The Amazon Experiment (5 page)

‘Oh, great.'

For the second time that day Max found herself standing in front of the Wall of Goodness. She looked across at Irene, who was holding the canvas bag that had held the new sample, and knew it was the only way to the Plantorium from the kitchen.

Here goes another wasted clump of my life, she thought, as she stood in front of the Wall and waited for it to be difficult.

The goo process began and Max, Linden, Steinberger and Irene became quickly enveloped by a sensation not unlike being dipped in lumpy custard.

And soon after, as Max expected, the Wall started being difficult.

‘Oh no,' Irene gasped. ‘I've made the Wall have doubts about letting us through, haven't I?'

‘No,' Linden jiggled. ‘It's Max. She and the Wall have this special relationship they've developed over time.'

Max tried to frown at Linden but the wall gurgled around the edges of her face, mushing it into all sorts of squished shapes.

Then, in a mass exit, all four of them were enveloped into the Wall's structure and spat out the other side into the Plantorium. They all quickly
found their balance, but Linden noticed something strange about Max.

‘Is it just me or do you seem shorter all of a sudden?'

Max looked down and saw she'd landed in a shallow swamp, completely soaking her recently mopped shoes. Everyone else, of course, had landed comfortably dry.

‘You're going to get it, Wall,' she warned, lifting her feet out of the squelching muck.

Max was about to say more when she saw Steinberger becoming increasingly nervous. Each step he took became an exercise in finding the ground without stumbling or tripping over. He began talking to himself, softly, repeating something over and over. Max, Linden and Irene realised he was practising saying hello. He brushed invisible lint from his suit and smoothed his eyebrows with his fingertips.

‘I feel terrible about what's happened.' Irene wound her fingers into the knit of her jumper. ‘Look what I've done to Steinberger.'

They watched as Steinberger spiked himself on a blackberry bush. The prickly branches caught on his jacket and the more he tried to unravel himself, the more tangled he became.

‘It's because he's about to meet Frond,' Linden explained as he went to Steinberger's aid.

‘Do you think so?' Irene's memory skipped back to the time in the canteen when Steinberger had tipped a whole pot of beetroot soup over himself after Frond had walked up to him and said hello. ‘I guess it could be that, but I still feel bad. I'd never do anything to harm the Force.'

Max felt her back stiffen. She knew Irene felt low, but she also knew it was time for a good talking-to. ‘Remember the time I received a parcel from Spyforce that had been bugged, and how it almost led to the infiltration of Spyforce? I felt really bad too, but in the end it was Blue's malevolence that was to blame, not me, and noone blames you here either.'

Irene offered a small smile as she dragged her feet across the meandering, moss-covered path. Linden had managed to untangle Steinberger, who had briskly walked on ahead through the increasingly winding paths of the Plantorium.

‘Max is right, Irene,' Linden smiled.

‘Of course I am,' Max said in a softer voice. ‘Noone doubts your loyalty to the Force, Irene. Ask anyone around here and they'll tell you, Spyforce wouldn't be half the place it is without you.'

Irene's legs jellied at Max's comment. ‘Thank you, Max. I …'

A panicked scream rustled through the Plantorium, followed by a muffled call for help.

Max and Linden spun towards each other. ‘Steinberger!'

They ran past snaking plants, frothing ponds of piranhas and plumes of prehistoric palms until they found him. Irene's hands flew to her mouth, Max's flew to her hips and Linden stared. This was not what they were expecting to see. They all blinked to check that it was true.

Steinberger was being mauled by a giant plant.

Frond appeared from behind a jungle of huge fern leaves in her long red coat and beehive hairdo.

‘What happened?' Worry rippled in her voice. ‘Steinberger?'

‘I'm afraid so,' Linden said.

A giant, bulbous sack at the end of a pond-dwelling plant was munching on Steinberger's head and shoulders, while the rest of his body poked unceremoniously into the air.

‘What is it?' Max asked.

Frond pushed her rose shaped glasses along her nose and fished through her lab coat for a small glass jar. ‘It's a giant Utricularia vulgaris. An
insectivorous plant more commonly known as a bladderwort.'

Linden's face screwed up. ‘With a name like bladderwort, it can't be good.'

‘Normally it's very good,' Frond added guiltily. ‘But with all that's been going on, I forgot to feed it today. They're usually much smaller but we've been cultivating this one for years using a special fish fertiliser and it's just … blossomed.'

Frond opened the jar, which let out a pungent dead animal kind of smell.

Max held her nose. ‘What's in that?'

‘It's ground-up pieces of … actually, it's not important what it is. I explained the ingredients once before and it ended up in a bout of unexpected fainting.'

Frond waved the jar around the plant. Its long, skinny branches slowly uncoiled from Steinberger and he struggled free of its feeding bladder, which left whitish, dripping globs of plant gunk all over him.

