Book 3 - The Spy Who Haunted Me (17 page)

I considered the Blue Fairy thoughtfully. He didn’t look like much, even with his new health and his somewhat damp Elizabethan finery, but I had seen him pull all kind of amazing things out of a dimensional pool he could conjure up. He caught me looking at him and smiled superciliously.

“I can handle anything I can sink my hook into these days. I learnt a lot during my time at the Fae Court under Queen Mab.”

“I thought the elves killed half-breeds on sight,” said Katt just a bit spitefully. “Breeding outside the species being their greatest taboo, after all.”

“Not when you come bearing gifts,” said the Blue Fairy, one hand rising very briefly to the golden torc around his throat.

Everyone looked at me. I looked right back at them until they got the message and changed the subject.

“Could you really fish the monster out of the loch?” Walker said to the Blue Fairy.

“Maybe,” said Blue. “But it would take time, and—”

Something stirred in the stunted shrubs nearby. We all spun around. Katt produced an impressively big gun from out of nowhere and fired a single shot in the direction of the noise. The shrubs all but exploded, and blood and fur flew on the air. The sound of the gun was shockingly loud in the quiet, echoing back from the surrounding hills. We all waited, on guard, but nothing else moved in the tattered shrubs at the side of the loch. Honey looked at Katt with new respect.

“Can I ask, where precisely did you produce that unnaturally large gun from?”

Katt smiled. “Please; allow a girl her little secrets.”

“I once knew a girl who had teeth in her—” said the Blue Fairy, and then shut up when I looked at him.

Walker was already poking through the ruins of the smouldering shrubs with the tip of his umbrella. He bent over to inspect something and then sighed, straightened up, and looked back at Katt.

“Congratulations, my dear. You have just exploded an otter.”

She shrugged and smiled prettily about her. “Sorry, darlings. Instinct.”

“Otters are a protected species, aren’t they?” said Peter.

“Not from me,” said Katt. Her gun had disappeared again. I had to wonder what else she might have hidden about her person. I wouldn’t have thought there was room for anything under a dress that tight; not even underwear.

The Blue Fairy produced a fishing rod and reel out of nowhere.

It looked battered and mended and much used, but he handled it with professional ease. “What do we think the monster is, anyway?” he said without looking up.

“It’s supposed to be some kind of dinosaur, isn’t it?” said Honey. “The last of its kind, preserved in a lake cut off from the rest of the natural world. The few photos I’ve seen all show a long neck and what might be the humps of an extended body.”

“I always hoped it would turn out to be a dragon,” said the Blue Fairy just a bit wistfully. “Not those nasty things the elf lords ride; I mean the real thing, from ages past, when there was still wild magic in the world . . .”

“You soppy old romantic, you,” I said.

“Maybe it’s an alien!” said Katt. “Descended from the crew of some crashed alien starship, long ago.”

“Could be some kind of elemental,” said Walker. “Which would explain why it never seems to look the same twice.”

Peter sniffed loudly. “More likely it’s just another tourist trap, making the most of an old legend to separate the gullible from their money.”

“If this contest wasn’t so important, I think I’d be just as happy for Nessie to stay a mystery,” I said. “After all, what would the rest of the world do, if presented with actual proof of Nessie’s existence and nature? Trap it, or shoot it? Drag it out of the loch to be shown off at some aquatic zoo? It would certainly never know a moment’s peace again. No, I think it’s safer and better off as a legend.”

Walker stood at the very edge of the bank, staring down into the dark still waters. “What if there is no monster?” he said thoughtfully. “No Nessie. What if that’s the answer to the mystery; that there’s nothing down there, really, and never was? How are we supposed to prove a negative? I mean, short of draining the whole loch . . .”

“Damn,” said Katt. “You’re actually considering it, aren’t you?”

“Philistine,” said the Blue Fairy, deftly slipping a barbed hook onto the end of his fishing line.

Walker looked back at us, smiling. “I doubt even the CIA could pull that one off, with all its resources. And certainly not without seriously upsetting the locals . . .”

“What we need,” Honey said firmly, “is a submersible.”

