• a man that knows the secrets of a persimmon
• “This is extreme right here.”
• the sun, the surf, the primal fiery beauty
• normal human body
• I left my brothers there

Tune in next time part 268                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The list of things you must learn if you want to succeed in a life of espionage is very long, and many of them are various ways of passing information. The pianist’s code, for example. But even more important is the skill of distinguishing the true message from the ruse, which was what the pianist’s code turned out to be this time.

The tart undercurrent of Tesla’s kiss conveyed a hidden meaning, one I might have overlooked if I weren’t a man that knows the secrets of a persimmon. Tesla whispered, “This is extreme right here.” It was unmistakably a signal phrase, and she was waiting for the countersign. Taking the persimmon-tinged mime lipstick out of the equation, the obvious correct response would be, “Because of the sun, the surf, the primal fiery beauty of the volcanoes.” But Tesla didn’t want to hear that. She was listening for me to confirm that I caught that additional flavorful signal, so I had to apply the persimmon factor.

It had been years since I had to do that in the field, and it was taking me a long time. Seconds flew by as she stared into my eyes, waiting. At last I murmured, “To think it was once a normal human body.”

Her smile told me my answer, though tardy, was accurate. She whispered again, a short coded poem that signified a place name. I assumed it was where the sub was headed, and when I puzzled out the coordinates I felt a chill. I hadn’t been to that place in a very long time. Not since I left my brothers there.

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• “I don’t think so.”
• reflection of its luminous rays
• 7983 comparison tests
• in a rapid and nervy voice
• slipped inside

Tune in next time part 272                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jorgensen put two fingers in his mouth and emitted an ear-splitting whistle. William Sausage appeared at the hatch above us and said, “Yes, Captain?”

“Two uniforms for our new recruits.”

Tesla folded her arms, creating a shelf for her impressive bosom. “I don’t think so.”

Jorgensen just laughed and climbed the rope ladder. A minute later two gray bundles dropped through the hatch to land in the festive debris at our feet. Picking one up, I said, “At least it’s not black tights and a striped shirt.”

My uniform unfurled and I discovered that it was worse than mime garb. It was a gunny sack of rough, itchy cloth that would make the wearer sweat under the sun, and would give almost no reflection of its luminous rays. Donning it, I guessed that its designers must have done 7983 comparison tests to find something so demonically uncomfortable.

Tesla sullenly put on her own sack and we climbed the ladder. William Sausage awaited us, with two muscular mimes. “Take them ashore,” he said in his reedy voice.

We clambered topside and then into a rowboat. The beefy mimes made us work the oars while they stared in the kind of silence that only mimes know how to generate. I twisted my neck for a look at our destination. All I could really tell was that it was rocky.

At the dock, we were met by a skinny man wearing a pink bathrobe and white face paint. He waved for us to get out of the rowboat then led the way up the dock, stopping outside a shack. Leaning close, he said, “You’re the last ones to arrive, but there’s still time, if you hurry,” in a rapid and nervy voice. He spun on his heel, knocked elaborately on the door of the shack, and slipped inside.

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• long legs and fierce eyes
• “It’s very interesting.”
• baby gorilla devours her first birthday cake
• Boom.
• and gloves without fingers

Tune in next time part 276                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Carla sank into a fetal ball on the coffee table, with Jove still perched on her back. He plucked his monocle and fogged it with his breath.

“Ahem,” Jupiter said.

“Oh. Right.” Jove snapped his whip again, and Carla backed off the coffee table. Another snap, and she pressed a small button in the carpet. The table flipped over, disappearing under the floor as another piece of furniture rose to replace it. The new object was possibly a bizarre chair, or maybe just a sculpture. What it most resembled was a bat with long legs and fierce eyes.

“Do you like the altar?” Jupiter asked.

Tesla spoke calmly. “It’s very interesting.”

Jupiter scowled down at us. “I haven’t felt so unappreciated for my genius since Jove barely cracked a smile when I showed him ‘baby gorilla devours her first birthday cake.’ That was hysterically funny, but you’d never guess from his stoic reaction.”

“Stoic? You’re embroidering.” Jove snapped his whip twice, and Carla turned so he faced Jupiter. “And, the video clip of a baby gorilla is hysterically funny, but your dance interpretation of it is merely odd. Boom. There. I said it.”

“Why must we squabble? Especially at a time as important as this?” Jupiter bowed deeply from atop his clown.

“Don’t fret. Brothers without squabbles are like Martinis without olives and gloves without fingers.”

“Déclassé?”

“Exactly. And, now that the altar is prepared…”

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