It was a warm, bright, cloudless day, which is why Peter "Devil" Tamorelli was staying inside. His huge leather La-Z-boy had him locked up, and he lacked both the energy and the inclination to rise from it. He was watching one of the Mission Impossible movies, and shaking his head to himself. How could anyone just out and say a mission was impossible? It was poor branding, not to mention defeatist. Peter had no time for such pessimism.
As he shook his head, his hair flopped from one side to the other. It had been weeks since it had been necessary to keep up physical appearances--Stella Kleintorbogen had dumped a collection of well-deserved vacation time on him, and after a collection of missions neither impossible nor very easy, he'd decided to take it.
The phone rang. It rang again, as was its nature, and it was about to follow up with a third ring when Peter picked it up. "Peter here."
"Peter, Oliver." Peter's partner, Oliver "Thing" Estrada was a man who got to the point, whether that point was mental, as his test scores showed, or physical, as the many scars on his body showed. "I hope the vacation's been good, but you'll have to cut it short. We're short-staffed at the moment, and the ma'am has asked us to take on an important mission."
Peter perked up. His hair, sensing excitement, wrung itself tight and pointed itself at the ceiling. "The Egg?!"
"The Egg!"
Both men cheered.
"Report in tomorrow, bright and early," Oliver went on. "I'm sure you know how important this mission is. To us, and to the world. The whole world."
"Even adorable puppies up for adoption?"
"You know I don't joke about adoption puppies, Peter!" Oliver took a moment to compose himself. "The mission will be difficult-"
"Impossible?"
"Of course it won't be impossible. That's defeatist talk, Tamorelli, and I won't have it. I look forward to seeing your nigh-indestructible stubble! Oh, also, I finished your book."
"The author puts forward some interesting situations, doesn't he?" Peter asked, gazing at the gap in his bookshelf.
"Indeed. However, he fails to answer the question the title poses and, I'm afraid, I still don't know what we're going to do about all the bugs."
"It's a conundrum," Peter said. "To tomorrow!"
Then, tomorrow, which Peter realized was actually today, he and his partner stood shoulder-to-shoulder (though more accurately shoulder-to-elbow, such was Oliver's unfortunate height) in front of Stella Kleintorbogen, with a long table between them. She, as always, was the picture of professionalism, if someone had doodled on it a bit.
"Gentlemen! Glad to see you back, Tamorelli. You've grown your hair out. It looks nice."
"Compliment acknowledged, ma'am!" Tamorelli said, hands clasped against the small of his back and feet spread.
"The world is in crisis, gentlemen." Stella said. She clicked a button on the remote she held, and the projector flashed an image. It showed what appeared to be an image of an every-day major city. Cars drove, pedestrians walked. A dog was wagging its tail. A cloud rolled across the sky. "As you can tell from this image, it's all gone pear-shaped." Both men nodded, mouths in grim lines. Stella clicked another button and the image zoomed in, showing a shadowed wall of a skyscraper with a spray paint tag of an egg. "The mark has been seen all around the world, from north-Egyptian sand dunes to Antarctic ruins. What does it mean? Who has been making it?"
She shrugged. "We don't know! But one man does." She clicked a button and the image changed to a picture of a man with wide-rimmed glasses, thinning hair, and a mouth pulled down as if by hooks. "This is Miami Hammerston, and his relentlessly memorable name belies a man who likes to take it easy. One day ago, he contacted our headquarters and revealed he knows why The Egg has been appearing all around the world, and who is responsible. However, he fears for his life."
"A smash-and-grab, ma'am?" Oliver asked.
"No, there's no way you're going to be able to exit the city without getting caught up in something much bigger, so you might as well just get it all done at once."
"Economical. I like it."
"You are not alone on this mission. Danielle 'Bynes' Spencer and Luke 'I Hate Star Wars' Punchinelli are your backup team. It's a shame both are in the hospital."
"We can handle it, ma'am!" Peter said.
"That's what I like to hear, Tamorelli. Estrada!"
"Ma'am!"
"I'm making you de facto leader on this mission until Tamorelli gets his spy legs back. Tamorelli."
"Ma'am!"
"That is not a literal statement. Please do not come back with a pair of legs, whether attached to a body or not."
"I appreciate the clarification ma'am!"
"Are there any questions?"
Estrada raised his hand, and Stella pointed at him. "Ma'am, we don't know where we're going yet."
Stella nodded. "As well you don't. Keeping Miami's location a secret is of the utmost paramount, and so you will be shipped to the city he resides in with your eyes covered and your geolocators turned off. It will be your responsibility to find him, deal with whatever troubles you will undoubtedly find yourselves in, and then return to base, with Miami intact. Do I need to define intact?"
"No ma'am!" both men said.
Stella nodded, and snapped her fingers. The projector turned off, the lights came on, and a man appeared next to her. He had a shining-white lab coat, stuffed with pens. With a quick move he adjusted his glasses, leaving them in the same place they had been before. "Gentlemen, R&D officer Radzmaratz."
"I have some things for the both of you," Radzmaratz said. He took the two of them in. "But I bet just by being in the same room as you two they're already broken or lost."
"I have a masters in mechanical engineering, sir!" Oliver said.
"If that's the best I can get." On the table between them, he placed two pens. Peter grabbed one, his smile showing through the thin veneer of responsibility.
"Oh, what does it do? Laser? Explosive? Sleeping darts? No, wait, something else. Aha, it transforms into a juice bar!"
Radzmaratz slid two forms across the table. "It helps you sign things. This form says you will not allow those that have not signed the form to handle the items to be provided. By me. To you. Understood?"
Peter was drawing a flower instead of his signature. Oliver had printed his in block letters, though he had made some spelling mistakes. Radzmaratz whipped the sheets off the table. Peter made a dismayed sound. "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get. Gentlemen, say hello-" e revealed a small metal orb "-to the maximizer."
"Hello to the maximizer!" It doesn't matter which of the two agents said this. Radzmaratz let the metal orb roll across the table, until Oliver stopped it. The short man picked it up and surveyed his reflection in it, picking something out of his teeth.
"The maximizer is a special device that utilizes quantum differences." He paused, expecting a question. To his surprise none came, and he looked down the table to find Peter and Oliver both gazing at their reflections as Oliver held the orb between them. "Ahem. The 'quantum differences' are universal divergences between metaphysical...actuations that search for...similar quarkian setups and embiggen...what are they doing?"
Peter and Oliver were spinning the orb on the table, playing a game with rules, points, and victory unknown but to the two of them. Radzmaratz cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should put it through some more testing."
Stella shook her head. "Those two will test it harder and faster than anyone in your lab. Please, continue. It doesn't look like they're listening, but they are."
Peter cheered, victorious by some means. Oliver laid his head on his arms and wept as if viewing the simultaneous birth and marriage of his first child.
"Of course." Radzmaratz removed two pocket-sized books from the cart he had next to him. "Now, these books contain a number of functions you will find useful in the field. They are communicators--between each other and headquarters--as well as camouflage devices. You can both appear to be house marms reading a trashy romance novel, should you wish." Oliver and Peter, their full attention on Radzmaratz once more, nodded. "The novels are tuned to be different books by penny-dreadful extraordinaire Paige Turner, featuring busty femmes, shirtless hunks, and flowing hair in realistic percentages. I had the boys take a study of the novels available at the local shops and libraries, and found most covers have a-" He looked up from his notes and found, instead of the two agents, two middle-aged women, one taller with spiky hair and one shorter with a thin moustache, reading novels.
"No, Radzmaratz, it doesn't need any more tweaking. I think anyone named Oliver Estrada will have a thin moustache, no matter what sex they are." Stella snapped her fingers, and the crisp sound brought the two agents out of their intermission. "Gentlemen, please pay attention. The longer we tarry here the more danger Miami Hammerston is in."
The agents deactivated their disguises. Radzmaratz adjusted his tie. "There are a number more uses, all of which you can find in the contents page of the book, near the front. Finally, we have this to offer you-" Radzmaratz revealed huge weapons, gleaming with chrome and bristling with a number of attachments. An arc of lightning jumped from one prong to another, and a canister hanging under the barrel vibrated, full of angry bees. "I call it the Exasperator, and- Oh, they've gone."
"A few minutes ago," Stella said, packing her things away. "It's best this way. If we made them stay here and listen they would just get tired and fall asleep. They're sort of like children in that regard, but more destructive and more likely to soil themselves."
Their helicopter approached a non-descript city. Neither could see any buildings distinct enough to tell them which city loomed on the horizon, but they agreed whichever one it was, it loomed with the best of them.
"It's like Chicago, and a nice twist of Toronto." Oliver rubbed his chin. "Do I detect hints of Berlin?"
"Yes, it has an excellent forebode." Peter rubbed his chin as well. The sound drowned out the chopping rotors. "It reminds me of Johannesburg. Do you remember when we-"
"Of course I remember. I was finding pudding in places for weeks. Which is odd since we never encountered pudding on the mission. You know, from this angle it appears to be rather Shanghai-esque! Certainly not big enough."
"Not big enough indeed. Ready to go?" Peter asked. The helicopter lighted upon a building and disgorged the two agents, dressed in comfortable pants and shirts. The blown air from the helicopter gave them a chance to practice cinematic poses.
"Step one," Oliver said, as they descended the stairs inside the building. "Find Mr. Hoositz. Step two: Stop whoever from getting to Mr. Hoositz until we stop whoever from doing whatever. Step three: Enjoy ourselves a beverage from out portable juice bar." He patted the pocket where he had stashed the pen from Radzmaratz.
"I think his name was Hoover Jaguarpuncher. He sounds like top-quality agent material," Peter said. They reached the ground floor and excited into the non-descript sunlight. A non-descript person passed them by. After a moment of smelling the non-descript air, they set out in a non-descript direction.
"Now then. Lightning Spaceunicorn is in hiding, so if we go in hiding, it should be easy to find him. What's an easy way to go into hiding?" Oliver asked.
"I've always preferred murdering a few folks, sending a few cryptic messages, then disappearing forever, to inspire movies and urban legends," Peter said. An old woman, overhearing, shot him the evil eye, and he waved back, smiling. "What about a hijacking, and then bailing out over the Ozarks?"
"It's classic, but we have a deadline. What other options?"
"What if we look in that building over there?" Peter pointed over Oliver's shoulder at a building with no defining features, save a blue egg spray-painted on one side. "Completely run down. Perfect place to hide out."
Oliver nodded, and they waited for the traffic to abate before heading the building, kitty-corner from where they had emerged onto the street. The door inside was locked, and they discussed options for entry until Peter spotted an open window about fifteen feet up. The men looked at each other and nodded. The mission had begun.
Peter linked his fingers together into a step, and Oliver fit his shoe in. With a grunt, Peter sent the smaller man flying toward the gap. With a smash and tinkle, Oliver gained entry into the building. Peter leaned against the door and whistled one the approved inconspicuous tunes until Oliver cracked the door open. Peter tumbled in. "We have a bit of a situation."
"We're prepared for everything!" Peter announced, following Oliver into the building. "I was not prepared for this."