Her face became preoccupied; no doubt she was communing with her superiors at Langley via her computer implant. No way that was Earth technology. I was beginning to get a very good idea of which particular nonexistent department Honey worked for. A few moments passed, and then a great rent appeared in the sky above us, an actual tear in reality itself. Out of which dropped a large and very yellow and extremely futuristic-looking submersible. It was the size of an articulated lorry, and it fell almost lazily through the air, heading for the water right next to where we were standing.

“Everybody back!”
yelled Walker.

He was already retreating at speed, and the rest of us were right on his heels. The submersible hit the surface of the loch hard, and a great explosion of water jumped up into the air, raining down just where we’d been standing. Some of the icy waters still reached us, and Katt squeaked miserably as it splashed across her bare shoulders. Served her right for being so slow off the mark. Walker remained cool and calm under his opened umbrella. The rest of us glared at Honey, who pretended to be very interested in her newly acquired submersible, which had now steadied itself and was bobbing happily at the side of the loch. It was big and blocky, with wide fins, a blunt nose, and all kinds of bristling scientific protrusions. There was even a (hopefully reinforced) extra-wide window at the front, backed up by great glaring headlights. Which it was going to need, down in the depths, where just the submersible’s passage would stir up enough peat to fill the water.

“Trust the CIA to show off,” said Peter.

“The CIA does big,” I said. “Droods prefer subtle.”

Honey sniffed loudly. She didn’t look exactly inspired with what she’d been sent. “Wonderful!” she said acidly. “Someone who only thinks they have a sense of humour has sent me a yellow submarine. Probably programmed the ship’s computers to sound like Ringo. Heads will roll when I get back, and other things too. I asked for a proper research vessel, not this . . . toy.”

“I’d mention Thunderbird 4,” said Walker. “But it would only date me.”

“I think it’s very pretty,” said Katt.

“How are we all supposed to squeeze into something that size?” said the Blue Fairy.

“You aren’t,” Honey said shortly. “I’ve used that model before, and it’s strictly a single seater. And no, you don’t get to draw straws over who goes. It’s my submersible, so I get to drive.”

“Typical CIA,” said Katt. “Never big on sharing.”

“We’re supposed to let you go down there on your own?” said Walker.

“Unless one of you has gills and can hang on to the outside,” said Honey.

“You might be able to locate Nessie with your wonderful new toy,” I said. “But how are you going to get proof? I don’t care what your new rubber duckie comes equipped with; you’re not going to get a clear image underwater. It’s been tried, and without a clear background to give you scale, any sonar image you get is worthless.”

“Why do I just know you’re about to suggest something clever?” said Honey.

“Because I’m a Drood,” I said. “We always know best. It’s in our job description. Look, this isn’t exactly rocket science. First you find the creature, then you bring it up to the surface, and finally we photograph it right next to your submersible. That gives us size and scale and a clear image, right?”

“The submersible’s cameras are only designed to operate underwater,” said Honey.

We all looked at each other.

“I’ve got a really good camera built into my phone,” said Peter.

“Oh, this is all just so amateur night, darlings,” said Katt.

“It’ll do,” Honey said shortly. “I’m not begging and pleading with Langley for more equipment. This whole mission is drowning in paperwork and requisitions as it is, and you just know they’ll find some way to stick me with the overruns. I’ll locate Nessie and goose her up to the surface, and, Peter, you had better get some really good photos.”

“This is a state-of-the-art phone, with still shots and film,” Peter protested. “I designed it myself.”

He started to spout off some detailed technobabble, only to shut up and sulk as it became clear none of us was listening. Honey stalked down to the edge of the bank, and we all trailed after her, feeling just a bit left out. None of us were used to being left behind while someone else went off to do all the interesting fun stuff. Honey jumped lightly onto the side of the bright yellow submersible, grabbing one of the more sturdy protrusions to steady herself. The submersible hardly bobbed at all under her added weight. She hit the access panel with her fist, and a hatch swung slowly outward. She wriggled in past it and disappeared inside. This was followed by a certain amount of swearing as she couldn’t find the light switch and then the sound of powerful engines coming on line, and the whole submersible seemed to shake itself like a hunting dog coming awake, ready for action. The access hatch opened itself a little wider, and then we all ducked and fell back as a package the size of a kitchen sink shot out over our heads and crash-landed on the bank behind us.

