"We're goin' where?"
"To do what??"
The two operatives spoke almost simultaneously, and Cowley scowled.
"Ye heard what I said. Ye're to escort Special Envoy Dracacanot back home to Slingflinggit."
Bodie stared at Doyle, who stared back at him. They turned and both stared at the screen. As one, they spoke.
"Why us?"
"Ye're the only two I've got available right now. He's expecting you onboard the Slingflinggit Diplomatic Corps ship at docking bay 97 as soon as you can get yourselves there. So get going."
"Running all the way, sir." Bodie glanced at Doyle and grinned.
*Think we can wangle a day or two's R&R on 'Flinggit?*
Doyle bit his lip pensively.
*Never been there. 's it worth it?*
*If it means a couple of days off, of course it is!!*
They winced as Cowley's stentorian voice echoed in their heads.
*And ye'll get yerselves back here on the next shuttle!*
*Yes sir. Of course sir.*
On the screen Cowley's head nodded as the screen blanked. Doyle frowned at Bodie.
"Why're we still workin' for such a miserable old sod?"
Bodie, rubbing at his temples, ignored the question as usual.
"God, I hate it when he hijacks the 'airwaves. Always gives me a bloody headache."
Doyle grinned suddenly and slapped him on the shoulder, making him wince.
"C'mon, sunshine. Could be worse. I mean, we get a free trip offworld, few days off while we're performin' this highly dangerous mission... easy money, innit. Think we can smuggle a couple of friends onboard?"
"You got that much control over what passes for your mind?"
"You suggestin' I can't keep me thoughts to meself?"
Bodie grinned, then winked. "Well, you can't keep your hands to yourself, anyway..."
Doyle planted said hands on his hips, expression indignant. "Look who's bloody talkin'!"
"We can argue about it later. Don't want to keep the Special Envoy waiting now, do we?"
An hour later, a deep, rumbling voice greeted them as they entered the (apparently) empty control room of the 'Flinggit CD ship.
"Ah, you're here at last. Get yourselves seated - and don't touch anything." Bodie, who had been reaching for a tempting-looking bright green knob on a nearby instrument panel, snatched back his hand guiltily.
Doyle scratched his head and frowned around the room, then glanced at Bodie.
"Automated?"
Bodie shrugged. "Looks like it. Where d'you want to sit?"
Before Doyle could answer, the voice boomed again. It sounded irritated.
"I am not an automation."
Bodie took a closer look at the central command post. There, plugged into the control panel, was a rat. Bodie stepped backwards smartly, nearly knocking over his partner.
"Oi, watch it! What's the matter?"
Bodie pointed silently. Doyle peered at the small furry creature and grinned.
"'Ullo, Poopsie."
Bodie's voice rose an octave. "Poopsie?"
"Yeah. Bodie, this is Poopsie Gerbilbuns. Poopsie, this is me partner, Bodie."
The creature waved two of its six hands and one of its tails.
"Good evening, Bodie."
Bodie was gibbering. Doyle led him over to the Prognopper co-pilot's seat and pushed him down into its oversized folds.
"Wha... wha.... who?"
Bodie's thoughts were equally chaotic, and Doyle wisely ignored the static. He inclined his head.
"Reckon you never heard of 'im, then. Bloody typical. You ever read anythin' but the sexcasts?"
Bodie treated his partner to one of his best 'bewildered goldfish' expressions. Doyle grinned broadly.
"Oh, Poopsie's famous, he is. One of the best singularity astronavigators around."
Bodie found his voice. Well, someone's voice, anyway. "Best what?"
"Singularity astronavigator."
Bodie's expression remained unenlightened. Doyle sighed.
"Singularity astronavigator. Black 'ole bandit to you."
Bodie's jaw dropped. "That - rodent - is a black hole bandit?"
"Yeah."
There was a brief but pointless struggle as Bodie tried to wrestle himself out of the seat, severely hampered by the sheer voluminous dimensions of the chair, the wrist and ankle restraints that clicked into place as soon as the seat extended into its operational position, and Doyle sitting on him. He was just about to employ a definargle body twist (a useful little trick he'd picked up in a martial arts school on Gngngng whilst in the ISAS) when Gerbilbuns' booming voice announced that they were now leaving Terran orbit.
With a strangled scream, Bodie sagged. Cautiously, Doyle climbed off his partner.
"Y'OK now?"
Bodie pouted at his partner. "No. I wanna get off."
"What the 'ell's the matter with you?"
"Gerbilbuns."