Surrounding the two men was a waist-high crowd of penguins. They stood in a wide arc, motionless and staring. Oliver counted thirty-six. Peter made a quick estimation and found there were six dozen.
"Well, it's only an estimate," Peter said when Oliver pointed out the obvious. "What are they all doing here?"
"Penguins lay eggs, don't they?" Oliver said. "This whole thing is about an egg." He swept his hand across the collected birds. "We've probably just found the secret to the whole organization!"
"It all makes sense now!" Peter said. He let his fist pat into his open palm. "The organization has been poaching and smuggling these rare creatures to utilize their magical powers. They could easily conquer the world with the firepower they have assembled here alone!" One of the penguins squawked, and Peter shied away. "What if they have other collections of penguins in other, more recognizable cities?"
"Then we are well and truly fouled," Oliver said. He took a look around the building, finding nothing more than pillars holding up the distant ceiling and dust bunnies big enough to get lucky feet from. "Doesn't look like Typhoon McMountain is here. Should we call this in?" He took the multi-use book from his pocket. Peter had vanished, and Oliver spun in a circle until he found the man cradling one of the penguins like a swaddled babe.
"They're so cuddly! Can we keep one of them?"
"Only if I get to keep one too!" Oliver said, wading into the pile until he found one who was gazing up at him with a familiar intensity. He put his hand down for it to smell. "This one reminds me of my sister."
"It has her nose," Peter said. "I've named mine Raymond. After the penguin constellation."
"I think I'll call mine-" Oliver made a quick undercarriage check "-Olivia."
"Shall we?" Peter asked. He held Raymond's flipper. Oliver nodded, and the four of them went back to the street.
They toured around the city for an hour, getting themselves some ice cream and buying hats for the penguins which read "I <3 City." They continued to see the emblem of the egg--spray-painted on the sides of buildings, appearing on billboards for a split-second, even appearing on the clothes people wore. They took note of everywhere they saw it, trying to find a specific pattern.
With the penguins as bait--both for people who wanted to see the animals closer, as well as police--they took the chance to ask if people know of a man named Pulse Kitchenutensil. Nobody had ever heard the name. They continued on, taking in the city's Middle Park and Federal Pier. Peter asked if they could take a boat to the jail way out in the lake's bay but Oliver was reluctant.
Finally they found the sun going down, stretching the skyscraper shadows across the crowded streets and sidewalks. The penguins, now bearing shirts ("Sports team rules"), ran to and fro, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Yet still they had not discovered the hiding spot of Punches Firebolt.
"He's a wily one," Oliver said. He fed Olivia a corn chip. They sat on a bench by the river. "I feel like we've looked everywhere."
"There must be somewhere we haven't. Remember, it's always in the last place you look," Peter said. Raymond was draped across his lap, and Peter was rubbing the penguin's stomach. It made a content noise. Peter began rummaging in his pockets for something to free them from the bind. "Maybe that pen-"
His hand brushed the smooth metal orb Radzmaratz had given them, and he suddenly found himself under a ten-foot penguin. It squawked--birds lifted off for miles around. "Raymond! You've had a growth spurt!"
"I think it was that thing the guy gave us," Oliver said. He looked up at the penguin, who was glancing around, tiny baseball cap perched on the tip of its head. "Perhaps we can use this."
"We're smart men." Peter said. "There must be some way to find Texas Lovinggood with this. Maybe we could get a poster."
"That wasn't his name at all," Oliver said. "It was Florida Bonemaster." He turned his gaze away from Peter and his egregious penguin, and found a confused, agog crowd had gathered.
"No, no. It was Memphis Readyton." Peter snapped his fingers to try and get Raymond's attention. Tattered shirt bits floated onto him.
"Miles Overshoulder."
"Metal Screwcertain."
"Miami Hammerston?" a voice from the crowd asked. Peter and Oliver glanced toward it, and found a man who looked just like the picture Stella had shown them pushing toward the front of the crowd. Wispy hair, thick, goggling glasses, and a chin not likely to appear in the Olympics.
"That wasn't it."
Peter and Oliver stayed silent, perplexed. The name wouldn't come to them. The man looked from one, to the other, to the huge penguin, to the smaller penguin at Oliver's side, tugging on his hand and pointing with her other flipper at him.
The crowd had long dissipated before Peter finally popped his mouth open and pointed a finger at the man. "You! It's you!"
"It's me. You two are from the agency?"
"Yes! That's us. From the agency." Oliver said. Olivia squawked. Raymond also squawked, but it was at too low a register for the human ear. Cats, cows, horses, guinea pigs, elephants, ferrets, and goldfish for miles around turned in their direction. "I'm glad we finally found you."
"So am I. Can we go now?"
"Go?" Peter asked.
"Yes, go. Leave. Exit."
"Big vocabulary, this one," Oliver said. "No, it isn't worth trying to leave."
Miami looked from Peter to Oliver. "Why not?"
"There's no way we're going to leave the city without something happening to us--you know, mechanical troubles, a ninja attack, some emergency," Peter said. "It's more worth it for us to just sit a spell and wait it out." He shrugged. "Keeps us from getting tired."
"What was that last one?"
"An attack. By ninjas. Oh I hope it's ninjas."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Miami asked. He seemed unsure how close he could get to Raymond. The penguin was enjoying its new found ability to see over trees, but wasn't very aware of the strength of its flippers.
"Sir, please, we're professionals," Oliver said. He looked at Raymond. "I wonder how big penguins can get."
"Does this thing shrink, too?" Peter wondered, holding the metal orb up. It went off, barely missed Raymond, and struck a bird in the air. It became the biggest sparrow ever, unnoticed by any one of them.
They waited for a few minutes. Peter expressed his hope it was ninjas, and not something boring like they had encountered when investigating Sluudge, the mad slug lord.
"Imagine a thin, gooey layer across the whole city," Oliver said, moving his hand to cover everything in front of him, "annoying but not really any bother."
"I had to use peanut butter to get it out of my hair. Barely worth getting out of bed," Peter added.
A few minutes later, it happened. None of them noticed at first, but it became hard to ignore once it got to be about a dozen.
"What did we tell you?" Peter asked Miami, as the latter wiped egg off his shirt. "It was bound to happen."
"Who's throwing all of them?" Miami asked. An egg nearly hit him in the forehead. Instead, it passed right over and hit Raymond, who barely noticed.
"Vagabonds! Ruffians!" Peter said. An egg got him in the back of the knee and he toppled over. "Iconoclasts! Pirates!"
"Be nice," Oliver said, as Peter popped up. "They're people too, even if they are throwing eggs at us. How would you feel? They're probably just doing their jobs, want to get home to their kids for a hot burrito and a soda."
"You're right," Peter said. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to hurt any feelings! We'd appreciate it if-"
The egg someone had landed right in his open mouth cut off the rest of his words. With him out of commission, an unseen signal directed all of the flying eggs at Miami, who suddenly found himself sodden with yolk and shells. He hid behind Raymond, and the sudden attack roused the penguin. He glanced in the general direction they were coming from.
One of the eggs, a wild throw with a hefty amount of English on it, struck the cap from his head. His eyes narrowed.
"Sic 'em, Raymond!" Peter said, having finally coughed the egg out of his throat. The penguin was all too willing, and waddled forward, his silhouette blocking out the setting sun. They heard frenzied shouts and the sounds of many eggs hitting an unyielding surface. Peter, Oliver, and Olivia charged after the super-sized Spheniscidae, with Miami trailing after them, trying to keep egg off his khakis.
They caught up to Raymond and found him sitting in the middle of the street with no egg-throwing assailants in sight.
"Invisibility shields?" Oliver wondered, he looked around. Peter started to clean off Raymond, who had amassed splattered eggs up and down his wide front. "Getaway drivers?"
"It could be any of those people!" Miami said, pointing at the cars and pedestrians near them, none of whom could tear their eyes away from the sight of the gigantic penguin covered in eggs.
Oliver cleared his throat and raised his hands. "Nothing to see here people, please move along. Official business."
As one, the crowd shrugged and continued their commute. Just another day in City. Oliver turned to Miami. "It's time to start talking, Megatron. Just what do you know about all this egg business? What's with the pictures we keep seeing? What does it have to do with the penguins? And so on." He affixed a stare on Miami.
"We need to get somewhere safe first," Miami said. "Somewhere we can all fit."
"I know I've gained a few pounds," Peter said, still cleaning his ten-foot penguin, "but I've been on vacation. Isn't that allowed?"
"Peter is still well within the official bodular guidelines, Mephistopheles. But I understand your concern. To a hideaway!"
Oliver seemed to know where he was going, so Miami didn't ask questions. They got him nowhere, anyway. They got to a poorly-lit construction site and hunkered down in the pit in the center. The sun continued setting--it had a schedule to keep, you see. A bunch of thrown eggs in a non-descript city weren't going to stop it.
This was Peter's train of thought as the five of them gathered at the bottom of the pit. Oliver held Olivia's flipper as the penguin settled in. She seemed sleepy.
"We need answers, Mr. Thunderpants," Peter said. He pointed a finger. "Better start supplying them."
"To what?"
"What?"
"Answers to what? I don't know what you want answered yet!"
"Oh." Oliver cleared his throat. "First off, why don't you tell us what your middle name is?"
Peter looked at the man, eyebrow raised and ready. "Galactic," Miami said. "Miami Galactic Hammerston."
Oliver forged ahead. "Next, what can you tell us about all the eggs? We see them everywhere." Peter nodded. "How big is the organization? What is their end goal? What does it have to do with the penguins?"
Olivia squawked.
"They're international," Miami began. "They must number in the thousands. Tens of thousands, perhaps. And they all have one goal in mind."
Peter, Oliver, Olivia, and Raymond leaned closer. Miami cleared his throat. "I don't know what it is though."
"Any details? Anything at all?" Peter asked.
Miami brought his eyebrows together, trying to remember. "Well, I know for a fact it has to do with making sure a lot of people have seen the emblem of the egg."
They nodded together. Classic evil organization tactics. "Second, I know there's a lot of them."
"I see. Interesting." Oliver pursed his lips. "Please go on."
"Finally, I know they're international."
"It all makes sense now," Peter said.
"We'll have to act fast," Oliver said, rising. "We may not have much time left."
"Where do we look first," Peter asked, also getting to his feet.
"The tallest building in the city, of course. It's only natural. Captain Puddingsphere, you've spent time in the city...which building is the tallest, and will we be able to get to the top of it?"
Miami scanned the dark skyline. Buildings were beginning to burn with lights. "There, that one." He pointed at a sharp, elongated pyramid. "The Main Street Spire. Tallest, and with plenty of empty space."
Peter and Oliver nodded at each. Things were going quite well indeed.
"On this kind of mission, a number of things can happen," Peter told Miami as they walked. Oliver and Olivia led, while Raymond followed them, slow waddles keeping up easily. "Usually there's some sort of device at the top of the building, which will be very near to activating. There's some data on activation time, but I don't have it with me." He reached for his pocket. "I could ask headquarters, but I bet they've all gone home by now. There will be a ringleader we'll have to defeat, and a sultry female accomplice who will try to turn one of us to her side."
