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Max Remy Superspy 02: Spyforce Revealed

ePub ISBN 9781742745077

Random House Australia Pty Ltd
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http://www.randomhouse.com.au

Sydney New York Toronto
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and agencies throughout the world

First published in 2002
Text copyright Â© Deborah Abela 2002
Illustrations copyright Â© Jobi Murphy 2002

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publisher.

National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Abela, Deborah.
Max Remy superspy. Part two: spyforce revealed.

For children aged 9â€“12 years old.
ISBN 174051 766 0.

1. Spies - Juvenile fiction. I. Title.

A823.4

Photograph of the author by Todd Decker
Cover and internal illustrations and design by Jobi Murphy

For Todd

What Happened
Last Time

A letter from Max Remy, Superspy

Okay, listen. Iâ€™m only going to say this once. Just in case you missed what happened last time. My name is Max Remy. Iâ€™m eleven, I live with my busy mother while my dad is a famous film director who lives in America with his young actress wife. I hate school, especially the slime- brained Toby Jennings who enjoys making my life a complete misery. To get away from him and the other jerks I have to share this planet with, Iâ€™ve invented Alex Crane, a secret spy who works for the international intelligence agency called Spyforce.

The whole story started when I was parcelled off to the country last summer to stay with my hick aunt and uncle. But guess what? They werenâ€™t the chicken farmers I thought they were, but world famous scientists working on a Time and Space Machine! Trouble was, to finish the machine, Ben needed to find his brother, Francis, whom he hadnâ€™t spoken to in years because of a fight they had while working together in London.

With my new friend Linden, I used the machine to travel to England where we found Benâ€™s brother but also met this evil guy, Mr Blue, who wanted to steal the Time and Space Machine for himself to use as part of his sinister schemes to rule the world. Soon, though, we ruined his plans and saved humanity from certain doom.

But guess what? When we arrived back in Australia, we got a telegram from Spyforce thanking us for our bravery. From Spyforce! And I thought Iâ€™d just made them up.

Anyway, thatâ€™s all I have time to tell you. Any other details, youâ€™ll just have to read the first book.

Now, letâ€™s get on with the story.

Alex looked out the open exit of the small twin-engine plane as it swooped above the dense treetops of the Amazon jungle. The thick canopy of green hurtled beneath them like an enormous ocean, each treetop another wave in a vast flurry that seemed to last forever. They were flying so close Alex was sure that if she ran a hand along the leaves, she could have scooped up the dew that was sprinkled over the jungle like a giant handful of liquid gold. She fixed her eyes on the landscape below and thought to herself, whoever was responsible for making the world was showing off when they made this part.

Suddenly the plane lurched sideways as it struck a pocket of turbulence. Alexâ€™s head hit the cold metal wall with a thud as the giant of a man who was in charge of the mission launched another tirade against the pilot.

â€˜Whereâ€™d you get your licence from? The back of a cereal box? My three-year-old nephew could fly this plane better than you. Iâ€™ve heard theyâ€™ve trained chimps that could outdo your aviation skills.â€™

Alex was impressed. Sheâ€™d been dealing with Blueâ€™s thugs for years and â€˜aviationâ€™ was the longest word sheâ€™d ever heard from any of them.

The pilotâ€™s face remained unchanged. Heâ€™d heard all about this guy from the other pilots and had already filled his ears with cottonwool so that none of his cursing could filter through.

The suited tough adjusted his seatbelt tighter around his waist before pulling out a floral handkerchief and wiping his brow. The short, fat guy sitting next to him stared.

â€˜Floral?â€™ he smirked.

â€˜It was a present from my daughter.â€™ The tough guy said it like a warning, his nerves making him more edgy than usual.

Heâ€™d been nervous since the trip began and if Alexâ€™s guess was right, the pilot was as skilled as they came and was getting great pleasure out of the occasional and â€˜unexpectedâ€™ turbulence the plane was experiencing.

Just then, the short, fat guy buried his head in his lap and filled another sickbag with vomit. Alex thought she saw the faintest of grins on the pilotâ€™s face.

She adjusted the miniature parachute on her back and crawled across the metal floor of the cargo plane between wooden crates that were stacked like bowling pins. Taking out her laser knife, she carefully broke the reinforced seals on a few of the crates before she found it. A small humidifier case that, if she was right, was packed with exactly what she was looking for and it was her job to get her hands on it before the case reached Blue.

Alex had boarded the plane in a village called Manaus on the banks of the Amazon River. Well, not quite â€˜boardedâ€™. She â€˜snuck onâ€™ while Mr Blueâ€™s thugs were busy working out new ways to yell at the locals who were about to fly them into the jungleâ€™s deep and mysterious heart. On top of their fear of flying, the thugs were also nervous about their destination. It was said to have been cursed for any white person who entered. Stories had been told of only three known attempts to defy the curse and how each of the trespassers had been struck down by a hideous rash that slowly encrusted their skin before they slipped into a deep and fatal coma.

Alex was taking a big risk going on this mission, but it was a risk worth taking in order to thwart Blueâ€™s latest villainous operation. Blue had heard about an ancient plant that grew in the Amazon and had remained secret for thousands of years except to a few locals. The Tropaeolum majorium, or Fire of Life, was a small, innocent-looking plant with a large orange flower that when combined with a few other green leafy fronds and put through a precise fermentation process, produced an elixir to preserve life for eternity. A veritable fountain of youth. The locals who drank it had been alive for hundreds of years but no one looked over thirty years old. Anyone with half a brain, even a quarter of a brain with slight malfunctions, would know that the potion would revolutionise the world, but would also lead to massive overpopulation and, whatâ€™s worse, having to put up with Blue longer than any planet could bear.

After finding out about the plant by some sneaky, covert scheming, Blue tricked a few locals into selling him the plant, paying them a fraction of what he stood to make. He also made a few grand promises he had no intention of honouring once heâ€™d got what he wanted.

Thump! The plane hit another air pocket as Alex carefully took the humidifying case from its crate. She knew she was holding something precious, something nature and history had protected for centuries and that if Blue got his hands on it, she was letting down all of that. She looked through the small, glass window in the side of the case and saw it: the leaves and the orange flower. She had to succeed.

The plane hummed beneath them as she carefully placed the case in her backpack, secured the straps and crawled back to the exit hatch at the side of the plane. Checking her parachute one more time, she readied herself to unhook the rope that was strung across the exit, when the plane struck another jolt of turbulence. Alex lost her grip and was flung into the aisle of the plane in full view of Blueâ€™s thugs. Their eyes only just managed to stay in their sockets. First from fear and then from the shock of seeing her.

The bigger thug looked at the crates and saw theyâ€™d been tampered with. His eyes then slowly moved towards Alex like a shark silently swimming towards its next meal.

â€˜I think you might have something that belongs to us,â€™ he said in a voice dripping with quiet menace.

Alex sprang towards the exit and in one smooth move, unhooked the rope. She stood on the edge, said a small prayer to whichever god may have been listening and jumped. But as she did, a strap on her backpack caught on a metal railing, leaving her dangling high above the trees. If she fell, it would mean certain and messy doom.

The thug moved towards her like she was an annoying insect he was about to crush. A smile crept onto his lips. Alex struggled to release the strap but it was no good, with all her weight hanging from it, sheâ€™d never succeed.

The thug curled one arm around the metal railing while the other held a knife ready to cut Alex free from the backpack and from the living world, leaving the plant to become the unfortunate property of Blue. He worked the blade across the straps as Alex looked down at her feet waving above the jungle and contemplated her possible last moments of life. Just then one strap was cut. Her body was flung sideways through the air and slammed into the plane. A small blue package jolted free from her pocket and silently grew smaller beneath her as it disappeared into the jungle. The thug, despite his fear of heights, laughed a measly, itchy laugh.

â€˜Bye-bye, Ms Crane. I doubt even you could save yourself this time.â€™

Is this the end of Alex Crane? Will she free herself from the plane and Blueâ€™s thugs? Will she be able to save the Tropaeolum majorium? Will she escape in time to

â€˜Aow!â€™

Max rubbed the spot on her head where the small blue box crashed into it. It lay a few centimetres beyond her feet and was no doubt flung at her by some giant brainhead with nothing better to do with their intelligence than prove to the world they didnâ€™t have any. She looked at the box and read the message on the side: â€˜Personality delivery for Max Remyâ€™. She rolled her eyes. It was a wonder the entire school didnâ€™t self-combust from an overload of humour.

Max scanned the school playground to see who the culprit might be.

Suspects No 1, 2 and 3: Anthony, Richard and Andy. Also known as the Three Stinkos, not because they smelled, even though that was up for debate, but because they once let off a stink bomb during assembly when Veronica Preston was receiving her â€˜Oh You Are So Great At Everything Awardâ€™. (Or something like that.) It was pretty funny, except the whole school had to stand in the hot sun as the stink got worse and listen to the principal lecture them on why the world would be a better place if they all liked each other. Why do adults do that when they know kids hate it?

Suspect No 4: Russell Allen, or Suss Russ. He was a bit of a loner who spent a lot of his time doing weird things like arranging small pebbles on the ground to look like famous musicians. Heâ€™d then call kids over and say, â€˜Guess which rock star that is?â€™ Some people said he collected other strange things too, like shoelaces, and that he even had one from some dead prime minister from the 1920s. Weird.

Suspects No 5 and 6: Antonia Balldalucia and Brigita Stevenson. Max knew they didnâ€™t like her since she accidentally spilt her chocolate milk all over them on the bus one hot afternoon. They never believed it wasnâ€™t deliberate no matter how many times she said it. They just glared at her as the milk spread into long brown stains on their uniforms and looked oddly like a map of Italy. After the forty-minute bus trip, the maps had curdled and their walk home was accompanied by the cries of hungry cats. Max spent most of her time trying to avoid standing near them while she was holding any kind of liquid.

Prime suspects: Toby Jennings and Co. There they were sitting on the steps of the main hall like they owned the place. All they needed were a few suits worn over some fat stomachs and they would have resembled overstuffed businessmen carving up the world like a Sunday roast. The first time sheâ€™d met them, sheâ€™d just arrived at Hollingdale (Maxâ€™s third new school in five years) and she made the mistake of accepting an apple they offered her. She thought they were just trying to be nice but when she took a bite, her teeth sank into the middle of a plump, unsuspecting and cleverly placed worm. Toby and his mates had dug a long, thin hole into the apple, slid the worm in and corked it up with a small piece of the fruit. Max had to rinse her mouth out for one hour with Mr Fayoudâ€™s mouthwash before she started feeling normal again. Sometimes, out of nowhere, she still got the taste of worm in her mouth. These suspects were definitely not to be trusted. Ever.

Other suspects: The rest of the playground.

Maxâ€™s shoulders slumped. Anybody could have thrown the box.

Just then the bell chimed its awful shopping centre drone. Like Tinkerbell caught in a time warp. Ms Peasley, the principal, had it installed rather than a clanging bell because she said it fostered a more harmonious school environment. She actually said that! Where do these people get these ideas from? It might as well have been signalling the end of civilisation, Max thought, as she prepared to face another two hours with some of the worldâ€™s undiscovered animal kingdom.

After sheâ€™d packed away her lunchbox, she picked up the small blue box and tossed it in the closest bin before going to class.

From:

Max Remy

To:

lindenfranklin@loonmail.com.au

Subject:

Things

Dear Linden,

Just got your email. Thanks! Everything here is pretty normal â€¦ normal for my life anyway. Toby topped the class again in science yesterday and youâ€™d think heâ€™d just won the Nobel Prize the way Mrs Grimshore was going on about it. Dad is still making that big film in LA. And get this! He was having lunch the other day when he met Steven Spielberg. He said heâ€™s a nice guy, too. He doesnâ€™t get a lot of time to answer my email, but thatâ€™s okay. Dadâ€™s always really busy. He sent me this great top that Iâ€™m wearing now. He has the best taste. Mum got this promotion which means sheâ€™s even more manic than ever, so most of the time she hardly even notices Iâ€™m here. Oh and sheâ€™s got this new obsession with wheatgrass. Every morning she grinds up this bunch of green grass and makes us both drink it. Iâ€™m not kidding. She grows it on the windowsill and it looks just like normal grass. Iâ€™m not sure what she thinks itâ€™s going to do apart from make me gag and sprout small saplings from my tongue. She said she read that it will make us live longer or get younger or something. Iâ€™ll just ride this fad out until she finds another one. But she better make it quick, I donâ€™t know how much more paddock food I can stomach.

â€˜Max, honey? Itâ€™s time for dinner.â€™

Â 

Great! The food guru has just called. Maybe if I stay quiet, sheâ€™ll forget Iâ€™m here. Sheâ€™s good at that. Iâ€™ve written another Alex adventure Iâ€™ll attach. See what you think. She is on assignment in the Amazon. Why canâ€™t my life be like hers? Do you think Spyforce will ever contact us again? I still keep the telegram they sent us in my pocket. Mum put it through the wash once so it looks a little crumpled, but you can still read it.

Â 

â€˜Max? Did you hear me? Dinner is on the table.â€™

Max sighed and stopped typing.

â€˜Coming!â€™

Â 

Sorry Linden, gotta go. The wicked witch is calling. Iâ€™ll talk to you tomorrow. Say hello to Ben and Eleanor for me.

Â 

Max paused as she tried to think of a way to sign off. She decided to keep it simple.

Â 

From Max

Â 

She logged off and shut down the computer. She missed Linden. He was the only one who could make her laugh. Even if his jokes were dumb. Before she met him she was happy not having any friends. Sheâ€™d made heaps before but just when she was happy, her mum and dad would decide to move again and she had to say goodbye to them, so it was easier not to make any in the first place. But with Linden, it was different. She didnâ€™t have to see him all the time to know they were good friends.

She leant into the cactus on her desk.

â€˜Think yourself lucky youâ€™re not a human and you donâ€™t have a mother making your life a misery.â€™

Max stood up and opened the door onto the landing at the top of the stairs. She stopped when she heard voices coming from the kitchen. There was her motherâ€™s voice talking at a million miles an hour like she normally did, and someone else. A man. Her mum never mentioned anyone coming to dinner and she hadnâ€™t heard the doorbell ring either. He must have come home with her. Why didnâ€™t her mother get that she liked to be warned when someone else was going to be here? Was that too much to ask?

She tiptoed down the stairs, listening hard and trying to work out who the man was. She crouched low and put her ear against the kitchen door. Her mum was going on about some new show that was starting on TV and how it was going to stop the world, blah blah blah, and whoever the mystery man was, was agreeing with her like she was telling him the secret of life no one had ever stumbled on before.

This was going to be too much. If Max had to sit in a room listening to this all night she was sure she was going to explode. She wouldnâ€™t be able to stop it. Her whole insides would splatter across the walls and floor and down the front of their designer clothes and overdone expressions.

Then, just as Max was turning around to creep back up the stairs, the kitchen door swung open and her mother only just stopped herself from tripping over Maxâ€™s crouching body. What she didnâ€™t stop was her glass of red wine from spilling all over Max.

â€˜What on earth are you doing on the floor? Didnâ€™t you hear me call you for dinner? And look at your new shirt. How am I ever going to get that stain out?â€™

Now this scenario could have run a few ways. Some mothers, distraught that they had almost trampled their only beloved child, would have bent down and kissed them repeatedly as they became overwhelmed by the near fatal tragedy. Others may have swept their precious daughter snugly into their arms while they apologised for ruining a brand new shirt that had been given to them as a present. And others may have just felt really bad as they offered a simple and quiet apology.

None of these ever happened in Maxâ€™s house.

She looked down at her shirt and only just managed to hold back a blood-curdling scream when she saw it was totally ruined.

Then Maxâ€™s mother remembered she had a guest and forgot all about the new shirt.

â€˜Thereâ€™s someone in the kitchen Iâ€™d like you to meet,â€™ she said, suddenly sounding all bright.

â€˜Now?â€™ Max was horrified. How could her mother even think of her meeting anyone when she was dripping with wine?

A head then appeared from behind the door.

â€˜Hi. Iâ€™m Aidan. Iâ€™ve heard heaps about you, Maxine.â€™

Anyone clever enough would see there were a few problems here. First, no one, but no one, ever called her Maxine. That is one of those really important laws of nature you must never forget, like, â€˜remember to breathe or you will dieâ€™.

Also, as he made this monumental error against nature, he held out his hand. Max lowered her eyelids to give him a half-eye stare. Sheâ€™d never heard about this Maxine-calling nobody before and she certainly wasnâ€™t about to make physical contact with him. He looked away awkwardly as his hand slowly made its way to a pocket for safety.

Aidan? Iâ€™ve never heard of any Aidan, she thought. And how come he knows about me? Because from his bad clothes and the fact that heâ€™s about thirty years younger than my mother, I know all I want to know about him.

There was an uncomfortable pause as nobody knew what to say. A trickle of red wine dribbled from Maxâ€™s head down her face, adding another stain to her shirt.

â€˜Iâ€™m going to get changed,â€™ she said.

â€˜Well donâ€™t be long, sweetheart,â€™ Maxâ€™s mum said with a nervous giggle. â€˜Dinnerâ€™s getting cold.â€™

If Max had been given a choice of being banished to the coldest regions of Siberia or facing a dinner with her mother and whoever this Aidan was, sheâ€™d have known what would have been worse. But since Siberia was out of the question, she changed her clothes and made her way back downstairs.

â€˜Aah, there you are,â€™ said her mum in a sickly sweet voice that was like having your head dunked in a barrel of honey. â€˜Iâ€™ve kept your dinner warm for you.â€™

Sweet voice, nice gestures. Max wanted to know where her real mother was.

There was another awkward pause as her dinner was placed in front of her.

â€˜So how was school today?â€™

Now she really knew this wasnâ€™t her mother. She never asked about school.

â€˜Fine,â€™ she said, trying to eat as fast as possible so she could escape to somewhere saner.

Awkward pause number three. This meal was going to be worse than Max thought. The ticking of the clock above the fridge got louder and louder.

â€˜Well,â€™ said her mother, which never meant good news for Max. â€˜I thought it was about time you and Aidan got to meet.â€™

Her mother looked at her like it was Maxâ€™s turn to speak but she didnâ€™t know what to say, so she kept eating instead.

â€˜Aidan is my boyfriend.â€™

Max dropped her fork sending bits of spaghetti worming all over her lap. Boyfriend? What boyfriend, she thought. Iâ€™ve never heard Mum mention a boyfriend before. When did all this happen? People her age donâ€™t have boyfriends. Theyâ€™re too old for that kind of thing.

Max was picking spaghetti strands from her lap and wondering why the world just got so crazy. Her mum continued talking.

â€˜So I thought it would be good if you two got to know each other.â€™

You know those times when everything seems to stand still and every second passes like itâ€™s an hour? When you want to jump up and get out of where you are but youâ€™re stuck and it seems like youâ€™ll be there forever? This was one of those times.

â€˜Iâ€™ve got homework to do,â€™ said Max as she wiped her mouth on her napkin and stood up.

As she closed the kitchen door behind her, she heard her mother say, â€˜I think that went quite well, donâ€™t you?â€™

Thatâ€™s how it was with her mother. Everything was measured as having gone well or bad. She thought most of what Max did was bad and if things went her way, then everything was going well. It was at times like this when Max missed her dad more than anything.

Upstairs, Max closed her bedroom door, changed into her pyjamas and prepared to stay there all night. Emailing Linden or writing another Alex Crane adventure would make her feel better. She turned on her computer and discovered sheâ€™d received an unusual email. It was marked Top Secret and came with a list of instructions and questions before she could open it.

Â 

Secure file

The following email is to be opened by M. Remy. Any person other than M. Remy found to have accessed this file will be subject to the full force of the Protection of Privacy Laws Act of 1926.

Â 

Please answer the following security questions before the attached email can be opened:

Name?

Date of Birth?

Address?

First names of only uncle and aunt?

Â 

If the questions are answered correctly, you will receive the accompanying mail. Failure to answer the questions correctly or within two minutes will lead to the neutralisation of this message.

Â 

Linden, thought Max. He was always joking and mostly this annoyed her but after what had happened downstairs, she needed all the cheering up she could get. Max answered the questions and hit send. She waited eagerly for his reply, but instead, something strange happened to her computer. A series of numbers and letters hurtled up the screen like bugs caught in a wind tunnel. Finally the bugs stopped and the screen went blank.

Max stared at her computer not knowing what to do next when the following words appeared:

Â 

Security clearance granted. Email to follow.

Â 

Max knew Linden was clever with computers, but sheâ€™d never seen him do anything like this before. After two minutes exactly, the email alert appeared before her. Max moved the mouse across the pad and opened it.

From:

R. L. Steinberger

To:

maxremy@emailaus.com.au

Subject:

Meeting

Dear Max,

This is a top secret email that will be deleted completely from your system within one minute of its arrival. We request your company at Spyforce Headquarters on 20 April of this year. Further details will be forwarded to you once we have received your acceptance.

Regards

R.L. Steinberger

Administration Manager,

Spyforce

Clever, thought Max. She was impressed but was going to let Linden know she was onto his games. She hit reply to his new phoney email address.

From:

Max Remy

To:

rlsteinberger@spyforce.com

Subject:

Too funny

Â 

Very funny! You must be exhausted now from being so witty.

Â 

Fond regards

Not Easily Amused

Â 

She waited to hear back from Linden.

From:

R. L. Steinberger

To:

maxremy@emailaus.com.au

Subject:

Meeting

Dear Max,

Confused about your previous email. Are you able to attend the meeting?

Regards

R.L. Steinberger

Administration Manager,

Spyforce

Max frowned as she read the email again. Maybe it wasnâ€™t from Linden. He knew not to stretch a joke too far with her. But could it really be from Spyforce?

She wrote an email to him using his usual address just to be sure.

From:

Max Remy

To:

lindenfranklin@loonmail.com.au

Subject:

Mr Funnyman

You might be clever. Security clearance? Meetings at Spyforce? I thought the Administration Manager of a major intelligence agency would be based somewhere a little classier than Mindawarra?

Â 

Max waited a few moments until a reply came back.

From:

Linden Franklin

To:

maxremy@emailaus.com.au

Subject:

What Funnyman?

Max,

I think maybe youâ€™ve been sitting too close to your computer and itâ€™s starting to fry your brain. Whatâ€™s this about a Spyforce meeting?

Max sat back and tried to think of a witty reply, but before she had a chance, another email came through.

From:

Linden Franklin

To:

maxremy@emailaus.com.au

Subject:

Spyforce email

I got one too! It just arrived. A secure file. Is it really about a Spyforce meeting? What do you think they want to talk to us about? Do you think they want to send us on a mission? What are we going to tell them? How are we going to get there? This is going to be the wildest thing ever!

Â 

Max read Lindenâ€™s reply three times and each time her eyes got wider and wider as the truth sank in. The first email was from Spyforce! What did they want? Max and Linden hadnâ€™t heard from them since the end of last summer when they received a telegram thanking them for their help in uncovering Blueâ€™s crooked scheme. Maybe they wanted help with a secret mission. Maybe the world was in great danger and only they, Linden and Max, could save it. Whatever it was, Max was ready. And no matter what it took, sheâ€™d get to that meeting on 20 April.

Her heart beat against her chest like it suddenly didnâ€™t have enough room to keep beating. She thought about what to say in her reply. About how she was poised on the brink of possibly the most important meeting sheâ€™d ever have in her life. About how sheâ€™d probably offended a member of Spyforce. About how if only she could keep her big mouth shut â€¦

â€˜Ha ha ha.â€™

The laughter from downstairs cackled around her room like a squawking crow had been let loose near Maxâ€™s head. It was full of coy, girlish giggling and macho try-hard bellowing that sunk into Maxâ€™s shoulders like quick-drying glue, cementing them into what felt like hardened armour. She looked towards the door, wishing the laugh back downstairs and out of her life. She didnâ€™t care how much her mother was trying to impress fashion boy, she wasnâ€™t fooled one bit by his smarmy ways. He was as interesting as dry grass on a hot day and if her mother couldnâ€™t see it then she was in desperate need of a major spring clean of her senses.

Max put on her headphones and wrote back to Spyforce.

From:

Max Remy

To:

rlsteinberger@spyforce.com

Subject:

Meeting

Dear Mr Steinberger,

Sorry about my previous email. I thought you were someone else. Linden and I would be happy to accept your invitation to Spyforce. We await further instructions and details.

Â 

From Max Remy

Â 

She then emailed Linden and said sheâ€™d accepted the invitation for both of them and would get in touch when she heard more.

And this time she knew how to sign off.

Â 

From Max Remy, Superspy.

Sometimes life has an annoying way of trying to be as difficult as possible and Max was just about to be landed in the middle of one of those times. Hoping for a quiet, painless day at school with as little to do with the other students as possible, she arrived the next day as the fire siren was screeching around the schoolyard like a sick rooster gone mad.

â€˜Brrurrp! Brrurrp! Brrurrp!â€™

â€˜Great. A fire drill,â€™ she mumbled to herself as she walked through the school gate. She saw two teachers race out of the staffroom with bright yellow fire hats that kept falling down over their eyes. One teacher was looking through the fire manual trying to work out which exit she was supposed to direct the students through to escape the imaginary fire that was engulfing their school. If it was up to Max, sheâ€™d let the whole place go up in a huge technicolour bonfire that all the fire manuals in the world wouldnâ€™t be able to stop.

â€˜Just what we need,â€™ she said under her breath. â€˜To be herded around like cattle while the fire wardens, who just five minutes ago were ordinary teachers, direct us to who knows where as the sun beats down making sure we get a good dose of UV rays and my life flashes before my eyes in one giant wasted blur.â€™

â€˜Talking to yourself, Max? You know thatâ€™s one of the first signs of madness. Any day now youâ€™ll start seeing your very own imaginary friend.â€™

Toby Jennings. Of course. When days started badly, you could pretty much guarantee heâ€™d be there to make sure it got even worse. Max was never in the mood for Toby and today was no different.

â€˜Iâ€™m sorry,â€™ she said, determined not to let him get away with being a jerk. â€˜You must have mistaken me for someone who actually cares about what you have to say.â€™

â€˜Now, Max. Iâ€™m just worried about your welfare,â€™ said Toby in his best fake sympathetic voice. â€˜Thatâ€™s why Iâ€™ve organised this little outing, so you and I can share some quality time together.â€™

So Toby had set off the fire alarm. She should have guessed it was him. Being in school was bad enough, but at least in class she could be distracted from the world of losers she was surrounded by with her books and computers. Why couldnâ€™t Toby find someone else whose life he could make miserable?

â€˜My welfare would be a whole lot better if I didnâ€™t have to share this planet with you.â€™ Max flicked her head back and walked towards the fire warden who was directing students across the street. Why, she wondered, did her life at Hollingdale seem like some terrible and mysterious punishment for a crime she never committed?

Despite doing her best to get rid of him, Toby followed closely behind Max, eager to get in another jab of his brain-dead wit. But he didnâ€™t have to. As Max reached the fire safety area, she tripped up the curb and fell face forward onto the grass in front of the entire school. She covered her head as the contents of her bag flew into the air before raining down on top of her. Now this alone would have been embarrassing enough, but Max had fallen near a leaking hose which had turned the surrounding grass into a kind of lumpy, green and brown milkshake. Max lay in the oozing mess with her eyes closed, knowing no matter how she looked, it wasnâ€™t going to be pretty.

As the first peels of laughter drowned out the fire siren, she opened her eyes and things instantly got worse. Worse than she ever could have imagined.

Toby had found her Spyforce book and was getting ready to read it out loud.

â€˜Well, well, well. What have we got here?â€™ he announced to the audience of laughing faces that were gathering around him.

Max wiped mud from her face and said in as threatening a voice as she could, â€˜Give me that book now.â€™

â€˜Now Max,â€™ Toby said in a sarcastic voice that made her want to scream. â€˜You and I both know thatâ€™s not going to happen. Remember? Iâ€™m the bad guy and youâ€™re the one who I have to pick on. Thatâ€™s the beauty of our relationship â€” itâ€™s so simple.â€™

Max could feel the anger inside her heating up like a stick of dynamite about to explode. She imagined herself on the end of a giant plunger, loading Toby headfirst into a cannon that would send him all the way to the other side of Australia in one soaring blast.

â€˜Now where were we?â€™ he asked the kids standing near him who were happy to be entertained during something that was usually really boring. â€˜I know, I was just about to read something from Maxâ€™s secret spy book.â€™

Max cringed as she lay in the mud. A wall of legs and feet gathered closely around so that none of the teachers could see her, penning her in and making it impossible for her to get up.

Toby began to read like he was a narrator at a very bad and overacted school play.

Â 

The rope dug into Maxâ€™s and Lindenâ€™s wrists as they were tied to the suspension bridge high above the vat of slimy, green jelly. The evil Mr Blueâ€™s laughter rang out around the chrome-grey room as he told them of their fate. A slow, sticky doom awaited them and if they didnâ€™t give him the secret code to the Time and Space Machine, they would find themselves on the nightâ€™s menu as dessert. Would this be the end of Max Remy, Superspy? Would Spyforce, the secret spy organisation she worked for, be able to save her? Would she be able to thwart the sinister plans of the evil Mr Blue? Would the world be forever doomed to live without her?

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â€˜Oh no!â€™ Toby stopped reading from the book and looked around him, getting more melodramatic by the second. â€˜This is terrible! What are we going to do? The world wonâ€™t cope without Max Remy â€¦â€™ and the next part he said like he was enjoying every syllable, â€˜Su-per-spy.â€™

Never before in her life had Max so badly wanted to disappear. She wished now she had her uncleâ€™s Matter Transporter control panel, so she could zap herself as far away as possible from the crush of faces leaning in and laughing. Some of the kids were laughing so hard they were crying. Others had to hold their stomachs from laughing so much.

â€˜I hope lying in the mud wasnâ€™t your secret weapon for outwitting the evil Mr Blue?â€™ asked Toby like nothing was ever going to shut him up. â€˜Because I can give you a hint, itâ€™s not going to work.â€™

He relished the laughter that swirled around them like a whirlpool and made him feel as though he was leader of the world. He got ready to read another piece. Max watched him turn the pages and knew she had to get the book off him fast. She lunged forward from where she lay and grabbed the book at the top and bottom. Toby held onto the sides and pulled it back towards him. Max wasnâ€™t going to let go until she had her book back and was surprised at how strong her anger made her feel.

â€˜Give it back!â€™ Her teeth were clenched as she pulled the book towards her.

â€˜No! Not until Iâ€™ve read out a bit more of your amazing spy adventures,â€™ he wheezed as he tugged the book against his chest.

That was when Max found herself doing something sheâ€™d never done before. She hadnâ€™t even had time to think about it before she realised she was surrounded by excited faces screaming, â€˜Fight! Fight! Fight!â€™

Mr Fayoud pushed his way through the students and pulled Max off Toby.

â€˜And just what is it you think youâ€™re doing?â€™ he shouted. His face was twisted into a purplish mix of anger and shock.

Max looked at Mr Fayoudâ€™s oversized face leaning into her and knew she had no explanation. She rubbed her hands together which seconds before had been around Tobyâ€™s neck. This time she was in for it. She was never going to be able to explain what sheâ€™d done. She could hardly explain it to herself.

Toby ran his hands over the deep red marks on his neck.

