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"DUST MITES ATTACK! I - Mad Science"
Feb. 3rd, 2025 05:40 am"DUST MITES ATTACK! I - Mad Science"
9/11-9/12/2010
I.
Striding briskly up Park Avenue at nine AM, they drew many interested and appreciative glances. Two attractive young women in their early twenties, the platinum blonde Ashley was dressed all in white.. boots, snug jeans and pullover sweater with a rolled collar. Next to her, the slightly taller brunette Megan wore all black...sneakers, slacks and a plain T-shirt under a light windbreaker. This wasn't a deliberate statement or anything, just their preferences.
They stood on the corner of 83rd Street, waiting for the light. The blonde was smiling with the seraphic serenity of extreme confidence. "I really disliked that Mrs Claire," she said. "I bet she has never been in a restaurant where she didn't demand to speak to the manager. And she talked to us as if we were airhead bimbos."
"You miss the previous Director but Lionel Davenport was acting out a kindly pose to win our affection," said Megan Salenger. Her inquisitive foxlike face under a tousle of short black hair regarded her teammate coolly.
"Oh sure. I realize that. But I appreciate the effort to make us feel comfortable." With her finely-chiseled features, crystal blue eyes and slightly cleft chin, the Unicorn would have been gorgeous even without the sass in her tone and the glee in her expression. "He wanted us to like him, not just be intimidated."
As part of the crowd moving across 83rd, Megan said, "For an espionage organization, INTERCEPT has an unusually respectable reputation. Very few scandals, very few outright blunders. Lionel Davenport had been the sole Director for all the group's existence. He in fact took the post thirty years ago at the same time our KDF was founded."
"Those spiky eyebrows used to crack me up. I rilly wanted to trim them with my nail clippers."
"I am relieved you did not offer to do so." Megan's even, deadpan tone made it difficult to detect any irony or sarcasm. After years of working so closely with the Trom Girl, Ashley felt she could usually spot a remarkably dry sense of humor but she usually could not be sure.
They stopped in front of a shining spike of chrome and white stone that rose up seventy-two stories. The mantle over the front entrance bore the cryptic name WILLETTS and the number 533. "Here we is," Unicorn observed. "Home of Merrick Shale, the world's most famous secret agent."
"The internal contradiction in that phrase does not sit well with me," Trom Girl replied. "Ashley, we both read the file on this man, but do you have any additional information?"
"Tons and tons, mostly rumors with some confirmation," the little blonde promptly replied. "A world-class genius in the body of an Olympic athlete. Eleven doctorates in everything from biochemistry to Constitutional law to ramjet design. Made one fortune in stock trading, another in real estate, another in leasing applications of a patented surgical tool he invented. Won the Kumite in Hong Kong four years in a row. World champion of chessboxing. Flies his own jet and was chef at a five star hotel in New Orleans, but he also speaks seven languages..."
"Stop, please." Megan Salenger's default expression was one of thoughtful contemplation but now a rare scowl of disapproval showed. "He is only thirty-six. Does it strike you that all these accomplishments in a single young man are so unlikely as to suggest fraud?"
'"Well, DUH. He's an over-achiever. His parents probably messed him up by never being satisfied by anything he did. And I didn't even start on all the times he acted as a freelance agent for spy groups like the Mandate and Department 21 Black!"
The Trom Girl seemed to have realized that she had allowed annoyance to make her stoical mask slip. She straightened her shoulders. "Be that as it may. INTERCEPT has asked us to meet with him."
The two of them strolled confidently through an enormous lobby more palatial than most actual palaces. The marble floor inlaid with black speckled patterns, the gold trim on furnishings, the original oil paintings of landscapes were wasted on Ashley and Megan. They had stood before the thrones of Androval and Chujir, being given audience by actual kings and emperors. A facing wall displayed a bank of ten elevators with well-dressed people coming and going.
The two KDF members stepped up to a wall niche which held only a plain unmarked green-painted steel door. Any passerby would decide it gave access to circuit breakers or mops or something mundane. But when Megan and Ashley got close enough to the door, it slid open with a hiss to reveal an elevstor cage. They entered, the door closed and the hum beneath their feet told of their ascent.
"Nice," said Ashley, "But you notice there are no controls. I guess it only goes to one place."
Megan pulled back her sleeve and peeked at what looked to be a normal, slim watch. "We're being X-rayed, Ashley."
"Hah! Let 'em! The Trom armor will keep them from getting a look at our girly bits."
A second later, the door slid open with a ding to reveal a foyer ten feet across, holding a comfortable padded bench, a large potted red-and-blue plant of exotic origin and a table with some current news magazines. Standing in the open inner doorway was a tall blonde woman in an informal business attire. "Good morning," she greeted them. "My name is Monica. Mr Shale will see you."
At first, the woman seemed mousy, perhaps even plain. But Ashley quickly changed her opinion. The fine-textured rosy skin, the dark blue eyes with the green flecks, the curve of the full lips were all remarkably attractive. The hair pulled back in a severe bun and total lack of make-up were deliberate toning down. This woman was downplaying her good looks to seem more professional, and the Unicorn noted this with interest.
They were led into a spacious high-ceilinged penthouse room with windows gazing down at the trees of Central Park. The subdued decor of dark wood and leather was not ostentatious. Shelves along the walls held not only books but various intriguing objects like a bear skull, large pink conch shells, matched dueling pistols and scrimshaw. From behind a paper-strewn desk wide enough to lie down on, Merrick Shale rose with a grin. "Please, seat yourselves and be comfortable. I've heard all about the man whose face was eaten by invisible bugs."