Oliver looked over his shoulder. "Traditionally Peter has been the one to pretend to betray me, but sometimes we mix it up."
"There may also be a mutated animal-" Raymond, emitting a booming squawk, stopped Peter in his explanation. "Please, Raymond, I'm trying to speak. Vats of acid, lasers...it's all very by-the-book so far. There is a script for these sorts of things."
"What if things go a way you aren't expecting?" Miami asked. Peter shrugged.
"Sometimes things go off the rails! Oliver, do you remember when General Jade didn't try to explain his whole plan before offing us?"
"Not very sporting of him, I remember that. He was just going to slowly lower us into a big vat of acid, and not even have the decency to explain why he was doing so."
"How did you get out?" Miami asked.
"Firstly, we had to crack the code on the handcuffs," Peter said. "Easily done."
"The key helped," Oliver said.
"Next, it was get out of the cage. What we didn't know was there were also sharks."
"...in the acid?"
"The rare and deadly Mongolian acid shark. Only twenty in the world, and this monster had two!"
"He captured them from their native acid pools and used them as personal garbage disposals!" Oliver made a fist; the tendons in his arm stood out. "It was a trial, and we didn't escape without injury, but we made it out."
"Who got hurt?"
"I did," Peter said. "Lost my foot." Miami glanced at Peter's two whole and undamaged feet. Peter noticed. "I got better."
"We used the chain to climb over the acid pool and land on the side," Oliver said, picking up the story without missing a beat. "General Jade didn't expect one thing."
"What?"
"A swift punch in the throat!" Peter said, jabbing forward. "Took him right out. You'd be surprised how many evil masterminds would rather wear a black turtleneck than tactical armor."
"A lot of them would have won if they'd taken proper steps," Oliver said.
Speaking of proper steps, they made their way up the many cement steps in front of the Main Street Spire. The huge building disappeared in the sunless sky, tiny red and green lights blinking at the top of its radio tower. Oliver opened up the door and walked in. They found it quiet and empty. A row of elevators was along one wall, stairs along the other, an unmanned security desk was in the center. Potted plants, benches, garbage cans, and lamps stood around the big center room.
After they pulled Raymond through the revolving door, they took a breather. Peter reached a hand up toward Raymond's head, measuring. he looked at the gleaming metal doors for the elevators, then back at the penguin. Then back to the elevators, then to the penguin again. He nodded.
A few minutes later Oliver hit the button for the tenth floor, range of motion in his arm severely limited. He shifted and accidentally elbowed Raymond's gut. Raymond's beak, right next to Peter's ear, squawked, and the entire elevator cab shook as they moved.
"This wasn't a very good idea," Miami said.
"Now Geronimo, do you know the first rule of improv? Never say 'no.' Will our enemies be expecting all of us in this little cab? No. Is it very comfortable? No. Will any of us die, or any of us not have a fun story to tell at dinner parties? No."
Olivia, squished against the cab doors by Raymond's bulk, squawked. It was muffled.
"The old girl's right," Peter said. "This is much faster, and will help us find our enemies before they have a chance. Why, I'm sure we'll give them quite a shock when we come shooting out of here, guns blazing!"
"I don't have a gun," Miami said.
"Neither do we." Oliver shifted. "More fun that way."
"What are we looking for?" Miami asked. His foot was up by his waist. "Something in particular?"
Oliver shrugged, or at least attempted to. "We'll know what it is we're looking for when we see it."
The elevator dinged, and the doors squealed open to reveal six masked men, moving heavy equipment with wires, digital panels, and rows of buttons. All six of them, and the five in the elevator, stared silently, not moving.
Finally free of the elevator's crushing influence, Olivia shot forward, catching one of the men in the chest and punching him against a wall. The penguin tumbled forward and made another man drop whatever bulky item he carried.
"That's the way!" Oliver shouted, and he came rushing out of the elevator, releasing a pent-up karate scream. "KYYYYYYYA!" He caught one of the men in the throat and quickly spun, sending his shoe shooting out at another. Peter followed him and tackled the man Olivia had knocked into, getting him back on the ground. Miami was ejected from the elevator and found a quiet corner to watch the fun. Raymond squeezed through the small opening as the doors tried to close on him, and swept one of the masked men to the ground with one mighty flipper. Only one man remained standing. He dropped the thing he carried--it crunched to the ground and emitted a spark.
He hunched and brought up his hands into fists. Peter and Oliver had him surrounded. Olivia came to her talons behind him, and the ever-sloshing bulk of Raymond the incredible ice bird was in front. The man spotted Miami, clearly someone who was not interested in getting in a tussle, and sped for him. He wrapped and arm around Miami's neck before anyone could stop him.
"Don't you come no closer!" he shouted. "Or this man gets his neck snapped!"
Raymond, in the shape of a huge ball, crashed into the man and Miami. "Penguins are the best!" Peter said, quickly, jumping on the man. Oliver found ropes and ties to contain the other masked members, and lined them up against a wall.
"Now then! Here's how things are going to proceed. I will ask a question. Then, you will answer it. Have I made myself clear?"
A few of them muttered. "I can't hear you!"
None of them said anything. "Seems to be in order. First question: what are you doing bumbling around here at night? Someone could get hurt!" The man Raymond ran flattened groaned. "That isn't the answer I'm looking for."
"You'll never get anything out of us!" one of them said. "We ain't gonna squeal!"
Peter chuckled, arms crossed. "We have ways of making you talk." A pause hung between them. "Please?"
Raymond squawked, and the low reverberation the sound made made all six men turn toward the penguin. The man the penguin had squashed spoke up. "If we don't do what they tell us we get...egged."
The other five men, who had all turned to stare, shivered and looked away. The man clamped his mouth shut, staring at the floor. Oliver and Peter exchanged glances.
"Didn't we just get egged?" Miami asked. "Like an hour ago?"
One of the men shook his head, swinging it from side to side. "You had eggs thrown at you. You weren't...egged."
The six men shivered. Miami scowled and bent to look at one of the devices the men had been carting. "Okay, so someone told you do to this. What is this?" Oliver asked.
"Movin' stuff."
"Granted. What's the stuff?"
"Things."
"You are being very unhelpful," Oliver said. "Raymond?"
The penguin lurched forward, and all six men cried out, seeing in their short future a sudden lack of width. "Stop, stop, we'll talk!" The penguin stepped back again, his beak curled into a frown.
"Much better. Answer me now these questions three, and maybe once again the light of day you will see: Who are they, what are these things you're carrying around, and what are you doing with them?" Oliver pointed at the man on the end of the row. "You."
The man gulped. "The Egg Society. Even we don't know they end goal--we promised! We get phone calls, or texts-"
"I once got a carrier pigeon," one of the other men said.
"I get messages from them on AIM."
"-And then we do what they ask. For most of us it was just putting up pictures of eggs everywhere. Spray painting, hacking into billboards, posters. Suddenly tonight they have the six of us pick up these big machines and bring them in here. They promised the building would be empty."
"And so it was. You." Oliver pointed at the next man. "What are these devices you haul?"
"We don't know! Really!" The man shot a glance at Raymond, who cracked his bird knuckles. "They just look like big servers!"
"I think I might be able to figure out what they are," Miami said. "I deal with computers a lot."
"What do you do?" Peter asked.
Miami placed his fists on his hips. "I'm a systems administrator!" He hunched over, caressing his fingers along one of the machines. "They not just servers, they're also transmitters--they contain a great deal of information and are able to send it out wirelessly."
"In English, please, Ornstein."
"That...that was in English." Peter and Miami looked at each other for a second. "I really don't know how to dilute it any further."
"Perhaps one of these fine gentlemen can shed some light on it," Oliver said. He pointed at the third man. "What did The Egg Society tell you to do with these devices?"
"Go to the roof, hook them all up, connect them to the radio tower, and leave."
"Is that really all? Doesn't seem very much like a grand plan to me." Oliver pointed at the fourth man. "Does it seem very much like a grand plan to you?"
"Er...no?"
"As I thought." Oliver brought Peter, Miami, and the two penguins in for a huddle. "Well men-" Olivia squawked. "-what's our next step?"
"I can try and take these things apart and see what kind of information they're built to distribute," Miami said. "It might tell us where it originated, or what the goal is."
"I say we make for the roof and investigate the radio tower," Peter said. "Something may be up there."
"Both good suggestions." Oliver peeled away from the group, and pointed at the fifth man. "What do you think is the better idea?"
"I think going up to the roof has a better shot at yielding quick info, the man said. "The servers may not be accessible unless you have the right tools or passwords."
"What are they going to find up there?" one of the other men said. "A detailed plan? We were just going to go up there and hook some stuff up, then head down to the bar. It isn't like we know any more than they do right now."
"No, I think they have the right idea," the first man in the row said. "Thematically, it makes more sense. A high zone, blowing winds, hints to a big conspiracy--action is better than sitting around in those kinds of situations."
They all looked toward the man on the far end, the one Raymond had struck. "What do you think?"
"I think they left a few minutes ago."
"You'd think we'd learned our lesson before," Miami said, face pressed into Raymond's back.
"That's the best part of doing this job," Peter said. "No need to learn anything!"
"Besides, it worked out in the end, didn't it?" Oliver said. He had a bit of breathing room, though Miami's foot was in his gut. "We turned an elevator into a mobile penguin cannon!"
Olivia squawked, but nobody heard the sound. She was somewhere under Raymond's wing.
"You know I'm sort of surprised this elevator goes right to the roof," Peter said. "Seems like there would be some security risks."
"We may not know all the details." Oliver shifted, trying to free his foot. "Maybe the building is closed off to the public. Our friends from downstairs did say The Egg Society promised them an empty building. Maybe they also made the elevators go everywhere."
The elevator chugged, groaning toward the top of the building. Olivia, after a few minutes of struggling, popped free and stretched out atop Raymond's bulk before easing onto her behind. She gave a tiny, penguin yawn which quickly spread throughout the elevator and led to an incredible vacuum when it hit Raymond, just as the elevator doors opened. They made a tired, flat ding, as if the speaker had little energy.
The group of them squeezed their way out of the small opening, spilling out across the wind-swept top of the huge building. Raymond moved across the rest of them, flattening them like a rolling pin over dough. The penguin came to rest by their heads.
"Ah, so nice of you to join us."
Peter and Oliver looked up. Miami was groaning and gazing at his leg, mangled at the knee and shooting off in a random direction. They found an elderly man wearing a turtleneck and leather gloves, and a woman dressed in a crimson evening gown, long legs exposed to the gusting winds at the top of the building. She also had black stiletto heels, and an onyx choker around her throat. her long hair interrupted her burning eyes. She started forward, modeling herself, and drawing closer with lengthy steps. Peter and Oliver both jumped to their feet.
"It's my turn," Oliver said. "You had Madam Firewind."
"It's my turn," Peter said. "Madam Firewind is a married woman and you know it. You had Alisandra Jetsetter, and the Senatrix before her."
"The Senatrix barely counts," Oliver said. "She just wanted to talk about special interest groups. I think it may have been innuendo but I wasn't sure."
"Shoot for it."
