams of firefighters to take up their positions with hoses that were now attached to the steaming vats of irradiated milk.

The leafy appendages thrashed ever closer to the buzzing copters and the firefighters consulted each other hurriedly on their expected range of spray before cutting loose. Soon a fetid cloying odor filled the air as gallons of curdling radioactive milk streamed out. Opaque clouds of mist blew everywhere coating buildings and cars.

"Ugh!" J. Gander said as we made a dash for cover behind the tankers. "I wish we had allowed for the wind!"

"Is it working?" I asked, mopping the sticky smelly spray from my face.

"I can't... wait! No! The monster is too far out of reach!" said Gosalyn peering out from between the tankers. "What's it doing?" she said, trying to pierce the gloom. A cut-off signal had been passed to the hose operators and we stood in silence as the mist of milk cleared. The broccoli continued to try and swat any helicopter that came too close.

"There's got to be a way to get it down!" Once the agents in the choppers noticed that it no longer had its hostage, they opened fire. The bullets struck the vegetable flesh with no effect.

"What was it you said earlier, Noel?" asked Gosalyn, her face tense with concentration.

"When?"

"When we were still worried about Sasha ... about the milk ....about - scalding! That's it! Can we use that emitter thing of yours to heat the water tower and throw that thing off?"

"Possibly .... yes, I'm certain I could do it. The pulse charge could certainly heat the tower, but by the time the heat travels the length of the structure, it might not be enough heat at the top to burn the thing. The water that tower is holding will probably absorb most of the heat."

"That's what I'm counting on!" Gosalyn flipped her radio to the pilot's channel and began issuing orders for continued fire at the top of the water tower itself.

"Just what are you up to?" I asked.

"I told you I could cook when I have to! You just get ready with that thing of yours." J. Gander seemed to have grasped her plan and smiled proudly at his partner. I was just beginning to realize what she had in mind. The gunfire continued for several long minutes as we took cover. Eventually Gosalyn received some report she wanted to hear from the pilots and the firing stopped. She looked at me and smiled. "Your turn. If I'm right you'll have to make a dash for cover because Broc there is going to come a-tumblin' down!" Her eyes were bright with excitement, and she gave me a quick kiss. "For luck," she said with a wink.

Returning the kiss, I then dashed across the open cover to the base of the water tower. I slapped my emitter onto the central pipeline leading up to the holding tank to which the broccoli clung and fired off a strong pulse of radiation. The metal beneath my device reddened sullenly and I turned tail and bolted back for cover.

"It's working! It's working!" Gosalyn cried as I reached safe cover once again. I turned and stared with the rest of them. Clouds of steam were billowing out from the gunholes that had pierced the top of the water tower, assaulting the broccoli like so many miniature geysers. As each blast of superheated water continued to hit the thing its hold on the tower became more and more tenuous.

"You're steaming it!" I exclaimed, in awe of Gosalyn's culinary inspiration.

"Yup! The gun fire turned the roof of the water tower into one of those - straining ... steam holder thingies." I laughed and didn't bother to try and correct her kitchen terminology. I was still surprised she even knew what a colander was.

"Stand ready!" shouted J. Gander, as the broccoli finally loosed its grip and plummeted to the concrete below. The firefighters once again opened their valves against the monster. The sauce flew heavily through the air, already having begun to cool in its tanks. It seemed to be enough however as the broccoli sank slowly to the pavement. The thick white liquid painted its huge form, and gradually even its viney limbs slowed in their twitching and lay still.

The milk trucks quickly exhausted their supplies of irradiated cheese sauce and the broccoli sprawled across the street before us. Gosalyn covered her nose with a kerchief. "Maybe we can get out of here now. This stuff stinks!" Special clean up forces moved in to begin mopping up the scene and a team of scientists from the Irradiating Fruit Project began examining the broccoli and deciding how best to dispose of the leftovers.

"Does anyone mind if I hang about?" said Graham, his eyes aglow with the joy of mass emulsion. I exchanged a mystified glance with Gosalyn and J. Gander and made our exit with Sasha and Frankie. Graham could be heard muttering to himself raptly, "Better than an explosion! Hot damn!"

Gosalyn smiled impishly at us as we approached the car. "So, J.G... Did I win?"

"No wonder Mom only served broccoli whenever it was her turn to cook!"

Grampa Waddlemeyer smiled at his son and nodded. Wendy retrieved his cup and set it down next to the now empty teapot. "Your mother never did tell me how she learned to steam vegetables, but there weren't very many dishes she could cook well anyhow. She stuck to the tried and true."

"Aunt Sasha certainly did come through that ordeal smoothly," Wendy said with admiration.

"She was more upset about being ordered home the next day for a rest," Noel said. "But I think she was worried she might have done something to jeopardize her position with us. Once she realized that we were simply looking out for her well being, she went home. I think after that she started loosening up a little and began enjoying her research position with us."

"What about Frankie and Graham?" asked Bill.

"Oh they had already caught SHUSH's attention when I interviewed them for a position. Their additional involvement then only cemented their future prospects. I think that helped Sasha as well, realizing that there were no lingering resentments from her fellow candidates about her getting the position. Besides, that was not the last time I shared some interesting times with those characters."

The phone rang and Wendy rose gracefully to answer it.

"Oh hi, Aunt Sasha. Hm? No, we'll be leaving soon. Dad was just telling tales on you." The rest of the conversation got lost as Wendy moved into the kitchen out of hearing.

"We should be going," said Bill, rising from his chair to collect their coats. "I'm sure Aunt Sasha will need rescuing from little Gos. Besides, we've kept you from your rest long enough."

"Oh I'm fine," said Grampa Noel, rising from his chair. "Aunt Sasha's family remedies pack a wonderful punch. I'm sure I'll be much better tomorrow."

"I'm a little frightened at the prospect of all that radiation flying about the city!" said Wendy, entering back into the conversation. She placed the phone back on its rest and gathered her coat from Bill. "Radioactive fruit ... radioactive vegetables ... radioactive milk being sprayed all over a city block! It sounds frightening!"

"We were rather naive about radiation back then," agreed Noel. "However, we learned from our mistakes and there doesn't seem to be any lingering effects. It's not as if the city is awash with super powered mutants or anything."

Bill laughed abruptly at his father's comment and then composed himself. "Er... sorry," he grinned sheepishly. Wendy kissed her father-in-law on the cheek and the two of them left. Bill lingered a moment outside the apartment, letting Wendy get a few steps ahead of him. He stared at his hand and concentrated. There was a brief flare of power and suddenly he was holding a chunk of aged cheddar. Guiltily he popped it into his mouth and skipped ahead to catch up with his wife by the car.

"Well, that explains that," he thought to himself as they drove off into the night.