The three girls quickly became fast friends. Amanda learned that Janey’s parents came from a long line of ninjas who had left Japan because they were tired of just being ninjas and had high hopes for their children to have a better life as scientists or accountants or maybe actors. Consequently, they were very strict about not letting Janey practice martial arts or read any ninja books, and pushed her very hard to do well in school. Her big brother Jason, whom she idolized, had already been accepted to Harvard for the fall, and her parents couldn’t have been happier. He was thinking of being a podiatrist.
Sandra’s mom and and dad owned a Chinese restaurant*.
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
Amanda crowded more tightly into the crawlspace as the footsteps came running right by, accompanied by taunts and jeers. The kids at this school were just as mean as the kids at the last school. At least those kids were too scared of her to do anything, she’d seen to that, but it had meant her family had to move, and now here it was starting all over again. She could have scared these kids just like the last ones, but she wouldn’t. She just didn’t want to fall down the stairs again.
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
It has been said that time heals all wounds, but Lord Explodington’s wounds had opened up once more and would not, for some time, be stanched. Outside in the meadow, he and Isabel walked and argued, one occasionally turning and walking away in exasperation, only to come back with more fervent remonstrances than ever.
Russ had disappeared somewhere to brood.
Eric sat alone in the cafe, staring at the bottom of his hot cocoa, feeling depressingly ordinary in the mix. Just a few days ago he had felt like quite the daring crusader, plying his trade in the very heart of danger where the merest hint of his identity would mean death, gathering up the valuable evidence he needed to help stop the most horrific of atrocities. And now after all he had witnessed, he felt small, human, and ordinary.
He slammed his fist on the table. This was no time to dwell. There was great evil afoot, and an urgent call for action. Someone had to destroy the prototype, and someone had to bring the plans to Washington. He strode outside with a purpose and interrupted Explodington in mid-snide-remark.
“That’s enough of that,” said Eric. “If one of you could find Russ, we have a plan to stop.”
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
“Indeed,” said Explodington, turning his attention back towards the bomb. Before he could begin work on it, however, a tank burst through the right wall, scattering debris everywhere. Children screamed and dashed away in all directions. Explodington raised a weapon-loaded arm toward the massive vehicle, which in turn aimed its gun directly at his head.
“They’re learning,” he said.
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
“I returned to Antarctica on board the next research vessel, and since then have heard nothing more of Robert Frost or his beautiful daughter Isabel,” said Russ.
“That is the stupidest story I have ever heard,” said Eric.
“How so?” said Russ.
“It was like unearthing the canon of early twentieth-century American literature and the remains of common sense, and alternatingly pissing on each of them.”
“There may have been one or two small inaccuracies…” said Russ.
“Robert Frost,” said Eric, “is not a evil immortal ice wizard with a sinister master plan and a collection of cryogenically frozen historical figures. He is a respected American poet.”
“If you believe the cover story,” said Russ, rolling his eyes.
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
“Dinner was impressive, but I had been invited to sumptuous meals by plenty of wealthy and powerful archnemeses in my time and I was fairly used to the whole rigamarole. We sparred verbally with hints and veiled probes for information and double entendres for a while in between enjoying the rare and endangered animals he had arranged to be served. Isabel was quiet the whole time and spoke little. Only the three of us sat at the table, with only penguin waiters passing in and out regularly to bring food and clear plates.
“‘So, out with it,’ I said finally. ‘What do you want from me?’
“‘You already realize I cannot allow you to leave,’ said Frost. ‘Instead, I would like you to remain here, and marry my daughter Isabel.’
“I blinked and my hand fluttered to my chest. ‘Why, Robert Frost. This is all so sudden. I… I don’t know what to say.’
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
“Frost smiled. ‘You’re familiar with my work, I see.’
“‘I’ve heard of you,’ I said. ‘I have heard your name whispered in the shadows and spoken of in trembling voices in relation to one or two matters which called for my involvement. I dismissed those as rumors from overly active imaginations, though.’
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
It was not hard to find the bomb. A puppy and an orphan were tied together and the bomb was wedged in between them. The whole assembly was tied to a central supporting pillar of the orphanage, and a dizzying array of wires and sensors crisscrossed all the elements of the trap.
“He said if we move, the bomb will go off!” whimpered the child as Russ and Eric drew near. The other children were gathered around, either wailing miserably or watching in fascination, and the nun running the orphanage was folding and unfolding her hands in desperate anxiety. The orphan puppies were still romping around obliviously.
Eric turned to the nun. “Get all these kids out of here, Frau, er, Ms., er…”
“Sister Lucretia,” said the nun, turning hopeful but anxious eyes on Eric. “We can do that, but some of the sickest children are upstairs and can’t be moved from their beds. Also the puppies with cancer.”
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
Russ checked his watch. There was an hour yet until he arrived in Washington. Meanwhile, he reflected on adventures that had occurred prior to the previous chapter, giving some background to the story so far.
It was late 1941 and the Allies were suffering under the relentless attacks of the Germans and Japanese. The United States was being a huge tease about whether they would join the war or not, which was starting to get on the Allies’ nerves. Everyone was pretty tense. There were rumors of horrible atrocities going on in Nazi Germany, but they were pretty crazy stories and everyone knew that people made stuff up about their enemies in a war.
So when Russ stumbled across the plans during his morning walk through a top-secret Nazi weapons lab, he knew he had found something valuable. He liked to stroll through the corridors of the laboratory in the early hours of the morning, while it was dark and most of the staff was sleeping, keeping quietly to himself and contemplating the small and big things in life. He was comfortable in the dark places and was seen, if at all, as a flash of movement or the dim glow of red eyes in the darkness, which had caused something of an urban legend among the researchers.
All the researchers who had never seen him, however, derided these sightings as foolishness, because, come on. Science.
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories
The wind rushed by violently, bursting into erratic gusts now and then, making it difficult for Russ to maintain his footing on top of the zeppelin. The massive aircraft was a unstable battleground, buffeted by the winds of the upper atmopshere. Russ parried his opponent’s thrust and answered with a flurry of attacks that forced the other combatant to retreat.
“You’ll never make it out alive,” sneered his enemy, speaking perfect English with a crisply evil German accent. He had an arrogance born of both nobility and rank, and his appearance had been carefully groomed to match his high opinion of himself. His dark grey SS uniform was immaculate and decorated with extra swastikas for effect. He tested Russ with a feint, which was easily batted aside.
“Neither will you, Baron von Count,” said Russ. “I presume that is whom I am addressing?”
Read the rest of this entry »
Posted in Stories