Both men threw rock three times in a row, and then realized the woman was helping Miami to his feet. Peter nudged Raymond. "Some guard penguin you were." The responding squawk made the building shiver.
"Gentlemen, thank you for finally reaching the pinnacle," the man said, having watched the whole affair. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eggbert. My lovely companion is Ivy Hammerston."
He waited, teeth shining through between his cracked lips, watching for the shocked expressions. Peter tilted forward, expecting more words. Oliver peered around Raymond, who had risen to a sitting position, still taller than Oliver.
"Perhaps you...recognize the name?" Eggbert asked. Peter pursed his lips and shook his head. Oliver coughed slightly. "Hammerston? Miami Hammerston?" Still neither of the agents caught his meaning. "The man you've been with for an hour and a half?"
"What?" Peter looked at Miami, who was leaning on the woman and slowly extending his knee back and forth. "His name is Opratic Cannonfire."
"Nuh-uh, it's Ringo Hawkwind."
"Peter, Oliver," Miami said. "This is my wife, Ivy. It's how I got involved in all this business."
"Halberd! You're married? Mazeltov!" Peter said. "You should have let us know, we would have gotten you something!"
"We've been married for over ten years," Ivy said. Peter and Oliver both found themselves somewhat drunk as soon as she spoke. "It's all my fault you've gotten hurt."
"It's just a knee, honey. It isn't like I was headed to the Olympics anyway."
"You might have torn something. We should...hello? Ouch!"
Olivia had wandered up to the couple, and pecked at Ivy's exposed thigh, drawing a bead of blood. "Olivia!" Oliver shouted. "Be nice!"
The penguin narrowed her eyes and pecked again. The woman shouted and took a step backward, leaving Miami without support; he again found the roof a necessary place to lie.
"I'm sorry about this," Oliver said, taking Olivia's hand. "We just got them...haven't had time to give them much training...she seems to be a bit emotional at times."
Raymond picked up Eggbert, gripping him around the ground and neck, and tossed him against the radio tower, making it waver and shake. "Here now!" Peter said, striding forward to tap the penguin in the chest. "Calm down, there's a script for these things! We need some information before you start throwing people around."
"SQUAWK."
Peter's vision shook. "Yes, I know, I know, it seems that way, but we have to do our due diligence."
"SQUAWK?"
"Yes, of course. It's one of the agency-approved methods of non-violent execution. Just try to get him in the middle of the street. Don't hit any cars or people, or it's a lot of paperwork for us."
"If I may interject," Eggbert said, firing a long tube weapon. An egg the size of a basketball impacted Peter's head, knocking him backwards. Another egg followed, landing near Oliver and Olivia. The man ran toward a bank of machines identical to the ones the men on floor ten had been carting, connected to the radio tower. "It isn't as powerful as it could have been, but it will still accomplish my goals!" He pulled an oversized switch and released a long laugh into the sky.
Peter, Oliver, and Miami all weakened, dazed and confused. Peter saw a pink egg floating in front of him, and he reached out to touch it, hands hitting only air. Oliver saw a dozen eggs circling his vision, and Miami found his wife changed into a shapely egg dressed in her gown.
"Now everyone who has seen the symbol is under my control!" a large, turtleneck-wearing egg said, on the other side of the roof. "Soon the world will bow to Eggbert!"
"Bow to Eggbert," Peter and Oliver repeated, tongues limp.
Olivia and Raymond squawked at each other. Olivia looked at Miami, who was crawling after his wife, a look of adoration in his eyes. Raymond waved his huge flipper in front of Oliver and Peter to no effect.
Olivia spotted the spot she had pecked on Ivy's thigh. She had originally done it as a power play, to retain her status as top woman, but now she had a different plan. With a swift movement of her head, she made a bigger cut on the woman's infuriatingly perfect skin. The woman yelped again, and Miami hesitated.
"Eggs don't bleed," he whispered under the wind. He squinted, adjusted his glasses, then looked up and down the length of his wife's shell. "Eggs don't bleed."
Raymond felt, heard something just at the edge of sensation. He knew how to beat this. He squawked, too low for the human ear, and the two egg-hypnotized men in front of him blinked for a second.
"Egg?" Oliver asked Peter.
"There's no escape!" Eggbert shouted, and hit a switch on the device. The feeling washed over them again, presenting the mind no avenue of exit from its devious grasp.
Peter slumped over, drooling. Oliver stayed where he was, but got a similar glazed look. Miami seemed to come to grips with the fact his wife would taste good on toast.
"Squawk!" Olivia shouted at Raymond. The bigger penguin nodded and started plodding toward Eggbert, flippers curling into fingerless fists.
Eggbert fired his egg weapon again, hitting Raymond in the stomach. The penguin rocked back and forth, keeping its feet. It crouched, put on flipper on the roof, and surged forward, leading with a shoulder. He sacked Eggbert right into the machine, and the man left a human-shaped impression in it. Arcs of lightning bounced out, striking the roof and radio tower--electricity raced up and down its length, until the top of it blew in a shower of sparks.
Raymond looked at the three men and found their conditions unchanged. He glanced at Eggbert and the smashed machine. Eggbert was getting up part-by-part, from knees to feet, one hand pressed against the side of his head. Raymond knocked him down again. "SQUAWK."
Olivia used her small body to shake the hypnotize men to no avail. "Squawk!" She looked from one to the other. All three stood motionless, except for Peter, who laid on his stomach motionless. Olivia looked at Ivy. "Squawk."
Ivy looked at her husband, and the men he had arrived with. She looked at Eggbert, who was moving even slower now, and listened for a moment to the chilling sounds of the city, full of men and women who had stopped dead in their tracks. She breathed in.
Reaching under the hair falling across her back, she unhooked the choker around her neck, and secured it around her husband's neck in a smooth motion. As he woke up she fell silent.
"Ivy, I had the strangest dream. I thought you were-" He saw her blank expression, then took in Peter and Oliver, Olivia, and Raymond, currently squatting on Eggbert. He hobbled to the big penguin, who pointed at the smashed machine.
"Oh, it's busted real good," Miami said. He adjusted the choker around his neck. It was a bit tight. The entire front panel, which held all the switches, dials, toggles, levers, and buttons to control it, had a big dent in it. He touched one of the control mechanisms and found it just as unresponsive as Oliver. "Well then." He cracked his knuckles, or tried at least. He pried the panel off, exposing the flickering guts of the device, wires going every which way and sparks shooting out at random intervals. He grabbed a few wires a pulled. It seemed to do nothing, and so Miami reached in for another handful.
"Stop!" Eggbert shouted under Raymond. "Don't do it! Miami, think clearly! Join me, and we can rule the world together!"
Miami stopped, looked at him, then looked at his wife, who stood hunched forward, drool dripping from a corner of her mouth. He looked back at Eggbert. "I have everything I need." He kept pulling, and the machine went dead.
There was a cough and sputter from across the roof, and Peter sat up. He wiped spittle from his face. "What's happened?"
"I think everything's dealt with, Peter," Miami said, limping toward his wife. Oliver was looking around as well. "Raymond has Eggbert under control."
"Not for long!" Eggbert shouted under the penguin's butt. He activated a device, filling the sky with light. Raymond reeled back, stricken blind, and Eggbert heaved himself up. "You may have foiled my plans this time, but I'll be back! Stronger than ever, and prepared for whatever you try!"
He hit a button on his watch, and a red eggshell coalesced around him, hovering through unknown means. He waved goodbye with a spiteful smile, and the eggshell hovered over the side of the building, heading for the ground.
Raymond wasted no time in lunging over the side to follow him. They heard a crack like a thin piece of glass breaking, a louder smash, a period of silence for a few seconds and then a harrowing scream, like a tomcat unable to avoid a runaway steamroller. The four humans and one penguin waited as the sound receded.
Oliver smacked his lips, and hoisted Olivia. "You'd better go down there and make sure he's all right.
"You aren't going to drop her, are you?" Miami asked, Ivy keeping him up.
"What?" Oliver asked, throwing the penguin over the side of the building. "Don't worry, she'll be fine." They heard a dwindling squawk. "She has her training. Welp, we'd better get down there. About time to wrap things up."
The elevator ride down was much less crowded, and much quieter, with only a few coughs and shuffling feet until it dinged open on the bottom floor.
They exited the building and went around the corner to find Raymond climbing out of a dumpster full of air horns and megaphones.. He raised a flipper in greeting. Eggbert, red eggshell gone, was on his knees, forehead pressed against the pavement. Olivia had managed to tie his hands together, and was standing atop his upraised rump, flippers on her hips. She gave a triumphant squawk.
"Nothing to see here, people," Peter said, waving his hands at the huge assembled crowd. "Go about your business. Everybody have a nice evening."
"We have a few questions we need answering," Oliver said to Eggbert. "Though, I guess most have been answered, thanks to all that up there. But what are the penguins for?"
Eggbert, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead, blinked. "What?"
"The penguins. Where do they fit into your plan?"
"They...aren't part of the plan! Nobody said anything about any penguins!"
"Then why were there all those penguins in the warehouse?"
"What warehouse?" Eggbert asked. "You saw the whole plan in action! There were no penguins involved! Did you...did you steal penguins?"
"Liberated!" Peter said.
"And what about her?" Oliver asked, pointing at Ivy. "How did she get involved in this?"
"I'm not involved in this!" Ivy said. "He kidnapped me to keep Miami from contacting anyone!"
"Which is why I had to hide until you found me," Miami said. He put his hand to his chin. "Or until I found you."
"That seems all wrapped up, then. Take him away, boys!" Peter said to two nearby policemen. They looked at each other and shrugged, hustling forward with hands on their belts. "Well done, Miami. You handled yourself like a real agent."
"You know, we're a bit short-staffed at the moment." Oliver looked him up and down. "You seem like top-quality agent material to me. I'd like to invite you and your wife back for a debriefing."
There was a short moment of silence.
"Squawk?" Olivia said, tugging on Oliver's shirt.
"Hmm? Oh, yes of course! You and Raymond are invited as well. I'm sure Stella can find endless uses for such talented agents as yourselves!" He patted the penguin's head.
The six of them waited for pickup, watching the helicopter draw closer. "Imagine the destruction Eggbert could have caused had he been able to take over the whole world!" Ivy said. "I'm glad you two came along."
"That's a good way to put it," Miami said. "Darling, do you want your choker back? I seem to be blacking out."
"Squawk," Olivia said, beaming with pride.
"SQUAWK," Raymond responded, and the helicopter wobbled as it drew nearer.
They boarded the helicopter and settled in for a relaxing overnight flight back to the agency to welcome its new members, until a sparrow the size of an albatross decided to do its business above them, forcing an emergency landing.
"It's how things go sometimes," Peter said, standing a short distance away from the wreckage. "Something to read?" He offered Miami his communicator, and watched as Miami morphed into a bespectacled woman. Peter turned to the Oliver, who was struggling with his pen. "Did you see that?"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry," Oliver said. "I'm trying to get the juice out."
"Squawk."
"Oh, yes, that's right. Welcome back from vacation, Peter. Here's hoping the next mission is even more exciting than this one!"