"But you 'aven't got gerbil..... Oh." Doyle glanced at the 'navigator, then frowned at Bodie.
"Better get you to yer cabin. Then you can tell auntie Ray all about it..."
The Slingflinggit Diplomatic Corps ship was immense. It took them an hour to find their adjoining cabins, and by then Bodie had calmed down a lot. So much so that he was wondering how to change the subject when Doyle asked him what the problem was...
Luckily he didn't have to. Doyle deposited him in his cabin and then went to his own to search out the bottle of 390-proof nokyoklin® he'd stashed away earlier. Seconds later an outraged bellow had Bodie charging into the next cabin, graser drawn.... He canoned into his partner, knocking him flying, and they both ended up sprawled on the floor.
Doyle sat up and glared at him.
"Oh ta very much, mate. You just got us both killed."
"What?!"
Impatiently, Doyle pushed his partner's weapon down to point at the floor. "Will you stop waving that bloody thing around? If," he began, voice heavy with sarcasm, "we had been in danger, what good d'you think your bargin' in like the bloody 29th Hellguard Brigade is gonna do?"
Bodie re-holstered his graser and scowled at Doyle. "You yelled."
Doyle snorted. "Yeah, well, it kind of took me by surprise."
Bodie frowned, running his eyes over his partner. He was still fully clothed.... Doyle caught the look: the glitter in his eyes promised later retribution.
"I was talkin' about that." He gestured towards the corner of the room. It was a dimly lit corner, and for a moment Bodie wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. Then he saw it. He gaped.
"It's a tree!"
"Worse than that, mate. It's a bloody triffid."
Bodie frowned. "So?"
Doyle eyed him as though he were some newly-discovered exotic life-form - but only for a moment. He sighed.
"D'you know what them things do to yer mind?"
Bodie shrugged a negative.
"Give you dreams is what."
"What's so bad about that?"
"You 'aven't seen the dreams, mate!"
Never one to turn down a new experience, Bodie grinned.
"So let's swap rooms."
"Oh no! I am not 'avin' you wanderin' round this ship under the mistaken impression you're a gorgeous young virgin lookin' for a ravishin'."
Bodie twinkled. "Not even a ravishing young gorgeous looking for a virgin?"
Doyle tossed him a disgusted look. "Forget it, Bodie. Even Gerbilbuns wouldn't be safe."
That gave Bodie pause. Perhaps Doyle had a point, after all...
"So what're we going to do?"
"Share your cabin."
"What!? But...."
Doyle scowled. "Look, all the other cabins're either sealed up or toxic. An' I am not sharin' my quarters with a triffid!"
Bodie raised his hands in surrender. "OK, OK... You win."
Three hours later, and well wallied into the nokyoklin®, it occurred to Bodie - muzzily - to wonder aloud where their Special Envoy was...
Doyle closed one eye and tried to bring his partner into focus. "Y'wanna go 'n' look fr'im?"
"Nah. Sum'b'dy'd tell us if an'thing's wrong..." Bodie fell over, slowly and quite gracefully. Doyle reached a hand to him, finally making contact with his shoulder on the third attempt.
"Y'OK?"
Bodie rolled gingerly onto his back and peered up at his partner, cross-eyed with the effort of trying to resolve multiple images into one. He gave up and closed his eyes.
"Nighty night...."
Doyle briefly and drunkenly considered trying to drag him onto the bed - then gave up on the idea as he collapsed bonelessly and slid to the floor himself.
Unseen by both operatives, a delicate twig appeared around the ablutions cubicle door, twitching as it hovered over Doyle's motionless form. Then two curious, questing green tendrils groped their way from the cabin next door, along the short stretch of corridor, and into Bodie's cabin. Once there they dived for the recumbent agents, almost quivering with glee...
Bodie woke to find himself in bed. Naked. Beside an equally naked partner. Not a problem. Had happened before, would no doubt happen again. The ache that had once been his body could - just, he supposed - be attributed to the nokyoklin®. But the headache....
He could swear someone had let loose a swarm of necromaggots inside his skull. His brain felt like... like... what brain? Beside him, Doyle groaned.
"What did you do?"
Bodie scowled. At least, he tried to. His face couldn't work out the moves properly, though. The result made Doyle chuckle, even as he winced. Bodie gave up on the scowl and pouted instead.
"Could ask you th'same."
Jerkily, Doyle squinted around the room, then back to Bodie.
"Nuthin' to do with me, mate. S'your room."
"Your idea to sleep in it..." Bodie sat up, then grabbed his head with both hands to stop it falling off. "Oh god..."