â€˜I donâ€™t know what I did, sir,â€™ he said, putting on his best pathetic act. â€˜One minute I was standing here obeying the fire drill, the next she tried to strangle me.â€™

Maxâ€™s mouth fell open. She looked at Toby and then down at her book. The cover had been torn off in the fight and was lying in the mud.

â€˜You two can both go to Ms Peasleyâ€™s office. Iâ€™m sure sheâ€™ll have a few things to say to the pair of you about bullying and violence. As for the rest of you, the fire drill is over. Form two lines and follow your fire warden back to your classes.â€™

There was a general moan of disappointment as everyone realised this was probably as exciting as the day was going to get. Mr Fayoud walked behind Max and Toby as they made their way to Ms Peasleyâ€™s office. That was never a great experience, mostly due to the floral wall hangings she painted herself out of a cheap monthly magazine. The place was full of them and other puke-inducing stuff like embroidered signs that said, â€˜A school that learns together loves togetherâ€™, and cushions on an old lounge that were shaped as love hearts. The entire place should have been condemned as a health risk for having so much phoney love it could choke someone.

Either way, being marched to the principalâ€™s office was never a good thing no matter how much stuff it had in it. Max held her breath and prepared herself for the worst.

Alex Crane took a deep breath as she faced one of the most fearsome monsters of her life. It writhed before her like a hungry ogre, ready to feast on anything in its sight. Only this was no ordinary, foul-smelling ogre but the two-headed perfumed princess of the fabled land of Taraxakum, which, like Atlantis, was believed to be completely mythical. That is until Spyforce uncovered a time slip that had for centuries kept Taraxakum hidden from the world and which the fragrant princess was using to steal precious energy reserves to power her overly aromatic land.

Taraxakum was once a prosperous land but when the princess ascended to the throne after her father had been eaten by a freakishly big fly, she declared that all the landâ€™s energy be employed in the making of perfumes that would be sprayed across the land in a constant sprinkle of delicate rain. Even the simplest of Taraxakumanians could see that the princess was missing a couple of floors in the brain department, but as she was the ruler, her orders were to be obeyed. This soon resulted in the running down of the economy and an extraordinary oversupply of sweet-smelling stuff. She also decreed other ludicrous laws. Flowers were to be strewn at ten-minute intervals throughout the capital and she had three Taraxakumanians with her at all times to throw rose petals at her feet so she walked across an unending bed of colourful scents. Slogans were to be written across the sky reminding people to love each other. Schmaltzy, hideous, idiotic, mind-numbing, trashy

â€˜Max, are you listening to me?â€™

Max had been doing her best to avoid listening to Ms Peasley for the last twenty minutes by thinking about another Alex Crane adventure. Why couldnâ€™t she just disappear into Alexâ€™s world forever? She was sure she wouldnâ€™t be missed and life would be a lot more pleasant than it was right now.

And it was about to get much worse.

â€˜Yes Ms Peasley.â€™ She frowned, trying to look like sheâ€™d heard every word.

Being in Ms Peasleyâ€™s office was as painful as Max expected. Toby stood next to her in front of the flower-filled desk, rubbing his neck and acting in pain and as innocent as he could. There was a small trickle of blood from a scratch on his brow but apart from that Max was sure Toby had never felt better in his life. Especially now that she was in such trouble.

She couldnâ€™t tell what was more annoying, Tobyâ€™s lame attempt at acting or Ms Peasleyâ€™s speech about how â€˜the world is a place full of strife and turmoil and how it was up to each and every one of us to do our part to fill it with loveâ€™. She said lots of other pukey stuff too that sounded like it came straight out of one of those corny self-help books displayed at supermarket checkouts. Books like, How to Make the World a Better Place in 10 Easy Steps. Max tried not to listen to most of it for fear her brain would seize up in protest and never want to work again.

After the positive-guide-to-life sermon was over, Max was sent to sit in the corridor and did her best to block out Ms Peasleyâ€™s sugar-sweet voice that was still ringing in her ears like a lovesick mosquito. She was picking a piece of dried mud from her hair when through the congealed strands she saw her mother marching down the corridor towards her to pick her up. And to see Ms Peasley so they could have â€˜a word about Maxâ€™s behaviourâ€™.

The way her motherâ€™s footsteps echoed off the walls, it wouldnâ€™t have taken a genius to see she wasnâ€™t happy. From the other end of the corridor she looked quite small, but each footstep made sure that soon sheâ€™d be towering over Max like a crazed giant with a sore head.

Max looked above her at the Gold Clock of Peace (it was actually called that) hanging from the ceiling by gold tinsel and realised class was just about to finish. This was going to be embarrassing. Not only because the whole school was going to witness Maxâ€™s mother in one of her tirades but because that same mother was being followed by Aidan! Now everyone was going to know her mum was going out with someone who was young enough to be her son!

Why does everything in my life have to be so hard? thought Max, and almost in answer to her question, the school chime echoed around them like an invisible, cloud-like cotton ball bouncing against the walls.

â€˜Great,â€™ Max whispered into her muddy uniform.

As the corridor filled with the multitude of arms, legs and eyes that poured out of every class like a volcano, the once small image of her mother now loomed over her like a huge storm cloud about to burst.

Which it soon did.

â€˜Have you anything to say for yourself for having me dragged away from a very important lunch so that I can spend my time listening to how youâ€™ve been misbehaving?â€™

The excited titters of the other kids flew around Max like sparks from fireworks. This was going to be even better than they expected.

Maxâ€™s mother stared at her with eyes so wide they looked like two bugs under a magnifying glass. Aidan finally caught up to Maxâ€™s mother and stood like a stuffed dummy behind her. Max sunk as low as she could onto the bench wishing she could disappear into the polished wood as her motherâ€™s dressing-down was only just getting started.

â€˜And why every time I come to pick you up from school do you seem to be covered from head to toe with slime or mud or some other repulsive goo?â€™

What was Max supposed to say to that? Sheâ€™d had a few â€˜accidentsâ€™ with slimy substances in the past. Nothing out of the ordinary though, and besides, even if she tried to defend herself, her mother wouldnâ€™t listen. She wouldnâ€™t have wanted to know about how Max had fallen into the mud or how Toby had stolen her book and humiliated her by reading her secret story to the whole school. She could have been kidnapped by a pack of sumo wrestlers in front of a hundred witnesses and it still would have been Maxâ€™s fault. No excuse was ever good enough for having dragged her mother away from work.

Max looked at her motherâ€™s new exclusive salon haircut and expensive designer suit as she stood there waiting for an answer. What she wanted to say was, â€˜Stop yelling at me in front of everyone. Donâ€™t you know how embarrassing it is? And what is he doing here? Only family members are supposed to come and pick kids up from school. You spend more time with him than me and if it wasnâ€™t for Ms Peasley calling you to school you wouldnâ€™t have spent more than ten minutes with me all week.â€™

But what she ended up saying was, â€˜I donâ€™t know.â€™

From the look on her motherâ€™s face, Max knew this wasnâ€™t the right answer and that she was in even more trouble than she was before.

â€˜If you think for one minute that is any kind of reasonable explanation for your behaviour, young lady, then weâ€™ll see how the next week without television alters that opinion of yours. Now wait here while I see what Ms Peasley has to say about you.â€™

Max wanted to warn her to sneak away before old Peasers had a chance to sprout her hippie love babble all over her, but just then the door opened and Maxâ€™s motherâ€™s already over-big eyes nearly rocketed out of her head when she saw a sore-looking and very bandaged Toby come out with Ms Peasley. Toby was gently sent on his way with Peasers cooing all over him before Maxâ€™s mum and Aidan were invited inside.

Phew, thought Max, relieved to have a break from her motherâ€™s flip-out, but before the principalâ€™s door closed, her mother leant down and whispered, â€˜Make that two weeks without television!â€™

Toby was instantly surrounded by kids wanting to see his bandage and hear what Peasers had said. Others were role-playing the goggle-eyed frenzy of Maxâ€™s mum and only just managing to stand up at how funny they were. The sounds swirled around Max like sheâ€™d been dumped in a cement mixer on maximum speed.

After what felt like an hour, Maxâ€™s mother came out. She took a hanky from her purse, dabbed her cheeks and with barely a look towards Max said, â€˜Come with me.â€™

The words sounded innocent enough, but as Max peeled herself off the bench, she knew they meant big trouble.

The corridor that day seemed longer than it ever had been as Max followed her enraged mother and a quiet Aidan outside. She thought about her punishment and the fact that sheâ€™d only have to wear it for a few days as the Easter holidays were coming up. This meant she was only days away from escaping the smirking faces of the kids she was passing, escaping her mud-splattered life and most of all, escaping her mother.

Max had been invited back to Ben and Eleanorâ€™s farm and the holidays couldnâ€™t come soon enough.

As Max and her mother drove away from Hollingdale, Max thought about what had happened in the last few hours. Sheâ€™d been humiliated in front of the whole school, was covered in brown smelly muck and her Spyforce notebook was ruined as it lay at the bottom of her bag in two torn, mud-smudged pieces. Her life was so miserable at least things couldnâ€™t get any worse, Max thought. But when they got home, things got much worse.

Her mother was in one of her â€˜Iâ€™m-not-going-to-talk-to-you-until-you-learn-to-behaveâ€™ moods. Which would have suited Max fine if she had been able to stick to it. These moods only ever lasted a few minutes regardless of how determined her mother was to keep quiet. Her need to talk was like an out of control train and no matter how much anyone tried, she could never be stopped.

â€˜Max, you and I need to have a serious talk.â€™

Serious talk? Max knew trying to strangle Toby wasnâ€™t the smartest thing sheâ€™d ever done, but even prison would have been better than one of her motherâ€™s serious talks.

â€˜I am very concerned about your behaviour lately and just for your information, so is Ms Peasley.â€™

Her mother paused to give Max time to say something. Max pushed a clump of muddied hair behind her ear and had nothing to say that she thought would help, so her mother continued.

â€˜Weâ€™ve decided a few things need to change and that perhaps your complete lack of regard for other people, including that sweet boy you so viciously attacked, is perhaps connected to the lack of time you and I spend together.â€™

Sweet boy! Toby was a lot of things but anyone who thought he was a sweet boy was having serious problems with reality!

â€˜So we thought you and I could change that by making plans to be together.â€™

What! Max thought. Sheâ€™d just had one of the most traumatic days of her life and all that Peasley and her mother could come up with was a recipe for making it worse. She could just hear them now. Peasers blathering on about how all the worldâ€™s problems could be solved with a â€˜pinch of loveâ€™ and aâ€˜dash of kindnessâ€™ â€” Nos 43 and 45 on Peasersâ€™ Guide to a Better World â€” and her mum going on about how mothers and daughters really are best friends they just sometimes forget that â€” she would have dug that up from some womenâ€™s magazine. And both of them finally agreeing to a whole lot of sickly, honey-coated stuff that would have been better off on the closest compost heap.

Max sighed as she waited to hear how this mother and daughter bonding time was going to be played out.

â€˜So, instead of spending Easter on the farm, you and I are going to take a holiday together,â€™ Maxâ€™s mother said proudly, like it was the best idea she had ever had.

â€˜Sorry?â€™ Max asked, feeling like someone had sucked all the air out of her so she could only just whisper the question.

â€˜You and I are going to Queensland!â€™ she announced like she was telling Max she had just won the lottery. â€˜Weâ€™ll book a hotel, go to the beach, eat at fancy restaurants. Spend some real time getting to know each other again. Wonâ€™t it be great?â€™

Peasersâ€™ talk had done more damage than Max had expected. Her heart sank as she saw her time with Linden, Ben and Eleanor fading and her hopes of being in London for her Spyforce meeting disappearing in a cloud of New Age drivel.

Max would have rathered a ban on television, a stern talking-to, a thousand lines saying why she would never try to strangle Toby again â€” no matter how much he deserved it â€” but not a holiday with her mother!

â€˜That sounds great,â€™ she mumbled unenthusiastically.

â€˜I thought youâ€™d like the idea.â€™ Her mother beamed unnaturally, like some alien had taken over her face and was pushing up the edges into a smile.

Then there was this pause where neither of them knew what to say until Max said, â€˜I think I might go to bed.â€™

â€˜Okay, sweetie.â€™ Her mother sounded relieved that the awkward silence was broken.

Max made her way to her room leaving a scattered trail of grass and dried mud behind her. Her shoulders drooped like two heavy weights had been tied to them. She turned on the computer and had two messages. One from Linden telling her how excited he was about her visit and one from Spyforce confirming their meeting on 20 April. Steinberger said he would send more details in time and even added what an honour it would be to meet them. An honour!

This only made Max feel worse. She tried to write a reply to Linden, but didnâ€™t know what to say. How was she going to tell him she couldnâ€™t go to London with him? She had to think of a way out of this holiday with her mother. If she turned down this opportunity to visit Spyforce they may never want to meet her again. All her hopes of being a Superspy would be smashed forever. She turned off her computer, picked up her pyjamas and made her way to the bathroom knowing only two things: first, she needed to wash away the mud that had glued itself to her and, second, by tomorrow morning she needed a plan to save her from a trip that would be a holiday from hell.

Alex Crane stood against the long, metal beam bound by titanium rope as the ragged jaws of chained crocodiles leapt towards her, missing her by centimetres.

But it wasnâ€™t the crocodiles that worried her most.

It was the spit-firing, giant Echidna that posed her greatest threat. The pink-haired, evil overlord, Sugarlips, had lured Alex to her dungeon hideout during a mission to save the world from another of her harebrained plans. This time Sugarlips had, Pied Piper-like, enticed the children of some of the worldâ€™s richest people into her lair by means of a giant mountain of fairy floss that floated sweetly above the bedrooms of the children as they slept. Their dreams became filled with images of sweet mounds of sugared heaven which drew them, sleepwalking, towards the overlordâ€™s hideout. What the children didnâ€™t know was that once they were in her sugared palace, she would place them at the mercy of the spiny-backed Echidna, until their parents paid the hefty ransom she demanded of them.

Or else â€¦

â€˜Ms Crane, time is almost up. If those parents donâ€™t deliver that ransom soon, Iâ€™m afraid some pretty nasty things will happen,â€™ Sugarlips said with a voice like melting ice cream on a hot day. â€˜And this lovely bell here will tell us when that time comes.â€™

Alex flinched at the sounds of Sugarlipsâ€™ sickly words as she pointed to a large brass bell.

â€˜Itâ€™s no use struggling either,â€™ she advised. â€˜I assure you the titanium rope that binds you is as strong as any substance the world knows and youâ€™re wasting your time if you think you can get free. Besides,â€™ and at this her voice became syrupy and thick, â€˜if you could free yourself, you would be making my precious baby very happy.â€™

At this, the Echidna sent a soaring spitball through the air. When it landed against the opposite wall of the dungeon, it spawned a fiery explosion and once the smoke cleared, a gaping, terrible hole could be seen. If the spitfire had hit a human there was little guessing how much of them would be left.

Alex was trapped. Caught in a world where she didnâ€™t belong with one of the most sweetly vile people she had ever met, one of the most evil of pets and a bell set to ring out the terrible fate of innocent children. Her choice was to stay and be mauled by hungry crocs or resist and become the main course for a freakish, oversized pincushion.

Would she manage to escape and save herself from certain doom? Would she be able to free the children who had been tricked into entering this grotesque world? How was she going to stop the bell from tolling certain doom?

Brinnnggggggggggg.

â€˜Aahhhh!â€™

Max shot up in bed like the mattress had been spring-loaded. One minute she was dreaming about a terrible overlord and her pet, the next she was â€¦ she was â€¦ it took her a few seconds to realise where she was. Then everything became clear. The phone was ringing downstairs. She was in her bedroom. It was the morning of another school day. Then she remembered the worst bit. She was still the girl who was doomed to spend her holidays with her mother.

Max sat there while the phone rang and watched her life fall into a tragic heap. There was nothing good about it. Nothing to look forward to. Everything was against her.

But then something happened.

â€˜Max?â€™

It was her mother knocking at the door.

â€˜Yeah?â€™ answered Max, turning and falling into her pillow face first, hoping this would make the world go away.

It didnâ€™t, so her mother kept talking.

â€˜Max?â€™ She was now at close range sitting on her bed. â€˜Iâ€™ve had a call from work.â€™

She paused like she was getting ready to say something difficult. â€˜Thereâ€™s a new show we are launching much earlier than expected and they want me to do it.â€™

Max closed her eyes even tighter waiting for what calamity it would mean for her. The world had better be careful, she thought. Thereâ€™s only so much bad news an eleven year old can handle before terrible things happen.

â€˜Now I know this is going to be disappointing for you, sweetie, but Iâ€™m afraid we are going to have to postpone our trip to Queensland.â€™

Max opened her eyes. Did she hear right? Not going to Queensland? She was so happy she wanted to jump out of bed and swing from the light fitting.

Her mother watched as Max continued to lay face down in her pillow.

â€˜Iâ€™m so sorry, darling. I know it was going to be so wonderful with just the two of us, but I will book another trip as soon as I can. I promise. For now though, it will mean spending your holidays at the farm.â€™

Max thought for a minute. If she was clever, she could really play this to her advantage. She sat up next to her mother, ready to lay it on as thick as she could.

â€˜Thatâ€™s okay, Mum. You couldnâ€™t help it. Sometimes your job must come first. Thereâ€™ll be lots of other times you and I can spend together later.â€™

Maxâ€™s mother was impressed.

â€˜You really are the sweetest kid a parent could ever hope for. Now, how about I make you some breakfast and we get you off to school.â€™

She kissed Max on the forehead and sprang out of the room.

It worked! Yesterday, Max was the pebble in the shoe of her motherâ€™s life, condemned to weeks of punishment, today she was the sweetest kid a parent could ever hope for. She leapt out of bed and got ready for school like it was the best day of her life.

The Easter holidays were only four days away. Max woke every morning and struck the days off her calendar like they were layers of wrapping paper hiding a present. Nothing could upset her. Even Tobyâ€™s teasing about her motherâ€™s performance at school didnâ€™t bother her. All she could think of was seeing Linden again and going to London.

Finally the day arrived. The last day of school before the break. Max was waiting at the school gate for her mother to pick her up. Toby tried one parting shot before he left.

â€˜Waiting for your mother, Max? After trying to strangle innocent children, Iâ€™m surprised she hasnâ€™t packed you off to reform school with all the other social misfits.â€™

Max wasnâ€™t biting and besides, she could see her motherâ€™s car driving towards her and with only seconds of Toby left in her life, she didnâ€™t even bother coming up with anything nasty to say to him.

â€˜Bye, Toby. Have a great holiday,â€™ she said brightly as she opened the car door.

Now this did two things for Max: first, it totally freaked Toby out and, second, it looked good in front of her mother that she was being nice to the boy she was trying to strangle only days before.

Max got in the car and kissed her mother hello. As they drove off, she watched Toby, his mouth gaping wide open in shock, get smaller and smaller in the rear-vision mirror. She thought, today is a good day.

As they drove through the rickety front gate that was only just managing to stand up (Ben and Eleanor were brilliant scientists, but they knew nothing about being handy around a farm), Max could see them all there: Ben, Eleanor, Francis and Linden. Her heart slammed in one enormous leap against her chest. Sheâ€™d missed them so much since the Christmas holidays, but it wasnâ€™t until she saw them again that she knew how much. The last few days blew away in a trail of dust behind her and Aidan, Peasers, Hollingdale and Toby went with it.

When they pulled up, the following few minutes were pretty awkward and went something like this.

After the usual routine of Eleanor asking Maxâ€™s mother to stay, her motherâ€™s eyes darted all over the place while she offered a few lame excuses of why she couldnâ€™t. Ben stood by not saying much as a few more awkward pauses made their way into the conversation before Max interrupted them all by saying goodbye to her mother and everyone waved her off. After that the car window was quickly wound up (so none of the country could creep in and dirty the polished leather seats) and Maxâ€™s mother breathed a sigh of relief as she headed back to the city.

They all watched the car disappear down the dirt drive and Max wondered why her mother always had to make a quick exit when it came to her own family. She didnâ€™t even say hello to Linden or Francis.

â€˜Let me look at you,â€™ said Eleanor, turning towards Max with a smile plastered all over her face.

She leant down and put her hands around Maxâ€™s cheeks, the folds of her dress sweeping around them like sails and they were both on the high seas. â€˜Youâ€™re even more beautiful than I remember from the last time.â€™

No one had ever said that to Max before and sheâ€™d never thought of herself as beautiful. Ben saw that Eleanorâ€™s words made her feel uncomfortable and stepped in to save her.

â€˜Now Eleanor, Max doesnâ€™t need you embarrassing her in the first few minutes sheâ€™s here.â€™ He put his arm around her and swooped her into the air.

â€˜Yeah,â€™ said Linden. â€˜Thereâ€™s plenty of time for Max to embarrass herself later.â€™

Linden! It was so good to hear his jokes again. Only Max would never let him know it.

â€˜Good to see you havenâ€™t done anything about improving your sense of humour. Wouldnâ€™t want you to change just because Iâ€™m back.â€™

Linden smiled, glad to see Max could still be funny when she wanted to be.

There was one person left. Francis. When Max and Linden first met him in London a few months ago, he was scrawny and bent-looking, with hardly enough fat on his bones to count as anything. Now he looked fit and healthy, with his cheeks full of colour, his chest filled out and it seemed he stood a whole ruler length taller.

â€˜Hi, Francis.â€™ Max suddenly felt very shy.

â€˜Hi,â€™ he said quietly, looking down and not knowing what to do with any of his lanky body.

A silence sat between them like a giant clump of cow manure, until something happened to get rid of it. A great leaping sack of fur burst from the verandah, jumped down the steps and crash-landed on Max.

â€˜Aahhh!â€™ she yelled as her body flew through the air like a splattered pancake. This was followed by a lot of muffled cries as a mini dust storm rose around the confusion of fur and what were once Maxâ€™s upright limbs.

Ralph!

It took a few moments for everyone to realise the affectionate mutt had escaped from his lead and was so excited by Maxâ€™s return heâ€™d forgotten all the rules of how to say a proper hello.

â€˜Gerr â€™im orff meee!â€™ they thought they heard Max cry.

Ben and Linden charged towards the dusty muddle and pulled Ralph away, but not before heâ€™d done a good job of covering her clothes in a solid coat of dirt and fur and her face in enough dog slobber to fill a bucket.

â€˜I forgot about you,â€™ she growled, as she wiped her sleeve across her mouth.

Ralph whined, suspecting perhaps heâ€™d overdone his welcome.

â€˜Sorry about that, Max,â€™ said Eleanor. â€˜We tied him up but ever since he heard you were coming heâ€™s been falling over his own tail with excitement.â€™

It wasnâ€™t that Max didnâ€™t like animals, she just liked it better when they kept away from her. Ralph, unfortunately, never got the hint, no matter how hard she tried to let him know it.

â€˜Linden, would you mind taking him out the back?â€™ Eleanor asked. â€˜You can tie him to the peach tree. Make sure he has plenty of water. Weâ€™ll go inside and welcome Max in a more pleasant way.â€™

Linden led the down-hearted Ralph away as Max followed Eleanor, Francis and Ben inside. Before she closed the door, Max stopped and looked around the farm. When she first arrived here last Christmas, she was determined to hate it, but now she was back, it filled her with a warm, soft feeling in her stomach.

It was good to be back.

But as she turned to walk through the door, a squawking cackle of feathers exploded in front of her face like a feather pillow put through a shredder.

Max pulled her head back and only just avoided the soaring, screeching attack. The chicken! she thought angrily, realising sheâ€™d only just avoided having her eyes plucked out.

â€˜You think youâ€™re clever, donâ€™t you? Waiting until everyone has gone before you make your move,â€™ she said to the clucking lunatic who was acting all pure and sweet and pecking seed from the ground like it hadnâ€™t done anything.

â€˜Donâ€™t think Iâ€™m not onto you,â€™ Max warned.

The bird cackled quietly like it was smugly mumbling to itself.

â€˜Next time you pull a stunt like that thereâ€™s going to be fried chicken all round.â€™

The chicken pecked and clucked louder, which made Max even more angry.

â€˜And donâ€™t think I donâ€™t know what youâ€™re saying either,â€™ she hissed.

â€˜I didnâ€™t say anything.â€™

Max cringed as she turned around and saw Linden standing by the verandah.

â€˜I wasnâ€™t talking to you,â€™ she said frowning, annoyed that sheâ€™d been caught talking to a chicken.

â€˜Well who were you talking to?â€™ he asked, acting as innocent as the chicken.

â€˜No one.â€™ Max hoped heâ€™d accept that for an answer.

â€˜You were talking to Geraldine, werenâ€™t you?â€™

Max laughed. â€˜As if Iâ€™d be talking to a chicken.â€™ She tried to look convincing but even Geraldine stopped pecking and stared straight at her.

â€˜You were talking to someone,â€™ he said persistently.

Why didnâ€™t Linden ever know when it was time to let something go?

â€˜Are you two coming inside?â€™ asked Eleanor, popping her head out the front door.

Saved! Max thought. â€˜Yep. Just having a look at the farm.â€™

â€˜A pretty close look,â€™ said Linden, as he picked a chicken feather from her hair.

â€˜Letâ€™s go inside,â€™ Max said quickly, wanting to change the subject and suddenly remembering the other animal that had smudged itself all over her. â€˜I need to de-Ralph myself.â€™

Max headed straight for the bathroom and after a complete scrub-down she went to the kitchen to find a â€˜Welcome Back Max Feastâ€™. Eleanor, Ben, Francis and Linden, all wearing big hats, stood around a table so packed with food there was hardly any room for plates. There were streamers and balloons, and candles on a chocolate-covered cream-and-strawberry-filled cake, and above it a bright red banner strung across the length of the kitchen that read, â€˜We Missed You Maxâ€™.

It was another of those times in Maxâ€™s life when she was looking at one of the best things ever done for her and the only thing she could think to say was, â€˜Thanks.â€™

As if that was the signal to start, everyone sat down and dug in. Plates were passed over heads, gravy was poured over sausages, corned beef and vegetables, spoons clanged against bowls as mashed potato was scooped out and piled high next to beans, peas, beetroot, broccoli, pumpkin, yellow squash and honeyed carrots, making everything look like giant tubes of paint had been squirted everywhere.

Eating was so quiet in Maxâ€™s home. There was the correct amount of matching knives and forks, small portions of food carefully arranged on plates and her mother always had on what she called her â€˜dinnerâ€™ music. Something classical or something filled with tiny bells and the sound of dolphins or whales. Sheâ€™d read that it helped digestion, which Max could have told her wasnâ€™t true because it always made her want to throw up.

At the farm, dinner was filled with clanging and laughing and excited talk that flew around the table. Max was burning to know the most important thing.

â€˜Is the Time and Space Machine nearly finished?â€™

There was a brief silence as Francis and Ben looked at each other.

â€˜Weâ€™ve been busy lately and havenâ€™t been able to spend as much time on it as weâ€™d have liked,â€™ said Ben, shovelling another spoonful of peas and mash into his mouth.

Everyone kept eating but Max had to know more.

â€˜So itâ€™s only a little more ahead than when I was here last?â€™

â€˜In some ways, yes,â€™ stuttered Ben, shooting a quick look across at Francis.

More clanging and silence and eating. This was getting frustrating.

â€˜In which ways?â€™ Max was feeling a little nervous about how quiet everyone was being.

â€˜Well, you see Max â€¦â€™

Max was instantly wary. When sentences started with â€˜well, you see Max â€¦â€™ people were usually trying to avoid telling her something she wasnâ€™t going to like.

â€˜â€¦ thereâ€™s been a slight hitch,â€™ Ben continued.

â€˜What kind of hitch?â€™ she asked slowly.

â€˜When Francis got back to Australia it wasnâ€™t long before people found out he was here and were keen to get him working again,â€™ explained Ben. â€˜Weâ€™d started work on the machine but had to stop because Francis kept getting called away for other projects.â€™

â€˜So how far did you get?â€™ asked Max, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

â€˜Maybe itâ€™s best if we just show you.â€™ Ben wiped his mouth and pushed back his chair.

When they got to the shed and Max stood in front of the machine, a few things happened. First, she felt numb and tried to focus on what she was seeing, then she felt confused, which was followed by a swift feeling of anger and finally panic.

And all of this in about one minute flat.

â€˜What happened?â€™ she asked when her mouth finally worked after the shock.

â€˜In order to get the machine right, we decided that we had to start from scratch. Especially as we had the Time and Space Retractor Meter Francis brought back from London.â€™ Ben was speaking calmly, like it was no big deal and he wasnâ€™t ruining every chance Max had of getting to London for her Spyforce meeting. â€˜And this is how far we got.â€™

In front of Max and spread from one end of the shed to the other, was the Time and Space Machine but in so many pieces, she wondered that they would ever go together again. It was like a huge asteroid belt of boulders and space junk, with bits of the machine strewn everywhere.

Linden was just as shocked.

â€˜I knew theyâ€™d had a setback but I didnâ€™t know it was this far back.â€™

Ben looked at their disappointed faces and tried to cheer them up.

â€˜In a few months, thingsâ€™ll calm down and the world will know the Time and Space Machine. Just not yet.â€™

Max and Linden sagged like two paper dolls left in the rain. All the colour and shape washed away.

Ben tried again to lift their spirits. â€˜We have made one discovery that is very important. Francis is great at desserts and has made an enormous sticky date pudding he needs help demolishing. So who wants to help us out?â€™

Max and Linden heard none of Benâ€™s talking. All they could see were their hopes of going to London spelt out in the chaos of the Time and Space Machine ruins. Max had never felt so sad in her life and apart from a total reality flip or being transferred into someone elseâ€™s life, she didnâ€™t know how sheâ€™d ever be happy again.

Max and Linden sat at Eleanorâ€™s computer and wondered what to write. Theyâ€™d been staring at the screen for ten minutes and nothing had come to them.

â€˜Maybe start with a joke,â€™ Linden suggested. â€˜Make them feel relaxed.â€™

Max took her eyes away from the screen briefly just to show Linden how unwelcome his suggestion was. â€˜Theyâ€™re a major secret spy agency,â€™ she said. â€˜I donâ€™t think feeling relaxed is a priority.â€™

She turned back to the screen as she thought of the Time and Space Machine spread out across Benâ€™s laboratory floor like a scarecrow with all its stuffing pulled out. Her body slumped over the keyboard, feeling the same.

â€˜We just have to tell them the truth,â€™ she said sadly as she started to write.

From:

Max Remy and Linden Franklin

To:

rlsteinberger@spyforce.com

Subject:

Spyforce meeting

Dear Mr Steinberger,

Please accept our sincerest apologies for not being able to attend the meeting at Spyforce on 20 April. Due to unforeseen circumstances (like our uncle dismantling our mode of transport) we are unable to come to London at this time.

Regards,

Max and Linden

Â 

â€˜What do you think?â€™ she asked.

â€˜Iâ€™m not sure. You donâ€™t think it sounds a little too casual?â€™ he asked sarcastically.

â€˜I want to show them we arenâ€™t kids.â€™

â€˜But we are kids,â€™ said Linden, not under-standing why Max found it so hard to be herself sometimes.

â€˜You know what I mean,â€™ she snapped and pressed send. The message was gone.

They both sat staring at the empty screen.