Another successful adventure for the Action Duo! Tune in next time to hear "Dire Mysteries of the Undersky!" A short excerpt follows:
Peter flipped through the cards. "None of them say under there!"
Oliver looked up from his work. "Under where?"
As he shook his head, his hair flopped from one side to the other. It had been weeks since it had been necessary to keep up physical appearances--Stella Kleintorbogen had dumped a collection of well-deserved vacation time on him, and after a collection of missions neither impossible nor very easy, he'd decided to take it.
The phone rang. It rang again, as was its nature, and it was about to follow up with a third ring when Peter picked it up. "Peter here."
"Peter, Oliver." Peter's partner, Oliver "Thing" Estrada was a man who got to the point, whether that point was mental, as his test scores showed, or physical, as the many scars on his body showed. "I hope the vacation's been good, but you'll have to cut it short. We're short-staffed at the moment, and the ma'am has asked us to take on an important mission."
Peter perked up. His hair, sensing excitement, wrung itself tight and pointed itself at the ceiling. "The Egg?!"
"The Egg!"
Both men cheered.
"Report in tomorrow, bright and early," Oliver went on. "I'm sure you know how important this mission is. To us, and to the world. The whole world."
"Even adorable puppies up for adoption?"
"You know I don't joke about adoption puppies, Peter!" Oliver took a moment to compose himself. "The mission will be difficult-"
"Impossible?"
"Of course it won't be impossible. That's defeatist talk, Tamorelli, and I won't have it. I look forward to seeing your nigh-indestructible stubble! Oh, also, I finished your book."
"The author puts forward some interesting situations, doesn't he?" Peter asked, gazing at the gap in his bookshelf.
"Indeed. However, he fails to answer the question the title poses and, I'm afraid, I still don't know what we're going to do about all the bugs."
"It's a conundrum," Peter said. "To tomorrow!"
Then, tomorrow, which Peter realized was actually today, he and his partner stood shoulder-to-shoulder (though more accurately shoulder-to-elbow, such was Oliver's unfortunate height) in front of Stella Kleintorbogen, with a long table between them. She, as always, was the picture of professionalism, if someone had doodled on it a bit.
"Gentlemen! Glad to see you back, Tamorelli. You've grown your hair out. It looks nice."
"Compliment acknowledged, ma'am!" Tamorelli said, hands clasped against the small of his back and feet spread.
"The world is in crisis, gentlemen." Stella said. She clicked a button on the remote she held, and the projector flashed an image. It showed what appeared to be an image of an every-day major city. Cars drove, pedestrians walked. A dog was wagging its tail. A cloud rolled across the sky. "As you can tell from this image, it's all gone pear-shaped." Both men nodded, mouths in grim lines. Stella clicked another button and the image zoomed in, showing a shadowed wall of a skyscraper with a spray paint tag of an egg. "The mark has been seen all around the world, from north-Egyptian sand dunes to Antarctic ruins. What does it mean? Who has been making it?"
She shrugged. "We don't know! But one man does." She clicked a button and the image changed to a picture of a man with wide-rimmed glasses, thinning hair, and a mouth pulled down as if by hooks. "This is Miami Hammerston, and his relentlessly memorable name belies a man who likes to take it easy. One day ago, he contacted our headquarters and revealed he knows why The Egg has been appearing all around the world, and who is responsible. However, he fears for his life."
"A smash-and-grab, ma'am?" Oliver asked.
"No, there's no way you're going to be able to exit the city without getting caught up in something much bigger, so you might as well just get it all done at once."
"Economical. I like it."
"You are not alone on this mission. Danielle 'Bynes' Spencer and Luke 'I Hate Star Wars' Punchinelli are your backup team. It's a shame both are in the hospital."
"We can handle it, ma'am!" Peter said.
"That's what I like to hear, Tamorelli. Estrada!"
"Ma'am!"
"I'm making you de facto leader on this mission until Tamorelli gets his spy legs back. Tamorelli."
"Ma'am!"
"That is not a literal statement. Please do not come back with a pair of legs, whether attached to a body or not."
"I appreciate the clarification ma'am!"
"Are there any questions?"
Estrada raised his hand, and Stella pointed at him. "Ma'am, we don't know where we're going yet."
Stella nodded. "As well you don't. Keeping Miami's location a secret is of the utmost paramount, and so you will be shipped to the city he resides in with your eyes covered and your geolocators turned off. It will be your responsibility to find him, deal with whatever troubles you will undoubtedly find yourselves in, and then return to base, with Miami intact. Do I need to define intact?"
"No ma'am!" both men said.
Stella nodded, and snapped her fingers. The projector turned off, the lights came on, and a man appeared next to her. He had a shining-white lab coat, stuffed with pens. With a quick move he adjusted his glasses, leaving them in the same place they had been before. "Gentlemen, R&D officer Radzmaratz."
"I have some things for the both of you," Radzmaratz said. He took the two of them in. "But I bet just by being in the same room as you two they're already broken or lost."
"I have a masters in mechanical engineering, sir!" Oliver said.
"If that's the best I can get." On the table between them, he placed two pens. Peter grabbed one, his smile showing through the thin veneer of responsibility.
"Oh, what does it do? Laser? Explosive? Sleeping darts? No, wait, something else. Aha, it transforms into a juice bar!"
Radzmaratz slid two forms across the table. "It helps you sign things. This form says you will not allow those that have not signed the form to handle the items to be provided. By me. To you. Understood?"
Peter was drawing a flower instead of his signature. Oliver had printed his in block letters, though he had made some spelling mistakes. Radzmaratz whipped the sheets off the table. Peter made a dismayed sound. "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get. Gentlemen, say hello-" e revealed a small metal orb "-to the maximizer."
"Hello to the maximizer!" It doesn't matter which of the two agents said this. Radzmaratz let the metal orb roll across the table, until Oliver stopped it. The short man picked it up and surveyed his reflection in it, picking something out of his teeth.
"The maximizer is a special device that utilizes quantum differences." He paused, expecting a question. To his surprise none came, and he looked down the table to find Peter and Oliver both gazing at their reflections as Oliver held the orb between them. "Ahem. The 'quantum differences' are universal divergences between metaphysical...actuations that search for...similar quarkian setups and embiggen...what are they doing?"
Peter and Oliver were spinning the orb on the table, playing a game with rules, points, and victory unknown but to the two of them. Radzmaratz cleared his throat. "Perhaps I should put it through some more testing."
Stella shook her head. "Those two will test it harder and faster than anyone in your lab. Please, continue. It doesn't look like they're listening, but they are."
Peter cheered, victorious by some means. Oliver laid his head on his arms and wept as if viewing the simultaneous birth and marriage of his first child.
"Of course." Radzmaratz removed two pocket-sized books from the cart he had next to him. "Now, these books contain a number of functions you will find useful in the field. They are communicators--between each other and headquarters--as well as camouflage devices. You can both appear to be house marms reading a trashy romance novel, should you wish." Oliver and Peter, their full attention on Radzmaratz once more, nodded. "The novels are tuned to be different books by penny-dreadful extraordinaire Paige Turner, featuring busty femmes, shirtless hunks, and flowing hair in realistic percentages. I had the boys take a study of the novels available at the local shops and libraries, and found most covers have a-" He looked up from his notes and found, instead of the two agents, two middle-aged women, one taller with spiky hair and one shorter with a thin moustache, reading novels.
"No, Radzmaratz, it doesn't need any more tweaking. I think anyone named Oliver Estrada will have a thin moustache, no matter what sex they are." Stella snapped her fingers, and the crisp sound brought the two agents out of their intermission. "Gentlemen, please pay attention. The longer we tarry here the more danger Miami Hammerston is in."
The agents deactivated their disguises. Radzmaratz adjusted his tie. "There are a number more uses, all of which you can find in the contents page of the book, near the front. Finally, we have this to offer you-" Radzmaratz revealed huge weapons, gleaming with chrome and bristling with a number of attachments. An arc of lightning jumped from one prong to another, and a canister hanging under the barrel vibrated, full of angry bees. "I call it the Exasperator, and- Oh, they've gone."
"A few minutes ago," Stella said, packing her things away. "It's best this way. If we made them stay here and listen they would just get tired and fall asleep. They're sort of like children in that regard, but more destructive and more likely to soil themselves."
Their helicopter approached a non-descript city. Neither could see any buildings distinct enough to tell them which city loomed on the horizon, but they agreed whichever one it was, it loomed with the best of them.
"It's like Chicago, and a nice twist of Toronto." Oliver rubbed his chin. "Do I detect hints of Berlin?"
"Yes, it has an excellent forebode." Peter rubbed his chin as well. The sound drowned out the chopping rotors. "It reminds me of Johannesburg. Do you remember when we-"
"Of course I remember. I was finding pudding in places for weeks. Which is odd since we never encountered pudding on the mission. You know, from this angle it appears to be rather Shanghai-esque! Certainly not big enough."
"Not big enough indeed. Ready to go?" Peter asked. The helicopter lighted upon a building and disgorged the two agents, dressed in comfortable pants and shirts. The blown air from the helicopter gave them a chance to practice cinematic poses.
"Step one," Oliver said, as they descended the stairs inside the building. "Find Mr. Hoositz. Step two: Stop whoever from getting to Mr. Hoositz until we stop whoever from doing whatever. Step three: Enjoy ourselves a beverage from out portable juice bar." He patted the pocket where he had stashed the pen from Radzmaratz.
"I think his name was Hoover Jaguarpuncher. He sounds like top-quality agent material," Peter said. They reached the ground floor and excited into the non-descript sunlight. A non-descript person passed them by. After a moment of smelling the non-descript air, they set out in a non-descript direction.
"Now then. Lightning Spaceunicorn is in hiding, so if we go in hiding, it should be easy to find him. What's an easy way to go into hiding?" Oliver asked.
"I've always preferred murdering a few folks, sending a few cryptic messages, then disappearing forever, to inspire movies and urban legends," Peter said. An old woman, overhearing, shot him the evil eye, and he waved back, smiling. "What about a hijacking, and then bailing out over the Ozarks?"
"It's classic, but we have a deadline. What other options?"
"What if we look in that building over there?" Peter pointed over Oliver's shoulder at a building with no defining features, save a blue egg spray-painted on one side. "Completely run down. Perfect place to hide out."
Oliver nodded, and they waited for the traffic to abate before heading the building, kitty-corner from where they had emerged onto the street. The door inside was locked, and they discussed options for entry until Peter spotted an open window about fifteen feet up. The men looked at each other and nodded. The mission had begun.
Peter linked his fingers together into a step, and Oliver fit his shoe in. With a grunt, Peter sent the smaller man flying toward the gap. With a smash and tinkle, Oliver gained entry into the building. Peter leaned against the door and whistled one the approved inconspicuous tunes until Oliver cracked the door open. Peter tumbled in. "We have a bit of a situation."
"We're prepared for everything!" Peter announced, following Oliver into the building. "I was not prepared for this."
Surrounding the two men was a waist-high crowd of penguins. They stood in a wide arc, motionless and staring. Oliver counted thirty-six. Peter made a quick estimation and found there were six dozen.
