Read + Write + Report
Home | Start a blog | About Orble | FAQ | Sites | Writers | Advertise | My Orble | Login

Inside the mind of a superspy - by JaneJane

Part 19 - Borenore

November 30th 2006 11:51
A steady stream of cars drove out to Borenore. I sped by them, using the oncoming traffic lane. Not far past the town everyone turned off to a dirt road. Cars parked in an empty paddock to the side of an old farm house. Beyond the paddock were trees and beyond them I could see another empty field as I pushed through the crowd of onlookers. Most of the people were safely hidden in the shadows; some were brave enough to venture into the knee high grass of the second paddock. Everyone looked toward the sky. I checked my watch; it was a little after ten-o-five.


From the edge of the shadows and I looked up. Two bright lights moved slowly across the clouded night. Four smaller lights buzzed around more quickly. Were these the lights of some type of mind ray or were they from something much more alien? I stood near a man and a woman. The woman giggled lightly. Holding hands, they walked, hesitantly, into the empty field of grass.

The couple reached the middle of the paddock, the light from the clouds reflected back down to them. They continued holding hands and walked a little further. I gasped along with the rest of the crowd, the man and woman disappeared, completely.

I ran into the field, excited. This was why I was here, this was what I had hoped to find, something completely unnatural with no logical explanation.

I got to the spot where the couple had vanished; there was nothing unusual about it. I took one step forward and everything changed. It was no longer night. The field took on a burning glow, like at the end of a rainy day when the western horizon has cleared. It was hot. The grass of the field had been soft and fresh, now it was dry and brown, ready for fire. A crowd of people, perhaps 50 or more, stood in the middle of the paddock, surrounding a strange piece of machinery - the mind ray? Sitting on top of the strange mechanical thing was an ancient woman; she wrote in a book that was open on her lap. Two guards stood to either side of the machinery. They were strange to look at; half man, half woman. I took a step toward them and they disappeared. The paddock was again dark. The grass was fresh. The people, the machinery and the old woman were gone. For a moment longer the lights continued to flash across the sky. I stood silently watching, then they were extinguished.


I saw shadows moving near the bushland on the other side of the field. I ran to them. From a distance I saw the figure of a person stand-up and run to the trees. I followed.

I became aware of several more people running in front of me, away from me. I ran faster and got closer to one of them. I jumped forward and knocked them to the ground. It was a young man, average and ordinary. He pushed me off and tried to run away but I held onto his foot. He tried to kick me but only succeeded in helping me bring him to the ground again. He twisted and landed on his back with a thud. I scrambled on top of him and pinned him down.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer.

I rolled him onto his front and twisted his arm up behind his back. “Who are you!?” He still didn’t answer. Then someone jumped on me from behind. I landed face first between the shoulder-blades of my prisoner, dazed for a moment.

When my senses returned I was on my back, six men stood in a circle looking down at me. One of them shone a bright light into my eyes. “What do we do with her now?” one of them asked nervously.

“I don’t know her,” said another with a gruff voice. “Do you know her?”

It was agreed that none of them knew me.

“So what do we do?” asked the gruff voice again.

“Duno. Kill her?” I wasn’t going to have any truck with that nonsense.

“Here’s what you are going to do,” I said. “You are going to stand there and let me beat the living daylights out of each and every one of you, then you are all going to roll around in agony for a while so I’ve got time to tie you up. Then you are going to wait here while I get the police and, finally, you are going to listen very carefully when they ask what you were doing here tonight."

And that’s exactly what they did.
41
Vote
   


Part 18 – Cow Pats in Orange

November 27th 2006 08:46
One week sifting Cow Poo. It was just what I needed to prove my ability to my Boss and be the first woman within the ministry to be in a permanent covert role. I had no time to lose.

I packed an overnight bag with my spare jumpsuit and a reasonable supply of cosmetics, got behind the wheel of my car and drove into the pink sunset, headed for Orange.