â€˜What do you think they wanted to meet us for?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜I guess weâ€™ll never know.â€™ As Max said this, she felt even sadder than she did before.

Outside, Ralph whined like he was just as disappointed as they were.

â€˜Coming, fella,â€™ said Linden as he leaned towards the window and waved. â€˜Better go. Itâ€™s my turn to have Ralph and he doesnâ€™t like getting home after dark.â€™

Linden stood up from the desk.

â€˜Donâ€™t worry, Max. My mum used to say when one door closes another opens. Youâ€™ll see, something will happen next that will be great.â€™

He waited for Max to say something but she didnâ€™t.

â€˜See you tomorrow then,â€™ he said and left the room.

Lindenâ€™s words floated around Maxâ€™s head like flying ants she wished would go away. When doors closed in Maxâ€™s life, other ones locked ever tighter. When her dad went away, her mum became bossy and never seemed as relaxed as she used to be. When she left her last school and best friend, she ended up at Hollingdale where no one liked her. She wanted to believe Linden but she knew her life too well to know things worked any differently.

She shut down the computer and went to the kitchen to say goodnight but stopped when she was met with the three backsides of Ben, Eleanor and Francis, whose heads were poking out the kitchen window into the yard.

â€˜Whatâ€™s going on?â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s Larry,â€™ said Eleanor. â€˜Heâ€™s been building a haystack out here for an hour.â€™

Larry was a pig who predicted the weather. Or at least thatâ€™s what Max had been told. She wasnâ€™t convinced this wasnâ€™t just Ben, Eleanor and Linden nursing a mild dose of lunacy.

â€˜What does that mean?â€™ asked Max, curious despite her scepticism.

â€˜Means thereâ€™s going to be a wind storm,â€™ said Ben, without a skerrick of doubt in his voice. â€˜A big one judging by the size of that stack.â€™

Max stared at all three rear ends as they continued to poke their heads out the window.

â€˜Why a haystack?â€™ asked Max, not sure why she even asked.

â€˜He likes to see them tumble down when the wind comes up,â€™ said Ben, chuckling. â€˜Gets a real kick out of it.â€™

That was all Max needed to know about Larry and his haystack for now. She suddenly felt tired and didnâ€™t want to talk any more.

â€˜Night then.â€™ She turned to leave them to their staring.

â€˜Would you like me to come and tuck you in?â€™ asked Eleanor, bringing her head in from outside.

â€˜No, Iâ€™ll be right,â€™ said Max and dragged herself to bed.

When she woke up the next morning, Max didnâ€™t open her eyes straightaway. The sound of Ben and Eleanor singing a soppy love song filtered into her room like the smell of rotting fish in the sun. Max loved Ben and Eleanor, but if they could sing in key it wouldnâ€™t have been quite as terrible. To add to that, the morning was hot and steamy with a warm breeze blowing directly onto her face, which nearly made her pass out with the smell of the farm it carried with it.

â€˜Country life stinks sometimes,â€™ she mumbled, referring to the smell and her memory of the broken Time and Space Machine. But when she opened her eyes she was met with something even more terrible. Two bulging, bloodshot eyes she was sure belonged to a weird, psychopathic alien.

Her heart pounded as she faced the fierce creature and remembered something.

She remembered to scream.

â€˜Aahhh!â€™

The alien eyes became bigger and even more bloodshot before disappearing under the bed as Ben and Eleanor rushed into the room.

â€˜What is it?â€™ they asked, pushing their faces into hers.

â€˜It was â€¦ I saw â€¦ I think â€¦â€™ said Max, not knowing what it was.

â€˜Take your time, Max. Tell us what happened,â€™ said Eleanor gently, just as a whimper was heard from beneath the bed.

Maxâ€™s eyes narrowed. â€˜Ralph,â€™ she whispered, as she saw images of the ragged mutt being packed off to the other side of the world on a very, very, slow boat.

Ben plunged under the bed as Eleanor winced. â€˜Sorry, Max. We told him to stay outside. Normally heâ€™s very obedient but heâ€™s taken such a liking to you he doesnâ€™t seem to listen to a word we say.â€™

â€˜Come on, Ralph. Thatâ€™s your fun for the day over,â€™ Ben wheezed as he pulled the reluctant canine out. â€˜Itâ€™s the doghouse for you, sunshine.â€™

Ralph looked over his shoulder at a scowling Max as he crept outside after Ben.

â€˜Why doesnâ€™t he get that I donâ€™t like him?â€™

â€˜He canâ€™t help it. Itâ€™s that magnetic personality of yours.â€™ Linden was standing at the door munching on a capsicum.

Sometimes Linden did that. It was like he never walked into a room but would somehow just appear.

â€˜How about some breakfast and you can try out more of your eagerly awaited humour then?â€™ said Eleanor, looking at Max and smiling.

Linden opened his mouth to say something else but before he could, the phone rang. â€˜Maybe Iâ€™ll just get that.â€™

â€˜Youâ€™d be doing the world a great favour,â€™ said Max. â€˜Or at least this part of it.â€™

Eleanor sat down on the bed next to Max.

â€˜Iâ€™m sorry about Ralph. Heâ€™s usually so shy. Looks like youâ€™ve brought out the wild side in him.â€™

â€˜Great. I wonâ€™t be chalking that up as one of my talents.â€™

â€˜Max!â€™ Linden called from the hall. â€˜Phone for you.â€™

Max froze. Maybe it was Spyforce ringing with a plan to get them to London. Or maybe they were going to bring the meeting here. Or maybe it was â€¦

â€˜Itâ€™s your mum.â€™

My mum! she thought, as she got out of bed and walked to the phone. What does she want?

Linden put his hand over the receiver and almost in answer to her thought said, â€˜She wants to know how youâ€™re doing.â€™

â€˜How Iâ€™m doing?â€™ Max asked incredulously. Her mother never called to see how she was doing. â€˜She must have cooked up some other way to ruin my life.â€™

Linden handed her the receiver.

â€˜Hello,â€™ she said, warily.

Pause.

â€˜Yep, Iâ€™m fine,â€™ she said, not sounding fine at all.

Another pause. Longer this time.

â€˜Sounds great.â€™ But the way Max said it, whatever her mother said didnâ€™t seem great at all.

An even longer pause and then, â€˜Okay, bye.â€™

Max hung up and stared at the phone. â€˜Peasers! That speech of hers really worked its way into Mumâ€™s head and Iâ€™m the one whoâ€™s going to have to pay for it.â€™

â€˜What did she say?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜She wants to spend a lot more time with me when I get back. Wants to sit with me while I do my homework. Make quality time every afternoon to talk about our days and share our feelings.â€™

â€˜Are you sure it was your mother?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜Sounded like her. And she wants us to share time with Aidan.â€™

Linden had heard all about Aidan from Maxâ€™s email.

â€˜So the forecast is bad?â€™

â€˜Couldnâ€™t be worse.â€™ Max turned and made her way to the kitchen.

But after breakfast, something happened to change everything. Max and Linden were sitting at Eleanorâ€™s computer when an email from R.L. Steinberger arrived. It had one simple message:

Â 

Donâ€™t worry about transport problems. All will be taken care of. Be in the back paddock at eight oâ€™clock tonight.

Â 

And that was it.

â€˜What does it mean?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜Not sure, but I guess we better be in the paddock at eight oâ€™clock to find out,â€™ Max said slowly, letting the message sink in. â€˜And that weâ€™re going to be at that Spyforce meeting after all.â€™

Max and Linden stared at the screen before turning and smiling at each other.

â€˜Aaaahhhh!â€™ they both screamed excitedly.

Eleanor rushed in to see what was wrong.

â€˜What happened?â€™ she asked, worried it was another animal attack.

Max and Linden looked at each other. They couldnâ€™t let Eleanor know what they were planning. Sheâ€™d think it was too dangerous and try to stop them. Max had wanted to be a spy all her life and she couldnâ€™t risk anything spoiling it now.

â€˜Nothing,â€™ she said, trying to think of a cover. â€˜Linden just told another one of his jokes.â€™ She smiled, pleased she could have a dig at his humour.

â€˜Maybe you could hold over on being funny for the rest of the day, Linden. I think my heart has had about as much as it can take of it for one morning.â€™ Eleanor gave a half smile, half frown as she left the room.

Max was chuffed. â€˜Sorry. Just had to get that in.â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s okay. Itâ€™s your way of coping with being in the presence of great comedy.â€™

â€˜So thatâ€™s what theyâ€™re calling it these days, are they?â€™ she asked.

â€˜You better believe it.â€™ Linden smiled. Max did have a sense of humour when she wanted to.

They both turned to the screen. After all Max had been through in the last few days it felt like the world was finally going her way. Sheâ€™d have given anything to go to London. Even spending more time with fashion-tragic Aidan didnâ€™t seem so bad now.

A smile trickled onto her lips as she knew her life was about to change forever.

Alex Crane looked out from her precarious position balanced on the tip of the mast of the sailing ship Inferno and knew that now help had arrived, her life, which was teetering on the edge of oblivion, would be saved.

â€˜Max! Thank heavens youâ€™re here,â€™ she called through the panicked squall of wind and rain that lashed against them.

Max was new to the business, but even with little solid experience, she was proving to be one of the best spies Alex Crane had ever come across.

Brilliant. Clever. A natural.

â€˜Weâ€™ve only got minutes before this whole ship is blown into the sky and us with it,â€™ Alex spoke into her lapel transceiver in her usual direct and unflappable manner.

Max knew she had to think, and fast. The wind buffeted against her like an overzealous bully as she dangled by a rope from the battered helicopter overhead. The aircraft swayed above them like a cancan dancer, its blades kicking out against the blue-black sky, lit by the angry flare of lightning.

She operated the helicopter by remote control, trying to manoeuvre herself closer to the mast and Alex before the lit fuse inside the vessel ignited the cargo of deadly explosives.

All she had to do was expertly guide the helicopter closer, making sure a sudden updraft didnâ€™t spin it out of control and send it spiralling into the sea. Just a little closer towards Alex and she would

â€˜Max?â€™

The voice behind her made her jump, sending her pen sliding across the page and her backside bouncing off the log she was perched on so she landed unglamorously on the ground. Legs splayed, head hurting and her fingers softly nestled in a warm cushion of chicken poo.

â€˜Sorry,â€™ Eleanor apologised. â€˜I didnâ€™t mean to scare you.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™s okay.â€™ Max glared at Geraldine who clucked loudly and pranced away like sheâ€™d just laid a golden egg.

â€˜I didnâ€™t hear you coming.â€™ Max pulled herself back onto the log and looked for something to wipe her hand on. She never understood why she ended up on the ground more times than the average eleven year old did.

â€˜I just wanted to tell you that weâ€™re so happy to have you back.â€™

Max looked through her book to find a blank page to clean her fingers with. Also to avoid further embarrassment because she could feel herself blushing at what Eleanor had said.

â€˜The place didnâ€™t feel the same when you left.â€™

Max looked up. Eleanor had this smile that was like a big, warm doona that made her want to crawl in and curl up inside.

â€˜Howâ€™s Sydney?â€™ Eleanor asked.

â€˜Good,â€™ said Max. Sheâ€™d been concentrating so much on Alex Crane that sheâ€™d totally forgotten about everything in Sydney. The farm had a way of doing that.

â€˜And your mum?â€™ Eleanor was twisting a ring on her finger. Maxâ€™s mum had one exactly the same that she kept locked away in a silver box. Max knew that because sheâ€™d take it out and wear it when her mother wasnâ€™t home. It had a red stone and was set in a gold bed of interlinked roses.

â€˜Sheâ€™s good.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™s good.â€™ But the way Eleanor looked away when she said this made Max think something wasnâ€™t quite right.

â€˜Where did you get the ring?â€™

Eleanor noticed sheâ€™d been playing with it and stopped.

â€˜Just before your gran died she gave identical ones to me and your mother, asking us always to look out for each other.â€™

Eleanor sat quietly staring at the ring.

â€˜Why donâ€™t you and Mum get along?â€™ Max asked.

â€˜Now thereâ€™s a question.â€™ Eleanor clasped her hands and looked at the horizon. â€˜Even when we were little girls we werenâ€™t very close. Itâ€™s just always been that way. I think thatâ€™s why Gran gave us the rings. She hoped it would bring us closer together.â€™

She drew the colourful layers of her skirt around her knees so she looked like the inside of a kaleidoscope. Her face creased into a sad frown.

â€˜She has a boyfriend now,â€™ Max informed her.

â€˜Really?â€™ Eleanor was curious to know more and Max was happy to tell her, but she wasnâ€™t going to sugarcoat anything. She was going to tell it exactly like it was.

â€˜But heâ€™s a real jerk who spends a lot of money dressing like he hasnâ€™t got any, stays in the bathroom so long he might as well move in there and wears so much aftershave there should be a pollution warning put out whenever he leaves the house.â€™

â€˜So youâ€™re not a fan?â€™ Eleanor asked in a serious tone, making Max think she may have overdone it a little.

â€˜Not much.â€™ She looked at her fingers and wiped off the rest of the chicken poo. Max was disappointed. She was hoping Eleanor would be on her side.

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

â€˜Even though he does sound like a real jerk.â€™ Eleanor smirked and tried to stop herself from laughing.

Max looked up from her fingers and smiled too. Then Eleanor started to laugh. So did Max. They laughed even harder until they were holding their stomachs and giggling so loudly that crows in the trees nearby swooped away in fright. They rocked back and forth with laughter until they toppled backwards and fell off the log straight into another fresh batch of chicken poo.

This time Max didnâ€™t care and didnâ€™t see Geraldine as she scratched in the dirt like she was doing a victory dance. They just kept laughing and lying on the ground.

â€˜Were you thinking about something funny I said earlier?â€™ An upside-down Linden was staring at them from overhead.

â€˜Yep, thatâ€™s exactly what happened,â€™ Eleanor chuckled, catching her breath and sitting up before helping Max to her feet. â€˜And now that weâ€™ve got that out of our systems, I better go and give Ben a hand with dinner.â€™

She laughed to herself as she walked away, the layers of her skirt creating a trail of dust behind her with each cheeky giggle.

â€˜What was that all about?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜I told Eleanor a joke and she thought it was the funniest one sheâ€™d ever heard.â€™

â€˜She doesnâ€™t get out much,â€™ explained Linden.

Max smiled. Linden was good.

â€˜Letâ€™s go and eat. Weâ€™ve got an appointment to keep.â€™

After dinner, Max and Linden excused themselves and walked towards the paddock. It had been arranged that theyâ€™d stay at Lindenâ€™s house for the night and would make their way back the next day, which gave them lots of time for their meeting. Except that when Ben and Eleanor said goodbye, there was something about the way they said it that felt a little more important than usual. Like they knew something. Max thought she was probably being paranoid and they headed off into the dusk.

â€˜Have you done your hair?â€™ Wild strands of Lindenâ€™s hair were ballooning into the air like towers on miniature jumping castles. â€˜We are about to go to a very important meeting after all.â€™

â€˜I even put on some of Dadâ€™s hair grease.â€™ But the look on Maxâ€™s face told him it didnâ€™t do much good. â€˜Mum used to say Iâ€™ve got hair with a lot of personality, what can I do? And besides, you canâ€™t keep a good strand down.â€™

He giggled at his own joke. Max tried to ignore the joke and his hair and walked on.

â€˜Where should we wait?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜Not sure. I guess we should just go somewhere in the middle,â€™ Max answered, starting to feel nervous about the whole thing and hoping she didnâ€™t mess up.

They walked a little further as Linden started to guess how they might get to London.

â€˜Maybe theyâ€™re going to send some little green men in a super-advanced spaceship to take us away?â€™ he suggested.

Maxâ€™s nerves got worse. She pictured herself walking into Spyforceâ€™s plush secret headquarters and at the earliest possible chance, falling down in front of everyone.

â€˜Or maybe theyâ€™re going to use a high-density matter scrambler to dismantle the atoms from our bodies, fling them through space at the speed of light and reassemble them in London.â€™

Linden was getting more excited at the possibility of what might happen. Max, on the other hand, wasnâ€™t. Her head jammed with images of disaster, like the one where she was being introduced to the head of Spyforce and accidentally knocked hot coffee from the table all over him. Or the one where she attempted to clip on her fingerprint-sensitive identity pass and accidentally flicked it across the room, breaking the invisible laser beam that set off a high security alert. She could see the chaos as she tried to apologise among the running feet and barked orders of Spyforceâ€™s top security agents.

Linden, oblivious of her panic, talked on.

â€˜Or maybe weâ€™ll be sucked into space at a million miles an hour in a giant straw-like transporter tunnel and spat out at Spyforce headquarters.â€™

Max had had enough of Lindenâ€™s speculating.

â€˜Or maybe you should just keep quiet so they donâ€™t hear how much you talk and decide not to meet us at all.â€™

Linden stopped abruptly like an enormous cement wall had suddenly dropped in front of him. He thought it was fun trying to work out what might happen.

Max walked on until she found a place that looked like all the others and decided to stop.

â€˜I think here is a good spot,â€™ she announced, and sat down and checked through her pack to see if she had everything.

Linden followed her wondering what it was about Max that made her so hard to understand. One minute she was fine, the next she wasnâ€™t. He sat down beside her, deciding it was best not to think too much about it.

â€˜Whatâ€™s that?â€™

Max flinched as a muffled ringing sound was heard from somewhere close by.

â€˜I brought the CTR just in case we need it,â€™ Linden explained as he rummaged through his pocket.

â€˜Great,â€™ said Max, not sounding at all like she thought it was great.

â€˜Hello?â€™ Linden asked, followed by a quick and surprised, â€˜Ella!â€™ as if it could have been anybody else. â€˜How are you?â€™

The CTR was a Communication Tracking and Recording device that Ella had given Linden on their last mission in London. Max knew it could come in handy, but refused to like anything about Ella so she wasnâ€™t about to admit it. She sat slightly away from him as he blahed on and on with a lot of reallyâ€™s and no wayâ€™s and thatâ€™s greatâ€™s.

After a few minutes, Max couldnâ€™t stand it anymore. She snatched the device from Lindenâ€™s hand, spied a large rock nearby and threw the CTR so hard it fireworked into the sky in a million pieces. She watched as it all happened in slow motion. First the throw, then the flying curve through the air and finally the impact, sending sparks and CTR bits everywhere in an impressive, airlifted shower.

â€˜Thanks for calling. Iâ€™ll speak to you later.â€™

Max never snatched away the CTR and Linden finished his conversation oblivious of her imagined outburst.

â€˜That was Ella.â€™

Max didnâ€™t respond but looked towards the darkening horizon.

â€˜She said Blue has this new range of kidâ€™s foods that she and her mum are convinced canâ€™t be good.â€™

Max tried not to listen but couldnâ€™t help spark up at the mention of Blueâ€™s name. â€˜They reckon if Blue is behind it there has to be something bad about it. Trouble is, the stuff tastes so good that once youâ€™ve had some you canâ€™t get enough. You know, like those hamburger chains that sell you burgers that make you feel queasy afterwards but you keep going back and buying more.â€™

Max was dying to ask about Blueâ€™s foods but refused to act interested.

â€˜Maybe thatâ€™s why Spyforce want to see us,â€™ Linden persisted.

â€˜Maybe.â€™ Max shrugged, thinking he was probably right.

â€˜Oh, and she said to say hi.â€™

Max looked down at her watch and really pretended not to hear this one.

â€˜Itâ€™s almost eight oâ€™clock. I guess we just wait now.â€™

Linden sighed and put the CTR safely back in his pocket. He didnâ€™t understand why Max didnâ€™t like Ella, but knew sheâ€™d have to come round one day.

They sat in silence for ages. Nothing much happened apart from a few owl hootings and the odd rustling of grass nearby, which Max told herself was the innocent scrambling of lizards and not the sneaky slithering of deadly brown snakes.

There were certain things in the country Max still couldnâ€™t get used to.

â€˜What was that?â€™ She jumped up in a panic as something fluttered quickly past her face.

â€˜Moth most likely,â€™ said Linden calmly, watching her hands swish frantically around her like a human fan on high speed.

â€˜They can get as big as small birds out here. Canâ€™t hurt you, though. Any sign?â€™

Max stopped waving her hands, put them on her hips and looked around, trying to pretend she wasnâ€™t spooked.

â€˜Not yet.â€™ She sat down and started to feel calmer. Linden had a way of doing that. When she felt nervous he would say things that made her feel okay again. Max relaxed for the first time in ages. â€˜Little green men?â€™ she asked.

â€˜Okay, so itâ€™s more likely weâ€™ll be collected in the transporter tunnel,â€™ Linden said authoritatively.

They both smiled and sat there again, waiting for what would happen next.

â€˜We should say our pact,â€™ Linden suggested.

Max cringed. She was hoping to get through this part of their mission without having to go through any soppy stuff. â€˜I think itâ€™s better we stay quiet in case we miss anything.â€™

â€˜You know Iâ€™m not going until we do it. I think itâ€™s important.â€™

Why did Linden do this? thought Max. Mostly he was pretty easygoing but there were times he had this look on his face that told her he was going to get what he wanted.

â€˜Okay.â€™ She sighed. â€˜How does it go again?â€™

Linden held out his hands and closed his eyes.

â€˜Oh thatâ€™s right,â€™ Max wilted. â€˜The holding hands bit. My favourite part.â€™

â€˜If Max should come to harm or get lost or be in danger in any way, I, Linden M. Franklin, will do everything I can to help her and bring her to safety.â€™

Max squinted through half-closed eyes for something that would interrupt this overly sentimental moment. Nothing happened so she tried to remember the pact.

â€˜If Linden should get into trouble â€¦â€™

â€˜â€¦ come to harm,â€™ he corrected.

â€˜â€¦ come to harm,â€™ Max struggled to remember. â€˜Or get lost or be in danger in any way, I, Max Remy, will um, will um, help him out â€¦â€™

â€˜â€¦ do everything I can â€¦â€™

â€˜â€¦ do everything I can to help him and bring him to safety.â€™

â€˜Now that wasnâ€™t too hard, was it?â€™ Linden smiled and let go of Maxâ€™s hands.

Pleased now that it was over, Max looked at her watch again for what felt like the hundredth time.

â€˜Itâ€™s almost nine oâ€™clock,â€™ she said frowning. â€˜Maybe theyâ€™ve forgotten about us.â€™

â€˜I donâ€™t think thatâ€™s possible. Youâ€™re a pretty hard person to forget.â€™

â€˜Is that right?â€™ Max replied. She was about to let fly with something witty when they felt the ground beneath them start to vibrate.

â€˜Can you feel that?â€™ she asked.

â€˜Either Iâ€™ve developed a bad twitch or weâ€™re about to find out what the email from Spyforce meant.â€™ Linden put his hands on the ground and looked around.

The vibrating became more intense, like a gigantic steamroller was coming towards them.

â€˜What do you think it is?â€™ Max strained her eyes to see through the dark.

â€˜Not sure, but itâ€™s something big.â€™

â€˜What should we do?â€™

â€˜I donâ€™t think weâ€™ve got much choice but sit here and shake.â€™

Just as Linden finished saying this, a mighty thump shook the ground. They closed their eyes as a powerful gust of wind swept around them, encircling them in dust and almost lifting them into the air.

â€˜Aaahhh!â€™ Max and Linden held onto each.

After a few minutes, the vibrations decreased and the wind dropped down like someone had switched off a huge propeller.

And then, nothing.

Max and Linden looked around them. Their hair was plastered upwards and their teeth were gleaming white against their dirt-covered skin. Apart from that, everything seemed as it was before until they realised one horrible thing.

They had their arms around each other.

â€˜Errrrrrrr!â€™ they screamed and pulled away, quickly wiping their hands against their clothes to brush away the hug as much as the dirt that had caked itself to them.

â€˜What happened?â€™ Linden wiped his eyes so that he left two dirtless stripes like he was wearing a bank robberâ€™s mask.

â€˜I canâ€™t see anything.â€™ Then Max remembered. â€˜Maybe it was that windstorm Larry predicted.â€™

â€˜Heâ€™s got a good nose for weather that pig.â€™ Linden smiled proudly.

Max was getting annoyed. â€˜Where are they? They said theyâ€™d be here,â€™ she said huffily. â€˜Weâ€™ve been waiting over an hour and â€”â€™

Before she could say any more, a mechanical hum began to whir in front of them from the inky night blackness. Max and Linden squinted hard to see what it was and couldnâ€™t keep their mouths from falling open when they saw what happened next. A large metal hatch was being slowly lowered to the ground. Nothing else. Just a large metal hatch.

â€˜Maybe itâ€™s the alien theory after all.â€™ Linden gasped, not sure he was ready to have his first extra-terrestrial encounter.

A silhouetted figure stepped carefully forward as if between two walls of light, leaving behind a solid glow that poured out of the hatch in a blinding flood.

Max and Linden sat wide-eyed and frozen like two rabbits caught in headlights as the mysterious figure loomed before them.

â€˜I guess itâ€™s too late to make a run for it?â€™ joked Linden, hoping to ease the tension.

It didnâ€™t. Before Max could answer, the figure removed a long, solid object from its pocket, stepped down the hatch and headed straight towards them. They nervously imagined what the object could be. A gun. A knife. A Spectral Atom Pulveriser (this was Lindenâ€™s thought, not Maxâ€™s).

Whatever it was, Max and Linden watched the figure getting closer and closer, knowing they could be facing the final, terrible moments of their lives.

âMax?â

âYeah.â

âIf you survive and I donât, could you make sure my goldfish Henry gets fed?â

âYouâll survive,â said Max, trying to work out what their next move should be.

âAnd could you let my dad know heâs the best?â

âLinden, nothing is going to happen to you,â she shot back, his questions pestering her like a small yapping dog.

The figure got closer. The long object in his hand dangled like a slow pendulum with each step, like it was counting down the last minutes of their lives.

âIâve also got a subscription to Spy Monthly that will need to be cancelled. And I have ââ

Max had had enough. âLinden. If you keep going, the only person youâll have to be worried about is me.â

He took her point and was quiet.

The silhouette stopped a few metres before them. The light from the hatch formed an angelic halo all around him. Max and Linden huddled together, desperately thinking what to do. Then slowly, menacingly, the figure raised the long, slender object so that it was pointing straight at them.

âWhat are we going to do?â Max whispered as her brief life flashed before her eyes like a video clip on fast forward.

Then something happened to answer her. The figure moved the object even closer towards them and muttered one, short word.

âMint?â

Both of them frowned.

âDid you say âmintâ?â asked Linden, double checking that heâd heard right.

âYep. Theyâre the chewy kind. My favourite,â said the figure.

There seemed nothing much else to do but accept.

âThanks,â said Linden, relieved to be alive as the figure dropped mints into their hands.

âNo matter how many times I do it I can never quite get used to the effect this whole travel thing has on me. Leaves me sort of light-headed. Takes me a good few minutes to get my mouth working again. I guess it has something to do with the speed. Not quite as fast as light yet but theyâre working on that. Even though some scientists think itâs impossible, what with the infinite amount of energy needed to push an object through space at that speed. But I guess people thought weâd never walk on the moon until Armstrong put on a spacesuit one day and up and did it.â

The strange man who was getting stranger by the second, paused long enough to realise he hadnât told them his name.

âOh! How rude of me. I havenât introduced myself. Iâm Steinberger. R.L. Steinberger. Administration Manager of Spyforce. And you are Max Remy and Linden Franklin. Pleased to meet you both.â

He held out his hand.

It was hard to believe the person who had sent Max such brief and formal emails could turn out to be this man with a mouth like a running tap.

Max and Linden held out their hands but before they could make contact, they heard a beeping sound.

âOh.â Steinberger looked down at a pager, disappointed to have to end the conversation so quickly. âLooks like the jetâs ready for take-off.â

This was too much.

âThe jet? What jet?â Max wondered if perhaps this Steinberger person had lost a few rungs on the ladder when it came to the brain department.

âOh, I havenât mentioned that yet?â He laughed. âSilly me. The superfast, deluxe TXR-5 Invisible Jet thatâs behind us.â

He flung his arms out like he was a game show host introducing the grand prize.

âAn invisible jet?â asked Linden, looking at nothing but a well-lit hatch.

âYep. Only one of its kind. Except for the TXJ-7, but we donât like to mention that one because it tends to get Frond upset over the issue of fuel consumption. A little guzzler it was, but we soon fixed that so that now this one runs on a purely plant-based formula that creates no pollution whatsoever. In fact ââ

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

Steinberger was again interrupted by the pager.

âItâs Sleek. He tends to get upset if we donât keep to schedule and after that unfortunate incident with the weather balloon on the way here, weâre already a bit behind. Shall we?â He took a notepad out of his pocket and moved towards the hatch.

Max and Linden stood up and cautiously followed him, wondering if taking this strange manâs lead was a very wise thing to do, while a million questions crash-landed in their heads. Who was Frond? What was a âSleekâ? How is it possible to have an invisible jet? And why did this guy talk so much?

As they approached the hatch, Steinberger stood aside and invited them in.

âWelcome to your superfast ride to London in the worldâs most luxurious, high-tech mode of transport to ever ââ

âSteinberger! Weâve got a schedule to try and keep,â said an agitated voice from nowhere.

âRight you are, Sleek,â he replied, and ushered them quickly in.

The entrance to the hatch was blocked by two glowing balloon-like walls. Max and Linden looked at each other and shrugged before pushing their way in. Once inside, they found themselves in a small, white, rubber room. They could hear ticking.

âWhatâs going on?â But just as Linden asked this, an alarm bell sounded and a blast of vacuum like air lifted them off their feet. It sucked at their hair and clothes, whisking them round in circles and bouncing them off the soft walls.

âAaahhh!â they screamed.

May felt dizzy and hoped she wasnât getting her brain sucked out.

They were bounced and twirled and jostled in a fierce vacuum frenzy. Then suddenly the suction stopped and they were spat out of the balloon chamber and left toppling about, trying to find their balance.

Max was starting to get annoyed at how they were being treated but before she let Steinberger have it, she took a good look around at where theyâd landed.

They really were inside a jet! And it was enormous. There were fluffy, lined seats and carpets, digital screens that folded out from the armrests, giant beanbags, a glass cabinet filled with every drink imaginable, a spa and even a small pool.

Steinberger looked very apologetic.

âIâm sorry about that. I should have warned you about our Automatic People Sanitiser. When a passenger steps into the jet, the sanitiser detects if there is any material on them that may interfere with the smooth running of the machine â dirt and dust, for example â and it turns itself on if it thinks a good clean is needed. Very efficient for getting rid of any pesky bugs or cleaning up after a particularly messy mission, and I can tell you there have been plenty of ââ

âThis is your captain speaking,â interrupted a stern message on the intercom. âWould all cabin crew and passengers get ready for take-off. Make sure your tray tables are stowed correctly and your seatbelts are firmly fastened. Take-off will be in approximately thirty seconds.â

Max and Linden were shown to their fluffy seats by a tall, unsmiling, uniformed man who asked if they were comfortable and without waiting for a reply, went to the back of the jet and strapped himself into a seat.

âWeâre a little pushed for time,â Steinberger explained the apparent rudeness as he took a seat opposite them.

The jet silently rose a few metres into the air, rotated so that it faced the opposite direction and took off into the night at a powerful speed. Max and Linden were pressed into their seats by the force of the take-off and could only just manage to look out the windows as the jet flew high above the ground.