"Well, it's only an estimate," Peter said when Oliver pointed out the obvious. "What are they all doing here?"
"Penguins lay eggs, don't they?" Oliver said. "This whole thing is about an egg." He swept his hand across the collected birds. "We've probably just found the secret to the whole organization!"
"It all makes sense now!" Peter said. He let his fist pat into his open palm. "The organization has been poaching and smuggling these rare creatures to utilize their magical powers. They could easily conquer the world with the firepower they have assembled here alone!" One of the penguins squawked, and Peter shied away. "What if they have other collections of penguins in other, more recognizable cities?"
"Then we are well and truly fouled," Oliver said. He took a look around the building, finding nothing more than pillars holding up the distant ceiling and dust bunnies big enough to get lucky feet from. "Doesn't look like Typhoon McMountain is here. Should we call this in?" He took the multi-use book from his pocket. Peter had vanished, and Oliver spun in a circle until he found the man cradling one of the penguins like a swaddled babe.
"They're so cuddly! Can we keep one of them?"
"Only if I get to keep one too!" Oliver said, wading into the pile until he found one who was gazing up at him with a familiar intensity. He put his hand down for it to smell. "This one reminds me of my sister."
"It has her nose," Peter said. "I've named mine Raymond. After the penguin constellation."
"I think I'll call mine-" Oliver made a quick undercarriage check "-Olivia."
"Shall we?" Peter asked. He held Raymond's flipper. Oliver nodded, and the four of them went back to the street.
They toured around the city for an hour, getting themselves some ice cream and buying hats for the penguins which read "I <3 City." They continued to see the emblem of the egg--spray-painted on the sides of buildings, appearing on billboards for a split-second, even appearing on the clothes people wore. They took note of everywhere they saw it, trying to find a specific pattern.
With the penguins as bait--both for people who wanted to see the animals closer, as well as police--they took the chance to ask if people know of a man named Pulse Kitchenutensil. Nobody had ever heard the name. They continued on, taking in the city's Middle Park and Federal Pier. Peter asked if they could take a boat to the jail way out in the lake's bay but Oliver was reluctant.
Finally they found the sun going down, stretching the skyscraper shadows across the crowded streets and sidewalks. The penguins, now bearing shirts ("Sports team rules"), ran to and fro, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Yet still they had not discovered the hiding spot of Punches Firebolt.
"He's a wily one," Oliver said. He fed Olivia a corn chip. They sat on a bench by the river. "I feel like we've looked everywhere."
"There must be somewhere we haven't. Remember, it's always in the last place you look," Peter said. Raymond was draped across his lap, and Peter was rubbing the penguin's stomach. It made a content noise. Peter began rummaging in his pockets for something to free them from the bind. "Maybe that pen-"
His hand brushed the smooth metal orb Radzmaratz had given them, and he suddenly found himself under a ten-foot penguin. It squawked--birds lifted off for miles around. "Raymond! You've had a growth spurt!"
"I think it was that thing the guy gave us," Oliver said. He looked up at the penguin, who was glancing around, tiny baseball cap perched on the tip of its head. "Perhaps we can use this."
"We're smart men." Peter said. "There must be some way to find Texas Lovinggood with this. Maybe we could get a poster."
"That wasn't his name at all," Oliver said. "It was Florida Bonemaster." He turned his gaze away from Peter and his egregious penguin, and found a confused, agog crowd had gathered.
"No, no. It was Memphis Readyton." Peter snapped his fingers to try and get Raymond's attention. Tattered shirt bits floated onto him.
"Miles Overshoulder."
"Metal Screwcertain."
"Miami Hammerston?" a voice from the crowd asked. Peter and Oliver glanced toward it, and found a man who looked just like the picture Stella had shown them pushing toward the front of the crowd. Wispy hair, thick, goggling glasses, and a chin not likely to appear in the Olympics.
"That wasn't it."
Peter and Oliver stayed silent, perplexed. The name wouldn't come to them. The man looked from one, to the other, to the huge penguin, to the smaller penguin at Oliver's side, tugging on his hand and pointing with her other flipper at him.
The crowd had long dissipated before Peter finally popped his mouth open and pointed a finger at the man. "You! It's you!"
"It's me. You two are from the agency?"
"Yes! That's us. From the agency." Oliver said. Olivia squawked. Raymond also squawked, but it was at too low a register for the human ear. Cats, cows, horses, guinea pigs, elephants, ferrets, and goldfish for miles around turned in their direction. "I'm glad we finally found you."
"So am I. Can we go now?"
"Go?" Peter asked.
"Yes, go. Leave. Exit."
"Big vocabulary, this one," Oliver said. "No, it isn't worth trying to leave."
Miami looked from Peter to Oliver. "Why not?"
"There's no way we're going to leave the city without something happening to us--you know, mechanical troubles, a ninja attack, some emergency," Peter said. "It's more worth it for us to just sit a spell and wait it out." He shrugged. "Keeps us from getting tired."
"What was that last one?"
"An attack. By ninjas. Oh I hope it's ninjas."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Miami asked. He seemed unsure how close he could get to Raymond. The penguin was enjoying its new found ability to see over trees, but wasn't very aware of the strength of its flippers.
"Sir, please, we're professionals," Oliver said. He looked at Raymond. "I wonder how big penguins can get."
"Does this thing shrink, too?" Peter wondered, holding the metal orb up. It went off, barely missed Raymond, and struck a bird in the air. It became the biggest sparrow ever, unnoticed by any one of them.
They waited for a few minutes. Peter expressed his hope it was ninjas, and not something boring like they had encountered when investigating Sluudge, the mad slug lord.
"Imagine a thin, gooey layer across the whole city," Oliver said, moving his hand to cover everything in front of him, "annoying but not really any bother."
"I had to use peanut butter to get it out of my hair. Barely worth getting out of bed," Peter added.
A few minutes later, it happened. None of them noticed at first, but it became hard to ignore once it got to be about a dozen.
"What did we tell you?" Peter asked Miami, as the latter wiped egg off his shirt. "It was bound to happen."
"Who's throwing all of them?" Miami asked. An egg nearly hit him in the forehead. Instead, it passed right over and hit Raymond, who barely noticed.
"Vagabonds! Ruffians!" Peter said. An egg got him in the back of the knee and he toppled over. "Iconoclasts! Pirates!"
"Be nice," Oliver said, as Peter popped up. "They're people too, even if they are throwing eggs at us. How would you feel? They're probably just doing their jobs, want to get home to their kids for a hot burrito and a soda."
"You're right," Peter said. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to hurt any feelings! We'd appreciate it if-"
The egg someone had landed right in his open mouth cut off the rest of his words. With him out of commission, an unseen signal directed all of the flying eggs at Miami, who suddenly found himself sodden with yolk and shells. He hid behind Raymond, and the sudden attack roused the penguin. He glanced in the general direction they were coming from.
One of the eggs, a wild throw with a hefty amount of English on it, struck the cap from his head. His eyes narrowed.
"Sic 'em, Raymond!" Peter said, having finally coughed the egg out of his throat. The penguin was all too willing, and waddled forward, his silhouette blocking out the setting sun. They heard frenzied shouts and the sounds of many eggs hitting an unyielding surface. Peter, Oliver, and Olivia charged after the super-sized Spheniscidae, with Miami trailing after them, trying to keep egg off his khakis.
They caught up to Raymond and found him sitting in the middle of the street with no egg-throwing assailants in sight.
"Invisibility shields?" Oliver wondered, he looked around. Peter started to clean off Raymond, who had amassed splattered eggs up and down his wide front. "Getaway drivers?"
"It could be any of those people!" Miami said, pointing at the cars and pedestrians near them, none of whom could tear their eyes away from the sight of the gigantic penguin covered in eggs.
Oliver cleared his throat and raised his hands. "Nothing to see here people, please move along. Official business."
As one, the crowd shrugged and continued their commute. Just another day in City. Oliver turned to Miami. "It's time to start talking, Megatron. Just what do you know about all this egg business? What's with the pictures we keep seeing? What does it have to do with the penguins? And so on." He affixed a stare on Miami.
"We need to get somewhere safe first," Miami said. "Somewhere we can all fit."
"I know I've gained a few pounds," Peter said, still cleaning his ten-foot penguin, "but I've been on vacation. Isn't that allowed?"
"Peter is still well within the official bodular guidelines, Mephistopheles. But I understand your concern. To a hideaway!"
Oliver seemed to know where he was going, so Miami didn't ask questions. They got him nowhere, anyway. They got to a poorly-lit construction site and hunkered down in the pit in the center. The sun continued setting--it had a schedule to keep, you see. A bunch of thrown eggs in a non-descript city weren't going to stop it.
This was Peter's train of thought as the five of them gathered at the bottom of the pit. Oliver held Olivia's flipper as the penguin settled in. She seemed sleepy.
"We need answers, Mr. Thunderpants," Peter said. He pointed a finger. "Better start supplying them."
"To what?"
"What?"
"Answers to what? I don't know what you want answered yet!"
"Oh." Oliver cleared his throat. "First off, why don't you tell us what your middle name is?"
Peter looked at the man, eyebrow raised and ready. "Galactic," Miami said. "Miami Galactic Hammerston."
Oliver forged ahead. "Next, what can you tell us about all the eggs? We see them everywhere." Peter nodded. "How big is the organization? What is their end goal? What does it have to do with the penguins?"
Olivia squawked.
"They're international," Miami began. "They must number in the thousands. Tens of thousands, perhaps. And they all have one goal in mind."
Peter, Oliver, Olivia, and Raymond leaned closer. Miami cleared his throat. "I don't know what it is though."
"Any details? Anything at all?" Peter asked.
Miami brought his eyebrows together, trying to remember. "Well, I know for a fact it has to do with making sure a lot of people have seen the emblem of the egg."
They nodded together. Classic evil organization tactics. "Second, I know there's a lot of them."
"I see. Interesting." Oliver pursed his lips. "Please go on."
"Finally, I know they're international."
"It all makes sense now," Peter said.
"We'll have to act fast," Oliver said, rising. "We may not have much time left."
"Where do we look first," Peter asked, also getting to his feet.
"The tallest building in the city, of course. It's only natural. Captain Puddingsphere, you've spent time in the city...which building is the tallest, and will we be able to get to the top of it?"
Miami scanned the dark skyline. Buildings were beginning to burn with lights. "There, that one." He pointed at a sharp, elongated pyramid. "The Main Street Spire. Tallest, and with plenty of empty space."
Peter and Oliver nodded at each. Things were going quite well indeed.
"On this kind of mission, a number of things can happen," Peter told Miami as they walked. Oliver and Olivia led, while Raymond followed them, slow waddles keeping up easily. "Usually there's some sort of device at the top of the building, which will be very near to activating. There's some data on activation time, but I don't have it with me." He reached for his pocket. "I could ask headquarters, but I bet they've all gone home by now. There will be a ringleader we'll have to defeat, and a sultry female accomplice who will try to turn one of us to her side."
Oliver looked over his shoulder. "Traditionally Peter has been the one to pretend to betray me, but sometimes we mix it up."