Max and Linden helped Steinberger to stand. He pushed his soaking hair out of his face and tried to straighten his plant-globbed suit.

‘I'm sorry, Steinby. Are you okay?' Frond winced as she surveyed his upper body.

The look of shock on Steinberger's face at almost being eaten by a giant bladderwort was replaced by a crushing look of awe.

‘You're not hurt in any way?' Frond fed the bladderwort some bugs from her pocket. The plant immediately started to digest the bugs, far happier with those than the humany taste of Steinberger.

‘I … it's … you.' He closed his mouth, deciding it was better that way.

‘Why don't we go to my work area?' Frond suggested. ‘We can take care of you there and I can look over the sample and tell you what I discover.'

At Frond's work area, Max and Linden helped Steinberger out of his soaking jacket and into one of Frond's lab coats. A bright red one with lady beetles on it.

‘I … it's … you.'

‘Thanks, Frond.' Max was keen to get beyond Steinberger's stuttering and onto Frond's testing. ‘Irene has the bag the sample came in.'

Irene stepped nervously forward, as if she'd just been summoned to the principal's office. Frond smiled at her warmly. ‘Thanks, Irene.'

Frond took the canvas bag and cut a sample small enough to fit on a microscope slide. She
placed the slide under the lens and examined it closely. It looked like a completely normal mixture of spices and herbs, so she turned on the heat ray of the microscope. Now she could see traces of something more sinister.

‘There,' she announced with a mixture of joy and trepidation. ‘The blood parasite that causes the sleeping sickness.'

‘That's excellent!' Max's shoulders fell in relief. ‘Now you can work on creating the antidote Finch needs to wake the agents from their sleep.'

Frond went on staring into the lens of the microscope before slowly straightening up. ‘I'm afraid it isn't that easy. From what Finch has told me, the parasite is carried by insects found in parts of Africa and South America. There's evidence here that this is the South American strain of the sickness, which is carried by the triatoma bug, also known as the kissing bug.'

Steinberger's small yelp at the mention of the word ‘kissing' was met by a withering look from Max. ‘Sorry,' he mumbled.

‘Let me show you.' Frond turned to the computer beside her microscope and within seconds had an image of the bug on her screen. ‘As you can see, the triatoma has a dark
brown, flattened body with six reddish spots circling its wide abdomen. It has an elongated, cone-shaped head with elbowed antennae and a prominent beak.'

Linden remembered back to Finch's diagnosis. ‘But I thought Finch said the disease is caused by the
bite
of the insects?'

‘Normally it is, but in this case …' and here Frond's voice became edged with amazement. ‘The sample has been infused with some kind of dormant or sleeping parasite. It's like nothing I've ever seen before.'

‘So …' Irene was desperately trying to piece Frond's information together. ‘When I added the sample to my food, the parasite woke up and put everyone to sleep?'

‘That's how it appears.'

‘Oh, it
was
all my fault.'

Linden looked firmly towards Irene. ‘No. The fault is someone else's and Max and I are going to find out who. Right, Steinberger?'

‘Ah … I … you.'

‘Linden's right.' Frond offered Irene a smile that was like rich chocolate sauce but had the effect of ripping the floor from under Steinberger's feet. He stumbled against the desk, unsettling a
stand of test tubes and beakers that his lanky arms scrambled to rescue.

Max was almost out of patience with Steinberger's lovesickness. She turned to Frond. ‘So can you make the antidote?'

‘I would need the pure form of the parasite to do that.'

‘And all we need to do is get hold of the triatoma bug so you can extract the parasite?' Linden queried.

Max felt her shoulders tense again. ‘Yeah, that's all.'

‘At least we've narrowed down our search,' Frond said, trying to be optimistic.

Max wilted. ‘Yeah, to the entire continent of South America.'

Just then a great crash echoed around them. Max turned around to see what damage Steinberger had done, but this time it wasn't him.

‘Irene!' Linden ran to Irene's side and lifted her head from the cold floor. ‘Irene, can you hear me?'

She didn't move.

‘It must be the sleeping sickness.' Frond used her palm computer to contact Finch. ‘I'll get someone here immediately to take her to the infirmary.'

Linden stroked Irene's pale face, desperate for her to wake up. ‘Please be okay, Irene,' he said in a frightened whisper. He sniffed back a burning tear and stared helplessly at her limp body that looked like all the life had been drained from her forever.

Max and Linden walked down the corridor to Quimby's lab. They'd just left the infirmary, where Irene lay still and barely breathing, caught in the clutches of the sleeping sickness. Max stared at Linden as his feet thudded dully against the floor. She remembered the time in London when he had told her about his mother dying of cancer. He had the same look on his face now as he had then. She hated every second of that look and tried to think of something that would take it away, that would make him feel better, that would …

‘It's okay, Max.'