âWell, here we are,â Steinberger announced, smoothing down his notepad that had been mangled in the sanitiser. âIf there are any questions youâd like to ask about the plane or Spyforce, fire away. Iâm here to be your personal guide. In fact, you might even want to know a little about me. Iâd be flattered to help you out there, itâs a fascinating ââ

âWhat are these things for?â Linden interrupted, fearing another long-winded yabberfest and pointing to the digital screens that materialised in front of them.

âThose are some of technologyâs finest,â Steinberger declared proudly. âThey are Digital Think Amajigs with Triple Megapixel Microdrive and integrated audio with Hyper Blaster Sound compatibility. You can do all sorts of things with these, including ordering food, which you might like to do now. Just tell the computer what youâd like and Roger, our friendly cabin assistant, will bring it to you.â

Max and Linden typed in their requests on the touch screens. Chocolate ice cream with caramel sauce and hundreds and thousands for Linden and a banana smoothie with yoghurt and honey for Max.

âYour request will be here directly,â announced the computers.

âI knew there was something missing in my home.â Linden pictured himself with a brand new computer in his room. Then he remembered there was something else he wanted to know as well. âHow can you make a jet invisible?â

âAh, terrific question,â beamed Steinberger, leaning forward and almost falling off his seat. âA few years ago Irene was in the middle of one of her experiments, mixing all sorts of concoctions together, when she added a special liquid that was to be the finishing touch and all of a sudden what she was working on just disappeared. At first she thought it was her eyes playing tricks on her â sheâs not as young as she used to be, as sheâll probably tell you when you meet her â but when she realised she could see everything else perfectly, she knew she had hit upon something remarkable. After a few more adjustments in the lab, Spyforce perfected and patented it. All rights belong to us and, Iâm sure I donât have to tell you, the formula is top secret.â

Max and Linden were impressed.

âIs Irene one of your scientists?â asked Max.

âNo. She works in the kitchen. Does a mean sponge cake.â

Steinbergerâs eyes went droopy just thinking about it.

The jet sped silently and smoothly through the night sky like a stingray gliding through the ocean.

âWhat can you tell us about the meeting?â asked Max, eager to know more about what they could expect.

âAh, that is the one thing Iâve been asked to keep quiet about until your arrival in London. I can say itâs for something very important, but until we get to Spyforce, Iâm afraid I canât say anymore.â Steinberger turned his fingers in front of his mouth like he was locking his lips shut.

âWhat can you tell us about Spyforce?â Max probed further.

âThereâs lots to tell there.â Steinberger folded his hands in front of him and sat back in his pink fluffy chair. âIt was created in the early 1960s by Harrison Junior, the father of the current Chief of Spyforce who is also called Harrison. Harrison Junior and his father, Harrison Senior, were top chefs at one of the finest restaurants in London, which was called Harrisonâs, naturally enough. Anyway, one day, the two decided they needed a career change and putting their heads together, came up with an international agency for fighting crime everywhere, which they called Spyforce, or the Security Protection Unit For Ousting Rotten Crime Everywhere. That spells Spyforce when you work it out.â

Max and Linden ran it through their heads.

âNo it doesnât. It spells Spu-force,â Linden advised quietly.

Steinberger shifted uneasily in his chair.

âWell, the err, Marketing Department thought having an international spy agency called Spu-force might be bad for business. You know. Sounds like spew-force. People might joke and call it Vomit Force. So they decided just to fudge it a little.â

Just then, the steward arrived with their orders. Lindenâs tastebuds turned over themselves as he tucked into the best, creamiest ice cream heâd ever had in his life.

âHomemade. You canât take the chef out of the chief,â Steinberger mused dreamily.

âHow long does the jet take to get to London?â queried Max, slowly sipping her smoothie to savour each taste-tickling mouthful.

Steinberger looked at his watch.

âShould be there â¦ about â¦ now,â he declared.

In a flash, the steward reappeared, grabbed their plates and glasses mid slurp and disappeared towards the back of the jet.

âThis is your captain speaking,â said the voice on the intercom.

âHe loves saying that,â whispered Steinberger excitedly, putting his notepad in his pocket.

âWe will shortly be arriving in London. Remember what I said about the tray tables and seatbelts and get ready for a smooth landing.â

Max and Linden tightened their belts and looked out at the city of London below. The jetâs windows were jammed with the bumpy spread of old buildings, towers, palaces, churches and cathedrals. Roads wound through like ant trails swarming with cars, trucks, motorbikes, pedestrians and lurching black cabs, while the Thames River snaked its way under bridges that crisscrossed over it like antique matchsticks.

Max looked down at the city and took a deep gulp of air as she tried to take in what was about to happen. In just a little while, she and Linden would be face to face with the worldâs top spies.

It was the largest gathering of secret agents the world had never known. A top secret affair with security at its highest level. And with good reason. It wasnâ€™t every day the worldâ€™s top spies assembled together under the same roof. In fact, it was only once a year, during the annual Spy Awards Night, a prestigious event that recognised the talents, skills and contributions of spies from all over the world. Spyforce often topped the bill for the night, taking home many of the awards, including the coveted and highly respected Spy Agency of the Year award.

The rest of the world never knew about these events. If they ever did know, the existence of these intelligence networks would be in grave jeopardy, many would even cease to exist as soon as news got out.

The location of the ceremony was announced only the day before and even then, just the chiefs of the organisations were informed. As technology could sometimes be tampered with, they were told by specially trained minor birds, the perfect messengers, as they worked in pairs and always delivered. A secret rendezvous point would be arranged where the chiefs and minor birds would meet and the message would be tweeted out in a few short cheeps before the birds would fly innocently away. Very discreet, very professional and very top secret.

This year was a highly unusual type of award night. This year a new spy had been recruited by Spyforce who was causing a stir throughout the ranks of spies everywhere. She was changing the face of intelligence work with feats of daring and skill the spy world had never seen before.

This spyâ€™s name was Max Remy.

But many knew her as Max Remy, Superspy.

As clusters of intelligence agents hushed over dimly lit tables, spoke in secret whispers and quietly clapped each award winner, most were anxiously awaiting the announcement of who would be Spy of the Year.

As the head of the Academy of World Spies approached the podium, the room fell silent. In just a few moments, she would announce the Spy of the Year. An honour bestowed on the bravest, most intelligent spy who had, in all their work, made the world a safer, better place.

â€˜And the winner is,â€™ the head of the academy began as she pried open the specially sealed gold envelope, â€˜Max Remy!â€™

Maxâ€™s hands sprang to her mouth in shock. She was not only brave and intelligent, she was also a very humble person, not used to such attention. Alex Crane leant over from her seat and gave Max a hug.

â€˜You deserve this,â€™ she whispered proudly to her one-time apprentice.

Max stood up, her legs becoming jelly-like beneath her, and made her way to the podium. She accepted the statue of the Golden Spy Binoculars, held it against her chest and began her speech.

â€˜I would like to thank the academy for this very generous and unexpected award. Ever since I was a little girl, Iâ€™ve wanted to be a spy and do all I can to make this world safer for people everywhere. I dedicate this award to spies all over the world who risk their lives every day for the same cause. I would like to thank Spyforce for believing in me, and Alex Crane, for being my mentor, my guide and my inspiration.â€™

The room exploded with the emotional clapping of agents as they applauded in admiration the spy they could only ever hope to be. Max looked around the room at the awe-struck faces and gave a small bow. Soon there was a hushed call of â€˜Maxâ€™ from the audience. Then another. Then another. Until soon, the whole room echoed with the quiet chanting of â€˜Max, Max, Maxâ€™.

Max held her award high above her head.

The applause continued on â€¦

â€˜Max!â€™ cried Linden.

Max snapped out of her daydream.

â€˜Are you coming or not?â€™ Linden was standing at the exit of the jet wondering when Max was going to get off.

She looked around her. Theyâ€™d landed. She wasnâ€™t sure where, but she quickly undid her seatbelt to find out.

â€˜Sure,â€™ she said, rushing to the hatch and feeling like sheâ€™d slept in for an important exam.

â€˜Iâ€™m glad to see youâ€™ve finally decided to join us, Ms Remy,â€™ Linden remarked in a teacherly voice. â€˜This tardy attitude of yours is going to do you no favours, young lady. And another thingâ€”â€™

â€˜Linden,â€™ Max warned. â€˜Itâ€™s not too late to hand your body over for medical research, you know.â€™

Lindenâ€™s mouth collapsed open in an attempt at looking offended.

â€˜And what would you do for entertainment then?â€™

â€˜Iâ€™d watch grass grow or paint dry, something as funny as you.â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s time to go,â€™ interrupted Steinberger, poking his head into the jet.

Max and Linden stepped out onto a boardwalk-style metal deck. They were inside a cavernous, shiny aircraft hangar. Everything was quiet except for a low motorised hum and the echoing noises made by their footsteps. Dim lights hung from the towering roof above them like stars in a miniature universe, just barely revealing a pristine, orderly metal cavern filled with all kinds of contraptions and vehicles. There were all-terrain trucks, submarines, planes, helicopters, one-seater mini-choppers, hovercrafts, gliders and a stretch of other machines theyâ€™d never seen before.

A man dressed in overalls lay on his back on the floor below the metal deck.

â€˜Whatâ€™s he doing?â€™ asked Linden, wondering why the manâ€™s hands were clutching tools and working away in thin air.

â€˜Heâ€™s giving the jet a service now that weâ€™ve returned,â€™ Steinberger explained. â€˜Heâ€™s also the pilot. Let me introduce you.â€™

He moved closer to the edge of the deck.

â€˜Sleek, these are our esteemed passengers, Linden Franklin and Max Remy.â€™

The overalled man kept working on the invisible jet and gasped a mysterious reply that sounded something like, â€˜eeooorr ooo ahhh inmyanrâ€™.

â€˜Sleek gets very focused when heâ€™s busy,â€™ Steinberger informed them in a hushed voice. â€˜This is our Vehicular All-Response Tower, or VART for short, and Sleek is crucial to this part of Spyforce. Not only does he fly and know everything there is to know about all these aeronautical thingamajiggies, heâ€™s our extreme member of the team. No mountain is too high, no high-speed chase too fast and no vat of worms too icky for him. You name anything extreme that has happened in Spyforce and Sleek has been there.â€™

Just then, a black cat jumped from behind them down to the ground where Sleek lay working. In a single reflex action, Sleek moved his head sideways and noticed the cat staring straight at him.

â€˜Aaaahh!â€™ he yelled and performed a manoeuvre that astounded Max and Linden so much, their eyes only just managed to stay in their sockets. He leapt from the floor, completed a double backflip and landed on the deck, which was a whole three metres above him, in one swift move. He stood next to Max, open-mouthed and goggle-eyed like someone had stretched his head longways and forgotten to put it back to normal. The black cat caught her eye and then walked away with what Max thought were arrogant and calculated steps. A steely tremor ran through her as she was caught by the catâ€™s gaze.

Sleek, meanwhile, noticing the others were staring at him, closed his mouth, ungoggled his eyes and tried to pretend everything was fine.

â€˜I think thatâ€™s all for today,â€™ he said wiping his hands on an oilcloth he pulled from his pocket. â€˜Jetâ€™s in good condition. Enjoy your visit.â€™ And with that he walked off trying hard to look relaxed, but all he managed to do was look terribly awkward.

â€˜One of the bravest men I know.â€™ Steinberger looked after him admiringly. â€˜The cat belongs to Dretch, our maintenance operator. Her nameâ€™s Delilah and sheâ€™s taken quite a liking to Sleek, but heâ€™s not too good with black cats or other superstitious things. Apart from that, though, heâ€™s one of our best. Now,â€™ he clapped his hands together, â€˜letâ€™s go and meet everyone else.â€™

He walked off with clipped, excited steps, mumbling to himself and consulting his notepad.

Max felt uneasy.

â€˜Thereâ€™s something about that cat I donâ€™t like,â€™ she whispered to Linden.

Linden stopped walking. His eyebrows reached new heights of incredulity as they arched up his forehead.

â€˜Max, youâ€™re a person with a lot of talents but I think itâ€™s only fair to tell you an affinity with animals isnâ€™t one of them.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™m fine with animals,â€™ she protested.

â€˜Which ones?â€™

Max was stumped.

â€˜Thatâ€™s not the point. That cat looked at me and gave me a strange feeling.â€™

â€˜I wouldnâ€™t take it personally. Cats are really perceptive and she just needs more time to realise that deep down you really are an animal lover.â€™

Lindenâ€™s grin spread over his face before he hurried to catch up with Steinberger. Max turned around and saw Delilah sitting in a corner licking her fur and acting no more suspicious than any other housecat. Maybe Linden was right, she thought, but sheâ€™d keep her eye out if Delilah crossed her path again.

Max was doing her best to take everything in, including the fact that what she thought was a fictitious spy agency, was now all around her. She was at Spyforce, the international intelligence agency, bursting at its high-tech seams with spies, missions, intrigue and top secret secrets to save the world. Important stuff that no part of her regular life had. She heard nothing of what Steinberger was saying to Linden as the three of them walked along the gleaming deck. She looked up at the VARTâ€™s roof with its twinkling low-level lights and sighed, knowing her life would never be the same again. Would be filled from now on with â€”

Booof!

Silence. Except for the quiet motorised humming.

â€˜Max, are you alright?â€™

The room blurred in front of her eyes like a thick, swirling fog.

â€˜Can you hear us, Max? How many fingers am I holding up?â€™

Max could see little snippets of Linden and Steinberger through a churning, confused mist. Molecules of man and boy floated past her, urging her to understand what they meant.

Then â€¦

â€˜Urgh! What is that?â€™

She sat upright holding her nose.

â€˜A little something they came up with in the lab. Instantly revives you if youâ€™ve had a temporary collapse,â€™ explained Steinberger, removing a small brown bottle from beneath her nose.

â€˜Or in your case, if youâ€™ve run into an enormous and pretty unmissable giant metal cylinder.â€™ Linden smiled.

Max rubbed the spot on her forehead that was starting to blush into a deep, red welt. The type of welt that comes up just before a bruise and a big, ugly-looking lump.

â€˜Maybe they should bottle your jokes instead, because they sure smell enough to bring back the dead,â€™ Max shot back.

â€˜Sheâ€™s fine,â€™ diagnosed Linden. â€˜Only an in-form Max could have a comeback like that.â€™

â€˜Whatâ€™s in that stuff?â€™ she grizzled, wincing and breathing out hard to get the stinky potion out of her nostrils.

â€˜All natural ingredients.â€™ Steinberger smiled, relieved that his young guest seemed to be in one piece. â€˜Nature can be just as smelly as chemicals when she wants to be.â€™

Holding his notepad in front of him, Steinberger checked over his list.

â€˜And now we must go. Thereâ€™s so little to see and so much time to do it in.â€™

He looked up and frowned.

â€˜Why do I feel like Iâ€™ve just quoted a line from a famous book?â€™

He rubbed his hand across his chin trying to work it out.

Max stared at him with her throbbing head, wishing heâ€™d get on with it.

â€˜Oh well, not to worry. Letâ€™s continue with our expedition, shall we?â€™

Steinberger pivoted on his overzealous feet and cracked a quick pace along the deck and out of the VART. The sound of his clicking heels echoed around the hangar like a cicada-filled summer day as Linden put on a quick double-step to keep up. If the hangar for the aircraft was this big then the rest of Spyforce must be enormous, he thought, enjoying every minute of their tour.

Max lagged behind, annoyed at finding herself on the ground once again and especially annoyed at the lack of sympathy sheâ€™d received over her aching head.

Steinberger and Linden stopped before a darkened exit. Max eventually joined them.

â€˜Before we go any further, you need to step onto the Vibratron 5000 and have your vibrations recorded.â€™

â€˜Vibra-what?â€™ asked Max, thinking some of Steinbergerâ€™s brain cells must have come loose during their high-speed flight.

â€˜The Vibratron 5000. There is one at every possible entry point into Spyforce. All you need to do is step onto these specially sensitised tiles which will read the vibrations of your body.â€™

â€˜And why would I want to do that?â€™ blurted Max, thinking she was going to be pushed around again just like in the Automatic People Sanitiser.

â€˜Itâ€™s one way we identify people who enter the agency,â€™ Steinberger continued, not seeming to notice Maxâ€™s bad mood at all. â€˜The floors throughout Spyforce are made out of a specially constructed material that is very absorbent, very quiet and can identify the person walking on them merely by reading their vibrations.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™s excellent!â€™ Linden exclaimed. But Max was dubious as she looked down at the arrangement of dark tiles at her feet.

â€˜Would you like to go first?â€™ Steinberger asked her like he was granting her some great wish.

Thinking sheâ€™d probably regret it, Max stepped carefully onto the tiles. As soon as she did, they lit up in a rich, pulsing red colour like burning hot coals. She became nervous, but when she tried to jump off, her shoes felt like they were glued to the floor. She was about to scream when a gentle buzz trembled inside her like a million soft drink bubbles making their way up her body.

Then â€¦ Ping! The red pulsing light faded and the process was finished.

â€˜Now anywhere you go in Spyforce you can be positively identified. Linden?â€™

Linden jumped on quickly as soon as Max got out of the way, ready to experience the full force of the Vibratron 5000.

The tiles lit up again and Lindenâ€™s face broke into a wide smile as the bubble effect tingled throughout his body.

â€˜Good, isnâ€™t it?â€™ asked Steinberger, remembering his first experience of the device. â€˜Itâ€™s never quite the same after the first time. Now, on with the rest of the tour.â€™

Steinberger turned down a corridor that seemed to go on forever. Small lights on either side of the floor and ceiling disappeared far away, so that it looked like they were walking in space. He marched quickly ahead, blathering away and pointing out other special characteristics of the building.

Suddenly a small, bent man appeared in front of Max and Linden stopping them dead in their tracks. His eyes burrowed into them from behind half-closed lids and a long grey fringe that sagged in front of his face like stringy old washing. A ragged scar ran the length of his cheek and down past his grey stubbled chin before it disappeared into the collar of his shirt. His hands were buried in a deep maroon coat that hung limply over two spindly, insect-thin legs and long white socks like chalk sticks that crept up to his buckled knees.

â€˜What are you doing here?â€™ he snarled at them as Delilah appeared from nowhere and jumped into his arms.

Max and Linden felt the temperature around them drop as Steinberger walked on prattling merrily to himself, oblivious of the mysterious strangerâ€™s sudden and unexpected appearance.

Max tried to explain.

â€˜Weâ€™reâ€”â€™

â€˜I know who you are,â€™ the old man snapped, running his bony fingers along the length of the purring feline. â€˜I know everything that goes on around here. Just donâ€™t think youâ€™re anyone important because youâ€™ve been given some kind of special invitation to this place. Others like you have come before and have never been seen again. So be warned. Stay out of my way and youâ€™ll stand a chance of getting out of here in one piece â€¦ if you get out at all.â€™

â€˜Ah, Dretch,â€™ Steinberger called from down the corridor, turning to see where Max and Linden were. â€˜I see youâ€™ve met our two guests.â€™

Steinberger clopped gaily towards them as Dretch leant down and whispered an icy caution.

â€˜Iâ€™ve got no intention of playing nursemaid to you two, so donâ€™t come looking to me for help when you get into trouble,â€™ he spat, like heâ€™d had more than his fair share of meanness handed out to him at birth.

By this time Steinberger was standing next to them.

â€˜Let me introduce you properly,â€™ he said. â€˜My guess is Dretch has been too modest about himself and has neglected to tell you that he is one of the best agents Spyforce has ever known. He now works exclusively on-site as our maintenance expert at the agency and I can tell you, if it wasnâ€™t for him, this place would have fallen apart a long time ago.â€™

Dretch looked away. Whether because it wasnâ€™t true or because he had something to hide, Max couldnâ€™t tell.

â€˜And of course you already know Delilah. Here kitty,â€™ cooed Steinberger, but as he tried to pat her, she offered a disgruntled hiss and turned her head away. â€˜Well, ah, we must keep moving. There are a few more things we need to do before we meet Harrison,â€™ he said, ticking something off on his notepad.

Max thought she saw Dretch flinch when he heard the name Harrison, but after what heâ€™d said to them, she thought it also could have been because of his instant dislike of them.

Steinberger walked down the corridor. Before Max and Linden could follow him, Dretch left them with one final word of warning.

â€˜Watch your backs, kiddies. Because if you donâ€™t, something bad might happen and it would be a terrible shame to lose our new guests so early on in their visit.â€™

He stepped aside for them to catch up to Steinberger.

Max and Lindenâ€™s heads swam with a mixture of fear and curiosity as they moved past the crooked old man. Who was he and why was he so mean? And what did he mean when he said others had come before and had never been seen again? And what happened to change him from a top agent to a maintenance man?

Max and Linden stuck close to Steinberger, deciding to avoid Dretch as much as they could, but something about what he said echoed in Maxâ€™s mind like a beacon warning ships of treacherous rocks ahead.

âGo on, try it.â

Max and Linden sat in the glare of the Spyforce canteen lights. Black-suited adults moved around them ordering multicoloured muffins, crunching on striped toast and sipping hot pink coffee. It was morning tea time and the canteen was busy. They sat beside Steinberger and looked at the lumpy green concoction in front of them and tried to think of a way of getting out of having any.

âIt looks really lovely,â Max fibbed. âBut Iâm still full from the banana smoothie I had on the jet.â

âYeah,â added Linden, rummaging through his brain for his own excuse. âThat ice cream really filled me up too.â

Steinberger tucked into the cake like it was made with the best-tasting ingredients in the world.

âI donât know what it is, but I just canât get enough of Ireneâs sponge cakes. Take my word for it, you wonât regret it.â He pushed the bulging, baked mess on the platter closer to both of them. âGo on. Just try a bit. If thatâs not the best piece of cake youâve ever had, you can stand me on my head and call me Charlie.â

Steinberger was getting stranger and stranger by the minute, and pouring another helping of fluorescent blue, gooey stuff over the slime green muck on his plate only proved it further. Max and Linden didnât want to offend him, especially as they may need his help if they ran into Dretch again. They reached for a spoon and squelched out two miniscule portions.

The spoon made a kind of sucking sound as it made its way out of the gloopy frog-coloured mess. Maybe thatâs what gave it its colour, mashed frogs, Linden thought as he stared at the Kermit-tinted spoon in front of him. Max looked at hers and held her breath, thinking that at least if she blocked her nose she wouldnât taste very much of it. They took one last look at each other and in a silent countdown to three, closed their eyes and prepared to sample the chunderful paste. As soon as the spoon touched their mouths, however, something wonderful happened. It was like their tongues were being zapped by the yummiest tastes ever.

âWow, these spies really know their food,â Linden squished through another mouthful of cake. âEven if the colour schemeâs a little bizarre.â

âWhatâs even more bizarre is a life thatâs got no colour in it at all,â boomed a voice behind them, velvety and smooth like a rich chocolate sauce.

âAh, Irene,â said Steinberger, wiping away two splodges of fluorescent blue gunk lighting up the corners of his mouth. âMax, Linden and I were just admiring your latest work of art.â

âSo these are our two little visitors, eh? Welcome to Spyforce and to my newest creation â the Slimy Toadstool.â

So this was Irene. The inventor of the invisible jet formula. She was a rounded woman wearing almost every colour imaginable so that she looked like a human carousel. She had bright orange hair, red glasses, rosella earrings and a bright dress that raced around her curves like the blurred colours of a Formula One track. Her apron was decorated like a tropical greenhouse and her shoes were made in the shape of green tree frogs. Irene obviously wasnât asked to do any undercover work.

âEverything our Irene touches is always original and always tasty,â declared Steinberger. âWhy, she used to be one of Londonâs finest chefs before coming here.â

âYeah, but I got sick of making tasty meals for skinny girls worried about being fat when they should have been more worried about being blown over in the wind,â complained Irene, waving her hands all over the place and just missing a spy carrying a plate of blue sausages balanced on a pillow of red mash. âAnd men whose clothes cost more than a small country makes in a year with no interest in anyoneâs conversations but their own. Oh, the fame was good. Lots of perks and all. Even got invited to afternoon tea with the Queen once. But Iâm not as young as I used to be and didnât want to waste any more time with people like that, so I joined Spyforce. Havenât looked back since. Anyway, got to get on. Harrisonâs got a do with some important people from Brazil later and needs something special whipped up.â

And with that Irene was off along the steaming bain-maries crammed with their unusual creations before swooping through the swinging kitchen doors like a toucan nose-diving for her next meal.

Steinberger finished off his last piece of Toadstool and wiped his mouth.

âAh,â he sighed. âThat hit the spot. Now weâre ready to meet the rest of the team. Come with me.â

Max and Linden hurriedly scraped their plates clean of green-blue cake, not wanting to waste a morsel, but as Max stood up, her head thumped into something hard above her, sending plates, cutlery and a wobbling, orange concoction flying through the air. Now normally everything would have landed all over her, covering her with some kind of muck, so she flung her hands over her head ready to be slimed. But when the crashing stopped and she realised she was fine, she opened her eyes and turned to see what damage had been done.

Crouching on the floor near her was a small man with his hands pressed against his ears. The wobbling orange concoction slithered down his hair and what was once a crisp, white labcoat.

âEverythingâs fine, Plomb. Just a simple accident.â

Steinberger was kneeling next to the man, looking into his eyes and talking slow and weird like he had peanut butter stuck to his teeth and he was trying to get it off.

âThese are our two guests I was telling you about. Max and Linden.â

The man looked around but didnât take his hands away from his ears.

âPleased to meet you,â he said in a voice so soft Max and Linden could hardly hear him. He then gave a small smile before quickly standing, stepping over the broken pile of fallen plates and hurrying out of the place.

âWho was that?â asked Linden.

âThat was Professor Plomb, our bomb expert.â Steinberger stood up and wiped some orange goop from his shoulder.

âWhy did he look so scared?â asked Max, feeling bad because sheâd made him run off so suddenly.

âHe doesnât like loud noises.â

âIsnât that a bit of a disadvantage for a bomb expert?â Linden frowned.

âIt actually works out quite well,â Steinberger pointed out as he made his way towards the canteen exit. âHis father was a bomb expert and his father before him. Plomb had always wanted to be a world class surfer until he realised he had an extreme case of hydrophobia, which left him with an unfortunate inability to go in the water. No good for a world champion surfer, of course, so he said goodbye to his watery ambitions and followed his fatherâs footsteps making bombs. But he did it making his own special mark. All the bombs he makes are silent.â

âSilent bombs?â Max and Linden asked together.

âYep. Heâs brilliant at them. Great for enabling Spyforce to infiltrate places without being heard. He makes all kinds too: stink bombs, tear bombs, coloured fart-gas bombs. He normally doesnât come out of his foam-walled lab but it looks like Irene has her orange and pumpkin mousse on today. He can never say no to that.â

Black-suited agents slid past them in the corridor like silent shadows, speaking in quiet mutterings into small palm-sized gadgets, whispering to each other in darkened corners or quietly hurrying by like they were on their way to an important mission.

Steinberger pulled out his notepad and looking down his list, gradually came to a slow stop.

âAh,â he said with a withering look. âFrond is next.â

His pen slowly circled the name as his expression became all glazed and dreamy-eyed.

Max and Linden gave each other a quick look. Max had seen this kind of behaviour before. She sighed and screwed up her face into an annoyed grimace.

âUm, Mr Steinberger?â she said, trying to snap him out of it so they could get on with the tour.

Steinberger didnât budge. He was now drawing flowers and hearts around Frondâs name and humming some kind of off-key love tune.

âMr Steinberger?â she said a little louder.

Still nothing.

Max pursed her lips. Sheâd had enough of this schmaltzy drivel.

âQuick! Fire!â she yelled as loudly as she could.

âWhere? What? Who?â stammered Steinberger as he spun around and tried to work out what the emergency was.

Agents near them stopped in their tracks. They stared at the two young strangers and rested their steady fingers against their jackets ready to reach for the secret weapons concealed inside.

Steinberger stopped spinning and seeing everything was fine, realised heâd possibly been a little preoccupied.

âSorry about that.â He blushed. âAll seems under control now, everyone,â he said to the agents who lowered their hands and cautiously continued on their way.

Linden made a bad attempt at hiding a smile as Steinberger pushed his hair back into place and tried to look a little more normal.

âLetâs get on with it, shall we?â He was doing his best to sound professional. âOtherwise weâll be late for our meeting with the boss himself.â

Harrison! Max and Lindenâs faces wiped clear of grimaces and smiles as they followed Steinberger down the hall and remembered their meeting. What would the head of a major spy organisation be like? And what did he want with them when he had the responsibility of the whole world to look after? Whatever the answer, if he flew them halfway across the world, it must be important.

At the end of the corridor they stopped and faced what Max and Linden quickly worked out was the end of the corridor.

No doors. No windows. Nothing.

With her hands firmly placed on her hips, Max swung around to face Steinberger.

âAnd now?â she asked in a voice that couldnât be described as her most polite.

âNow for the best part.â Steinberger was unable to contain his excitement and missed the Max attitude altogether. âThis is called the Wall of Goodness. There isnât another wall like it in the entire world,â he said importantly.

âThe Wall of Goodness? What happens here?â Linden was drawn into Steinbergerâs enthusiasm and was keen to have another Vibratron 5000 experience.

âThis is the entrance to the part of Spyforce that is restricted access and requires a further level of identification. As you will know, the location and layout of Spyforce is a heavily guarded secret from most of the outside world. Other areas of our agency such as the canteen, the sleeping quarters and the Finance Department, are low-security areas, but where we are about to enter, is the inner sanctum of the force,â he said grandly, like he was in the middle of an important scene from Star Wars.

âWhat about the Vibratron 5000? Isnât that enough to identify who we are?â Max was getting a little impatient and wasnât sure all this drama was necessary.

âTo a certain extent, yes,â Steinbergerâs Star Wars voice continued. âBut the Wall of Goodness acts as an advanced form of the old-fashioned lie detector. It has been made with a super-malleable substance that has been programmed to read bodily reactions to establish a personâs current state of goodness. Only if it recognises you as a good person will it permit you entry.â

âHas it ever recognised anyone as being bad?â Linden was intrigued.

Steinbergerâs face fell into a hurt scowl as though he was remembering something painful.

âOnly once.â

âWho was it?â Linden breathed, hanging on every word of the story.

âAn agent who was expelled from the Force in âunhappyâ circumstances.â

âA Spyforce agent?â gasped Linden.

âYes. Heâd stolen someoneâs vibrations, got past the Vibratron and was headed for the nerve centre of the Force when the Wall of Goodness raised the alarm and one of the most dangerous infiltrations of Spyforce was narrowly averted.â

Linden was stupefied. This was better than any spy story heâd ever read.

A few seconds of silence passed as Max stared at the two star-struck goons she was standing with.

âI really hate to break up this beautiful moment but do you think we could get on with it before I reach my next birthday?â

âYouâre right.â Steinberger collected himself and looked at his watch. âTime is running a bit thin. This next step we can all do together to save time. Just stare directly at the Wall of Goodness and stand as still as you can. You will notice it start to move like jelly. Thatâs the wallâs atoms reconfiguring at the approach of a human being and going into identification mode. It will then reach out and envelop you. Nothing more spectacular than Terminator Iâm afraid, but itâs still pretty good when you see it up close. After a few moments it will take a reading of your vital signs and your level of goodness before totally surrounding you and absorbing you into the heart of Spyforce.â

Great, thought Max. Why does everything in this place have to be so complicated?