"There may also be a mutated animal-" Raymond, emitting a booming squawk, stopped Peter in his explanation. "Please, Raymond, I'm trying to speak. Vats of acid, lasers...it's all very by-the-book so far. There is a script for these sorts of things."
"What if things go a way you aren't expecting?" Miami asked. Peter shrugged.
"Sometimes things go off the rails! Oliver, do you remember when General Jade didn't try to explain his whole plan before offing us?"
"Not very sporting of him, I remember that. He was just going to slowly lower us into a big vat of acid, and not even have the decency to explain why he was doing so."
"How did you get out?" Miami asked.
"Firstly, we had to crack the code on the handcuffs," Peter said. "Easily done."
"The key helped," Oliver said.
"Next, it was get out of the cage. What we didn't know was there were also sharks."
"...in the acid?"
"The rare and deadly Mongolian acid shark. Only twenty in the world, and this monster had two!"
"He captured them from their native acid pools and used them as personal garbage disposals!" Oliver made a fist; the tendons in his arm stood out. "It was a trial, and we didn't escape without injury, but we made it out."
"Who got hurt?"
"I did," Peter said. "Lost my foot." Miami glanced at Peter's two whole and undamaged feet. Peter noticed. "I got better."
"We used the chain to climb over the acid pool and land on the side," Oliver said, picking up the story without missing a beat. "General Jade didn't expect one thing."
"What?"
"A swift punch in the throat!" Peter said, jabbing forward. "Took him right out. You'd be surprised how many evil masterminds would rather wear a black turtleneck than tactical armor."
"A lot of them would have won if they'd taken proper steps," Oliver said.
Speaking of proper steps, they made their way up the many cement steps in front of the Main Street Spire. The huge building disappeared in the sunless sky, tiny red and green lights blinking at the top of its radio tower. Oliver opened up the door and walked in. They found it quiet and empty. A row of elevators was along one wall, stairs along the other, an unmanned security desk was in the center. Potted plants, benches, garbage cans, and lamps stood around the big center room.
After they pulled Raymond through the revolving door, they took a breather. Peter reached a hand up toward Raymond's head, measuring. he looked at the gleaming metal doors for the elevators, then back at the penguin. Then back to the elevators, then to the penguin again. He nodded.
A few minutes later Oliver hit the button for the tenth floor, range of motion in his arm severely limited. He shifted and accidentally elbowed Raymond's gut. Raymond's beak, right next to Peter's ear, squawked, and the entire elevator cab shook as they moved.
"This wasn't a very good idea," Miami said.
"Now Geronimo, do you know the first rule of improv? Never say 'no.' Will our enemies be expecting all of us in this little cab? No. Is it very comfortable? No. Will any of us die, or any of us not have a fun story to tell at dinner parties? No."
Olivia, squished against the cab doors by Raymond's bulk, squawked. It was muffled.
"The old girl's right," Peter said. "This is much faster, and will help us find our enemies before they have a chance. Why, I'm sure we'll give them quite a shock when we come shooting out of here, guns blazing!"
"I don't have a gun," Miami said.
"Neither do we." Oliver shifted. "More fun that way."
"What are we looking for?" Miami asked. His foot was up by his waist. "Something in particular?"
Oliver shrugged, or at least attempted to. "We'll know what it is we're looking for when we see it."
The elevator dinged, and the doors squealed open to reveal six masked men, moving heavy equipment with wires, digital panels, and rows of buttons. All six of them, and the five in the elevator, stared silently, not moving.
Finally free of the elevator's crushing influence, Olivia shot forward, catching one of the men in the chest and punching him against a wall. The penguin tumbled forward and made another man drop whatever bulky item he carried.
"That's the way!" Oliver shouted, and he came rushing out of the elevator, releasing a pent-up karate scream. "KYYYYYYYA!" He caught one of the men in the throat and quickly spun, sending his shoe shooting out at another. Peter followed him and tackled the man Olivia had knocked into, getting him back on the ground. Miami was ejected from the elevator and found a quiet corner to watch the fun. Raymond squeezed through the small opening as the doors tried to close on him, and swept one of the masked men to the ground with one mighty flipper. Only one man remained standing. He dropped the thing he carried--it crunched to the ground and emitted a spark.
He hunched and brought up his hands into fists. Peter and Oliver had him surrounded. Olivia came to her talons behind him, and the ever-sloshing bulk of Raymond the incredible ice bird was in front. The man spotted Miami, clearly someone who was not interested in getting in a tussle, and sped for him. He wrapped and arm around Miami's neck before anyone could stop him.
"Don't you come no closer!" he shouted. "Or this man gets his neck snapped!"
Raymond, in the shape of a huge ball, crashed into the man and Miami. "Penguins are the best!" Peter said, quickly, jumping on the man. Oliver found ropes and ties to contain the other masked members, and lined them up against a wall.
"Now then! Here's how things are going to proceed. I will ask a question. Then, you will answer it. Have I made myself clear?"
A few of them muttered. "I can't hear you!"
None of them said anything. "Seems to be in order. First question: what are you doing bumbling around here at night? Someone could get hurt!" The man Raymond ran flattened groaned. "That isn't the answer I'm looking for."
"You'll never get anything out of us!" one of them said. "We ain't gonna squeal!"
Peter chuckled, arms crossed. "We have ways of making you talk." A pause hung between them. "Please?"
Raymond squawked, and the low reverberation the sound made made all six men turn toward the penguin. The man the penguin had squashed spoke up. "If we don't do what they tell us we get...egged."
The other five men, who had all turned to stare, shivered and looked away. The man clamped his mouth shut, staring at the floor. Oliver and Peter exchanged glances.
"Didn't we just get egged?" Miami asked. "Like an hour ago?"
One of the men shook his head, swinging it from side to side. "You had eggs thrown at you. You weren't...egged."
The six men shivered. Miami scowled and bent to look at one of the devices the men had been carting. "Okay, so someone told you do to this. What is this?" Oliver asked.
"Movin' stuff."
"Granted. What's the stuff?"
"Things."
"You are being very unhelpful," Oliver said. "Raymond?"
The penguin lurched forward, and all six men cried out, seeing in their short future a sudden lack of width. "Stop, stop, we'll talk!" The penguin stepped back again, his beak curled into a frown.
"Much better. Answer me now these questions three, and maybe once again the light of day you will see: Who are they, what are these things you're carrying around, and what are you doing with them?" Oliver pointed at the man on the end of the row. "You."
The man gulped. "The Egg Society. Even we don't know they end goal--we promised! We get phone calls, or texts-"
"I once got a carrier pigeon," one of the other men said.
"I get messages from them on AIM."
"-And then we do what they ask. For most of us it was just putting up pictures of eggs everywhere. Spray painting, hacking into billboards, posters. Suddenly tonight they have the six of us pick up these big machines and bring them in here. They promised the building would be empty."
"And so it was. You." Oliver pointed at the next man. "What are these devices you haul?"
"We don't know! Really!" The man shot a glance at Raymond, who cracked his bird knuckles. "They just look like big servers!"
"I think I might be able to figure out what they are," Miami said. "I deal with computers a lot."
"What do you do?" Peter asked.
Miami placed his fists on his hips. "I'm a systems administrator!" He hunched over, caressing his fingers along one of the machines. "They not just servers, they're also transmitters--they contain a great deal of information and are able to send it out wirelessly."
"In English, please, Ornstein."
"That...that was in English." Peter and Miami looked at each other for a second. "I really don't know how to dilute it any further."
"Perhaps one of these fine gentlemen can shed some light on it," Oliver said. He pointed at the third man. "What did The Egg Society tell you to do with these devices?"
"Go to the roof, hook them all up, connect them to the radio tower, and leave."
"Is that really all? Doesn't seem very much like a grand plan to me." Oliver pointed at the fourth man. "Does it seem very much like a grand plan to you?"
"Er...no?"
"As I thought." Oliver brought Peter, Miami, and the two penguins in for a huddle. "Well men-" Olivia squawked. "-what's our next step?"
"I can try and take these things apart and see what kind of information they're built to distribute," Miami said. "It might tell us where it originated, or what the goal is."
"I say we make for the roof and investigate the radio tower," Peter said. "Something may be up there."
"Both good suggestions." Oliver peeled away from the group, and pointed at the fifth man. "What do you think is the better idea?"
"I think going up to the roof has a better shot at yielding quick info, the man said. "The servers may not be accessible unless you have the right tools or passwords."
"What are they going to find up there?" one of the other men said. "A detailed plan? We were just going to go up there and hook some stuff up, then head down to the bar. It isn't like we know any more than they do right now."
"No, I think they have the right idea," the first man in the row said. "Thematically, it makes more sense. A high zone, blowing winds, hints to a big conspiracy--action is better than sitting around in those kinds of situations."
They all looked toward the man on the far end, the one Raymond had struck. "What do you think?"
"I think they left a few minutes ago."
"You'd think we'd learned our lesson before," Miami said, face pressed into Raymond's back.
"That's the best part of doing this job," Peter said. "No need to learn anything!"
"Besides, it worked out in the end, didn't it?" Oliver said. He had a bit of breathing room, though Miami's foot was in his gut. "We turned an elevator into a mobile penguin cannon!"
Olivia squawked, but nobody heard the sound. She was somewhere under Raymond's wing.
"You know I'm sort of surprised this elevator goes right to the roof," Peter said. "Seems like there would be some security risks."
"We may not know all the details." Oliver shifted, trying to free his foot. "Maybe the building is closed off to the public. Our friends from downstairs did say The Egg Society promised them an empty building. Maybe they also made the elevators go everywhere."
The elevator chugged, groaning toward the top of the building. Olivia, after a few minutes of struggling, popped free and stretched out atop Raymond's bulk before easing onto her behind. She gave a tiny, penguin yawn which quickly spread throughout the elevator and led to an incredible vacuum when it hit Raymond, just as the elevator doors opened. They made a tired, flat ding, as if the speaker had little energy.
The group of them squeezed their way out of the small opening, spilling out across the wind-swept top of the huge building. Raymond moved across the rest of them, flattening them like a rolling pin over dough. The penguin came to rest by their heads.
"Ah, so nice of you to join us."
Peter and Oliver looked up. Miami was groaning and gazing at his leg, mangled at the knee and shooting off in a random direction. They found an elderly man wearing a turtleneck and leather gloves, and a woman dressed in a crimson evening gown, long legs exposed to the gusting winds at the top of the building. She also had black stiletto heels, and an onyx choker around her throat. her long hair interrupted her burning eyes. She started forward, modeling herself, and drawing closer with lengthy steps. Peter and Oliver both jumped to their feet.
"It's my turn," Oliver said. "You had Madam Firewind."
"It's my turn," Peter said. "Madam Firewind is a married woman and you know it. You had Alisandra Jetsetter, and the Senatrix before her."
"The Senatrix barely counts," Oliver said. "She just wanted to talk about special interest groups. I think it may have been innuendo but I wasn't sure."
"Shoot for it."
Both men threw rock three times in a row, and then realized the woman was helping Miami to his feet. Peter nudged Raymond. "Some guard penguin you were." The responding squawk made the building shiver.