‘Sorry?' She hadn't expected him to say anything.

‘I know you want to make me feel better about Irene, but you don't have to say anything. She's going to get better. I know it.'

How could he do that? How could Linden know exactly what she was thinking?

‘Yeah. She is.' Once again Max had to put up with her mouth saying something dull when she wanted it to come up with something great.

Max and Linden had received a message from Harrison to get equipped by Quimby for their mission. They were going to the Amazon to find the triatoma bug.

‘Ah, Max and Linden. We don't have much time. I've been given the brief by Harrison and I've assembled a range of devices that will be essential for your mission. This is the Hypnotron.' Quimby held out something that looked like a marble. ‘Simply aim and activate it by squeezing. After thirty seconds your captive will be rendered hypnotised and ready to tell you anything you need to know. The hypnotic state ceases when you deactivate the device, or after a certain programmed amount of time. Now, don't forget,' Quimby surveyed the agents with a careful eye, ‘you must not use the Hypnotron after your Spyforce business is complete. Spyforce equipment must only be used in the line of duty, otherwise we are in danger of becoming like the criminals we fight against. And then where's the difference?'

‘No problemo.' Max tried to be chirpy for Linden's sake.

‘Here we have the Mini Transporter Capsule, one for each of you.' She held out two matchbox-sized cubes. ‘It is based on Francis, Ben and Eleanor's Matter Transporter and is capable of transporting small, delicate objects through space. Place the triatoma bug in here as soon as you find it, enter the destination into the keypad on the side
and off it will go. We have already lost precious time and any more time lost may have devastating consequences, so I recommend you place them in your pockets for easy access.'

Max and Linden did as they were told.

‘I have also packed the Abseiler, which comes equipped with a safety harness and the new and improved miniature jet propulsion capsule for climbing over long distances. Where you are going is difficult terrain. You'll come across mountain peaks, impenetrable jungles, vast rivers and swamps. I've also added super-grip gloves. They're perfect for climbing mountains, scaling buildings or clinging onto fast-moving objects.'

‘What does this do?' Max held up a can that said ‘Bug Repellent'.

‘Repels bugs.' Quimby tried not to sound too obvious. ‘A must to ensure you're not bitten when you find the triatoma. The repellent is completely non-toxic and is made from Frond's best plants in the Plantorium. As is this.' She reached for a small cloth bag sitting on the table. ‘This is a bag of Animal Dispellers. It contains sachets of powders and sprays that will ward off most of the animals that you …' Quimby looked like she was trying to find the right words. ‘That you may come across.'

‘What kind of animals?' Max asked warily.

‘Oh, you know, the usual South American kind of animals, but I'm sure —'

‘Such as?'

Quimby took a deep breath. ‘Jaguars, pumas, snakes, alligators, piranhas —'

‘Actually, Quimby,' Max interrupted, ‘I think that's all I need to know for now.'

‘These are super-tough covers for your palm computers. After Max's broke in the Nightmare Vortex, we knew we had to toughen them up.' Max and Linden took a transparent sleeve each and tucked their computers into them. ‘They are waterproof, shockproof, and will withstand the most incredible pressure.'

When Quimby turned to outline the final articles in their packs, she momentarily lost her balance and fell against the bench.

‘Quimby?' Linden sprang forward and caught her, but just as he did, he saw it. The terrible grey pallor of the sleeping sickness. ‘You've got it, haven't you?'

There was a pause as the scientist got her breath back.

‘I'm afraid I have.' Her voice was small.

‘We've got to get you to Finch's infirmary.' Max
was frightened at how many agents had caught the illness.

‘I've sent word,' she breathed. ‘His assistants are on their way.'

Quimby turned away. Max didn't know what to say. As yet they only had a treatment from the Plantorium that could slow down the symptoms. No-one knew if it was possible to create an antidote in time to stop the sleeping sickness from becoming fatal.

‘We'll find the antidote, Quimby. Trust us.' Max offered her a confident look.

‘Yeah, and besides,' Linden added, ‘we can't let anything happen to you because then we won't have anyone to equip us for our missions.'

Max smiled. Even when Linden was scared, he still knew exactly what to say.

Quimby appreciated Max and Linden's courage. Her smile was weak, worn down by the sickness and the grave spectre facing Spyforce. ‘Finally, I've included your lasers, invisibility cream and antidote and super-concentrate food capsules which have all the goodness of a wholesome, organic meal.'

Finch's assistants arrived and carefully placed Quimby on a stretcher, but before they carried her away, she looked at the two eager agents before her. ‘Good luck and come back soon.'

Max and Linden watched as she was ferried down the corridor, both knowing that not only her fate but that of the whole of Spyforce rested entirely with them.