When I arrived I realised how an animal in a zoo must feel. As an under-cover agent I was going to have to be less conspicuous. I dashed into the first women’s clothing store I could find, my skin tight leather bodysuits might have been all the rage in Sydney, but they obviously hadn’t taken on here yet.

Denim over-alls, a plaid shirt and a straw hat became my new uniform.

I checked into a small motel and set about finding my counterpart – the one who’d sent the message about the cow pats. I needed to know, where were these cows? Who was their owner? What other words were they poo-ing? Was the disaster they spelt the mind-ray that was destroying the Ministry’s best agents or did they foretell of some greater calamity?

As I passed the Baptist Church Hall, the poster on the notice board displaying the words “Cow Pats!” caught my eye. Was this a clue?

On the line below the poster said, “Here! Tonight! 8:30!”

This was going to be a lot easier than I expected. These cow pats must have become something of a local phenomenon if they were being advertised. It would seem that all I had to do was turn up here tonight at 8:30.

Certain I was to meet my counterpart and solve the mystery of the disaster (and hopefully the mind-ray) I returned to my hotel to rest up before what was surely going to be a big night.

-o0o-

At 8:15 I returned to the church hall and waited by the sign. People entered and left the building, music blared from inside each time the door opened. By 8:45 I was still standing there alone and had become despondent.

I entered the hall in the hope I might find a ladies toilet where I could sit quietly contemplating what to do next.

The hall was decorated with streamers and balloons. Bales of hay were scattered around the edges and a group of young adults danced together in the middle. A band was assembled on the stage. They sang, almost shouted, a very loud song, I don’t see how their music would get beyond Orange with that style of discordant sound.

The chorus began, “S-p-e double-elle, double-elle, double-elle, dis, dis, dis, dis-a-s-t-e-r,” they sang as I asked a woman ladling punch where I could find the ladies room.

It was outside, out the back. I entered the privacy of a cubical, locked the door and sat on the toilet with the lid down sipping whisky from my Ministerial issued hip flask.

The next 6 days of my mission stretched out ahead of me like a band of half set gum. I was never going to get to the other end and all I could do was wait for it to snap.

Someone entered the cubicle next to me. She was not alone.

“No Ron, I already told you, I don’t want to go see the lights. Now get out, I’ve gotta pee!”

“Come on baby. I know you want to come with me, it’ll be OK. I won’t try anything, just see the lights and I’ll take you home.”

“No Ron, let go of me will ya, I gotta pee,” she sounded distressed.

“Gimme a kiss first!”

“No! You’re hurting me!”

“Come on, just give me a kiss and I’ll let go,” he insisted.

I wasn’t going to sit and listen to this woman being attacked. I climbed onto the toilet seat, leant over the wall separating the cubicles and clobbered Ron over the head with my flask. “Kiss that!” I said as he slumped to the floor.

The woman, who’s name was Sue, looked at me with appreciation. I let her have her pee in quite while I dragged Ron outside and tied him to the front of his car. I was intrigued by the lights he had so wanted to take Sue to see. When he was secure I splashed the last dribble of whisky from my flask into his mouth, forcing him awake, and asked him what he was talking about.

“Ten miles out of town, just past Borenore,” he said, “every night at 10 pm sharp. They float back and forth across the sky for 10 minutes exactly. Strange things happen out there. People go to watch and are never seen again.”

In a flash I was running back to my motel and my car. It was already 9:30, I had no time to waste!
41
Vote
   


More Posts
2 Posts
2 Posts
3 Posts
21 Posts dating from September 2006
Email Subscription
Receive e-mail notifications of new posts on this blog:

JaneJane's Blogs

2656 Vote(s)
3 Comment(s)
35 Post(s)
604 Vote(s)
2 Comment(s)
18 Post(s)
Moderated by JaneJane
Copyright © 2006 2007 2008 On Topic Media PTY LTD. All Rights Reserved. Design by Vimu.com.
On Topic Media ZPages: Sydney |  Melbourne |  Brisbane |  London |  Birmingham |  Leeds     [ Advertise ] [ Contact Us ] [ Privacy Policy ]