"Gentlemen, thank you for finally reaching the pinnacle," the man said, having watched the whole affair. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eggbert. My lovely companion is Ivy Hammerston."
He waited, teeth shining through between his cracked lips, watching for the shocked expressions. Peter tilted forward, expecting more words. Oliver peered around Raymond, who had risen to a sitting position, still taller than Oliver.
"Perhaps you...recognize the name?" Eggbert asked. Peter pursed his lips and shook his head. Oliver coughed slightly. "Hammerston? Miami Hammerston?" Still neither of the agents caught his meaning. "The man you've been with for an hour and a half?"
"What?" Peter looked at Miami, who was leaning on the woman and slowly extending his knee back and forth. "His name is Opratic Cannonfire."
"Nuh-uh, it's Ringo Hawkwind."
"Peter, Oliver," Miami said. "This is my wife, Ivy. It's how I got involved in all this business."
"Halberd! You're married? Mazeltov!" Peter said. "You should have let us know, we would have gotten you something!"
"We've been married for over ten years," Ivy said. Peter and Oliver both found themselves somewhat drunk as soon as she spoke. "It's all my fault you've gotten hurt."
"It's just a knee, honey. It isn't like I was headed to the Olympics anyway."
"You might have torn something. We should...hello? Ouch!"
Olivia had wandered up to the couple, and pecked at Ivy's exposed thigh, drawing a bead of blood. "Olivia!" Oliver shouted. "Be nice!"
The penguin narrowed her eyes and pecked again. The woman shouted and took a step backward, leaving Miami without support; he again found the roof a necessary place to lie.
"I'm sorry about this," Oliver said, taking Olivia's hand. "We just got them...haven't had time to give them much training...she seems to be a bit emotional at times."
Raymond picked up Eggbert, gripping him around the ground and neck, and tossed him against the radio tower, making it waver and shake. "Here now!" Peter said, striding forward to tap the penguin in the chest. "Calm down, there's a script for these things! We need some information before you start throwing people around."
"SQUAWK."
Peter's vision shook. "Yes, I know, I know, it seems that way, but we have to do our due diligence."
"SQUAWK?"
"Yes, of course. It's one of the agency-approved methods of non-violent execution. Just try to get him in the middle of the street. Don't hit any cars or people, or it's a lot of paperwork for us."
"If I may interject," Eggbert said, firing a long tube weapon. An egg the size of a basketball impacted Peter's head, knocking him backwards. Another egg followed, landing near Oliver and Olivia. The man ran toward a bank of machines identical to the ones the men on floor ten had been carting, connected to the radio tower. "It isn't as powerful as it could have been, but it will still accomplish my goals!" He pulled an oversized switch and released a long laugh into the sky.
Peter, Oliver, and Miami all weakened, dazed and confused. Peter saw a pink egg floating in front of him, and he reached out to touch it, hands hitting only air. Oliver saw a dozen eggs circling his vision, and Miami found his wife changed into a shapely egg dressed in her gown.
"Now everyone who has seen the symbol is under my control!" a large, turtleneck-wearing egg said, on the other side of the roof. "Soon the world will bow to Eggbert!"
"Bow to Eggbert," Peter and Oliver repeated, tongues limp.
Olivia and Raymond squawked at each other. Olivia looked at Miami, who was crawling after his wife, a look of adoration in his eyes. Raymond waved his huge flipper in front of Oliver and Peter to no effect.
Olivia spotted the spot she had pecked on Ivy's thigh. She had originally done it as a power play, to retain her status as top woman, but now she had a different plan. With a swift movement of her head, she made a bigger cut on the woman's infuriatingly perfect skin. The woman yelped again, and Miami hesitated.
"Eggs don't bleed," he whispered under the wind. He squinted, adjusted his glasses, then looked up and down the length of his wife's shell. "Eggs don't bleed."
Raymond felt, heard something just at the edge of sensation. He knew how to beat this. He squawked, too low for the human ear, and the two egg-hypnotized men in front of him blinked for a second.
"Egg?" Oliver asked Peter.
"There's no escape!" Eggbert shouted, and hit a switch on the device. The feeling washed over them again, presenting the mind no avenue of exit from its devious grasp.
Peter slumped over, drooling. Oliver stayed where he was, but got a similar glazed look. Miami seemed to come to grips with the fact his wife would taste good on toast.
"Squawk!" Olivia shouted at Raymond. The bigger penguin nodded and started plodding toward Eggbert, flippers curling into fingerless fists.
Eggbert fired his egg weapon again, hitting Raymond in the stomach. The penguin rocked back and forth, keeping its feet. It crouched, put on flipper on the roof, and surged forward, leading with a shoulder. He sacked Eggbert right into the machine, and the man left a human-shaped impression in it. Arcs of lightning bounced out, striking the roof and radio tower--electricity raced up and down its length, until the top of it blew in a shower of sparks.
Raymond looked at the three men and found their conditions unchanged. He glanced at Eggbert and the smashed machine. Eggbert was getting up part-by-part, from knees to feet, one hand pressed against the side of his head. Raymond knocked him down again. "SQUAWK."
Olivia used her small body to shake the hypnotize men to no avail. "Squawk!" She looked from one to the other. All three stood motionless, except for Peter, who laid on his stomach motionless. Olivia looked at Ivy. "Squawk."
Ivy looked at her husband, and the men he had arrived with. She looked at Eggbert, who was moving even slower now, and listened for a moment to the chilling sounds of the city, full of men and women who had stopped dead in their tracks. She breathed in.
Reaching under the hair falling across her back, she unhooked the choker around her neck, and secured it around her husband's neck in a smooth motion. As he woke up she fell silent.
"Ivy, I had the strangest dream. I thought you were-" He saw her blank expression, then took in Peter and Oliver, Olivia, and Raymond, currently squatting on Eggbert. He hobbled to the big penguin, who pointed at the smashed machine.
"Oh, it's busted real good," Miami said. He adjusted the choker around his neck. It was a bit tight. The entire front panel, which held all the switches, dials, toggles, levers, and buttons to control it, had a big dent in it. He touched one of the control mechanisms and found it just as unresponsive as Oliver. "Well then." He cracked his knuckles, or tried at least. He pried the panel off, exposing the flickering guts of the device, wires going every which way and sparks shooting out at random intervals. He grabbed a few wires a pulled. It seemed to do nothing, and so Miami reached in for another handful.
"Stop!" Eggbert shouted under Raymond. "Don't do it! Miami, think clearly! Join me, and we can rule the world together!"
Miami stopped, looked at him, then looked at his wife, who stood hunched forward, drool dripping from a corner of her mouth. He looked back at Eggbert. "I have everything I need." He kept pulling, and the machine went dead.
There was a cough and sputter from across the roof, and Peter sat up. He wiped spittle from his face. "What's happened?"
"I think everything's dealt with, Peter," Miami said, limping toward his wife. Oliver was looking around as well. "Raymond has Eggbert under control."
"Not for long!" Eggbert shouted under the penguin's butt. He activated a device, filling the sky with light. Raymond reeled back, stricken blind, and Eggbert heaved himself up. "You may have foiled my plans this time, but I'll be back! Stronger than ever, and prepared for whatever you try!"
He hit a button on his watch, and a red eggshell coalesced around him, hovering through unknown means. He waved goodbye with a spiteful smile, and the eggshell hovered over the side of the building, heading for the ground.
Raymond wasted no time in lunging over the side to follow him. They heard a crack like a thin piece of glass breaking, a louder smash, a period of silence for a few seconds and then a harrowing scream, like a tomcat unable to avoid a runaway steamroller. The four humans and one penguin waited as the sound receded.
Oliver smacked his lips, and hoisted Olivia. "You'd better go down there and make sure he's all right.
"You aren't going to drop her, are you?" Miami asked, Ivy keeping him up.
"What?" Oliver asked, throwing the penguin over the side of the building. "Don't worry, she'll be fine." They heard a dwindling squawk. "She has her training. Welp, we'd better get down there. About time to wrap things up."
The elevator ride down was much less crowded, and much quieter, with only a few coughs and shuffling feet until it dinged open on the bottom floor.
They exited the building and went around the corner to find Raymond climbing out of a dumpster full of air horns and megaphones.. He raised a flipper in greeting. Eggbert, red eggshell gone, was on his knees, forehead pressed against the pavement. Olivia had managed to tie his hands together, and was standing atop his upraised rump, flippers on her hips. She gave a triumphant squawk.
"Nothing to see here, people," Peter said, waving his hands at the huge assembled crowd. "Go about your business. Everybody have a nice evening."
"We have a few questions we need answering," Oliver said to Eggbert. "Though, I guess most have been answered, thanks to all that up there. But what are the penguins for?"
Eggbert, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead, blinked. "What?"
"The penguins. Where do they fit into your plan?"
"They...aren't part of the plan! Nobody said anything about any penguins!"
"Then why were there all those penguins in the warehouse?"
"What warehouse?" Eggbert asked. "You saw the whole plan in action! There were no penguins involved! Did you...did you steal penguins?"
"Liberated!" Peter said.
"And what about her?" Oliver asked, pointing at Ivy. "How did she get involved in this?"
"I'm not involved in this!" Ivy said. "He kidnapped me to keep Miami from contacting anyone!"
"Which is why I had to hide until you found me," Miami said. He put his hand to his chin. "Or until I found you."
"That seems all wrapped up, then. Take him away, boys!" Peter said to two nearby policemen. They looked at each other and shrugged, hustling forward with hands on their belts. "Well done, Miami. You handled yourself like a real agent."
"You know, we're a bit short-staffed at the moment." Oliver looked him up and down. "You seem like top-quality agent material to me. I'd like to invite you and your wife back for a debriefing."
There was a short moment of silence.
"Squawk?" Olivia said, tugging on Oliver's shirt.
"Hmm? Oh, yes of course! You and Raymond are invited as well. I'm sure Stella can find endless uses for such talented agents as yourselves!" He patted the penguin's head.
The six of them waited for pickup, watching the helicopter draw closer. "Imagine the destruction Eggbert could have caused had he been able to take over the whole world!" Ivy said. "I'm glad you two came along."
"That's a good way to put it," Miami said. "Darling, do you want your choker back? I seem to be blacking out."
"Squawk," Olivia said, beaming with pride.
"SQUAWK," Raymond responded, and the helicopter wobbled as it drew nearer.
They boarded the helicopter and settled in for a relaxing overnight flight back to the agency to welcome its new members, until a sparrow the size of an albatross decided to do its business above them, forcing an emergency landing.
"It's how things go sometimes," Peter said, standing a short distance away from the wreckage. "Something to read?" He offered Miami his communicator, and watched as Miami morphed into a bespectacled woman. Peter turned to the Oliver, who was struggling with his pen. "Did you see that?"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry," Oliver said. "I'm trying to get the juice out."
"Squawk."
"Oh, yes, that's right. Welcome back from vacation, Peter. Here's hoping the next mission is even more exciting than this one!"
Another successful adventure for the Action Duo! Tune in next time to hear "Dire Mysteries of the Undersky!" A short excerpt follows:
Peter flipped through the cards. "None of them say under there!"
Oliver looked up from his work. "Under where?"