We all turned to look, and then watched with interest as the package jumped up and down on the spot, turning itself rapidly over and around in midair, shaking and shuddering as it unfolded in several different directions at once. It kept growing and growing in size, throwing out offshoots of itself, and finally sank several barbed steel legs into the ground to hold it securely in place. By the time it had finished showing off, the package had formed itself into a large, flashy, and more than state-of-the-art remote communications centre, complete with radio, sonar, live television feeds, and a few things even I didn’t recognise. Walker immediately strode over and commandeered the nearest keyboard, looked it over briskly, and then punched in a series of instructions that had the whole thing up and running in a few moments.

I wandered around the console, checking the data streams on the monitors, familiarising myself with the various comm systems, very careful not to touch anything. I was damned if I was leaving any fingerprints or DNA traces on the console’s suspiciously gleaming surfaces for the CIA to study once the mission was over. After a while I moved in beside Walker and casually indicated a few more things he could do to bring the console up to full power. Just to show I wasn’t being left out of things. The others crowded in beside us, peering over our shoulders.

“We have radio and video contact with the pilot,” said Walker, “direct feed from seven underwater cameras on those monitors there, and an ongoing display of whatever the submersible’s long-range sensors are picking up. Almost as good as being there.”

“Can you hear me, Honey?” I said, leaning forward over the mike.

“Of course I can hear you! I can hear all of you.” Strapped into a pilot’s chair and surrounded very closely on all sides by what looked like enough instrumentation to take the submersible into near Earth orbit, Honey glared out at us from a small screen.

“Looks a bit snug,” I said.

“Snug? I’ve known spacier coffins. There isn’t room in here to swing a flea. I’ve already severely bruised precious parts of my anatomy just getting into the driving seat, and you don’t even want to know what I have to do to work the air-conditioning. Still, all systems are go; we are ready to proceed.”

“We still haven’t decided how you’re going to lure the famously shy Nessie out of hiding,” said Walker. “You don’t appear to have anything on board that will do the trick. Or at least, nothing that hasn’t been tried before.”

“Maybe I should try to attract the creature,” said Katt, half seriously. “I do have an outstanding track record for attracting anyone and anything with a pulse . . .”

“Yeah,” said the Blue Fairy. “That’ll do it. Stand on the edge of the loch and show it your tits, Katt.”

“Crude little man,” Katt said frostily.

“Actually, you’ve just given me an idea,” said Blue. “Attraction: that’s the key. We have to make Nessie want to come up to the surface. And there are some things, some sounds, that will attract anything, luring them on against their will, pulling them on like a hook in the jaw. And I have just the thing in mind: something I’ve fished for before.”

We all looked at him, standing tall and proud and only a bit bedraggled in his Elizabethan finery, his battered old fishing rod and reel at the ready. And perhaps I was the only one who saw just how much he needed to be taken seriously.

“What did you have in mind?” I said.

“A mating call,” said the Blue Fairy, smiling back at all of us, pleased at being the centre of attention. “I once brought up from the dimensional depths, entirely by accident I have to admit, a kind of . . . siren. A temptress, a seducer, whose call no mortal will could hope to withstand. Fortunately, this particular siren’s call was only ever intended to work on those of a heterosexual persuasion, so I remained relatively unaffected and was able to throw the damned thing back.”

“Can you find it again?” said Walker.

“Well, obviously,” said Blue, “or I wouldn’t have said anything. I’ll find it, hook it, and reel it in, and then we can use its call to bring Nessie right to us.”

“Hold everything,” said Walker. “Are you seriously proposing we call up another monster and drop it into the loch? Isn’t the situation here complicated enough as it is? Not to mention the problem we would be leaving behind for the future. What if the siren developed a taste for the locals? They could end up swarming here like so many lemmings.”