Max, Linden and Steinberger stared at the wall in front of them. After a few seconds, everything happened just as they were told, except that when the wall oozed out and wrapped itself around them, it felt like warm, sticky custard. It squelched all over them and within a few seconds, Steinberger was sucked into the squishy structure in one quick slurp.

Lindenâs eyes widened like theyâd suddenly doubled in size.

âWow! Did you see that?â he gasped, finding it hard to speak while the wall kneaded him like a ball of human dough.

âDespite the fact that Iâm being mauled by a half-crazed wall, I can still see, you know,â Max retorted.

And then, just as the words were out of her mouth, Linden also disappeared in a guzzling splurt.

As the gooey body search continued, Max was definitely running out of the tiny scrap of patience she had left.

âLook, Wall. Let me save you the trouble. Iâm good, okay? So can I just go in now?â

The Wall of Goodness seemed to be having trouble deciding whether to let Max pass. It made choking, gurgling noises and jostled her around even more so that the massage became more like the spin cycle of a washing machine.

Max started to worry that she wasnât going to get through.

âCome â¦ on â¦ Wall. Pl â¦ ease?â she wobbled.

After one final heaving lurch, the wall totally enveloped her and she was gone, reforming its atoms and leaving nothing more than a solid stone structure that looked impenetrable.

â€˜Whaaa!â€™ exclaimed Max as she was thrust head first out the other side of the Wall of Goodness into a gaping tangle of lush fern leaves.

â€˜Congratulations!â€™ Steinberger exclaimed to her awkwardly positioned backside sticking out of the fern. â€˜You made it. Itâ€™s one of the toughest tests within Spyforce. You donâ€™t have to be truly evil to be denied entry. The wall will even stop people simply for not having the best interests of the agency at heart. Anyway, how was it?â€™

Max weeded herself out of the clinging fronds to see Lindenâ€™s and Steinbergerâ€™s eyes lit up like fireworks on New Yearâ€™s Eve.

Only she hadnâ€™t been invited to the party.

She was furious.

â€˜How was it?â€™ The way she asked the question, Linden knew her answer wasnâ€™t going to be pretty. â€˜I was just mauled by an arrogant wall that slobbered all over me like elephantâ€™s drool and treated me as though I was a leftover piece of modelling clay. And when itâ€™d finally had enough of me it vomited me out face first into this pile of nature clutter.â€™

Steinberger was disappointed that Max didnâ€™t seem to have enjoyed her experience.

â€˜You did unfortunately have a rather bumpy landing,â€™ he apologised. â€˜Most people come out of it a little more gently than you did. In fact, thatâ€™s the first time Iâ€™ve seen anyone have such a rough landing.â€™

Max plucked greenery from her hair and dropped it to the floor.

â€˜Max has many talents, Mr Steinberger, but gentle landings isnâ€™t one of them.â€™ Lindenâ€™s explanation failed to amuse Max and earned him one her well-measured glares.

â€˜Thanks, Mr Hilarious. The world has just become a better place now that it can add that joke to its list.â€™

â€˜I assure you both, that is the last of our identification procedures,â€™ Steinberger promised. â€˜If youâ€™d like to make your way through the green aisle in front of us we will meet our next important Spyforce agent.â€™

They were in a multi-level greenhouse where there seemed to be almost every different kind of plant in the world. There were weeping willows, oaks, eucalypts, jacarandas, fruit trees, flowers of all kinds, multicoloured algae, mosses and funguses splattered on rocks and cliffs, cactuses in special desert areas, palms, shrubs, bulbs, grasses, vines and waterlilies.

Max strode ahead at Steinbergerâ€™s invitation, careful not to trip over any vines or roots that might be lying in front of her.

â€˜Donâ€™t worry about her.â€™ Linden leant into Steinberger. â€˜She really is a nice person. It just doesnâ€™t come as naturally to her as it does to other people.â€™

Linden smiled a sweeping grin before he and Steinberger made their way down the palm-strewn pathway.

Among all the greenery were white-coated people beavering away like termites building a vast natural city. They were spraying, weeding, pruning, clipping and watering. They were leaning over boiling pots, crushing roots, extracting oils and dissecting delicate flower stems. Some were even standing on small white platforms hovering like dragonflies at the tops of the tallest trees.

In the middle of the greenhouse was a woman in a long red coat with her hair dressed up on her head like a overloaded beehive. Small flying bugs could be seen zooming in and out of the swaying mass of hair like theyâ€™d made their home there. She had little round glasses shaped like roses and a chain hanging from them that looked like red and yellow ladybugs.

When Max and Linden reached the woman, Steinberger was nowhere in sight.

â€˜You must be our two guests.â€™ She smiled widely. â€˜My name is Dr Frond. Iâ€™m in charge of the Plantorium here at Spyforce. Have you come here alone?â€™

Almost in answer to her question, a splash was heard somewhere behind them.

â€˜Steinbergerâ€™s here, isnâ€™t he?â€™ asked Frond. â€˜Quick, grab that rope will you?â€™

Linden reached behind him and took a rope that was hanging beneath Frondâ€™s workbench. Both he and Max followed her as she wove effortlessly through an intricate maze of plants, her red coat swishing behind her like a red light on a rescue truck.

â€˜The Japanese pond. I thought so,â€™ said Frond as they stood in front of a rich turquoise pool teaming with giant goldfish. She took the rope from Linden and threw it to a waterlogged Steinberger.

â€˜Ah â€¦ Frond,â€™ he managed soggily, once heâ€™d been hauled out of the water. â€˜How lovely to, ah, see you. Um, nice day outside.â€™

He had a lily pad perched on his head, a string of reeds dangling from his left ear and a flustered and peeved-looking goldfish poking out of his top pocket.

Max and Linden wondered when it was that the normally calm and collected Steinberger had been replaced with the bungling, stammering idiot standing in front of them.

â€˜I think youâ€™ll find itâ€™s been raining,â€™ Frond replied to Steinbergerâ€™s misguided weather report. She gently rescued the fish from his pocket and returned it to the pond. It gave what Max thought was a scowl before it flipped around and swam away.

Then something happened that twisted the puzzled expressions on Maxâ€™s and Lindenâ€™s faces even further.

Steinberger was lost for words.

He had nothing to say.

They could see the normally free-flowing words getting stuck somewhere between his throat and his blushing red face, which screwed up like heâ€™d been given some horrible stew he was being forced to eat and was threatening to go down the wrong way.

Linden thought heâ€™d save the situation from becoming even more awkward than it already was.

â€˜What happens in the Plantorium?â€™

There was an almost audible sigh of relief from everyone, especially Max, who thought if she had to deal with any more of Steinbergerâ€™s gooey-eyed mush, her brain would come screaming out of her head in protest.

â€˜This is where we make the serums, potions, powders, creams, lotions, pills and ointments that are used in Spyforce operations. We use only natural and plant-based ingredients to make our products, and of course, we never test them on animals. We here at Spyforce believe that animals are human too and plants can do as much as chemicals when it comes to fighting crime. And letâ€™s face it, weâ€™re not in the twentieth century anymore. If you donâ€™t have a green beating heart, youâ€™re behind the times.â€™

â€˜What kinds of products do you make?â€™ queried Max, thinking the Plantorium sounded more like a cosmetic factory than the important arm of a major spy agency.

â€˜Come and Iâ€™ll show you. Do we have time, Steinberger?â€™

Silence.

Max and Linden turned around to see him staring at Frond like someone had sucked the insides out of his head and turned him into a zombie.

â€˜Well?â€™ Maxâ€™s patience was really being given a good workout. â€˜Do we have time?â€™

â€˜Time?â€™

Glazed eyes. Lilting mouth. Steinberger had it bad.

â€˜Time to see what Dr Frond has to show us?â€™

â€˜Thereâ€™s always time for Dr Frond,â€™ he sprouted, and a great slooshing smile swung onto his cheeks.

Max and Linden continued to stare at him.

Steinberger noticed their staring and looked sharply down at his watch.

â€˜I mean, yes, there is a little time before we have to move on,â€™ he said more seriously.

â€˜Good. Follow me.â€™ Frond swished her red coat around her and eagerly scurried through the trees.

At one corner of the Plantorium, across a thick patch of woolly butt grass (itâ€™s actually called that) and through a heavily flowered wall of mimosa bush, was a frosted glass door. Frond opened the mossy hatch on a small algae-covered panel and pressed in a secret code. The door clicked open and allowed them all inside to what looked like a giant pharmacy. There were long gleaming white shelves that ran so high it was hard to see where they ended and the ceiling began. They stretched far back into the room like rows of schoolkids during an assembly, and nestled on each one were all sizes and shapes of bottles, tubes, jars, containers, boxes and tins.

â€˜We call this room the Secret Library for Ointments, Powders and Plant Products, or SLOPPP for short.â€™

Frond stepped up to one of the shelves and took down a small glass jar.

â€˜This is invisible cream,â€™ she announced like she was holding a precious stone. â€˜With just a thin layer of this cream applied to the skin, a person will become completely invisible. Some scientific theory dates the origin of the cream back to the thinkings of the ancient Egyptians. Why, there is a group of historians who believe invisibility creams had been in use in the ancient world for hundreds of years.â€™

Max and Linden were impressed.

â€˜Try some,â€™ she offered, but seeing their hesitation, Frond asked Steinberger if he wouldnâ€™t mind volunteering.

He managed to take a small step forward but failed miserably in trying to get his mouth to work. He flinched slightly as she took his hand and winced when a low giggle escaped from his lips.

â€˜This is very powerful stuff.â€™ She took a small swipe of the dark green cream and rubbed it into Steinbergerâ€™s hand. â€˜It can even be watered down and applied as a rinse if you need to become invisible in a hurry. All you need is the smallest amount, and there you have it.â€™

It was hard to tell if Steinberger was enjoying the experience or was about to pass out at any second, but what was easy to see, or rather not to see, was his disappearing hand.

The invisibility cream worked!

â€˜And here â€¦â€™ gasped Frond as she stretched for a jar almost out of her reach, â€˜â€¦ is the antidote. Just a little of this and all will return to normal.â€™

Steinberger quivered as Frondâ€™s fingers dipped into the blue-black antidote and were coming straight for him. Little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead like balls of fluff on woollen socks.

â€˜Done.â€™ She finished applying the cream and, like a wave pulling away from the beach, Steinbergerâ€™s hand reappeared. â€˜And thatâ€™s just one of the many products weâ€™ve developed here at the Plantorium. There are many more but Iâ€™m sure you have to be on your way. Harrison doesnâ€™t like to be kept waiting.â€™

â€˜Dr Frond?â€™ asked Max, picking up a bottle of purple liquid near her labelled â€˜Stun Perfume No 5â€™. â€˜What is the story with the labels?â€™

Pasted across the front of all the items on SLOPPPâ€™s shelves were green and gold labels that read â€˜Plantorium Health Coâ€™, and beneath that was the slogan â€˜Your health is our business. (A Kind to Trees initiative.)â€™

â€˜This is one of the commercial sides of the Force,â€™ explained Frond. â€˜While experimenting with plants we have come up with an array of natural products that have many benefits in everyday life. Wrinkle creams, anti-sag ointments, buttocks-firming lotions. That last one in particular is very popular and is one of Spyforceâ€™s biggest sellers. As long as there are sagging bottoms and wrinkled brows, weâ€™ll be in business for a long time. It costs a lot of money to run a spy agency and in these days of budget cuts and strict cost-cutting measures, we have to do all we can to stay in business.â€™

Max was perplexed.

â€˜So itâ€™s not good enough just to try and find bad guys and make the world a better place?â€™

â€˜In the old days. And in the movies, of course. But saving the world is an expensive business and weâ€™ve got to earn our keep. This is our way of doing just that.â€™

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

Everyone looked down at Steinbergerâ€™s pocket, which seemed to be beeping. Everyone except Steinberger, of course, who was busy trying to remember how to breathe and listen to Frond at the same time.

Frond offered a crooked smile. â€˜Thatâ€™ll be Harrison, I expect.â€™

At the mention of Harrison, Steinbergerâ€™s eyes snapped wide open. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his beeper, and after removing some green slime from the screen heâ€™d picked up from the pond, read the message.

â€˜So it is. Well, must be off. Itâ€™s time to find out the real reason youâ€™ve been asked to Spyforce.â€™

Steinberger stood in front of Frond and fretted over how to say goodbye. Suddenly he felt like every inch of him was on show and that any part of him could embarrass him terribly at any moment. He smiled painfully, then found he had the hiccups. He wiped sweat beads from his brow that were forming so fast they were like ants thatâ€™d found a picnic. Finally, he held out his hand, but as he did so Frond lifted hers to wave goodbye. They both laughed awkwardly. Then as Frond lowered her hand Steinberger raised his. They laughed again and lowered both their hands, at which point Steinberger dropped his pencil. As he bent down to pick it up, so did Frond, and their heads collided in a thudding bump.

Max was hoping this was going to be over soon before someone got really hurt.

â€˜Bye,â€™ Steinberger muttered to Frond. Rubbing his brow, he turned sharply and collided with one of the shelves sending Plantorium products cascading domino-style into a pile of all-natural mess.

He apologised to Frond and offered to clean up but Frond refused, saying it would be better if they were off.

Steinberger managed a muffled â€˜thank youâ€™ and turned to leave the SLOPPP followed by Linden and Max.

â€˜Good thing love doesnâ€™t make everyone this clumsy or hospitals would be filled with bleeding hearts and love-sick fracture cases,â€™ said Linden.

â€˜Better off without it at all,â€™ complained Max, watching Steinberger trap his finger in the door and wondering how heâ€™d got this far in life. â€˜For now, though, weâ€™ve got to worry about what Harrison wants.â€™

Steinbergerâ€™s injuries quickly faded from Maxâ€™s and Lindenâ€™s minds as their thoughts focused on the next few moments in front of them, which were going to put them directly in the middle of possibly the most important meeting of their lives.

Max steeled herself.

Iâ€™m ready, she thought. Spyforce, here I come.

Max and Linden followed a squelching Steinberger into the secret elevator that would plunge them through many levels to Harrisonâ€™s hidden office buried deep within the subterranean bowels of Spyforce. It was a secret elevator because not many people knew about it in the Force, and therefore the world, but also because it was concealed in a series of terracotta pots as big as phone boxes. Harrison had a real delight for terracotta pots, Steinberger had told them. Not all elevators were pots and not all pots were elevators, though, he went on to say, but a simple tap to the side of a pot to test if it was hollow would soon let you know.

Their terracotta elevator descended through the many secret levels of Spyforce as a back-tonormal Steinberger chatted on as he would have done in pre-Frond times.

When it came to a stop, a female voice melodiously hoped that theyâ€™d had an enjoyable journey and wished them a pleasant stay. Ducking their heads, they made their way out of the potplanted conveyor to Harrisonâ€™s floor, leaving the elevator to slip off behind them. Max flicked a clump of dirt from her shoulder and Linden picked a worm from his jumper and returned it to the soil as they took in their surroundings. They were in a plush and opulent foyer full of dark wooden tables and chairs that stood against the walls, reminding Max of starched waiters waiting for instructions. Lining the walls like a stiff-chinned guard of honour was a line of darkened paintings of suited men and women. They were like old portraits of queens, nobles and rich merchantâ€™s daughters, except that all these people had their faces blurred by a coloured, misty fog, like when someoneâ€™s on the news they donâ€™t want you to see so they smudge their faces. And at the bottom of each painting were gold plaques with a series of numbers and letters.

â€˜These are paintings of the most accomplished agents who have ever been at Spyforce,â€™ Steinberger intoned like he was leading a tour of Buckingham Palace. â€˜Itâ€™s our very own Hall of Fame. Of course we canâ€™t show their faces. If any of these agents were to be seen by the wrong eyes, there would be ghastly consequences.â€™

Max looked at the blurred faces as she followed Steinberger who was recounting tales of brave agents and their missions. She stopped in front of one of the paintings.

â€˜Linden?â€™ she said softly. â€˜Does this remind you of anybody?â€™

â€˜Yeah,â€™ he replied seriously. â€˜But I was in a snowstorm at the time so I canâ€™t be too sure itâ€™s them.â€™

He smiled broadly.

â€˜Look at the ring.â€™ Max ignored his joke as Linden leant in and saw a small ruby ring on the agentâ€™s hand.

â€˜Eleanor has a ring like that. So does my mum. My grandma gave identical ones to both of them before she died.â€™

â€˜Maybe itâ€™s your mum,â€™ he quipped, knowing from all heâ€™d heard about Maxâ€™s mum there was more chance of a herd of elephants performing a ballet.

â€˜Sure, brainboy. If it is Eleanor, why hasnâ€™t she ever told us?â€™

â€˜Maybe because itâ€™s someone else.â€™ Linden was finding it hard to picture Eleanor as a spy.

â€˜Maybe.â€™ But Max wasnâ€™t convinced. It was a pretty unusual ring.

â€˜Coming?â€™ Steinberger stood a little way ahead and stopped to let them catch up.

Their shoes sank into richly textured Turkish carpets â€” except Steinbergerâ€™s which hadnâ€™t dried out yet so were still squishing â€” and took them past glass cabinets crammed with trophies, awards, medals, relics, letters of gratitude and keys to various cities around the world.

Max came across a prominently positioned cabinet that held a blue silken cloth. Cradled in the cloth was an ornate, well-thumbed and important-looking book.

â€˜Whatâ€™s in this one?â€™ she asked.

â€˜Aah.â€™ Steinberger placed his hands in front of his face like he was about to pray. â€˜That is the original Spyforce manual. Written by Harrisonâ€™s father and grandfather themselves. It contains the very essence of the Force itself.â€™

Steinberger lost himself somewhere Max and Linden couldnâ€™t see.

â€˜But we must get on. So much time and so little â€¦ No wait, Iâ€™ve done that. Letâ€™s just go.â€™

A few steps later, they came to a large wooden door with intricate images of eagles and echidnas carved into it. The eagles made sense, but echidnas? Max was starting to think that sometimes it was better not to ask too many questions.

Steinberger pushed a clump of dampened hair across his forehead and patted down his soggy blue suit in a futile attempt at dewrinkling it. Neither worked to improve his appearance which had been thoroughly restyled by the Japanese pond.

He stared at his watch. The second hand ticked its way towards twelve.

Slowly.

Max and Linden wondered what they were waiting for.

â€˜Usually when people want to enter these things, they just knock,â€™ Max offered.

â€˜Yes, of course.â€™ Steinberger nodded, his eyes fixed firmly on the dawdling second hand. â€˜Weâ€™re almost there.â€™

â€˜Aah,â€™ he aahed as the hand pointed to the twelve. â€˜Itâ€™s time.â€™

He knocked on the door. First two short knocks, then three longer ones, followed by two more quick ones.

â€˜Harrison will see you now. May the Force be with you.â€™

At that he erupted into a throaty, deep from-the-belly kind of laugh that jounced his tall, lanky body like he was being dangled at the end of a piece of elastic. A few seconds later, he calmed down and realised Max and Linden werenâ€™t amused.

â€˜Itâ€™s a bit of a joke here at Spyforce,â€™ he tried to explain but saw that his young companions were unmoved. â€˜Need to attend to my next task. Good luck,â€™ he offered seriously and squelched off to his terracotta ride.

â€˜I guess we better go in,â€™ said Max as she reached for the golden doorknob.

The door opened easily and quietly onto a darkened room with a high ceiling and long stained-glass windows. They could just barely make out the sunken leather lounges crowded with cushions, the plush, red velvet curtains and the fireplace with its twisted marble sides like bleached candy canes. Covering every measure of wall space were more portraits â€” their faces still obscured â€” certificates, awards, accolades, diplomas, the odd tennis racket and fishing rod, and shelves of books that looked like they were clinging to each other to stop from tumbling to the floor. Peppered throughout it all like out-of-place garden gnomes were all sizes and shapes of terracotta pots.

Max and Linden squinted through the dim light and spied a heavy oak desk in the centre of the room. They stepped over a collection of smaller-sized pots and came across a sign on the desk that said, â€˜The bossâ€™.

â€˜Looks like weâ€™ve got the right place, but whereâ€™s Harrison?â€™ Linden squinted even harder.

He picked up a copy of Drusilla Knuckleheadâ€™s crime thriller Dr Mullet and the Case of the Missing Toilet. â€˜Iâ€™ve read this one. Not one of her best. Woosed out on the ending.â€™

Max wasnâ€™t thinking about toilets, she was wondering where Harrison might be.

â€˜Maybe he was called away at the last minute on some really important business.â€™

Lindenâ€™s head filled with other ideas. â€˜Maybe heâ€™s foiling the plans of top criminals even as we speak!â€™

â€˜Maybe heâ€™s â€”â€™ Maxâ€™s theory was interrupted by a dull thud and a muffled grunt that came from under the desk. She put a finger against her lips in a shhh-like gesture and then, pressing her hands into the green leather top, she leant over the desk as far as she could.

There was a pause as her puzzled mind tried to catch the words in her head to describe what she was looking at.

â€˜Or maybe heâ€™s under the desk with a flowerpot stuck on his head.â€™

A stifled snort wriggled out of Lindenâ€™s mouth.

â€˜Right. I can see it now. The head of Spyforce under the desk with his head â€”â€™

His sentence was cut short by the appearance of a flowerpot rising from underneath the desk. Attached to the flowerpot were the shoulders and body of a man.

â€˜Effuff eee or eye aynge affearance uh ah ab im a mit of fubble,â€™ said the flowerpot.

Max and Lindenâ€™s faces screwed into puzzled stares. Was this some sort of code they were supposed to know? Were they also supposed to take a pot and put it on their heads as a sort of cone of silence to keep their meetings top secret? The arms beneath the pot pointed at the place where a head should be.

â€˜Oou oo eow ee?â€™

Linden decoded the miffled plant speak.

â€˜I think heâ€™s asking for our help.â€™

The pot nodded enthusiastically.

Max and Linden made their way around to the other side of the desk and grabbing hold of either side, tugged at the terracotta headpiece.

â€˜One â€¦ two â€¦ three â€¦â€™ and pulled hard.

The force of the tug pulled the pot away and flung Max and Linden across the room into a clumsily stacked rack of golf clubs.

â€˜Aahh.â€™ The man rubbed his head and felt to see if his ears were still attached. â€˜Not a bad job at all. I was conducting an investigation that went a bit wrong. Well done. Iâ€™m Harrison, by the way. Donâ€™t feel you have to stand so far away. Come closer if you like. Never was one for normalities â€¦ I mean, formalities.â€™

Max and Linden untangled themselves from the clubs and sat down in two huge leather armchairs in front of Harrisonâ€™s desk.

As Harrison said nothing.

And still nothing.

Linden was curious. â€˜Are we waiting for something?â€™

â€˜Should be here any minute.â€™

More waiting. Then a knock at the door.

â€˜Thatâ€™ll be them now.â€™ Harrison stood up and clapped his hands together in a grand slap. â€˜Now that weâ€™re all here, we can sing â€¦ I mean, begin.â€™

Max and Linden turned in their chairs as someone came through the door behind them. As their eyes ran over the guests, two things happened. Max looked like someone who had just sucked on a lemon and Lindenâ€™s crooked smile became even more crooked. He may have even blushed a little.

â€˜Ella!â€™

â€˜Linden! They didnâ€™t tell me you were going to be here.â€™

â€˜Me either.â€™ He blushed even more. â€˜I mean, they didnâ€™t tell me about you being here. We got here by invisible jet.â€™

â€˜Invisible jet? I got here by a Sleek Machine. Itâ€™s a cross between a motorbike and a glider and moves at an oscillation level that makes it and objects that touch it undetectable to the human eye, unless you wear these special goggles.â€™ She pulled a pair of thick-lensed goggles from a jacket pocket. â€˜So you zoom above the cars and buses, and through red lights and no one can stop you.â€™

Steinberger stepped behind a transfixed Linden, whose lopsided smile got shoved over by a look of amazement. â€˜Awesome.â€™

Max watched it all and was trying to come to terms with the fact that her life had taken a disastrous turn for the worst.

â€˜Have you had the tour?â€™ Linden couldnâ€™t talk fast enough.

â€˜Yeah. How about the Vibratron 5000?â€™

â€˜Felt like a fizz frenzy all over me.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™s what I thought!â€™

â€˜Feels like one giant puke fest,â€™ Max grumbled, unsure how long itâ€™d be before sheâ€™d need a life-boat to save her from all the vomit-gush swirling around her.

â€˜Did you have any Slimy Toadstool?â€™

â€˜Two helpings,â€™ Ella admitted.

â€˜Howâ€™d you go on the Wall of Goodness?â€™

â€˜Passed through without a hitch. It was like falling through a feather cloud.â€™

â€˜Of course it was,â€™ Max sneered quietly. â€˜Bet sheâ€™d slide straight through a Tunnel of Terror without a scratch too. And a Halo of Hellfire or a Fountain of Fear.â€™

â€˜Oh hello, Max. Youâ€™re here too. How great!â€™

Finally Miss Perfect has decided Iâ€™m not invisible after all, Max thought. â€˜Hi, Ella.â€™ She didnâ€™t put too much effort into trying to muster any enthusiasm.

Steinberger had cleared a pile of terracotta pots from another chair for Ella as Harrison got the meeting under way.

â€˜I thought it was time to bring my three young flies â€¦ I mean, spies â€¦ together in London to officially say thank you for thwarting Mr Blueâ€™s evil plans to steal the Time and Space Machine.*

Linden and Ella smiled at each other as Max was thinking of ways to erase the last few minutes of her life and replace them with a different version of events altogether.

One that didnâ€™t involve Ella.

â€˜How is the machine going? Ben and Francis finished it yet?â€™ Harrison asked hopefully.

Max hesitated. â€˜Thereâ€™s been a small hitch. Theyâ€™re really busy at the moment and itâ€™s going to take a little longer than they thought.â€™

â€˜Never mind. Weâ€™ll get in contact with him and see what help he needs from us. It will revolutionise the world once itâ€™s finished. As long as it stays out of Blueâ€™s hands the world will have everything to worry about â€¦ that is, nothing to worry about. Weâ€™d also like to offer you something. Steinberger?â€™

The tall, damp man stepped from behind the chairs and handed them three white scrolls tied with a red ribbon flecked with gold.

â€˜Max, would you like to read yours out cloud â€¦ I mean, loud?â€™ Harrison invited her.

She unrolled the parchment and read the message. There was a soft click before some official brass band-type music played quietly in the background.

Dear Max Remy,

For your bravery and services to this country and the world, I, Reginald Bartholomew Harrison, the Chief of Spyforce International Spy Agency, hereby invite you to be inducted into the Force and to carry out the noble and time-honoured task of fighting crime and other dastardly acts for the protection of humanity and the betterment of the world.

Signed

And following this was a scribbled smudge that looked like a misguided worm had slid through a puddle of ink and left its scrawled mark.

Steinberger reached across and after another click sound, which Max saw was the stop button on a tape machine, the music stopped.

â€˜What do you think?â€™ Harrisonâ€™s eyes lit up like a miniature amusement park and, Max thought, the room seemed to go even dimmer. â€˜The bravery and skill you exhibited in outsmarting Blue are some of the finest examples of, well, bravery and skill weâ€™ve seen at the Force and we think youâ€™ll make excellent additions to an already highly intelligent network of agents.â€™

Max turned to look at Linden, but he was smiling at Ella who was looking back at him and blushing like some kind of sunburnt sea slug.

Harrison continued.

â€˜Thereâ€™ll be times when youâ€™ll be incognito at some of the worldâ€™s richest playgrounds or standing side by side with some of the most sinister human beings to ever get dressed in the mornings. Or times when youâ€™ll be facing situations so terrifying, itâ€™ll take all your energy just to keep sneezing â€¦ make that, breathing. Danger will become your closest associate, lurking behind you like a black panther. Quiet and dangerous and ready to strike at any second.â€™

As Harrison finished, the lights brightened and Max spied Steinberger at the dimmer switch.

She was stupefied. She was sitting in the headquarters of the worldâ€™s top spy agency, being asked to become a Superspy.

She tried to find a suitable answer to such an important invitation and cursed in her head when all she could come up with was, â€˜Okay.â€™

Ella and Linden were also in.

â€˜Yeah.â€™

â€˜Sounds great.â€™

â€˜Excrement â€¦ oops, sorry. I mean, excellent. Of course as Spyforce agents, your identity will remain a secret outside these walls and you will tell no one, not even your closest friends and relatives, of your position. Secrecy is the linchpin of our survival. And once youâ€™ve been inducted as agents of Spyforce, youâ€™re members for life. We just need to get you fitted out, give you your spy pack and a few others strings â€¦ make that things, and youâ€™ll be on your way.â€™

Just then a series of ringing sounds was heard.

â€˜Thatâ€™ll be the phone.â€™ Steinberger began looking around the room. â€˜What was it last time, sir?â€™ he asked Harrison.

â€˜Cricket bat, I think. It was the iron the time before that, which could have been nasty if itâ€™d been left on.â€™

Max, Linden and Ella looked on as the two men checked boxes, lifted papers and opened cupboards searching for the phone, and every now and then picking up cups, bells or rulers before saying â€˜helloâ€™.

â€˜Here it is.â€™ Harrison picked up a golf ball. He pulled the ball in two halves that were joined by a piece of electrical wire and spoke into it.

â€˜Hello?â€™

There followed a series of uh-huhâ€™s that became more solemn as the call went on.

Steinberger explained the phone situation. â€˜As a security measure, the Central Response Investigative Safety Patrol or CRISP, which is responsible for the internal security of Spyforce, changes the phone system on a regular basis.â€™

â€˜I see,â€™ Harrison continued. â€˜We only have one choice then.â€™

He clicked the two ends of the ball together and looked seriously at his three new agents.

â€˜Team, youâ€™re about to go on your first mission.â€™

Mission! Max sat up ready to accept her orders.

â€˜As you know, when you courageously uncovered the criminal activities of Blue, he resigned from the Department of Science and New Technologies and went very quiet for a while. Now if thereâ€™s one thing weâ€™ve learnt about Blue over the years, itâ€™s that when he goes quiet, you can bet your right shoe heâ€™s up to nothing â€¦ I mean, something.â€™

Harrison came back to the desk and sat importantly in his chair.

â€˜He seemed to have stopped his evil ways and adopted a new public face as the manufacturer of a range of food for kids. Heâ€™s marketed his foods with much success. Like the Alien Snot Jelly range, which is the number one jelly in the country. Everything looks innocent enough, but Spyforce has uncovered information which suggests Blue has invented a concoction, that when eaten, controls minds. Now that his foods are so popular he is going to include the ingredient in his recipes and begin his domination of the minds of children all over the world. We must slop him! I mean, stop him. And who better than the three of you to do it. Youâ€™ve seen first-hand how Blueâ€™s mind works and as kids you will be the perfect undercover agents for this mission. Of course, youâ€™ll need to be in disguise. As Blue has seen your faces, he will recognise you instantly if he sees you as you are.â€™

â€˜Weâ€™ll have aliases.â€™ Linden pictured himself smartly dressed and walking with the swagger and style of James Bond. Max pictured herself dangling from helicopters, climbing mountains and parachuting from planes.