( the rest of the story )
9/11-9/12/2010
I.
Striding briskly up Park Avenue at nine AM, they drew many interested and appreciative glances. Two attractive young women in their early twenties, the platinum blonde Ashley was dressed all in white.. boots, snug jeans and pullover sweater with a rolled collar. Next to her, the slightly taller brunette Megan wore all black...sneakers, slacks and a plain T-shirt under a light windbreaker. This wasn't a deliberate statement or anything, just their preferences.
They stood on the corner of 83rd Street, waiting for the light. The blonde was smiling with the seraphic serenity of extreme confidence. "I really disliked that Mrs Claire," she said. "I bet she has never been in a restaurant where she didn't demand to speak to the manager. And she talked to us as if we were airhead bimbos."
"You miss the previous Director but Lionel Davenport was acting out a kindly pose to win our affection," said Megan Salenger. Her inquisitive foxlike face under a tousle of short black hair regarded her teammate coolly.
"Oh sure. I realize that. But I appreciate the effort to make us feel comfortable." With her finely-chiseled features, crystal blue eyes and slightly cleft chin, the Unicorn would have been gorgeous even without the sass in her tone and the glee in her expression. "He wanted us to like him, not just be intimidated."
As part of the crowd moving across 83rd, Megan said, "For an espionage organization, INTERCEPT has an unusually respectable reputation. Very few scandals, very few outright blunders. Lionel Davenport had been the sole Director for all the group's existence. He in fact took the post thirty years ago at the same time our KDF was founded."
"Those spiky eyebrows used to crack me up. I rilly wanted to trim them with my nail clippers."
"I am relieved you did not offer to do so." Megan's even, deadpan tone made it difficult to detect any irony or sarcasm. After years of working so closely with the Trom Girl, Ashley felt she could usually spot a remarkably dry sense of humor but she usually could not be sure.
They stopped in front of a shining spike of chrome and white stone that rose up seventy-two stories. The mantle over the front entrance bore the cryptic name WILLETTS and the number 533. "Here we is," Unicorn observed. "Home of Merrick Shale, the world's most famous secret agent."
"The internal contradiction in that phrase does not sit well with me," Trom Girl replied. "Ashley, we both read the file on this man, but do you have any additional information?"
"Tons and tons, mostly rumors with some confirmation," the little blonde promptly replied. "A world-class genius in the body of an Olympic athlete. Eleven doctorates in everything from biochemistry to Constitutional law to ramjet design. Made one fortune in stock trading, another in real estate, another in leasing applications of a patented surgical tool he invented. Won the Kumite in Hong Kong four years in a row. World champion of chessboxing. Flies his own jet and was chef at a five star hotel in New Orleans, but he also speaks seven languages..."
"Stop, please." Megan Salenger's default expression was one of thoughtful contemplation but now a rare scowl of disapproval showed. "He is only thirty-six. Does it strike you that all these accomplishments in a single young man are so unlikely as to suggest fraud?"
'"Well, DUH. He's an over-achiever. His parents probably messed him up by never being satisfied by anything he did. And I didn't even start on all the times he acted as a freelance agent for spy groups like the Mandate and Department 21 Black!"
The Trom Girl seemed to have realized that she had allowed annoyance to make her stoical mask slip. She straightened her shoulders. "Be that as it may. INTERCEPT has asked us to meet with him."
The two of them strolled confidently through an enormous lobby more palatial than most actual palaces. The marble floor inlaid with black speckled patterns, the gold trim on furnishings, the original oil paintings of landscapes were wasted on Ashley and Megan. They had stood before the thrones of Androval and Chujir, being given audience by actual kings and emperors. A facing wall displayed a bank of ten elevators with well-dressed people coming and going.
The two KDF members stepped up to a wall niche which held only a plain unmarked green-painted steel door. Any passerby would decide it gave access to circuit breakers or mops or something mundane. But when Megan and Ashley got close enough to the door, it slid open with a hiss to reveal an elevstor cage. They entered, the door closed and the hum beneath their feet told of their ascent.
"Nice," said Ashley, "But you notice there are no controls. I guess it only goes to one place."
Megan pulled back her sleeve and peeked at what looked to be a normal, slim watch. "We're being X-rayed, Ashley."
"Hah! Let 'em! The Trom armor will keep them from getting a look at our girly bits."
A second later, the door slid open with a ding to reveal a foyer ten feet across, holding a comfortable padded bench, a large potted red-and-blue plant of exotic origin and a table with some current news magazines. Standing in the open inner doorway was a tall blonde woman in an informal business attire. "Good morning," she greeted them. "My name is Monica. Mr Shale will see you."
At first, the woman seemed mousy, perhaps even plain. But Ashley quickly changed her opinion. The fine-textured rosy skin, the dark blue eyes with the green flecks, the curve of the full lips were all remarkably attractive. The hair pulled back in a severe bun and total lack of make-up were deliberate toning down. This woman was downplaying her good looks to seem more professional, and the Unicorn noted this with interest.
They were led into a spacious high-ceilinged penthouse room with windows gazing down at the trees of Central Park. The subdued decor of dark wood and leather was not ostentatious. Shelves along the walls held not only books but various intriguing objects like a bear skull, large pink conch shells, matched dueling pistols and scrimshaw. From behind a paper-strewn desk wide enough to lie down on, Merrick Shale rose with a grin. "Please, seat yourselves and be comfortable. I've heard all about the man whose face was eaten by invisible bugs."
( the rest of the story )
