The Mysterious Benedict Society mbs-1 Page 10

  “Where’s Constance?” Milligan said.

  “What did I tell you?” Kate said to the boys.

  “We were hoping she’d be here,” said Reynie.

  Milligan looked grim, even more so than usual. “She may have slipped past me in the dark. This complicates things. No time to take you to a safe place — if she’s in the maze we might lose her any second. But I can’t leave you here alone. You’ll have to come down with me.”

  “Into the maze?” Sticky asked. “In the dark?”

  “There’s no help for it. Now grab onto my jacket, Sticky, and you others grab onto him. Whatever you do, stay with me. And Kate, turn off your flashlight. It will only help them find you.”

  “Them?”

  “Yes,” Milligan said. “They’ve come for you. Now don’t speak.”

  None of the children spoke (though two of them gulped), and down into the maze they went. The lights were out here too — they no longer came on when you entered a room. It was perfectly black, and in this perfect blackness they moved, stalking from room to room, until Milligan suddenly froze. The children caught their breath. At first Reynie saw nothing. Then, looking behind him, he glimpsed two flashlight beams passing through one of the other rooms. He squeezed Sticky’s arm. Sticky squeezed back even harder.

  From the direction of the flashlights came a sudden cry of pain — it was Constance’s voice — followed by a thudding sound, as of someone falling to the floor. A man’s voice hissed, “I have her!”

  “Come,” Milligan whispered, hurrying toward the lights. The children followed, holding fast to one another. It was awkward walking so quickly together in the dark, and though Kate moved with the grace of a cat, the boys stumbled trying to keep up. Perhaps they slowed Milligan’s progress too much, for when they entered the room a few moments later, the flashlights were gone. The room lay black and still. It seemed quite empty except for a sharp, spicy fragrance that lingered in the air.

  “I smell your cologne,” Milligan said, speaking into the darkness.

  “I hope you like it,” said a man’s voice. The flashlights snapped on behind them, casting their shadows onto the wall. “Now, please turn around. Turn around very slowly. Let’s all stay nice and calm.”

  Milligan started to turn, but the terrified children, realizing they’d been tricked and not wanting to believe it, clutched at one another and did not move.

  “That’s a little too slow,” said the voice. “Come on now. Let’s have a look at you. Don’t worry, we won’t shine the lights in your eyes. I know that’s uncomfortable.”

  Milligan pressed the children’s shoulders and slowly turned them toward the voice. The man had spoken the truth — the flashlights were pointed downward — and in the glow cast by their beams Reynie could just make out who carried them. He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but it wasn’t this: two handsome men, one of them impressively tall, staring back at him with pleasant, welcoming expressions. The men wore tailored suits and large, expensive-looking silver watches, and over their suits they wore fine long raincoats that dripped water onto the floor. Both smiled in an unexpectedly friendly way. In fact, their bright smiles — along with their elegant appearance — were for an instant so surprising and disarming that Reynie almost relaxed. Almost. But then his eyes fell on a lumpy canvas bag in the shadows behind them. Out of the bag poked one of Constance’s tiny feet.

  “Did you really think we couldn’t hear you coming?” asked the tall man. He spoke cheerfully, as if he and the children were sharing a joke. “Why, you’re a herd of buffalo! Now raise your hands above your heads, please.”

  Reynie was frightened, but he couldn’t see why they should obey. The men seemed to carry no weapons. But Milligan did as the man said — obviously he knew something Reynie didn’t — and so with hearts galloping, Reynie and Kate let go of each other and raised their hands, too. Sticky, however, had grown confused in his fright and would not let go of Milligan’s jacket.

  “Please tell the bald boy to raise his hands,” insisted the tall man.

  “It’s all right, Sticky,” said Milligan. “Do as he says, child. Come now, let go.”

  At last Sticky managed to release his grip. The moment he did so — and to the great surprise of everyone present — Milligan leaped toward an open doorway and vanished from the room. He had moved so quickly, and so unexpectedly, that no one had a moment to react before he was gone. The men looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Reynie felt his mouth go dry. Sticky let out a whimper.

  “Some protector!” laughed the shorter man. “I must say, he did a fine job protecting himself. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”

  The tall man chuckled. “Did he seem familiar to you at all?”

  “Now that you mention it, he did,” said the other, scratching his head. “Though I can’t place how. Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

  “What are you going to do with us?” Kate demanded. Though her legs trembled, her voice was defiant.

  The tall man tucked his flashlight under his arm and held out both hands, palms forward, in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. “Now just stay calm,” he soothed. Meanwhile the shorter man was doing exactly the same thing — tucking away his flashlight and holding out his hands. It was then that Reynie noticed that the men’s huge silver watches were identical, and that for some reason they each wore two — one watch on each wrist.

  “If you children stay nice and still,” said the tall man, flashing a sympathetic smile, “I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”

  “Oh, come on, let’s tell the truth for once,” said the other. “Just for kicks.”

  The tall man rolled his eyes. “All right, the truth is that this will hurt. A lot. But if you hold still,” he said, shaking his arms to clear the watches from his suit cuffs, “I promise it won’t hurt long.”