â€˜What do we need to do?â€™ asked Ella.

â€˜You will infiltrate Blueâ€™s factory, Blueâ€™s Foods, and go undercover as â€¦â€™ Harrison paused to add dramatic effect, â€˜BRATTs.â€™

Maxâ€™s shoulders fell.

â€˜Excuse me?â€™

â€˜BRATTs. Bona-fide Registered Authorised Taste Testers.â€™

â€˜Is that a real job?â€™ Linden became excited.

â€˜It certainly is,â€™ Steinberger leapt in to clarify. â€˜There are kids who travel all around the world simply to taste new foods. They are accompanied by a parent or guardian who ensures they eat well and study for school as well as complete specified BRATT training courses.â€™

â€˜Why didnâ€™t anyone ever tell me about this before?â€™ Linden puzzled. â€˜Thatâ€™s it, Iâ€™m switching careers. I know Iâ€™ve only been a spy for about five minutes, but Iâ€™m not too big a man to say I made the wrong choice.â€™

Ella giggled as Linden tried for as long as he could to hold the serious pose heâ€™d taken. It didnâ€™t last long.

Max stared at both of them wondering what it would take to have their mission treated a little seriously.

Harrison completed his instructions. â€˜An agent has been placed in the factory as a nude technologist â€¦ um, excuse me, I mean a fully clothed, food technologist and will be your point of contact once inside. Sleek will take you as close as he can to the factory where another agent will meet you and declothe the rest of the mission details â€¦ thatâ€™s, um, disclose the details. For now Steinberger will take you to the lab where Quimby will equip you with all the deer you need â€¦ um, thatâ€™s gear you need, and provide you with your disguises and new aliases.â€™

He rose and stood at attention. Max, Linden and Ella followed his lead and only just held back an impulse to salute.

â€˜I believe youâ€™re the best team for this job and have no doubt that Mission Blueâ€™s Foods will be a swift and successful operation. Thereâ€™s just one thing left to say: all systems are go.â€™ Harrison surrendered a cheeky smirk. â€˜Always sounded so good when the Thunderbirds said it, so Iâ€™ve borrowed it for Spyforce. Good luck, team!â€™

With Harrisonâ€™s words resonating in their ears like the bells of Big Ben, Max, Linden and Ella followed Steinberger out of his office to be equipped for their first mission as Spyforce agents.

After a cramped ride in another terracotta pot, Max, Linden, Ella and Steinberger arrived at Quimbyâ€™s lab ready to be equipped for Mission Blueâ€™s Foods.

â€˜This is a very special part of the Force. Itâ€™s the birthplace of many of the inventions that are created here at Spyforce and is run by perhaps one of the most brilliant scientists in this country, maybe the world. Why thereâ€™s even â€¦â€™

Steinberger was cut off by the sudden appearance of Dretch stealing out of the lab. â€˜Ah, Dretch. Good to see you again. Doing a little maintenance work?â€™

Dretch flinched and spun round, offering the three new spies a prickly stare like theyâ€™d just run over his favourite pet. With one eye poking out from behind his craggy fringe, they each felt an icecold tingle run down their spines that made them want to reach for a long warm coat to stop their blood from freezing over.

â€˜Urrrrr,â€™ urred Dretch as he skulked away, his sagging maroon coat only just managing to cling to his hunched shoulders.

â€˜The Hunchback of Notre Dame stands a good chance of losing his job as long as that guyâ€™s around,â€™ Ella shivered, still trying to shake the icy chill.

â€˜Yeah and if the Hunchback was ever hard up on cash he could earn a few dollars giving Dretch a few beauty tips.â€™ Linden rubbed his shoulders, trying to get some warmth back into them.

Just then, Delilah burst out from behind the lab door and screeched past Maxâ€™s nose before landing expertly on all four paws and rushing after her owner.

Max wasnâ€™t feeling so comical about Dretchâ€™s bad attitude or his catâ€™s sudden appearance. She needed to know more.

â€˜Whatâ€™s wrong with him?â€™ she demanded of Steinberger.

â€˜Dretch? Nothing. Heâ€™s just got a different way of looking at the world from most people.â€™ And then he baulked like he was trying to work out how to say the next part. â€˜Sometimes when things go wrong it can leave people quite â€¦ changed.â€™

â€˜Did something bad happen to him when he was a spy?â€™

â€˜Letâ€™s just say thereâ€™s a kind and good man hidden beneath that somewhat rough exterior.â€™

â€˜Any more rough an exterior and he could double as barbed wire,â€™ mumbled Linden.

Max wasnâ€™t going to let Steinberger off so easily. â€˜But what did he mean when he said others like us have come before and have never been seen again?â€™

â€˜He said that?â€™

â€˜Yes. Outside the VART.â€™

â€˜He has an unusual sense of humour not many of us share. Trust me. Heâ€™d never mean that.â€™

Steinberger turned away, eager to end the conversation and knocked on the door of the lab.

â€˜Come in,â€™ a small disembodied voice moused from within.

Steinberger led the way inside but Max wasnâ€™t satisfied. That was the second time theyâ€™d seen Dretch and something told her he may not have been in the lab for Spyforce business alone. And how come he was in there just as they were about to receive their spy packs? Heâ€™d made it clear he didnâ€™t want them around and maybe he was planning something to get rid of them sooner. She made a note to keep an eye on Dretch and was determined to find out what it was Steinberger wasnâ€™t saying about him.

The lab was a shining maze of chrome benches, transistors, resistors, circuit boards, cords, wires, diodes and electrical gadgets that ticked, flicked and whirred. There were cupboards with glass doors toppling over with jars, tubes and bottles. There were fridges, burners, beakers, soldering irons, clamps, safety masks and an enormous fish tank with seaweed, a little stone castle and a small tropical fish called Fish.

â€˜Team.â€™ Steinberger referred to them now as â€˜Teamâ€™. â€˜Meet Professor Quimby, the head inventor of Spyforce. Sheâ€™s a professor of physics, astrophysics, chemistry, robotics and holds the trophy for Spyforce bowling champion three years in a row.â€™

Quimby looked embarrassed.

â€˜A few lucky strikes, thatâ€™s all.â€™

She looked away and buried her burning red face in the long wisps of dark hair that fell around her head like a shower curtain. A bright pink scarf tied in a knot at the back of her head struggled to hold the rest of it in some kind of order. She wore a long yellow coat over baggy dark blue trousers and red and white striped trainers.

â€˜Before each Spyforce mission, our agents are supplied with packs that have been specially equipped for their particular assignment. Itâ€™s up to Quimby and the lab staff to read the mission specifications and decide what you may need. Theyâ€™re experts at this and have never been wrong yet. Quimby?â€™

The scientistâ€™s head shot up like sheâ€™d just heard a loud bang.

â€˜Would you like to take our new recruits through their packs?â€™

Quimby pushed another snaking piece of hair out of her face with her latex-gloved fingers. In front of her were three backpacks of differing designs and colours.

â€˜We donâ€™t have much time. Weâ€™ve been preparing for this mission for weeks and now that itâ€™s happening, weâ€™ve no time to lose. These may look like ordinary bags but they are in fact bottomless. No matter how much you put in them, they will never be full and never heavier than five kilograms. Also, if you open the pack completely, it can be spread out so far it can be used it as a coat, a piece of camouflage â€” it is colour sensitive so that it instantly blends in with your surroundings â€” or with these strings, even a parachute. It also has a special locking device that is sensitive to your fingerprints. The instant you touch it, the bag will recognise your prints and open only for you.â€™

She held out a booklet called 1001 Uses for a Super Pack. â€˜All the possible uses and functions of the bag are spelt out in this.â€™

She undid the zipper around one of the packs and opened the front cover to reveal what was inside and picked up a matchbox-sized device that looked like a miniature TV.

â€˜This is a Substance Analyser Meter, or SAM. It can identify almost any known substance in existence. All you need to do is hold the top end of the SAM to the substance you wish to identify and within seconds a reading of all the components of that substance will appear on this screen along with their level of toxicity or danger.â€™

â€˜Better not put it near one of your jokes or the thing will explode,â€™ Linden whispered in Maxâ€™s ear. Max opened her mouth to shoot off a reply but when she heard the tittering of Ella nearby, she pursed her lips so tightly they resembled the rear end of an uptight cat.

â€˜And this,â€™ continued Quimby, blowing an unruly piece of hair from her mouth, â€˜is a Danger Meter. In the presence of danger, it emits an electronic pulse. The stronger the vibrations, the more dangerous the situation. Itâ€™s best to wear this inside your clothes, so when thereâ€™s danger nearby, youâ€™ll know it instantly.â€™

She then picked up a circular metallic disc and held it carefully in her hand.

â€˜This precious thing moves objects from a distance. Just point the channelling beam at the object youâ€™d like to move and control the movement of the object with this miniature joystick. Itâ€™s called the RHINO, or the Remote Hauling Infra-nice Operator.â€™

â€˜Infra-nice?â€™ Ella queried.

â€˜Yeff,â€™ murmured Quimby as her scarf finally failed to hold back her wild hair and fell over her face. â€˜We decided we liked the name RHINO and we couldnâ€™t think of another suitable word that started with N.â€™

The professor then handed them each a watch and asked them to put them on.

Lindenâ€™s was a transparent ice-blue colour that showed the components working inside. Ellaâ€™s was silver with a fliptop cover that revealed a red metallic watchface, while Maxâ€™s was bright pink with a picture of a pony behind two sparkling watch hands.

â€˜Pink?â€™ she asked in disgust. â€˜I canâ€™t wear pink. And whatâ€™s with the pony?â€™

â€˜These are walkie-talkie watches,â€™ said Quimby timidly.

â€˜Iâ€™m sure they are,â€™ Max agreed firmly. â€˜But I canâ€™t be seen anywhere wearing this. Iâ€™ll have to have a different one.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™m afraid you canâ€™t,â€™ Quimby reasoned. â€˜Each watch has been specially made for each of you and adjusted to a certain frequency that is suited only to the allocated wearer.â€™

Max knew she couldnâ€™t argue against that and wanted to get on with the mission.

â€˜Okay. Iâ€™ll wear the stupid watch. How do they work?â€™

â€˜Simply adjust the frequency to the person you wish to speak to and press the side button to begin talking. Max, your frequency is one, Linden on two and Ella, youâ€™re on three.â€™

Quimby reached for another gadget.

â€˜This laser gun cuts through solid metal, this cupcake bomb lets off a silent wall of tear gas and the truth gum makes the chewer speak nothing but the truth. Everything you have in your packs has been personally checked by me and is in full working order,â€™ she finished proudly.

â€˜What do these lollipops do?â€™ asked Linden.

â€˜Nothing. Theyâ€™re just lollipops. A lot of agents have a sweet tooth so we throw them in as a treat. There are pens and notepads too that are also just pens and notepads. And these,â€™ said Quimby reaching for three covered coat hangers on a rack nearby, â€˜are your disguises.â€™

Max, Ella and Linden took their hangers as the sound of zippers being unzipped circled around the lab.

Quimby continued. â€˜From now on youâ€™ll be known as Cynthia, Jeremy and Angelina.â€™

Maxâ€™s face screwed into a crunched-up mess as she held out a pink ribboned dress and long blonde wig.

â€˜Donâ€™t tell me. Iâ€™m Cynthia.â€™

Ella held out a baggy pair of trousers and a bright T-shirt. â€˜Which I guess makes me Angelina.â€™

Linden sifted through his bag to find a pair of trainers, dark denim jeans and a sports shirt and cap. â€˜Hello there Jeremy.â€™

Max looked at both of them smiling smugly with their new identities. Of course theyâ€™d be happy, she thought, since the whole concept of fashion had managed to pass them by their entire lives. The watch was one thing but she wasnâ€™t going to take the rest of it lying down.

â€˜I donâ€™t want to be Cynthia.â€™

â€˜Max, itâ€™s just for the mission. Happens all the time in the business.â€™ Suddenly Linden was an authority.

â€˜Okay, Mr Expert. You be Cynthia.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™m a boy.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™ll be Cynthia,â€™ Ella volunteered.

Of course, Max thought. Little Miss Perfect once again acts all nice.

â€˜I donâ€™t want to be Angelina either,â€™ said Max, not willing to let Ella win.

All four of them stared at Max.

â€˜After the mission, youâ€™ll go back to being Max,â€™ Quimby assured her. â€˜But for now your identities are fixed.â€™

Just then Frond billowed through the door, her coat trailing behind her in a red swirling whoosh and her beehive hairdo half-collapsed like a mini Leaning Tower of Pisa. Steinbergerâ€™s face drained of colour so much he almost disappeared in the white glowing lab except for the beads of sweat that again began dappling his nervous brow.

â€˜Sorry Iâ€™m late. I got caught up with an oversized Venus Flytrap who mistook me for lunch. My fault. Should have remembered it was feeding time.â€™

Frondâ€™s coat pocket was torn and her sleeve seemed covered in some kind of milky-coloured goo. In a blurred daze, Steinberger lifted her hand which had a few scratch marks and a tiny trickle of blood. He wiped it against his jacket in a smooth, slow gesture but when he realised his hand was holding hers, he let it go instantly and looked very much like he was going to faint.

â€˜I think I might wait outside,â€™ he stammered, trying to work out how to make his feet walk towards the door and tripping over them in the process.

Frond was unphased as she lifted a small cotton pouch onto Quimbyâ€™s desk.

â€˜Iâ€™ve brought a few Plantorium goodies that may come in handy, like this sneeze powder. It makes people sneeze continuously and, as you know, itâ€™s impossible to sneeze and keep your eyes open at the same time. Just throw a little at the person you wish to distract. Great for when you need to make a quick getaway. Iâ€™ve also included a stink bomb for those times when you need to clear a room fast or just leave a nasty surprise for someone evil. Youâ€™ll find a face mask in there as well to save you from the bombâ€™s smelly wares and there are a few nature bars from Irene in case you get hungry. Packed full of fruit, vitamins and minerals.â€™

Then she stopped and smiled proudly. â€˜Good luck, and may the Force be with you.â€™

Max, Linden and Ella were shown to a series of change rooms nearby where they put on their new outfits. Linden and Ella looked up when Max came out, but before they had a chance to say anything, she stopped them.

â€˜Not one word, okay. Not a smirk, not a giggle. Nothing.â€™

She led the way, walking a little uneasily in her patent leather shoes and dress that looked like a giant pink marshmallow. She grabbed her pack, said goodbye and headed out of the lab where they found a calmer and more colourful Steinberger, happy to see the disguises working so well.

â€˜You look â€¦â€™ he began.

â€˜Um, itâ€™s best not to mention it actually,â€™ warned Linden.

â€˜Right. To the Vehicular All-Response Tower,â€™ he commanded, like he was leading some kind of cavalry in battle.

After another ride in a terracotta pot that took them on a short cut to the VART, Steinberger stood in front of them on the long metal deck as the lights above them swayed gently in the breeze. Sleek, dressed in brown leather goggles, a cap and a long, scuffed coat like he was some Second World War fighter pilot, warmed up the engine on the Sleek Machine below. Max, Linden and Ella stood ready for their journey, thick-lensed goggles hanging around their necks.

â€˜Good luck, team.â€™

Steinberger handed them their BRATT authorisation badges and papers as well as a London A-Z each. He also gave them some money and three rather large hankies.

â€˜My grandma always used to say, wherever you go youâ€™ll never be lost if you have a hanky and she hasnâ€™t been wrong yet.â€™

He was sounding a little choked up and tears moistened the corners of his eyes. Max took her hanky and hoped he wasnâ€™t going to cry. She hated anyone bawling in front of her. It made her feel annoyingly embarrassed and curious as to why people didnâ€™t save their tears until they were somewhere other people didnâ€™t have to witness them. Especially her.

Sleek made the final adjustments on his machine and wondered what the hold-up was.

â€˜Remember, use your watches to stay in close contact and make sure each other is safe at all times.â€™

Sleek revved the machine and eyed Steinberger through his goggles, wanting him to get a move on.

â€˜And this is my private line. In case you get into any trouble. Which you wonâ€™t. Iâ€™m sure of it. Itâ€™s just that â€”â€™

The horn blasted from the Sleek Machine as Ella took the slip of paper with Steinbergerâ€™s number and put it in her pocket.

â€˜Thanks.â€™

â€˜Good luck,â€™ he sniffed as Linden and Ella climbed on the back of the motorbike-like machine and Max sat in the sidecar, pushing her bulging pink dress down to fit it all in.

â€˜May the Force be â€”â€™

The rest of Steinbergerâ€™s farewell was lost in the thunder of the Sleek Machineâ€™s departure out of the VART and on to Blueâ€™s Foods, where Max, Ella and Linden would embark on their first Spyforce mission. Apart from the dress, Max knew this would be one of the greatest days of her life but what she didnâ€™t know was that deep inside her pack, a small regular pulsing was being emitted from her Danger Meter. The sound and vibrations of the Sleek Machine meant she felt none of it.

As the Sleek Machine left the VART, a small feline cry came from within a shadowy corner as a clutch of pale bony fingers ran the length of its deep black fur.

After an eventful ride through the skies of London dodging pigeons, swerving around statues and only narrowly missing being squashed by a double-decker bus as it entered a low level tunnel at the same time as they did, the Sleek Machine arrived with its four passengers in a small park, in a quiet street.

Max unfolded herself from the side car where she was squashed down so low only her head poked out above the leather cover. This, along with the constant flapping of a stray piece of pink dress in her face, meant that all of the sites sheâd heard Ella and Linden shouting about had been hidden from her.

Sleek flung one leg over the machine and taking care to avoid a large crack in the footpath, stood before his passengers. Like an airline steward on an intercom, he bid them goodbye.

âOne-way ride to somewhere in the vicinity of Blueâs Foods of the three new recruits complete. Please leave your goggles in the appropriate compartments and make sure you take all your belongings with you. Your contact will be here directly to advise you of your next move. Have a pleasant mission and thank you for flying with Sleek.â

His serious face flicked into a wide toothpaste advertisement grin before it snapped back into being serious again, as though some time in flying school heâd been advised of the importance of such a grin but hadnât quite got it right. Avoiding the crack in the footpath once again, he climbed back onto the Sleek Machine and flew into the afternoon. Within seconds the machine disappeared as the oscillation level for invisibility was reached.

âSome ride, huh?â Ella was pleased Linden got to try the Sleek Machine.

âHeaps better than I thought.â

âI wonder how far it can go? Do you think it could fly all over the world?â

âThatâd be awesome!â

Max looked at the two of them and wondered why whenever Linden was with Ella he started talking like he was an overacting presenter on some lame kidâs show. The ones that are all teeth and no talent.

âMaybe wondering about how weâre going to meet our contact would be a more clever way to use the brain capacities you have?â

Max turned away while Ella and Linden threw each other a shrugged look that said they knew they were in trouble but didnât really care.

âAnd maybe if you sold your brain to science they could work out the missing ingredient in having a sense of humour.â

âWhat was that?â Max spun round on her shiny black heels, not quite out of earshot of Lindenâs quip.

âI said maybe if our contactâs nearby they could work out where weâll be sitting by our professional demeanor.â

He whipped into his bag, pulled out his Danger Meter and began clipping it to the inside of his shirt. He concentrated on redoing his buttons to make sure his meter was properly concealed, but mostly to avoid Maxâs deadly gaze. Ella clipped hers onto the inside of her waistband, also eager to avoid the Maxvibes that were coming their way.

Max was sceptical and turned away abruptly to sit on a bench nearby. She looked up to see Ella and Linden talking and laughing as the bright sunny day lit up everything around them. She attached her Danger Meter to the satin pink lining of her dress so that it sat just above her heart. As she made sure it was firmly fastened she again felt that dull, familiar ache she felt whenever she moved houses and knew she was losing a friend. She looked at the two of them laughing and joking together and wondered why she couldnât be the one standing with Linden having a good time. Ella seemed to have everything: a nice mother, a good sense of humour and Linden liked her better. If only â

âPsssst.â

Maxâs self-pity was interrupted by what sounded like the hissing of a punctured tyre. She held her head still as her eyes roamed the park, trying to spy what it was.

âPssssssst.â

This time the sound was louder plus it sounded like it was coming from the garbage bin beside her.

Linden and Ella continued chatting, oblivious of the hissing bin.

âDown here.â The hissing had turned into a real voice. Max leant down into the bin to come face to face with a person looking back at her.

âCynthia Gordon?â

For an instant Max was going to say no, but then remembered her ridiculous pink outfit. âYep, thatâs me.â

âIâm Agent 31. Your first contact for Mission Blueâs Foods.â

âWhat are you doing in the bin?â She had to ask.

âIâm Spyforceâs secret hidden agent. Itâs my job to relay information to agents from discreet places. On the last mission I was posted in the steampipe of an ocean liner. Got a very warm bottom on that assignment, I can tell you. The one before that I was in a fish tank. Good thing I can hold my breath so long. Costs a fortune in dry cleaning bills but itâs a steady job and Iâm pretty good at it, if I donât say so myself.â

âHow can you fit your whole body in such small places?â Max eyed the barrel-sized bin.

âI studied the ancient eastern art of Physical Origami for ten years under one of the Grand Masters. You should see what she can do. Once she got in and out of a teapot in ten minutes flat. The tea tasted a bit funny after that but it was amazing to see.â

Max wondered if Agent 31 had mashed a few brain cells out of existence and whether his squashed up experiences had left him a bit loopy.

âAnd Iâm not loopy. I know thatâs what youâre thinking because I also study mind-reading by correspondence. The ancient wisdoms of the world are mysterious and wonderful.â

Ella and Linden noticed Max leaning into the bin and hurried over.

âAre you okay, Cynthia? Are you feeling sick?â Ella looked concerned.

Max disliked Ms Perfect even more because she could still be nice even after Max had been rude to her.

âThis is Agent 31. Heâs our contact.â

Ella and Linden stared at each other seeing no one around except Max.

âI think youâre getting a little too much sun,â Linden suggested.

âJust look in the bin.â

They leant over the rim and spied a crumpled man.

âPleased to meet you. Thirty-oneâs my name and informationâs my game.â

There really was a man in the bin.

âWhat do you have for us?â Max had her notepad ready to take down everything she needed to know. Agent 31 began his instructions.

âIn the last three months, Blueâs Foods has come to dominate the kidâs food business with his fancy new food flavours and marketing campaigns. His latest promotion even offered a trip to the moon to a lucky consumer of his Man in the Moon Cheesy Nibbles. You can imagine how many people bought those little fromagey treats. Anyway, now that so many kids are hooked on his foods, he is planning to add a secret ingredient over the next few months that will slowly take over the minds of kids everywhere, leaving him in control. Your mission is to enter Blueâs Foods as a BRATT â a Bona-fide Registered Authorised Taste Tester â find out the ingredient he is planning to use and stop him before he can have his wicked way. But remember, itâs not certain when Blue will start putting his plan into action, so whatever you do, donât eat the food.â

Max busily scribbled down all that 31 was saying.

âYour next step is to go to the lawns of Blueâs Foods where you will be ushered along to the food-tasting area. Here is the address and a map of the factory layout for each of you. We believe Blueâs office is located here.â He reached past an empty chip packet and a half-eaten sandwich to point to a particular location on Maxâs map.

âOnce settled into your position, you will contact an agent who has been working undercover as a food technologist. She is of medium build, has long dark hair and is expecting your arrival. When you see her you need to say this line, âThe bluebird sings a happy song,â and sheâll reply, âOnly when the sparrow farts.ââ

Ella and Linden stifled their giggles as Max quickly scribbled the message.

âGood luck and may the Force ââ

âBe with you â¦ We know.â Max stood up from the bench and took the London A-Z from her pack.

âThanks, Agent 31,â Ella said, trying to make up for Maxâs rude behaviour.

He smiled warmly. âCall me 31.â

âWill we see you again, 31?â asked Linden.

âPerhaps.â

âGot it.â Max had her finger on the location of Blueâs factory. âLetâs go.â

âRemember,â warned 31 before they left. âWatch out for Blue. No matter how nice he may seem, heâs one of the meanest characters in the business. And even though youâre the perfect agents for this mission, heâll have his eye out for you so donât do anything that will draw attention to yourselves.â

The three of them moved off with the agentâs warning circling in their heads. As their feet sank into the soft green carpet of grass beneath them, Max and Linden remembered the vulture-like look of satisfaction on Blueâs face as they dangled perilously over his vat of jelly. He was a man whoâd stop at nothing to get what he wanted and theyâd have to watch every step to keep out of his way.

Alex Crane looked over the rim of her thick tortoiseshell glasses and held up the Substance Analyser Meter, or SAM, in front of her.

â€˜Just as I thought.â€™

The reading was the final piece of proof that Blue was up to no good and if she didnâ€™t act quickly, heâ€™d begin one of the most evil plans of mind control the world had ever known.

â€˜Now to get this back to the lab.â€™ But before she could take a step, Blueâ€™s snivelling henchman, Kronch, snatched the SAM from her and threw it to the floor, smashing it into a million pieces.

â€˜I knew there was somethinâ€™ fishy about you. The head technologistician said she wasnâ€™t convinced you were just any food technologist, and guess what, she were right.â€™

Kronch paused for effect.

â€˜Ms â€¦ Alex â€¦ Crane.â€™

Alex flinched on hearing her name punctuated by this meat-brained, no-necked, half giant. Kronch was twice her size but had the brainpower of a rock. In a one-arm swoop he picked up Alex and strode towards the boiling cauldron of Vampire Blood Syrup.

â€˜In just a few seconds, Ms Crane, youâ€™ll turn from Superspy to super dessert. Kids all over the world will be slurping you up with their favourite vanilla ice cream and not even know it.â€™

Kronch held Alex over the boiling copper tub as the bubbling, sugary heat rose up and stung her nose and eyes. Kronch wasnâ€™t smart but he was every inch as mean as his uncle Theolodious Blue. Every inch as

â€˜Oooph!â€™ Alex Crane was jolted from Maxâ€™s thoughts and was replaced by the back of Ellaâ€™s head right up against her nose.

â€˜Oops. Sorry, Cynthia.â€™

Max boiled.

â€˜Donâ€™t stop so suddenly next time and maybe weâ€™ll all manage to get to where weâ€™re going in one piece.â€™

Max was her own mini-storm as she thundered past Ella towards the factory.

â€˜Donâ€™t worry about Max,â€™ Linden tried to comfort a downcast Ella. â€˜She has a really nice personality, she just sometimes forgets to bring it with her.â€™

There was no doubting who the factory belonged to. The building was a blazing modern kaleidoscope of glass and curves and colours gleaming in the sun like a mirage in a desert. Outside the factory was like a circus ground with splashes of red, blue, pink and yellow snuggled among leafy green trees filled with exotic birds and colourful butterflies buoyed on a calm, gentle breeze. Dotted around like giant marbles were statues of rounded chefs holding cartons of custards, stirring pots of puddings and juggling jars of jelly beans. Towering above everything was a fountain of fake juice spilling from a gigantic mouth and a bold and friendly sign that read, â€˜Blueâ€™s Foods â€¦ So good itâ€™s almost criminal.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™ll bet itâ€™s criminal.â€™ Max stood under the sign and thought about Ben, Eleanor and Francis and what Blue had done to them. â€˜Weâ€™ll get you yet.â€™

A sprawl of kids were arriving for the taste testing and after hugs and goodbyes and adults wiping corners of eyes with hankies, the BRATTs drifted into two lines. Ella waited in one as Linden stood behind Max in the other.

â€˜The food tasting title they gave us is just a name, you know. You donâ€™t actually have to live it out,â€™ he leant into her.

â€˜Iâ€™m not being a BRATT, but thanks for pointing it out. I just think she shouldnâ€™t have stopped so suddenly.â€™

â€˜Ellaâ€™s really nice and if youâ€™d just give her a chance youâ€™ll find that too.â€™

Max spun round. â€˜Who said anything about Ella? Itâ€™s not Ella Iâ€™m worried about. Iâ€™ve hardly even noticed Ella. Itâ€™s the mission Iâ€™m worried about, not Ella.â€™

By the amount of times Max said Ellaâ€™s name he knew the problem was definitely Ella. Linden sighed. One day heâ€™d understand girls, but today he wasnâ€™t even going to get close.

A large truck of a man sitting behind a desk at the front of the queue lifted his head to see what the commotion was. He eyed Max closely as she approached the desk and stepped into his darkened shadow. She felt her Danger Meter tingle inside her dress as her eyes rose warily up his bulky frame. He had stubby sausage-like fingers, arms as thick as an old lounge chair, a crumpled orange shirt stretched over his bulging belly and a bucket-sized head rimmed with a motley black and grey beard that was so thick you couldnâ€™t see his lips.

â€˜Badge and papers?â€™ the beard rustled.

Max reached in and took them out of her bag. The way the man was looking at them she wasnâ€™t sure he could read. Then she saw something else. Her eyes flung open like roller blinds as she read his name tag: â€˜Kronch.â€™

â€˜Kronch?â€™ She didnâ€™t realise sheâ€™d said it out loud.

â€˜Hmm?â€™ Kronch hmmed grumpily.

â€˜Nothing.â€™ Max felt like all the words had been sucked out of her head as she remembered her Alex Crane story.

â€˜First-timer, eh? Just do as the other BRATTs here do and you wonâ€™t get into any trouble â€¦ Cynthia.â€™ He said her name like he wasnâ€™t convinced it was hers.

Kronch looked down at a list in front of him. â€˜Room B for you.â€™ He gloated like it was some kind of punishment. Before he let her go he groaned, â€˜Wait, let me see that bag.â€™

Max stiffened. If Kronch saw what was inside her backpack they were done for. She tried to think of how to explain her way out of it.

â€˜Thereâ€™s not much in there, just a few â€”â€™

â€˜The bag.â€™ This time it wasnâ€™t a request as much as a quietly spoken threat.

Max took her bag off her shoulders and handed it over. Lindenâ€™s mouth went dry as he felt his temperature go up.

Kronch was enjoying every minute of their squirming, but when he tried to undo the bag, he got nowhere. He pulled at the zippers, tugged at the straps and then used his teeth to try and tear it open. Max made a mental note not to touch the bag where his slobber would have sunk in. The security system worked. It seemed the backpack really was meant for no one except Max.

Unable to open it, Kronch threw it to the floor. He moved his beard closer to Max so she could feel his warm, stale breath pouring all over her.

â€˜Iâ€™ll be keeping a careful eye on you, missy. Make one move out of line and Iâ€™ll be on you quicker than a rabbit trap.â€™

Max stepped aside and picked up her pack, unable to take her eyes off the hulking man. Linden stepped up and handed his papers over. He felt his Danger Meter shiver inside his shirt as well. There was something about Kronch that was like rolling black storm clouds after a hot and humid day. Everything was calm now, but any minute the skies were going to open up and come crashing down all over them.

â€˜Room F.â€™ Max was sure Kronch was smiling underneath his beard as he ordered Linden to a separate room.

They sidled away from the desk eager to get away from him as soon as possible. Kronch kept them in sight and spoke slyly into a mobile phone that looked like a domino in his baguette-like fingers. Ella met them on the neatly manicured lawn near a statue of a large jolly chef holding up a can of whipped cream.

