under cover goose on the Titanic

Part 8 - Galactic Deli

I was soon surrounded by what appeared to be racks of dried and canned food but all the labels were in Arabic or Chinese. Nothing looked like something I could eat. The racks were set up at odd angles and offset so the narrow, congested aisles twisted around and doubled back on themselves like a maze. It seemed to get gloomier the further I went into the store. I had a weird feeling it was a Möbius strip. I couldn't find Miguel or Mr Bragg. I was lost in hyperspace at the back of a grocery store. I looked around feeling dizzy.

Mr Bragg's voice brought me back to reality. It was coming from a partially open steel door behind a carton of dusty rubber overshoes. I was about to knock on the door and ask for directions but then a voice boomed impatiently.

'So you brought zde radio-isotopes, goot, but you haf been vurkink at VongTime for months. I do not pay for no information.' The voice was harsh, like a rasp grating over a tin sheet. He sounded angry. 'I VONT RESULTS, SOON! '

'I need more time,' Mr Bragg's begged. 'Please, Murga.'

Adrenalin surged into my blood stream. Murga! I couldn't decide whether to run, so I stood there listening nervously.

'So, Erich,' Murga asked impatiently. 'Vot about Ziff Dion?'

My chest heaved as my heart seemed to stop.

'He's at Silverwood School,' Mr Bragg mumbled. 'He knows nothing.'

'Ein shtupid kid,' Murga ageed contemptuously. 'But, I don't vont to lose him.'

'I promise,' Mr Bragg babbled nervously. 'I will not lose him.'

After a moment Murga hissed, 'Vun ozder matter. Did you see zdat verdammt käseschnitzer, Onderdonk?'

Mr Bragg mumbled something then Murga added, 'I find out he is a Time Agency spy. Zo I haf no choice. He is curtailed definitively . . . Pity, I ruined a good suit.'

'His suit!' Mr Bragg exclaimed. 'What if the police find the body?'

'Har, har.' Murga laughed. 'Not his suit. Mine suit. Har, har. His body decorates a pingo in Nunavut. If police find it, zdey vill tink he is vell preserved, six hundert year old man. Har, har.'

My knees went weak with shock. Murga had killed Triple Oh!

Murga's voice had dropped to a menacing hiss. 'I must finish zdis kronog, zo I can get back, Erich. Don't vaste anymore of my time, Aay?' The final "eh?" was a parody of a Canadian accent, as if he had rehearsed it to deceive an immigration officer.

I ducked behind the overshoes as Mr Bragg stumbled through the door and scurried toward the checkout. He looked terrified. I would have felt sorry for him but I was horrified about Onderdonk's death.

A sizzling noise started up behind the partially open door and a brilliant blue light cast flickering shadows among the racks of produce. A part of my brain was telling me to get out of the store fast, but curiosity won. I stumbled through a clutter of empty boxes and looked through a gap in the door.

It was a walk-in freezer lit by a fluorescent lamp illuminating several animal carcasses dangling from an overhead conveyor. A strange odour filled the air, a mixture of freezer smell and chlorine. There was no sign of Murga. The intense flickering light came from behind a partition making everything seem sharper, brighter, surreal. I had a feeling I ought to know what it was.

I stepped into the room and almost tripped over a man curled up in the corner. I recoiled in horror thinking he was dead but he moved slightly and then I saw his arms and legs were tied. He wore a dirty, torn parka, padded trousers and well-worn boots. The parka hood covered his head and tape had been wrapped around his heavily bearded face covering his mouth. I reached out gingerly and put two fingers to his neck. He had a strong carotid pulse and seemed to be breathing normally. I shook him gently. 'Are you all right?'