  Reynie felt Kate and Sticky stiffen beside him. They didn’t know what was coming, but they knew it was going to be awful. The men started laughing again. Reynie heard an electrical hum. . . .

  Abruptly, the laughter ceased. It was interrupted by two odd whistling sounds — swit, swit — upon which the tall man closed his eyes, dropped his flashlight with a clatter, and sank to the floor. The other did exactly the same, slumping unconscious on top of his partner. The flashlights, rolling free, sent their bright beams willy-nilly about the room.

  One of the beams settled on the doorway behind the fallen men, where Milligan now stood holding a tranquilizer gun. He stepped over to pluck two tiny feathered darts from the men’s shoulders, saying as he did so, “Remember, children. For every exit, there is also an entrance.”

  The dining room seemed an altogether different place now. The rain had let up, the drafts were gone, and bright sunlight streamed through the window. Yet the mood in the room was dark. On the table the children’s breakfast lay just as they had left it — only an hour had passed since Reynie asked Milligan for tea and honey — but the teapot and honey jar might well have been props in a play, so unreal and insignificant did they seem now.

  Everyone sat at the table except Constance, who was sitting on the floor. The men in the maze had given Constance quite a shock (an actual shock, delivered by way of wires that flicked like snakes’ tongues from their watches, she’d said), and she remained somewhat addled. Her wispy blond hair stuck out in all directions like a small child’s drawing of a sun, and her eyes seemed to roam about independently of each other. Moments before, she had walked in a circle around her chair — attempting without success to sit in it — then dropped to her bottom on the floor, where she said she believed she would sit for the time being.

  Mr. Benedict was watching her with concern. “Are you sure she’s all right, Rhonda? You examined her carefully?”

  Rhonda nodded. “She’ll feel better soon.”

  “Okay, who were those men?” Kate blurted out.

  “Professional kidnappers,” Mr. Benedict said. “Crafty fellows who work for
the Sender. You’ll recall he uses children to send his messages.”

  “So he captures them?” Kate said.

  “He has subtler methods, too. But some children, yes, he captures. His scouts have an uncanny nose for vulnerable children. Don’t worry, they’ve been deposited far from here and will be unconscious for quite some time, thanks to Milligan.”

  Number Two clucked her tongue. “If only Constance hadn’t gone into the maze. Constance, why on earth did you decide to go down there, anyway?”

  “I didn’t decide to,” Constance snapped. “I was trying to go down to the landing like Mr. Benedict told us to” — the boys looked at Kate, who acknowledged with a shrug that she’d been wrong — “but I tiptoed down one flight of steps too many. Then I heard someone behind me, so I went deeper into the maze to get away. But they found me,” she said with a shiver. “They definitely found me.”

  Number Two patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Connie, you’re safe now.”

  “Don’t call me Connie,” she said crossly. She rose unsteadily from the floor and made another attempt at the chair. This time she managed to climb into it.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Constance,” said Mr. Benedict.

  “But won’t those men come back?” Reynie asked.

  “It’s possible,” Mr. Benedict said. “Which is why we must work quickly. As it is, I’m hoping we can avoid detection long enough to launch our investigation.”

  “And if we can’t?” said Constance, as if she rather expected failure.

  “If we can’t, child, all is lost!” Mr. Benedict cried. Instantly he looked regretful. In a softer tone he said, “I’m sorry to raise my voice. Failure in this instance is an upsetting prospect. Now, please, let me explain. These men intended to take you to a school called the Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened.”

  “I’ve heard of that place,” Reynie said. “Some kids from the orphanage wanted to go there, but Mr. Rutger said it was against policy and wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Doubtless it was, at least against his policy. Aside from being the orphanage director, Mr. Rutger is headmaster of your academy, is he not? I believe he gets paid per student.”

  “Even those with special tutors?” asked Reynie.

  Mr. Benedict gave him a significant look.

  Reynie was indignant. “So that’s why he wouldn’t send me to an advanced school! He wanted me on the academy’s rolls — just out of greed!”

  “It’s possible he thought it was in your best interest,” Mr. Benedict said. “Greed often helps people think of reasons they might not discover on their own. At any rate, it was in your best interest not to go. The Institute will admit any child, but it is particularly fond of orphans and runaways. In fact, as you can see, such children are sometimes taken to the Institute whether they wish to go or not.”

  “The hidden messages are coming from the Institute, aren’t they?” Reynie said.

  “I believe the school was created for that very purpose,” said Mr. Benedict. “Every so often the Sender must have new children, and the Institute receives a steady stream.”

  “I can’t believe the Sender gets away with it,” Sticky said.

  “He’s very cunning, Sticky. The Institute is a highly secretive, well-guarded facility — not the usual thing for a school, you know — yet it enjoys a wonderful reputation. The hidden messages have convinced everyone of the Institute’s great virtue.”

  “There’s an often-repeated phrase in the hidden messages,” Rhonda explained. “Dare not defy the Institute. Obviously it’s a kind of defense mechanism.”

  “Thus the Institute has completely escaped regulation,” Mr. Benedict said. “It operates according to its own rules, without any interference.”