â€˜Iâ€™m in Room B,â€™ she announced, hoping Linden would be there too.

â€˜Room F,â€™ he said disappointedly. â€˜Youâ€™re with Max.â€™

Ellaâ€™s smile faltered a little.

â€˜Weâ€™ll have to make sure we keep in touch with our watches.â€™

Max did her best to ignore Ellaâ€™s disappointment and turned to walk towards the factory entrance, but as she did, a strap on her pack got hooked on the thumb of the jolly chef and she was flung back into him like a ball on a piece of elastic.

Linden and Ella did their best not to smile but worried they were going to burst out laughing, moved off quickly. Behind them, Kronch finished his phone call, stood up and ambled through an oval side door painted as a giant strawberry.

Once inside, Linden said goodbye as he was led down a long polished corridor with glass floors. He could see down into the level below to a network of benches, stools, charts and bowls of brightly coloured foodstuff everywhere.

Ella and Max were led in the opposite direction. Maxâ€™s Danger Meter was only now quietening down after her encounter with Goliath. Ella saw her anxious face and guessed what she was thinking. â€˜I donâ€™t like being separated from Linden either.â€™

That was exactly how Max was feeling but she wasnâ€™t going to let Ella know she was right. â€˜The reason Iâ€™m worried is that my Danger Meter doesnâ€™t like the hulk we just met one bit. I think itâ€™s good weâ€™ve been split up. Weâ€™ll cover more area that way.â€™

â€˜Oh.â€™

â€˜For now letâ€™s concentrate on not doing anything that attracts attention.â€™

Just as Max finished saying this, she tripped over another BRATT who had bent over to do up his shoelace. She rolled over the top of him and landed on a skateboard that sped down the polished glass floor, past a forest of kidâ€™s legs before she crashed head first through the door of Room B straight into the boots of Kronch.

â€˜Canâ€™t you use a door like everyone else?â€™ His nostrils flared like a crazed horse about to bolt. â€˜Now find your seat and do the job youâ€™re here to do.â€™

The door opened and other BRATTs giggled as they stepped over Max. She struggled to her feet, rubbed her sore head and walked to her allocated desk.

Three food technicians in long white coats with clipboards and pens were pushing carts with different coloured bowls of food. Red, yellow, aqua and fluorescent pink mousses, custards, jellies and breakfast cereals. As they approached each desk, they handed over a few bowls and a piece of paper for each BRATT to fill out once theyâ€™d tasted their samples.

â€˜Do you think one of these is our contact?â€™ Ella breathed quietly.

â€˜Not sure.â€™ Max tried to catch the eyes of each of them. One technician was a short squat man with no hair and a moustache so thin it looked like he had drawn it on with a pencil. Another was a tall woman who chewed gum and wove through the desks nodding her head like she had a radio playing inside it. The final one was very serious, wore thick-rimmed glasses and her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Max had the feeling theyâ€™d met before. But how could that be? This was only her second time in London. Just then, the technician looked up and caught her eye. Then she pushed her cart towards Max and stopped alongside her to pick up several bowls and place them in front of Max. There wasnâ€™t any obvious sign she was their contact, but something told Max she was the one. She looked down, started to fill out her form and decided to give the signal.

â€˜The bluebird sings a happy song.â€™

The technician finished placing Maxâ€™s bowls on her desk and stepping between the two new spies, did the same for Ella. Max was disappointed. She was sure the contact was her.

The technician held her clipboard up in front of her face and whispered towards Max, â€˜Only when the sparrow farts.â€™

Max pressed so hard on her pencil she snapped the lead.

â€˜Cynthia?â€™

Max and Ella looked at each other.

â€˜Thatâ€™s me.â€™

â€˜Iâ€™m your contact. Crane. Alex Crane.â€™

Alex kept looking at her clipboard and marking off the food samples sheâ€™d given them as Max was dealing with a serious case of shock.

â€˜Who?â€™

â€˜Alex Crane,â€™ she repeated softly, barely moving her lips.

Max couldnâ€™t believe it. Alex Crane really existed! And she was standing beside her! On the same mission!

â€˜Iâ€™m Max!â€™ she almost yelled, plunging her overexcited hands across the desk and sending several bowls of blue and red food samples dribbling onto Alexâ€™s coat and trousers.

Kronchâ€™s head spun towards them.

Maxâ€™s embarrassment made her heart beat faster and her face fire up like she was sitting way too close to a heater.

â€˜Yes, I know â€¦ Cynthia,â€™ replied Alex, annoyed at Maxâ€™s clumsiness and at revealing her real name. She took a cloth off her trolley and wiped the gunk from her clothes. Max was mortified and desperately wished there was some way she could rewind the last few minutes of her life and start them all over again.

Alex handed out new samples and leant into them both, pretending to explain the food-tasting process. Kronch stared at them. His eyes like hungry sharks.

â€˜Harrisonâ€™s hunch was right. Blue is planning to add a secret ingredient to his food products. One that isnâ€™t marked on the packet. Which isnâ€™t surprising. Half the time you read the ingredients on products and you still donâ€™t know what youâ€™re eating. Flavour enhancers, colourings, preservatives.â€™

Alex was starting to sound like Maxâ€™s mother.

â€˜What does this secret ingredient do?â€™ asked Ella, not suffering from any of Maxâ€™s shock or embarrassment.

â€˜Itâ€™s called T3-35A. It surrounds the part of the mind that determines good from bad and stops it from working, much like an antibiotic around bacteria, leaving the evil side of a personâ€™s mind to take over. It can make an ordinarily good person become evil almost instantly.â€™

Kronch was getting suspicious at how long Alex had been with Max and Ella.

â€˜Meet me in Lab X in an hour and we can take a reading with your SAMs. I couldnâ€™t bring mine because of the rigorous search procedures for employees.â€™

â€˜Any problems here?â€™ Kronchâ€™s breath floated over them like blackened smog. Maxâ€™s Danger Meter vibrated inside her dress even harder than before.

â€˜No. Theyâ€™re all set now.â€™ Alex put her clipboard on her trolley and walked away.

â€˜Hurrumph,â€™ Kronch hurrumphed as he walked back to his desk.

â€˜Weâ€™ve got to tell Linden,â€™ Ella whispered.

â€˜Yep,â€™ said Max, managing to speak again. â€˜But weâ€™ve got to get Igor off our backs first. When heâ€™s lost interest in us, weâ€™ll sneak out of here, get a reading of the secret ingredient and head back to Spyforce.â€™

Max and Ella pretended to go about their tasting, careful not to put the food in their mouths. In her head Max saw herself knock over the bowls again and again and each time it happened, she became even more angry at herself for being such a klutz. She looked up and saw Kronch speaking furtively into his phone, like he was planning something devious. Something that probably was going to be bad for her. She hoped he would leave them alone, but with the impression sheâ€™d made on him so far, she knew that wasnâ€™t going to happen easily.

After half an hour of food testing, the BRATTs were given a short break to refresh their tastebuds with Blueâ€™s Foods Fresh-from-the-Spring Mineral Water. The glass-floored corridor filled with a frenzied clutch of kids drinking water and talking food samples as Max and Ella stood as far away as they could, trying to work out what to do.

â€˜Kronch is watching us so closely thereâ€™s no way weâ€™re going to be able to sneak away and meet Alex,â€™ Ella deduced.

â€˜You noticed.â€™ Max was chewing a fingernail and not trying one bit to be nice to her.

â€˜What do you think we should do?â€™

â€˜I think you should be quiet, so I can work that out.â€™

Max skated over some ideas in her head, wondering why of all the places in the world she had to share the part she was in with Ella.

â€˜Iâ€™ve got it! We canâ€™t sneak away, but Linden might be able to.â€™

Max put her hand to her chin, adjusted the frequency on her watch and began talking.

â€˜Come in Lin â€¦ I mean, Jeremy. Itâ€™s â€¦â€™ Max could hardly say it, â€˜Cynthia. Can you hear me?â€™

â€˜Loud and clear,â€™ came a tinny, wire-thin voice from her watch.

â€˜Good. Weâ€™ve got a plan â€”â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s no good,â€™ interrupted the voice.

â€˜What do you mean itâ€™s no good, you havenâ€™t heard it yet?â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s me. Angelina.â€™

â€˜What?â€™ Max turned around and saw Ella with her watch to her mouth.

â€˜Jeremy is frequency two.â€™

â€˜I knew that.â€™ Max hated being wrong and hated even more being told she was wrong. â€˜My frequency button must be stuck.â€™

Kronch came out of Room B and stood at the door, his eyes carving into them like chainsaws tearing through wood.

Max tried to ignore her Danger Meter and turned her back on Kronch as she spoke into her watch as discreetly as she could.

â€˜Jeremy, are you there? Weâ€™ve got proof that Blue is up to no good. Jeremy? Can you hear us?â€™

Nothing. Max tried again.

â€˜Can you hear us, Jeremy? We need your help.â€™

â€˜Ah, how Iâ€™ve missed that voice. So lovely to hear from you again.â€™ Maxâ€™s heart jolted in her chest like it momentarily forgot how to keep beating. â€˜I was just on the phone to Kronch who was telling me how lucky we are to have you with us â€¦ Ms Maxine Remy.â€™

It was Blue.

And he had Lindenâ€™s watch.

Which meant he must have Linden.

â€˜Your little game, Maxine, while brave, has unfortunately come undone and as you know, in this business, that sadly comes with unpleasant consequences.â€™ He paused. â€˜And perhaps some bad news for your little friend Linden.â€™

At the mention of Lindenâ€™s name, Max felt a wave of fury crash through her. If Blue hurt him in any way sheâ€™d do everything she could to make him regret it. Her finger pressed hard on the talk button to let him have it. â€˜Now listen, Blue â€”â€™ but before she could say anything further, the watch went dead.

Hearing Blueâ€™s voice again struck deep fear into her like she was sailing towards a hidden iceberg lurking dangerously in frozen waters. When she tried to swallow, it felt like an icy lump was stuck in her throat and what was worse, when she looked up, she saw Kronch heading straight for them.

â€˜Quick! Run!â€™ she yelled.

â€˜Where?â€™ Ella asked.

â€˜Not sure. Just run.â€™

They raced along the corridor followed by a lumbering Kronch. He pushed past a group of BRATTs sending them hurtling into fake jelly baths and gloopy mountains of imitation cheese. People below looked up as Maxâ€™s and Ellaâ€™s legs hurled them as fast as they could across the glass floor towards a huge twisting banana slide which connected their floor to the one below. They looked behind them and saw Kronch gaining on them.

â€˜Down there,â€™ Max instructed before leaping onto the slide and plunging round the yellow twists and turns and landing headfirst in the soft belly of an armchair shaped like a chef.

Max just managed to get out of the way as Ella nose-dived into the pudgy lounge.

â€˜Lucky you were here,â€™ she breathed at the chef, pulling her curls out of her face.

â€˜Urrrr.â€™

Ellaâ€™s eyes rocketed wide open as she thought the chair spoke back to her, but looking up, they saw it was Kronch, trying to lift his oversized body onto the banana slide. They considered each of the four corridors around them.

â€˜Which one do we take?â€™ Ella thought they all looked the same.

Kronch had managed to get one leg on the slide.

â€˜This one,â€™ Max decided and they sped off down the closest one.

They flew past noticeboards filled with posters of happy kids eating and laughing and cabinets filled with award winning Blueâ€™s Foods products. They ran so that each step was faster than the one before, until they came to an abrupt stop at a solid steel door.

Kronchâ€™s broken cry foghorned behind them as he toppled down the slide.

Gulping big drafts of air, Max tried the door.

â€˜Itâ€™s locked.â€™

A bellowing cry sounded behind them as Kronch missed the armchair and whacked straight into the concrete wall behind it.

â€˜My Danger Meter is going crazy,â€™ Ella breathed.

Then Max had an idea.

â€˜The laser!â€™ She reached into her pack, took the device from its hold and pointed it towards the lock. She pressed hard on the detonator button knowing this would be their only chance to get away from the fast approaching Kronch, but when her finger came to a stop, she stared at the small grey gadget trying to believe what she saw.

Nothing had happened. She pressed the detonator button again and again but still there was nothing. Quimbyâ€™s words zigzagged in her head. The ones that told her all their gadgets had been checked and were in full working order. What were they going to do now?

Ella inhaled a quick fear-filled breath as Kronch got closer and closer. She took her laser from her pack and aimed it at the door.

â€˜Itâ€™s worth a try,â€™ she explained, wishing as hard as she could that her laser would work.

She pressed the button hard and a sharp line of red light blasted a high-powered beam at the lock.

â€˜It works!â€™ she cried.

Kronchâ€™s plodding footsteps got closer and closer as the smell of melting steel filled their noses.

â€˜Quick,â€™ Max pleaded as the laser drew a heated line around the lock, leaving a puddle of liquefying mess at their feet.

Kronch was so close they could hear his laboured grunting as his stale breath clamoured to escape his lungs.

Ella held the laser firm, aiming it directly at the lock as Maxâ€™s mind raced back to when they collected their packs and to the last person she saw just before they entered the lab. Dretch! Of course. It was obvious he hated them and would get rid of them if he had the chance. He must have slipped into the lab to sabotage her laser before she picked it up. Which means he must be a double agent. That would explain why he flinched when he heard Harrisonâ€™s name. They were in deep trouble now but if they didnâ€™t get back to Spyforce soon, the very existence of the agency was in serious danger.

â€˜Please!â€™ Just as Max said this, the lock fell to the floor and the door creaked open.

â€˜Alright!â€™ they cheered before Kronchâ€™s thumping footsteps cut their celebration short.

Max took off through the door and skidded around a corner where she spied a goods lift in the shape of two bulging red lips.

â€˜In here!â€™ She parted the lips and Ella ducked inside with Max following quickly after her. She pressed the down button and pulling her hand quickly inside, the machine began its descent just as an enraged Kronch reached the top of the shaft and shouted down to them.

â€˜You wonâ€™t get away from me that easily, you brats.â€™

The words rained on them like a volley of poisonous darts.

Max took the map of the factory out of her pack. â€˜If my guess is right, Linden is being held in Blueâ€™s office.â€™

â€˜According to the CTR, heâ€™s somewhere much closer than that.â€™ Ella held the device in her hand and tried to estimate his position.

Max rolled her eyes. â€˜Or somewhere nearby, which I was going to say before you interrupted.â€™

â€˜What will we do when we find them?â€™ Ella was still nervous about Kronchâ€™s menacing threat.

â€˜I donâ€™t know. We can work that out on the way.â€™

Ella wasnâ€™t so sure that was the best thing to do. â€˜Donâ€™t you think we should work out a plan before we sneak up on one of the most evil masterminds in the world?â€™

Max looked up from her map and offered Ella a stare so icy it could have kept a packet of peas frozen for a month. â€˜Weâ€™ve got to get moving now or thereâ€™ll be none of Linden left to save.â€™

Then, just because she could be nasty, she added, â€˜Unless saving yourself is more important.â€™

For the first time ever, something snapped inside Ella and she decided sheâ€™d had enough of Maxâ€™s constant bad attitude.

â€˜You think youâ€™re always so right, donâ€™t you Ms Expert dot com? I donâ€™t know who told you your brain is superior to everyone elseâ€™s but if I was you Iâ€™d trade it in for a new one because the one youâ€™ve got is a real reject.â€™

Maxâ€™s head jerked back not sure she was hearing right.

Ella was just getting warmed up.

â€˜And another thing, Miss Crabby, itâ€™s obvious you donâ€™t have many skills as a people person but you could at least try and scrape together a little decency so youâ€™re a bit more pleasant to be around.â€™

Max was dumbfounded. Sheâ€™d never heard Ella speak like this before. Part of her was stunned that Ella could get so angry but the other part of her had to hand it to her. That was a good piece of insulting.

â€˜Lindenâ€™s right.â€™ Ella stuck her chin out and raised one eyebrow. â€˜You need to take yourself shopping for a badly needed dose of humour.â€™

The lift came to a halt and the hatch opened before them.

Max knew Linden didnâ€™t think she had such a great sense of humour. That was okay. She could handle not being very funny, but there was something about hearing it from Ella that really hurt. When she tried to think of something to say, the only thing she could come up with was, â€˜Oh yeah?â€™

â€˜Yeah,â€™ Ella said defiantly.

She bent her head and walked through another set of lips into a large, brightly lit basement. It was crammed with shiny metal cylinders mounted on tall, spindly legs that looked like gigantic, overweight insects. Steam was rising from their heads and the sound of bubbling echoed from inside them like hunger pains.

Ella crossed her arms in front of her and stared at Max, daring her to say more.

â€˜At least Iâ€™m taking this mission seriously,â€™ Max began. â€˜Unlike you, who is so caught up with looking pretty that you â€”â€™

â€˜Whatâ€™s going on?â€™ a voice nearby asked.

â€˜Wait your turn,â€™ Max snapped, resenting the interruption and continuing with Ella. â€˜Youâ€™re so caught up with looking pretty â€¦â€™

Max stopped and spun round.

â€˜Linden!â€™ she squealed as she threw her arms around him in a very unMax-like manner. â€˜We were so worried about you. Where have you been? Are you okay?â€™

Linden laughed and prised Maxâ€™s tight grip from his neck.

â€˜Thereâ€™s no need to get all gushy. I was only in a different lab.â€™

Shocked at her over-emotional reaction, Max straightened her dress and tried to find something else to do with her hands. She lowered her voice a few semitones. â€˜We thought you were with Blue?â€™

â€˜Why would I be with Blue?â€™ he asked.

â€˜He was speaking on your watch,â€™ Ella told him.

â€˜I must have dropped it somewhere,â€™ Linden said a little sheepishly, patting down what was for him an immaculately neat hairdo.

â€˜Thatâ€™s weird,â€™ Max puzzled. â€˜My Danger Meter is buzzing.â€™

â€˜The whole place down here is full of bad energy. This is where Blue is planning to add the secret ingredient,â€™ Linden added a little too quickly.

â€˜How do you know that?â€™ Ella questioned.

â€˜Well, where else would they do it? This is the main food preparation area if you look on the map.â€™

While Linden looked like Linden, except for the hair, there was something very unLindenish about him.

â€˜Guess who our contact is?â€™ Max suddenly remembered.

Linden seemed annoyed. â€˜Youâ€™ve met her already?â€™

â€˜Yep. Itâ€™s Alex Crane!â€™

She expected a big reaction but got none.

â€˜You know. Alex Crane. From my book.â€™ She was disappointed. Linden was the only one whoâ€™d read the Alex Crane adventures sheâ€™d written. Apart from Toby and the kids he read to at school while she was in the mud.

She checked her watch. â€˜Weâ€™ve arranged to meet her in Lab X in five minutes.â€™ To try and hide her disappointment at Lindenâ€™s lack of enthusiasm, she concentrated on the map. â€˜According to this, itâ€™s on the second floor â€”â€™

â€˜Donâ€™t worry about the map. I know a short cut,â€™ Linden cut in, not showing the least bit of curiosity at the fact that Alex Crane was real.

Ella threw an inquisitive glance at Max, who for the first time since theyâ€™d met, felt the same way as she did. They walked warily behind him through the spindly insect legs, beneath the rumbling metal stomachs and onto a conveyor belt that wound its way up and over, in and around the whole churning super kitchen. It then began a steep climb high into the extractor fan-filled ceiling.

Max was worried. There was something very slippery about the way Linden was behaving. Normally he would have been excited about meeting Alex. He wouldnâ€™t have minded her throwing her arms around him. He would have asked more questions about where theyâ€™d been. Especially of Ella. And the final clue that made her think something was wrong: he hadnâ€™t made one joke since theyâ€™d found each other.

â€˜Here we are,â€™ he announced as he hopped off the conveyor belt in front of a furry blue door surrounded by blue frosted windows.

â€˜Are you sure this is it?â€™ Max was expecting something very different of Lab X.

â€˜Yep. Come inside,â€™ Linden offered like he was inviting them into his own home.

He opened the door and stood aside as they moved into a dark, silent room.

â€˜Iâ€™ll get the light.â€™

They heard a click followed by the gentle infusing of soft light that revealed a totally blue room. Blue beanbags, blue floor covered by blue rugs, blue televisions, a blue fridge and a blue desk. There were even blue plants growing out of blue soil.

â€˜This doesnâ€™t look like a lab.â€™ Ellaâ€™s Danger Meter was going berserk.

â€˜Thatâ€™s because it isnâ€™t.â€™ They turned to see a figure at the top of a blue staircase with a thick, blue snake coiled around the railing.

It was Blue.

He moved down the stairs with catlike grace. Kronch stood at attention beside a moulded blue desk swathed in the light of a blue, jelly bean-shaped lamp.

â€˜Welcome, little ones. Weâ€™re so happy to have you with us.â€™

â€˜Well, donâ€™t get used to it,â€™ Max warned him, â€˜because we arenâ€™t staying.â€™ As she turned to go, the door slammed shut courtesy of a remote control clamped in Kronchâ€™s lumpen hand.

â€˜Whatâ€™ll we do now?â€™ Ella whispered to her friends. Before anyone could answer, something happened that even today can still make Maxâ€™s blood turn to ice.

Linden looked at them, smiled and walked slowly over to stand next to Blue.

â€˜Linden?â€™ Max wasnâ€™t sure what was happening but deep inside her she knew it wasnâ€™t good.

â€˜Mr Blue and I have been chatting.â€™ Lindenâ€™s voice was slow and deep, like a talking doll when the batteries are running low. â€˜He has convinced me that what he is doing here at Blueâ€™s Foods is for the good of humanity and Spyforce is only trying to stop that.â€™

A smile crawled up Blueâ€™s face like a spider climbing towards a fly trapped in his web. Slow. Dangerous. Ready to devour.

Normally Linden had a body that leant with a kind of slouch and wild hair that even heavy-duty cement couldnâ€™t tame. The Linden standing next to Blue looked like heâ€™d been stretched out on a rack, made ten centimetres taller and had hair so smooth and slick, it looked like one solid, glistening piece.

â€˜You now have two choices,â€™ he continued, like he was some overpaid businessman about to bankrupt a small country and enjoying every minute. â€˜You can join us and help the struggle of Blue against the unprogressive and selfish workings of Spyforce, or â€¦â€™ and at this he paused, sneaking Blue a devoted glance, â€˜you can enjoy the one-way thrill ride of the Moons of Mars confectionery room.â€™

Kronch let out a strangled snort.

Max and Ella felt like someone had wrenched them out of their lives and dumped them into a world they didnâ€™t understand.

Nothing was familiar.

Nothing made sense.

Linden not only agreed with Blue, he was now one of his most loyal supporters.

The Moons of Mars confectionery room was filled with a highway of bright red conveyor belts going in all directions and large, rounded cauldrons filling the air like oversized silver balloons. The cauldrons were labelled â€˜choc-biscuit mixtureâ€™, â€˜toffee-caramelâ€™ and â€˜hundreds and thousandsâ€™. Each of the machines was churning away, like a mechanical army pouring, sprinkling and slicing to a rhythmic, ordered beat, busily making the confectionery delights. The machine that had everyoneâ€™s attention was the one in the centre, where two securely bound prisoners were about to become part of the biscuity process.

Max and Ella hadnâ€™t accepted Lindenâ€™s offer of joining the ranks of Blueâ€™s Foods. In fact, Max had been so opposed to it, she suggested Linden take the offer and put it somewhere that sounded really painful. As a result of her blunt suggestion, Maxâ€™s and Ellaâ€™s backpacks had been removed and theyâ€™d been tied up with rope and tossed onto one of the conveyor belts like sausages on a barbecue.

Framed by stacks of large cotton bags filled with choc-biscuit mix and hundreds and thousands, industrial ovens, mixers, temperature gauges, rising steam and pipes that ran around the room like long fingers hugging the walls, Linden picked up a finished biscuit from a rack nearby and took a small bite. Again this was unlike Linden, who would have finished the chocolate mound in one swift munch.

â€˜At the moment, with everyone having minds of their own, the worldâ€™s in a complete mess.â€™ He took another careful nibble. â€˜I mean, look at it. Weâ€™ve got wars, famine, poverty, environmental collapse, banks, the GST. If only we had one unified way of thinking, the world would be without chaos and hatred for the first time in the history of mankind.â€™

â€˜Humankind,â€™ Max corrected.

Blue stood behind Linden, his hands held snugly across his chest, proud of his newest recruit and enjoying every minute of the crumbling friendships before him.

Linden finished the last of his biscuit. â€˜Youâ€™re too cute, Maxine.â€™

He knew Max hated being called that. She clenched her teeth so hard, she only just avoided chipping them.

Ella stared at the boy who was once her good friend but who was talking like someone she normally tried hard to avoid.

â€˜You donâ€™t really believe that, do you?â€™ she asked quietly. â€˜What about all that stuff we found out about Blue last time?â€™

â€˜Ella,â€™ Linden said with as much condescension in his voice as it could hold. â€˜At your age and with your intelligence, have you never heard of bad press?â€™

â€˜Bad press!â€™ Max shouted. â€˜Spyforce are the good guys and you know it.â€™

â€˜Donâ€™t talk to me about Spyforce!â€™ Blue shouted, his hands falling from his chest into two closed fists. â€˜Theyâ€™re the ones who canâ€™t recognise good from evil.â€™

Max stared at the unusually flustered and rouge-coloured Blue.

â€˜It is they who walk around pretending to be the good guys and pointing fingers at the bad guys when they havenâ€™t the least idea.â€™

Max watched Blueâ€™s chest lurching in and out like heâ€™d just run a marathon. A sprig of normally perfect hair fell in front of his face that had become distorted with anger. Max frowned as she tried to work out what sheâ€™d said that had upset Blue so much. Then she had it. It was something Steinberger had said to her at the Wall of Goodness.

â€˜You were the Spyforce agent who went bad, werenâ€™t you?â€™ She said it through a small, quiet gasp.

Blue pounced forward and slammed his fist onto the conveyor belt beside Maxâ€™s head. He was so close to her, she could feel his rage trembling inside him.

â€˜It wasnâ€™t me who went bad. It was them!â€™ The fury in his eyes lit the edges of his face with a dangerous glow. â€˜It was I who had the ideas to turn Spyforce into an organisation to reckon with. We could still do the good deeds they wanted but with a few clever deals of mine, they could have had vast reserves of money to solve any crime theyâ€™d wanted. But they wouldnâ€™t listen.â€™ Blueâ€™s face crumpled into an ugly sneer. â€˜Harrisonâ€™s do-gooding ways blinded him from seeing that what I was saying made perfect sense. We were a good team, Harrison and I, before he threw it away.â€™

Max knew she should have been scared but couldnâ€™t hold back a widening grin.

â€˜So they threw you out of the Force?â€™

Blueâ€™s eyes fixed on her malevolently like she was a target he was lining up. â€˜They didnâ€™t throw me out, I quit,â€™ he said in a voice that moved over her like a cold wind.

Just then the door of the confectionery room crashed open and a bound, gagged and struggling Alex Crane was hauled in by the bumbling, lumpish Kronch.

â€˜Alex?â€™ Maxâ€™s head spun round to see her hero being bundled in like a bag of potting mix.

â€˜Ah, you found her, Kronch. Well done.â€™ Blue straightened himself up, pushed his momentarily unruly hair into place and went back to being his usual, composed and evil self. â€˜Where was she?â€™

â€˜On her way here, looking for these kids. But I nabbed her before she got too close.â€™

Alex flinched in his grip, desperate to release herself from his leaden hold.

â€˜Thatâ€™s the most intriguing part about most humans,â€™ Blue puzzled, now back in control of his behaviour. â€˜They have this terrible weakness for other people. They build up all these emotions and loyalties. Terribly icky stuff that just gets in the way of life. Itâ€™s such a design fault. If I was in charge of designing humans, that would be the first thing to go.â€™

Kronch hardly moved as Alex squirmed and moaned through her gag. Linden smiled as Blue continued with his devilish plan.

â€˜Donâ€™t worry, Ms Crane. Kronch is about to help you get your wish of joining your young friends. Kronch?â€™

The oversized oaf nodded his bucket head and dragged Alex to the conveyor belt. After a brief struggle, she was securely tied to the belt between Max and Ella.

â€˜Take her gag away,â€™ Blue ordered. Kronch did as he was told as a smile filled with meanness etched into Blueâ€™s lips. â€˜Comfortable, Ms Crane?â€™

â€˜Iâ€™ve never been comfortable in the presence of snakes,â€™ she shot back.

Max smiled. Her hero was every bit as clever as sheâ€™d written.

â€˜Now now, Ms Crane. I donâ€™t think thereâ€™s any need for insults.â€™

â€˜That was no insult, Blue. It was the best compliment I could give you.â€™

Blueâ€™s smiled slipped a little, then he quickly resumed his composure.

â€˜Now that the whole gang is here, the Moons of Mars coating process can begin and we can be rid of three very pesky obstacles to making the world a better place. And this time I am going to stay and watch,â€™ he said, remembering the time Linden and Max had given him the slip. â€˜Linden? Would you do us the honour?â€™

Linden walked past Blue and Kronch towards a large green button secured under a plastic cover. Max and Ella watched him lift the cover, unable to believe their friend was about to have them turned into life-sized, sugary sweets. He looked across at them and smiled.

â€˜Itâ€™s for the best,â€™ he said, and lifting his hand he rested it on the button.

â€˜Once Linden has started the machine,â€™ Blue began with an air of delight surrounding every snivelling part of him, â€˜the conveyor belt will transport you under a delightful flow of choc-biscuit mixture, before youâ€™re given a coating of warm toffee-caramel. You will then be covered in the multi-coloured sweetness of hundreds and thousands. Soon after that, you will come face to face with the sharpened blades of the slicer which will carve you up into tasty, mouth-sized mini agents. Thatâ€™s my favourite part.â€™ He looked across at Linden who reflected an evil grin back. â€˜You will have roughly two minutes to do all youâ€™d like to do with the rest of your lives. Mind you,â€™ and at this he gloated even more, â€˜in this position, your options are somewhat limited.â€™

Ella remembered all the times she and Linden had emailed each other and spoken on the CTR. Her heart drooped as she watched one of the kindest, funniest people sheâ€™d ever met prepare to bring about her end.

â€˜Linden!â€™ she cried. â€˜You arenâ€™t really going to do this, are you?â€™

He stared at her like he was in a trance.

Max looked up at the metal cauldrons and the shining blades of the slicer waiting at attention for the order that would spell their doom. As much as she tried to deny it, Linden seemed to have been totally sucked in by Blueâ€™s cockamamie story about being the good guy. She looked at his blank face and struggled with the realisation that she was being betrayed by the one person in her life she thought was her friend.

â€˜Linden, what about our pact?â€™ For one instant she thought she saw a hint of hesitation in his eyes, but it was no good. He pressed his hand down on the button and the conveyor belt jerked to life, beginning the process that would take Max, Ella and Alex to their premature demise.

She frantically searched her mind for what they could do. When her backpack had been taken, sheâ€™d managed to sneakily grab a small satchel of sneeze powder. How could it be helpful?

Blue stared at his three bound prisoners like a hungry fox standing before a chicken coop.

