I was chary of returning to JK’s lair after the peril that had last met us there. “Should we report back to HQ and let them know about Mr. Anderson?” I asked.
Shelia kept speeding forward without looking at me. “That was pure chicanery. He’s a prisoner of Dr. Cool.”
This was news to me. “Then why did gaurds hustle him to safety during the cacophony?”
She shook her head. “They were preventing him from escaping. Dr. Cool thought Mr. Anderson could give you a cogent argument to stay put until things cooled off. Mr. Anderson agreed, but then he was capricious and started giving you hints. Why did he say he was out in the dessert?”
I thought back. “He said something about avarice.”
“That’s one of the seven deadly sins. That’s a clue.”
“So Mr. Anderson is bolstering our side, so he must be an ally?”
“I’m not sure he’s an ally or was just getting tired of treating Dr. Cool with complaisance. I’m sure he’s being censured as we speak, though.”
“So whose side is he on?”
“His own of course. Isn’t that the adventurer’s canon?”
Shelia pulled the hovercraft behind a dune, but instead of barren dessert, a bucolic panorama lay in front of us.
“Agriculture!” I exclaimed.
Shelia shook her head. “This is no normal agriculture. Look at the way the plants burgeon.”
I watched a corn stalk grow several centimeters in front of me. “Good Heavens! How is this possible?”
Shelia pointed at the ground. “There’s a catalyst in the soil. The plants grow quickly, but their fruit is caustic.”
“Yes.” said a voice behind us, “and very toxic. Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”
We did as told. And found outselves facing a woman in a white catsuit.
“So, we meet again, Mr Anderson.” she smiled, “But this time you’ll face castigation for your trespassing. You will receive the canonical mistreatment of spies!”