  “That’s outrageous!” Kate exclaimed. “I can’t believe no one goes looking for those kids!”

  “I’m afraid runaways and orphans vanish even more easily than government agents do,” said Mr. Benedict. “Lest you forget, ‘The missing aren’t missing, they’re only departed.’”

  The children looked at one another, appalled.

  “I’m glad Milligan was here to protect us,” Sticky said with a shudder. “The Institute is the last place I’d want to be.”

  At this, Mr. Benedict looked somewhat uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, the scouts won’t carry you to the Institute against your will, it’s true. But to the Institute you must certainly go. You are to be my secret agents.”

  Codes and Histories

  It took Kate Wetherall about three seconds to embrace her new role as a secret agent. While the other children gaped, blinked, and pinched themselves to be sure they weren’t dreaming (actually, Constance pinched Sticky, who yelped and pinched her back) — in short, while the other children were adjusting to the news, Kate was peppering Mr. Benedict with questions: What was their mission to be? Would they need code names? Was it possible to use a somewhat longish code name?

  Mr. Benedict waited until they’d all calmed down. Then he explained their mission: how they were to be admitted to the Institute the following day, how he would draw up all the necessary papers, and how (much to Kate’s disappointment) they would not be required to use code names. They must be themselves, Mr. Benedict said. They would have secrets enough to keep.

  “What are we to do, exactly?” Sticky asked.

  “Exactly what they want you to do,” said Mr. Benedict. “Learn. You must be excellent students. One of the few things we know about the Institute is that certain privileges are granted only to top students. No doubt it is these children the Sender uses to send his hidden messages.”

  “So you’re hoping we’ll gain some secret knowledge,” Reynie said.

  “Indeed. How the Sender’s messages accomplish such profound effects, what the particulars of his plan are — anything you uncover may help us find a way to defeat him.”

  “So that’s it?” Sticky said. “You just want us to be students?”

  “Much more than that,” Mr. Benedict said. “For not only must you learn what they teach, you must also try to learn what they do not teach. Every odd detail, every suspicious aspect of the Institute — any unusual elements at all, you must report to me. You never know what curious tidbit might hold the key to the Sender’s entire plan. Anything you notice may be of use.”

  Kate was rubbing her hands together. “So you want us to sneak around, maybe break into some offices, and —”

  Mr. Benedict shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Kate stopped rubbing her hands. “No?”

  “You must find out all you can,” said Mr. Benedict sternly, “and you must report it to me, but you must take no unnecessary risks. Your mission is dangerous enough as it is.”

  Kate looked crestfallen. The other children looked relieved.

  “Now then,” Mr. Benedict went on, “we must communicate often — and in secret. For this we’ll use Morse code.”

  “Morse code!” Reynie cried, amazed.

  “Nobody uses Morse code anymore,” said Kate.

  “Precisely why it is useful to us,” said Mr. Benedict. “As you may know, the Institute is located on Nomansan Island, which lies in Stonetown Harbor a half mile out. From a hidden position on the mainland shore, we shall constantly watch the island. Every day and every night, at every moment, your signals will be watched for. It will be up to you to choose the safest time. We’ll be ready for it.”

  “But we leave tomorrow, and we don’t even know Morse code!” Constance complained.

  “Actually, I do,” said Sticky. “I can teach you, if you like.”

  Constance stuck her tongue out at him.

  “You’re all quick learners,” said Mr. Benedict. “I have no worries about that. And Constance,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “I advise you to take Sticky up on his offer. For this is an important point I wished to discuss: You are a team now. Whether you always agree is inconsequential, but you must take care of one another, must rely up
on one another in all things. I don’t exaggerate when I say that every one of you is essential to the success of the team, and indeed, to the fate of us all. You must remember that.”

  Constance rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, George Washington, you can teach me that stinky Morse code.”

  “Call me Sticky, please. Just plain Sticky is fine. You don’t even have to use my last name.”

  “When do we begin, George Washington?”

  Sticky scowled. “Don’t call me that!”

  Kate leaned over to Reynie and whispered, “I think we may have more trouble than Mr. Benedict expects.”

  It was suggested the children study Morse code in the dining room, but the afternoon was so beautiful, and the shady courtyard so inviting, they begged to pack lunches and study outside. Mr. Benedict agreed on the condition that no one venture beyond the gate, and that Milligan accompany them. So out they went into the courtyard, where Sticky and Constance now sat on a stone bench under the elm tree, while Kate and Reynie sprawled on the ivy-covered earth nearby. Milligan, disguised as a gray-haired gardener in a straw hat, puttered gloomily about the iron fence, tending to the rose bushes.

  “It’s a simple code,” Sticky was explaining. “It uses dots and dashes — short signals and long signals — to stand for letters and numbers. The letter A, for example, is made with one short signal and one long signal, or a dot and a dash. Here, I’ll show you.” Borrowing Kate’s flashlight (Kate had her bucket with her as always), Sticky turned it on and off again very quickly. “That was the short signal — the dot,” he said. Then he turned it on for a full second. “And that’s the long signal — the dash. