"Don't worry, girlie—those stupid bent wand things make a big bang, is all. Just you see if you can't wriggle free from Mr Beardy Knob-head there, and I'll find something extra special for him in my bag of tricks. I'm thinking a bit of the old squirty-bum, or maybe some explodey up-chuck—that's always a good'un. Maybe even both. He looks like he could do with a bit of unclogging."
Fields lined up his sights in the centre of Radovic's forehead. "Embers, don't listen to the witch. That wand can kill you."
The princess rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Honestly Eel, if I didn't already know that do you think this wretched fellow would still be capable of fathering children? Peregrine explained guns to me back at the house. Now, if it's not too much trouble, kindly rescue me at once."
"I don't think so." Radovic pressed his gun harder into Embers' temple, making her wince. "You may as well lower your weapon, Agent Fields. This control room is bullet-proof. Even so, any sudden moves, and the princess dies."
"No, please." Featherstone was clearly distraught. "I really liked that one, Dr Radovic. And I don't think she hated me nearly as much as the others. Please don't kill her, too."
"Shut up, Frank. Now, agents, as this young woman has proven to be something of a handful, I'm going to release her from the control room, so that my colleague and I might work in peace. You two..."—he shot a suspicious glance at the witch, who gave him a cheerful wink—"you three are going to behave yourselves and stay very still while I do so. Frank, lower the ladder."
"Yes, Dr Radovic." Featherstone ducked down out of sight, and moments later, with a mechanical whirr, a steep metallic stairway extended smoothly down from the underside of the loft. No sooner had it touched down with a gentle clank, a little in front of the monster enclosure, than Embers began to clamber down.
"I'm so glad you're back, Dr Radovic." Displaying another of the rapid switches in mood to which he seemed prone, Featherstone's voice now radiated childlike enthusiasm. "I've made some really exciting breakthroughs since we last spoke. My new algorithms have practically doubled the wavelength of the probability-curve amplifiers. There's been some issues with stability, and I had to move the portal out into the hangar where there's more space, but you simply won't believe what I've been able to import."
The moment Embers' feet touched the floor, the stairway began to retract. "A dragon, Frank? Seriously? How do you propose we contain that? Are you going to keep it on a leash? Honestly, I can't leave you alone for five minutes. First, you're wasting your time mooning over those wretched fairy-tale princesses, and now we've got a dragon to deal with. There can be no distractions, not until the time is right. You need to grow up, Frank. I can't keep on cleaning up your messes forever."
Gown now a little worse for wear, but still as radiant as ever, Embers ran to the agents, enveloping them in a group hug. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you both. The moment you disappeared over the edge of the crater, that wretched man pointed his gun at me and forced me to go with him. I'm ever so sorry for any trouble I've caused."
Never much of a hugger, Fields was a little taken aback to find himself sandwiched between his partner and the princess. A little taken aback, and a little...something else. Nipping that thought off in the bud, he gently extricated himself. "That's okay. Radovic slipped under all of our radars."
Peregrine gave Ember's shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah, don't sweat it, Slugger. What I want to know is how the hell did you both get up in that control room?"
"Through a tunnel, my dear Peregrine. Not far from where you left your dear Pearl, that horrid fellow directed me into the concealed entrance to a tunnel. It was most dreadfully musty and frightfully dank, however, after what seemed an interminable amount of trudging, we arrived at a stairway which led to the room in question. I must say, I really feared my time in this strange new world had taken a decided turn for the worse, so you can imagine how pleased I was when I saw you both."
"A tunnel?" Fields queried with a frown. "There was nothing about tunnels in the Wikipedia article on this place."
Peregrine leaned in closer to her partner. "In that case," she whispered, "I think we may need to get our info from an alternative source."
Fields patted his pocket. "No signal, remember?" he whispered back, wondering why the sudden need for quiet.
"I'm not talking about the internet, Fields. We need something a little more immediate than that."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like this. Watch." With a wink, she turned to face the control room. "You know," she said, her voice back at its usual volume, "you'll never get away with this, Prof. However smart you and Featherstone might think you are, we're on to you and your scheme. The Agency is on to you. It's only a matter of time before you go down."
"Oh, really?" Radovic glared down in obvious contempt at the strange little group clustered together on the hangar floor, their shadows dancing crazily before them in synchronous harmony with the pulsating green light looming to their rear. "Do you really think you have the first clue about my scheme, as you so foolishly call it? Do you really think me naive enough to believe the Agency even knows you're here, after you've turned up with that ridiculous prince and princess in tow? Are your employers really in the habit of sending potential witnesses along on investigations? No, you and your partner are quite clearly on your own. Please, Agent Peregrine, let's at least be sensible enough to acknowledge who the smart people in this situation are."
"Wasn't so smart to release your hostage though, was it?" challenged Peregrine. "Your only bargaining chip? Even if the Agency doesn't know where we are—and they do—what's to stop us waltzing on out of here and calling the cavalry? Not so smart know, are you, Prof?"
"Doctor," corrected Radovic. "Doctor, please." He began to pace along the front of the control room. "I'll tell you precisely what is stopping you, Agent Peregrine. Firstly, there is the inter-dimensional portal behind you, through which my colleague can, if he chooses, summon someone, or something, with suitable stopping power. Secondly"—he pressed a finger down onto the control panel before him—"there is now 10,000 volts running through the fence outside, over which you no doubt climbed to get here. Thirdly, there is the fact that in just a few moments"—he pressed down on a different section of the panel—"the door through which you entered this building will seal itself shut." From somewhere behind the light there came a faint but depressingly definite clank.
"Okay, you've got me there," acknowledged Peregrine, stifling a yawn. "Nice set up you've got here. You a bit of a handyman in you spare time, Prof?"
"Of course not. And it's doctor!" The speed of Radovic's pacing increased. "You see, back in the 60s and 70s, the Novus Institute's range of research activities was somewhat...broader than it is today. And much less restricted by ethical oversight. This facility was a key venue for many of their less publicly known projects—the testing of chemical weapons, nerve gas, biological agents and so on. Hence the need for a containable facility, with concealed access, along with a hermetically sealed, completely secure control room, equipped with electronic communication. And hence the availability of the perfect place for Frank to advance his research to a new level, and for the...results to be contained and controlled."
Fields leaned in towards Peregrine. "Monologuing," he whispered, with an admiring shake of his head. "You got him monologuing."
"Yep," she whispered back. "These evil geniuses—they can't help themselves." She yawned again, this time openly. "Yada yada, Prof," she called out. "Does this story have a point? Or even better, an ending?"
Radovic stopped pacing. "Doctor!" he yelled, pounding on the window with his fist. "Call me doctor, damn you! And this story most certainly does have a point, you cretinous woman. The point, you vacuous idiots, you poor, dimwitted, feeble-minded fools, is that this world is about to change. The point, you pathetic nobodies, is that the natural order of existence is about to be overturned. The point, you insignificant specks of irrelevance, you absolute nothings, is that a new power, a power the likes of which this world has never seen, is about to be unleashed. And that power will be wielded by me! The day of Radovic is here! I will reign over this world! I will—"
"Er, excuse me, Dr Radovic, but I think I—"
"Shut up, Frank. I will tower over this planet like a colossus. With the power to summon anything I desire, anything I need, anything at all, with a power, a strength, a might heretofore unknown to humanity, I—will—be—as—a—god!"
Portentous silence greeted this pronouncement, until it was broken by the witch—blowing a raspberry. "Oh, cram it up your divine arse, you great blow-hard." Holding up a pinkie, she wiggled it provocatively. "Over-compensating, much?"