Doyle shifted, cautiously, then paused, frowning suspiciously. His hand disappeared under the covers - and came back out holding a large, heavily veined, slightly hairy leaf. A triffid leaf.
Erupting from the bed, he stormed into the ablutions cubicle. Bodie whimpered as his partner's outraged yell threatened a further cranial implosion.
"Junior's in 'ere!"
Bodie tried this from several angles, but it still made no sense. Not that anything was making any sense at the moment...
Doyle stuck his head back around the door and glared. "There's another bloody triffid in your bathroom."
"So?"
"They work in pairs, you pillock!"
Before Bodie could reply, Gerbilbuns' voice boomed from the comms unit. Both men flinched.
"We are about to dock with the Slingflinggit orbital platform. Ensure you have all your luggage and appropriate documentation with you before leaving the ship. Will the CI5 operatives please report to debarkation immediately. And Doyle, take your rubbish with you this time."
Bodie groped for his clothes, piled untidily beside the bed - but before he could do anything with them, a strange scraping, shuffling noise caught his attention. He poked Doyle in the ribs (earning himself a snarl), then pointed a trembling finger, wordlessly, as a rootlike appendage appeared in the ablutions cubicle door. With an undulating half-wiggle, half-sway, the triffid rippled its way across the cabin towards the door. Then it paused, all its leaves pointing in the direction of the pair on the bed, made what looked like a bow, and eased its way out of the room.
Bodie stared after it for a moment, then climbed into his clothes as quickly as he could. With Doyle following close behind, moments later he raced for debarkation. At the exit port Gerbilbuns - hovering at eye-level on a miniature anti-grav platform - was in silent communication with the triffid from Doyle's cabin, the smaller one from Bodie's bathroom lovingly entwined in its branches. As the two operatives arrived, the navigator turned to them with what could only be a grin.
"Ah, there you are. Special Envoy Dracacanot here," he extended one tiny paw to the triffid, "thanks you for what has been a most intriguing and instructive trip. If he might make one small suggestion, however, you might find a less liberal application of nokyoklin® helpful in future."
If Bodie hadn't known better he would swear that the trembling leaves were indicative of laughter. Doyle, however, did know better, and glared at the triffid, severely tempted to tear him off a branch or two before he left the ship. But the Slingflinggit penalty for laying hands on a Special Envoy was enough to give anyone palpitations...
"Your shuttle will pick you up in a couple of local hours - that will give you enough time for a quick trip to the detox unit." Gerbilbuns' antennae twitched. "A shower might be a good idea as well."
Doyle spluttered, speechless. Bodie was too busy trying not to fall over again to be affronted. Grabbing his partner's wrist, he marched them both, somewhat unsteadily, off the ship.
Several hours later, sobered, showered and strapped into their seats on board the shuttle, Bodie turned from his contemplation of the internal configuration of the black hole they were currently traversing and swivelled to Doyle, elbowing him rudely awake. Doyle snorted.
"What the 'ell d'you want now?"
"Just what did happen back there?"
Doyle shrugged. "Your guess is s'good as mine. That's what pairs of triffids do - make you do things and then steal the memories of 'em. Don't worry about it. Trust me - we're better off not knowin'."
"But how're we going to write up the report?"
Doyle frowned slightly, considering. "Mission accomplished, uneventfully?"
"And leave out the details?"
"Can you remember 'em?"
"Well, no..."
"So what's the problem?"
He had a point, Bodie admitted to himself. He sighed.
"Got anything planned for tonight?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
"First I'm gonna finish the nokyoklin®, then I'm gonna ditch all me pot plants. Never want to see another one ever again."
"Want a hand?"
Doyle regarded him dryly. "You just wanna get your 'ands on me nokyoklin®..." Bodie grinned, "... but yeah, you can come across. And then," his eyes glittered evilly, "you can tell me why you freaked out when you saw Poopsie..."
Bodie's grin snapped shut. "Thought you'd forgotten."
"Who, me? You know better than that, sunshine."
Bodie weighed up the pros and cons, and decided he may as well get it over with, because Doyle sure as hell wouldn't let it rest... But it might be worth it - Doyle would owe him one. He fingered the triffid leaf in his pocket, pondering. 9.7 - Lookuss - was from Grubbit 4, wasn't he? And if anyone knew how to root up a plant from a leaf, it'd be a half-man, half-vegetable....
He grinned to himself. There were lots of thing you could do in CI5 with a triffid or two....
© 2000 WordWrights.
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