â€˜Bon voyage, ladies, and farewell to your last attempt at foiling my brilliant plans.â€™

The clanging, whirring noise of the conveyor belt droned beneath Max, Ella and Alex as it transported them towards the cauldrons of the Moons of Mars confectionery machine.

Max swallowed nervously and shifted inside the snug-fitting ropes as she got closer and closer to the tilting vessels and the best friend sheâ€™d ever had stood nearby and watched. Her stomach twisted into a ball of sadness and fear. She spoke to Alex.

â€˜I liked what you said to Blue before. You really showed him,â€™ she stammered, still a little nervous about being so close to her hero.

Alex didnâ€™t reply. She was deep in thought, trying to sort out a way to save them.

â€˜It was really brave of you to risk your life to find us.â€™ She blushed. â€˜I always knew you would.â€™

Alex looked around like sheâ€™d only just heard Maxâ€™s voice. â€˜Sorry?â€™

There was something about Alexâ€™s tone that made Max feel she had it all wrong. â€˜It was good of you to try and save us?â€™ she tried again uneasily.

The glooping, oozing, sprinkling and slicing got closer as the conveyor belt carried them ever dangerously forward.

â€˜I didnâ€™t come back to save you. I came to get the SAM so I could take the reading of the new ingredient to send to Spyforce. Iâ€™m on a mission to save the world, not make new friends.â€™ And with that Alex went back to her thinking.

If Max felt sad before, she now felt like her heart had been tipped over and emptied of all the happiness it ever had in it. Her Danger Meter was going crazy while Blue, Kronch and Linden blissfully lapped up the prospect of their imminent demise at the hands of Blueâ€™s Moons of Mars confectionery machine.

Ella hadnâ€™t heard what Alex had said to Max because sheâ€™d noticed something strange about Linden.

â€˜Alex, Lindenâ€™s eyes are a bit weird looking.â€™

Alex turned her head towards Linden and focused on his eyes. They looked glazed with a slight blue tinge.

â€˜Heâ€™s been given the secret ingredient,â€™ she surmised. â€˜Blue instructed his technicians to make the side effects of the ingredient as minimal as possible, so they created a substance that is side-effect free except for a slight blue colouring to the eyes.â€™

The sound of the slicer was getting louder and louder, like a hundred sharpened, plunging guillotines. But as they continued to look at Linden, another strange thing happened.

â€˜Look,â€™ Ella gasped.

Linden was slowly reaching into his pocket.

â€˜Whatâ€™s he going to do?â€™ Maxâ€™s eyes widened, thinking perhaps Lindenâ€™s evil side had something else in store for them.

She looked over at Blue and Kronch. They hadnâ€™t noticed a thing. Blueâ€™s face was alight with a twitching, sickly smile and Kronch was indulging in a gross display of sniggering that was sending little balls of slobber spraying into the room. In fact, they were so preoccupied with the biscuity process that neither of them saw Linden pull the Spyforce RHINO from his pocket. He kept his eyes firmly pinned on the machine, looking like he too was enjoying the show, while, barely moving, he aimed the device at a large cauldron above Blueâ€™s head labelled â€˜toffee-caramelâ€™.

â€˜Whatâ€™s he doing?â€™ Max was confused, unsure of who or what to trust anymore, including what she was seeing.

â€˜Heâ€™s directing the RHINO towards that cauldron,â€™ Ella said as they edged closer to the squirting choc-biscuit mixture.

â€˜And heâ€™s going to try and save us,â€™ Alex added without emotion.

Lindenâ€™s eyes swept discreetly across to Max and sent her a small wink. For an instant she was bewildered about what it meant until she realised he needed her to distract Blue for the next part of his plan to work.

â€˜Hey, Blue!â€™ she shouted above the mechanical noise. â€˜Youâ€™re not as smart as you think you are, you know that?â€™

Slowly, she slid her fingers into the pocket of her pink dress.

Blue gave her a quizzical look, which made him turn his back on Linden.

â€˜Now Maxine, what can possibly make you say that? Iâ€™ve had you tied up and placed on a conveyor belt where you have barely a minute left before you will be no more.â€™

With his finger on the miniature joystick of the RHINO, Linden was manoeuvring the cauldron so it tilted towards Blueâ€™s head.

â€˜And what makes you think youâ€™re going to succeed?â€™ Max asked, reaching for the sneeze powder and carefully taking it out of her pocket.

Blue let loose a laugh just as a clump of choc-biscuit mixture blobbed right next to her ear.

â€˜Youâ€™re a feisty one, arenâ€™t you Maxine? Even when youâ€™re beaten. I admire that in you.â€™

â€˜Itâ€™s Max,â€™ she shot back, sick of people calling her that. â€˜If youâ€™re as smart as you think you are,â€™ she challenged, seeing Lindenâ€™s cauldron tip even further, â€˜youâ€™ll look up right now.â€™

Ellaâ€™s eyes widened as a large blob of biscuit mixture landed on Maxâ€™s chest.

â€˜Now Max, what would I possibly want to look up for?â€™

â€˜A final request?â€™ she said sweetly, her Danger Meter vibrating so hard it was almost pounding through her ribcage.

â€˜I guess it canâ€™t do any harm,â€™ Blue said. And as he did, the cauldron of gooey, toffee caramel poured over him in one gluggy spurt.

His cries were muffled as he quickly became enveloped in the hardening mixture. He tried to pull it off but it stretched around him like gluey brown pieces of chewing gum. Kronch stood rooted in the same spot as his pea-sized brain grappled with what was happening, and just as he worked it out, Max hurled the bag of sneeze powder at him in a mini-explosion of white, nose-irritating dust.

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™ Kronch sneezed and stumbling backwards bumping into machines, he landed head first in a fresh batch of toffee-caramel biscuit goo.

Linden picked up a biscuit mix bag and pulled it over Blueâ€™s head, causing him to fall in a sticky, mumbling heap. He then headed over to Ella and began untying her as another blob of mixture clomped on Max.

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™ Kronch continued to sneeze.

â€˜What happened?â€™ Ella wriggled in her loosening ropes. â€˜I was worried that you really believed all that stuff you said before.â€™

Linden untied the last of the knots and helped her off the moving belt. He then moved across to untie Alex.

â€˜I didnâ€™t realise at the time, but Iâ€™d been given a drink that had the secret ingredient in it. When it began wearing off I realised what was happening. Ahhchoo!â€™ Some of the sneeze powder had worked its way into Lindenâ€™s nose.

â€˜Mmmm mmmm mmm,â€™ Blue mmmed from inside his biscuit mix bag as he spun around like a miniature tornado.

Linden struggled with the last of Alexâ€™s knots before he moved across to help Max.

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™ Kronch sneezed.

â€˜When did it start to wear off?â€™ Max flicked her head as the brown toffee goo began falling on her.

â€˜Mmmm mmmm mmm,â€™ Blue mmmed and spun around some more.

â€˜Around the time I took you to Blueâ€™s office.â€™ Lindenâ€™s hands became covered with toffee caramel as he tried to undo the last of Maxâ€™s ropes.

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™

There was a pause.

â€˜Blueâ€™s office? Ahhchoo!â€™ Max had inhaled some of the powder as well.

â€˜Yeah.â€™ Linden was almost through the ropes as another glob of toffee landed on both of them.

â€˜You mean all the time weâ€™ve been here, thinking we were going to die, you were pretending? Ahhchoo!â€™ Max could feel her temper rising.

Linden realised that his plan, which had saved their lives, may not have sounded too good.

â€˜I canâ€™t believe youâ€™d do that!â€™

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™ Kronchâ€™s sneezing attack continued as he bumped into Blue who mmmed like he was in pain.

Max was totally covered by toffee caramel as the hundreds and thousands made their way toward her.

â€˜It was the only way I could get close enough to you to try and save you. Ahhchoo!â€™ he explained.

â€˜Wait until I get off here. Ahhchoo!â€™ Max warned, the sprinkling process falling on her like coloured snow.

â€˜Do you want to be freed or not?â€™ Linden asked, a little of the evil-inducing ingredient making him unusually impatient with Max.

Ella noticed the blades of the slicer getting closer and closer.

â€˜Maybe you two should talk about this later?â€™ she suggested anxiously.

â€˜Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo! Ahhchoo!â€™ Kronch sneezed as he stumbled into a bag of flour which powdered over everyone.

â€˜No. Iâ€™d like to talk about it now,â€™ Max insisted, before sneezing again.

â€˜Mmmm mmmm mmm,â€™ Blue mmmed again from inside his biscuit mix bag.

â€˜Max!â€™ Alex shouted.

â€˜And another thing â€”â€™ Max began.

â€˜Max! The blades!â€™ Ella cried.

Max looked up and saw shafts of glisten-ing steel fall just centimetres in front of her face. The next slice was meant for her. Just before they fell, Linden lunged forward and grabbing her arms, dragged her off the conveyor belt and onto the floor.

â€˜Ahhchoo!â€™ Max and Linden sneezed together.

Ella and Alex breathed a deep sigh as the Moons of Mars confectionery machine continued to whir on as if nothing had happened.

Max, Linden and Ella stood in front of Harrisonâ€™s desk holding fresh tropical juices Steinberger had made them. Actually, Ella and Linden were holding theirs while Maxâ€™s drink perched on a high stool near her face with a long straw in it because the Moons of Mars toffee mixture made it hard for her to move.

They each sipped and watched as Steinberger tried to help Harrison unhook his sling from a rack of fishing lines heâ€™d become entangled in. He was wearing a sling because of an accident heâ€™d had that morning, during a meeting with the Brazilian Foreign Minister, when he was reaching for a rare and unique garden gnome that was perched a little too high on the mantelpiece. He stretched up to the gnome, grabbed its foot, but unable to get a proper hold, stumbled backwards. He only just managed to catch the gnome with one hand as the other became twisted behind a marble carving of himself that was given to him as a present from the people of the Congo â€” when it used to be known as the Congo.

If Max could have moved or made any facial gestures, sheâ€™d have firmly folded her arms across her chest and be scowling at having spent the entire journey from Blueâ€™s Foods to Spyforce bent into Sleekâ€™s sidecar, while Linden and Ella chatted incessantly like a pair of lorikeets at sunset. They were all gush and froth as they talked about the mission and what was even more sucky, was Linden was saying some of it in French which heâ€™d started studying at school after Ella had told him she lived in Paris as a kid.

Blah blah blah, they went on and on. Ooh-la-la and big deal, thought Max. She was still angry with Linden for lying to her during the mission and making her feel like heâ€™d turned his back on her. Sheâ€™d never felt so alone in her whole life and here he was laughing and talking to Ella like it was nothing.

Finally, after a tricky struggle, Steinberger freed Harrison from the fishing rods and left him to make his way to his seat behind his desk.

â€˜Team,â€™ he said importantly, straightening his tie with his one good arm. â€˜Well bum â€¦ I mean, well done. On behalf of Spyforce Iâ€™d like to thank you for helping uncover the evil plans of Blue. Linden, the drink sample you brought back for us to test was put through the SAM and came up exactly as we thought. The special forces have been sent in and we hope to have Blue behind bars where he belongs.â€™

Ella sent Linden a warm smile that Max would have called â€˜soppyâ€™ if anyone had asked her. Which they didnâ€™t.

â€˜Awesome! Aaachoo!â€™ Linden still had traces of sneeze powder in his system.

â€˜Oh, and Max?â€™

Maxâ€™s heart tripped over itself.

â€˜Yes?â€™ she asked eagerly, hoping perhaps he had something special to tell her.

â€˜Sorry there isnâ€™t time to let you get cleaned up but Sleek has got the plane fired up and you know how he is about keeping to schedules.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™s okay,â€™ she lied, thinking her journey home couldnâ€™t be any more uncomfortable. She was still wearing that stupid pink dress while the other two stood around in their own clothes.

â€˜Spyforce is so proud of you three and would like to take this opportunity to officially declare Mission Blueâ€™s Foods a success.â€™

Harrison held his juice aloft as Steinberger pressed the play button on the tape machine and a chorus of celebration music sounded throughout the room. He then burst into an impulsive and hearty round of applause. Ella and Linden clinked their glasses together while Max sucked on her straw and felt an itch on her nose start up.

But that wasnâ€™t the only thing bugging her.

â€˜Mr Harrison? Whereâ€™s Alex?â€™

â€˜Alex doesnâ€™t like to hang around for the festivities. Neverhas. Sheâ€™s an elusiveone, our Alex.â€™

Max tried not to sound obvious. â€˜Did she leave any messages?â€™

â€˜Once a mission is finished, she just takes off. Sheâ€™s not too fond of goodbyes.â€™

Max was disappointed. She knew she and Alex hadnâ€™t got along too well but she was sure theyâ€™d be brilliant friends if they got to hang out a little more.

For now, though, there was something else she had to tell Harrison.

â€˜Thereâ€™s one more thing I need to tell you about the mission, sir. One of your Spyforce officers is a double agent.â€™

Linden and Ella looked at each other.

Harrisonâ€™s face clouded over.

â€˜Tell us what you blow â€¦ That is, what you know.â€™

Max knew what she had to say was going to shock everyone and she could hardly wait to tell them.

â€˜Itâ€™s Dretch.â€™

Steinberger frowned.

â€˜I thought weâ€™d been through this already, Max. Dretch is one of our most loyal members and has been with the Force since its inception.â€™

Harrison took the accusation very seriously.

â€˜Let her speak, Steinberger. Tell us how you know this, Max.â€™ Harrison put his sling on the table and prepared to listen.

â€˜When we arrived he made it clear he didnâ€™t like us and warned us we may not make it out of Spyforce alive. And his cat, Delilah, is his spy. Turning up to gather information just when it is needed. Dretch always flinched when he heard your name and he snuck into the lab and tampered with my laser so that it failed during the mission.â€™

Steinberger and Harrison exchanged a solemn look.

â€˜Steinberger. Ask Dretch to come in, will you?â€™

The tall lanky man did as he was asked. Max stood by and contemplated how proud Harrison would be of her now that the mission was completed and she was about to uncover a double agent.

â€˜You have made a very grave accusation, Max.â€™ Harrisonâ€™s voice was low and measured. â€˜Letâ€™s hope youâ€™re not jumping to conclusions.â€™

â€˜I have no doubt, sir.â€™ But hearing the tone of Harrisonâ€™s voice made Maxâ€™s certainty falter.

Within a few short minutes Dretch was standing among them.

â€˜Max tells us you might be a double agent,â€™ Harrison got straight to the point.

Dretch spun his head so fast towards Max she stepped back.

â€˜Did she now?â€™ His voice was full of anger. â€˜And what makes her think that?â€™

â€˜Max? I think itâ€™s best if it comes from you at this point,â€™ Harrison invited.

Max swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat.

â€˜Every time Harrisonâ€™s name was mentioned to you, youâ€™d flinch, almost as if in disgust.â€™

Dretch dug his hands deep into his pockets.

â€˜I never knew it was a crime to feel loyalty towards someone who is one of the most clever and brave men I know. Weâ€™ve worked on many missions together and Harrison always thought about others before himself. It will take my whole life to repay the kindness this man has shown.â€™

Max swallowed again.

â€˜And what about you sneaking into the lab just before we got our packs and my laser not working when I tried to use it during the mission?â€™

Dretch fixed her with a iron stare.

â€˜Quimby asked me to fix some equipment of hers. She was present every second I was there and can vouch for everything I did.â€™

â€˜And what about the threat you made to me about not making it out of here alive?â€™

Max suddenly became more confident, remembering the venom in his deadly warning.

â€˜If you must know I think itâ€™s dangerous to have kids working on missions when they arenâ€™t trained and canâ€™t make proper judgments. I was just letting you know that what you were stepping into wasnâ€™t fairyland but real and dangerous work.â€™

If Harrison wasnâ€™t present, Max was convinced Dretch would have jumped across the room and flattened her toffee-coated body into a million sweetened pieces.

â€˜Iâ€™m sorry for the interruption, Dretch. You can go back to what you were doing.â€™

Max felt about five centimetres tall.

Harrison fixed her with a stern eye.

â€˜Max, what just happened must never happen again. Itâ€™s pleasing to see you are keeping so aware of your surroundings, but a good agent is sure of all their facts. Dretch is as fine and loyal an agent as any Iâ€™ve met. In fact during our last mission together, he saved my wife â€¦ I mean, life.â€™

A tear pricked the corner of Maxâ€™s eye as she realised sheâ€™d gone from hero to sugar-coated idiot in the space of about ten minutes.

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

Steinberger looked at his beeper.

â€˜Itâ€™s Sleek. Heâ€™s got the jet ready for Australia and another pilot to take you home, Ella.â€™

Steinberger saw Ellaâ€™s face fall.

â€˜But maybe you could walk us to the VART and we can say goodbye together?â€™

Ella smiled. â€˜Iâ€™d like that.â€™

Harrison beamed at all three of them. â€˜Your mission is done and Iâ€™m proud of all three of you. Until bed time. Weâ€™ll be in fudge,â€™ he said before wincing and correcting himself. â€˜I mean, until next time. Weâ€™ll be in touch. Au revoir.â€™

On their way to the terracotta ride, Max lagged a little behind the others as she struggled with her extra sweet, toughened layer and her sadness at disappointing Harrison. As she turned a corner towards the elevator, she ran headlong into the sallow features of Dretch.

â€˜I told you to keep out of my way,â€™ he sneered.

â€˜I â€¦ I â€¦â€™ Max stammered as the others moved ahead.

â€˜Iâ€™m not interested in excuses and if you ever try to muddy my name again, you might just find yourself adrift in some gooey mess you wonâ€™t be able to get out of so easily. Just stay away from me, got that?â€™

He disappeared as Steinberger reached the elevator and turned around to see how she was doing.

â€˜You okay, Max?â€™ he asked jovially.

â€˜Sure,â€™ she answered, again feeling the icy chill customary with meeting Dretch. Sheâ€™d really earned his anger in Harrisonâ€™s office and now he hated her even more, but there was something in her that knew he wasnâ€™t telling the whole truth and she was sure going to keep an eye on him next time they met.

After a brief terracotta ride they arrived at the VART, where Sleek had the jet ready and waiting.

Steinberger walked a little slower to stay with a slow-moving Max. He thanked them a million times for their work and recounted over and over again how successful the mission was and what it meant for the world. He told her not to feel bad about Dretch. He was a good guy, not the easiest to get along with, but he wouldnâ€™t hold any grudges about her mistaken conclusion. He spoke so fast it was a wonder his lips could keep up. What he said made her feel better, but suddenly Max wasnâ€™t worried about his lips or what he was saying or about Dretch, she was more concerned about trying to overhear what Linden and Ella were whispering about in front of her.

She missed most of it and what she did hear was all in French.

Why did she spend most of her life looking silly and feeling like she was the odd one out?

When they reached the end of the ramp, it was time for Ella and Steinberger to say goodbye. Sleek, as usual, had the invisible jet prepared for take-off.

â€˜Thereâ€™s a jet there?â€™ Ella exclaimed.

â€˜Sure is, and you should see inside,â€™ Linden answered.

The engine sounded out an eager jet thrust.

â€˜Maybe next time.â€™ Steinberger was well aware of Sleekâ€™s need to keep schedules.

â€˜Max?â€™ Linden asked, hoping sheâ€™d get the hint and move away so he could say a quiet goodbye to Ella.

â€˜Yes?â€™ she said innocently, knowing full well what he wanted.

â€˜Maybe you should get on the jet first. Make yourself comfortable,â€™ he suggested.

â€˜No, Iâ€™ll wait for you,â€™ she offered kindly, not wanting to leave them alone for a second.

All four of them stood in heavy silence as Sleek climbed out of the cabin.

â€˜Everyone ready?â€™ he asked. Then seeing Maxâ€™s sweetened layer, he broke off a piece of toffee and plonked it in his mouth. â€˜We leave in one minute.â€™

Linden and Ella tried to cover their smiles as Sleek climbed back in the jet.

â€˜Bye, Ella. Iâ€™ll call you when we get back to Australia.â€™

â€˜Thatâ€™d be great. Bye, Max.â€™

â€˜Bye,â€™ Max mumbled.

Steinberger hurried them along. â€˜Sleek has been known to leave without any passengers,â€™ he warned.

â€˜Bye, Steinberger. Thanks. For everything,â€™ Max managed through toffee-stiff lips.

Max followed Linden as he climbed into the jet and found his seat. As they buckled up, the hatch closed and they waved goodbye.

â€˜We did it,â€™ said Linden warmly.

Max tried to smile.

â€˜Yeah we did,â€™ she said feeling a little better as the invisible jet taxied out of the VART and carried them away from their first successfully completed Spyforce mission.

â€˜When were you working for Spyforce?â€™ Max and Linden had arrived back on the farm and after a very long bath that dissolved her toffee coating Max was now sitting at the table facing Ben and Eleanor over banana sandwiches and orange juice.

â€˜Most of the time we were in London,â€™ Ben said matter-of-factly, taking another bite out of his sandwich. â€˜In fact, once youâ€™ve been inducted youâ€™re members for life, but I guess Harrison told you that. Theyâ€™ve got great fringe benefit offers too.â€™

â€˜Why didnâ€™t you tell me?â€™

â€˜Theyâ€™re a secret organisation, Max, you know that. We canâ€™t tell anyone.â€™

â€˜Even me?â€™

â€˜Even you,â€™ Ben said, taking a slurp of juice as if he was telling just another everyday story.

Eleanor leant across and held Maxâ€™s hand. â€˜We knew youâ€™d been recruited and that youâ€™d gone to London to be inducted into the Force. We got an email from Spyforce before you left. They are a world class operation and take very good care of their spies. Itâ€™s a good career. As long as in your everyday life you act just like any other kid. Weâ€™re so happy for you.â€™

This was so bizarre. Ben and Eleanor not only knew about their London mission â€” minus the details, of course â€” they were once spies themselves. A few times they were involved in missions, but mostly they worked in the labs.

â€˜Does Mum know?â€™

â€˜No,â€™ Eleanor answered gently, trying to soothe Maxâ€™s shock.

â€˜Another sandwich?â€™ Ben asked, reaching for his third.

â€˜No thanks. I think I might just go to bed.â€™

It was the last day of Maxâ€™s visit to the farm and she was waiting in the front room for her mother. She hadnâ€™t seen much of Linden over the last few days because he was busy helping his father. And also because she was doing her best to avoid him since she was still upset with him for lying to her during the mission.

And for liking Ella more than her.

Trouble was, as she rested her chin on her arms and stared out the window, feeling small in the long, sinking lounge, she missed Linden and was feeling sad that he hadnâ€™t come to say goodbye. She heard the back door slam and Eleanorâ€™s voice drifted down the hall.

â€˜Sheâ€™s in the lounge room packed and ready to break our hearts by leaving us to our quiet lives again.â€™

There was a short moment where Max heard nothing before she turned to see Linden standing next to her.

â€˜How do you do that?â€™ she asked.

â€˜Do what?â€™ he frowned.

â€˜Just turn up behind people?â€™

â€˜Not sure. I guess itâ€™s the angelic side of me kicking in before its time.â€™

Max didnâ€™t smile.

â€˜Can I sit with you until your mum comes?â€™ he asked.

She moved to the end of the lounge, leaving him heaps of room to sit down, then she stared at the carpet in front of her.

There was this annoying silence that sat between them like a stranger.

â€˜Ella called.â€™

Just the name made Max clench her fingers.

â€˜She said Blueâ€™s Foods is being shut down and there are TV reports that a big Japanese firm is going to buy the company and keep making all the favourite foods as they were originally.â€™

Max pretended not to be too interested but was hanging off Lindenâ€™s every word.

â€˜By the time the police reached the factory,â€™ he continued, â€˜all the evidence had been destroyed and Blue had disappeared leaving no trace that he was even connected to the company except for his name.â€™

â€˜They didnâ€™t lock him up?â€™

â€˜Nope. Couldnâ€™t find a trace of him.â€™

â€˜That means it wonâ€™t be long until he plans another scheme.â€™

â€˜Yeah,â€™ Linden agreed, happy Max had started to talk to him.

There was another one of those long silences. Max had so much she wanted to say to Linden but nothing would come out.

â€˜Max,â€™ Linden began uneasily. â€˜I know youâ€™re still mad at me for what I did at Blueâ€™s factory, but I was only doing what I thought best.â€™

Max didnâ€™t budge. Sometimes she could be so stubborn Linden was sure if he looked up the word in the dictionary it would say, â€˜See Maxâ€™.

â€˜Besides. We did it. Our first official Spyforce mission.â€™

No response.

â€˜And I still think we make the best team there is.â€™

Max smiled reluctantly.

â€˜If you hadnâ€™t understood why Iâ€™d winked at you, weâ€™d all have been in big trouble,â€™ he said. And dropping his head a little he added, â€˜And I would have lost a really good friend.â€™

Max smiled even more as she tried to find the words to tell Linden the reason she was angry was because she thought he didnâ€™t care.

â€˜Itâ€™s just that â€”â€™ she was interrupted by the crunch of gravel beneath tyres as her motherâ€™s car drove towards the house.

Great, thought Max. When I want her to arrive she doesnâ€™t and when I want her to stay away sheâ€™s here.

â€˜Thatâ€™s my ride back to paradise,â€™ she joked.

Linden smiled. â€˜When are you coming back?â€™

â€˜Not sure,â€™ she answered, feeling like she wanted to say something nice but couldnâ€™t think what. â€˜Maybe you could come and visit me in the city.â€™

Lindenâ€™s face turned into one of those big smiles that took over his whole body.

â€˜Thatâ€™d be great! You could show me all your favourite places.â€™

The car pulled up in front of the house and the engine was turned off.

â€˜Yeah,â€™ Max said, walking over to pick up her bags.

Linden got up off the lounge and pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, but just as quickly it flung back.

â€˜Itâ€™s good to see youâ€™re back to your normal self.â€™ Max never thought sheâ€™d be so happy to see his uncontrollable hair. â€˜I got worried too that you really meant all those things back there.â€™

â€˜I might think youâ€™re a bit difficult at times but not enough to want to turn you into a giant biscuit.â€™

Max smiled. Linden really did have a way of making things seem okay again.

She heard a car door slam and looked out the window.

â€˜Oh no,â€™ she moaned. â€˜Sheâ€™s brought the kid with her.â€™

â€˜Who?â€™ But before he needed an answer Linden remembered. â€˜Aidan. Letâ€™s watch,â€™ he said, jumping onto the lounge and thinking this should be fun.

â€˜Yeah,â€™ Max gasped excitedly, preparing to watch another awkward family reunion.

After a quick check in the mirror and applying more lipstick and other face goo, Maxâ€™s mum got out of the car, straightened her tight skirt and adjusted her overdone salon hair. The kind where they spend hours making it look like you spent no time on it at all. She giggled and preened herself as Eleanor and Ben said hello and shook hands with Aidan. Ben was holding a well-behaved Ralph on a leash but when Aidan stepped closer, Ben had to hold him back.

â€˜Grrrrr,â€™ Ralph growled.

â€˜Ralph,â€™ Eleanor scolded, â€˜you donâ€™t do that to guests.â€™

Ralph went quiet but they could tell he didnâ€™t like Aidan and was only being good for Eleanor.

Aidan nervously stepped around Ralph and bunged on one of those Hollywood grins that was so fake it looked like heâ€™d been practising it in front of the mirror for weeks.

Again Eleanor did her best to invite them in but after a short desperate look from her mother, Aidan made some smarmy excuse that was so slick Max could just picture them rehearsing the answer in the car. Then there was silence as they could think of nothing else to say.

â€˜Another famous family moment,â€™ said Max.

â€˜These hellos and goodbyes are fun,â€™ Linden cracked. â€˜But then I always have a good time when youâ€™re around.â€™

Max blushed. â€˜Thanks,â€™ she said quietly, feeling the same. â€˜I â€”

â€˜Max, honey? Itâ€™s time to go, sweetie.â€™ Her motherâ€™s timing was terrible as usual.

â€˜Thatâ€™s our cue.â€™ Max got off the lounge and picked up her bags.

Outside there was a stilted series of hellos and â€˜darlingâ€™ pecks on the cheek.

Ben kept a tight hold of Ralph and looked at Max.

â€˜He promised heâ€™d be good this time.â€™

Ralph sat up even taller just to prove it. Max had to admit that was cute.

â€˜Thanks for everything. Can I come back soon?â€™

â€˜Any time you like.â€™ Eleanor folded her up in a big, doona-like hug as Maxâ€™s mother looked on, a hint of jealousy on her face as the hug continued a little longer than she thought necessary.

Ben handed Ralphâ€™s leash to Eleanor and gave Max a hug that was just as warm.

â€˜Donâ€™t take too long about it, thatâ€™s all,â€™ he said, and he scooped her up and twirled her around like she was a rag doll. Max giggled as the farm dipped around her feet.

All the hugging and twirling made Maxâ€™s mother uncomfortable and she tried to hurry things along.

â€˜We should be going then.â€™ Her smile was a mixture of anxiety and muscles trying to keep up a fake smile.

Max turned to Linden. â€˜See ya.â€™

â€˜See ya. Weâ€™ll do it all again soon.â€™ And with that he winked.

Max laughed. â€˜Yeah, letâ€™s do that.â€™

Maxâ€™s mother looked at Aidan, smiling an apology at how long this was taking.

Ben and Linden packed Maxâ€™s bags away and Max opened the back door of the car. Just as she was about to climb in, a crescendo of screeching and a flurry of feathers and dirt burst in front of her. She lost her balance and toppled onto the ground.

Geraldine. Max should have known she wouldnâ€™t get away without a goodbye from her.

â€˜Youâ€™ll get yours,â€™ she warned the chicken as it innocently strutted away.

Eleanor lunged towards Max and helped her up.

â€˜Iâ€™m so sorry, Max. Geraldineâ€™s normally so quiet. Are you okay?â€™

Maxâ€™s mother stood nearby watching Eleanor fuss. She moved in before Max had a chance to say anything and took her out of Eleanorâ€™s arms.

â€˜Of course she is. Arenâ€™t you, sweetie? No use fussing, youâ€™re still alive and weâ€™re late.â€™ She brushed Max down and just as quickly stepped around to the driverâ€™s side and got in the car.

â€˜Thanks, Eleanor. Iâ€™m fine,â€™ Max whispered to her aunt who sheâ€™d miss more than anyone.

Max climbed onto the back seat and Ben closed the door after her. Then they took off in a storm of dust in her motherâ€™s hurry to get back to the city.

â€˜Yeah. Weâ€™ll do it again,â€™ said Max. She leant her head against the window. She was Max Remy Superspy, and she was going to be back.

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When Deborah Abela was a small child, she spent most of her time imagining she was on great adventures all over the world. When she grew older, she bought a backpack and a plane ticket and went on them for real. After three years she came home and then worked at Cheez TV for seven years, before leaving to write novels about a small girl who goes on lots of adventures all over the world.

Deborah grew up in Merrylands, a western suburb of Sydney, but now lives in inner-city Glebe with her partner Todd, who is almost as nice as Linden.

You can read more about Deborah Abela and the Max Remy Superspy series at www.maxremy.com.au

Photograph by Todd Decker

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Donâ€™t miss Deborah Abela and soccer legend Johnny Warrenâ€™s exciting series about soccer, friendship, and kids who want to be their own legends!

*See Max Remy Superspy, In Search of the Time and Space Machine.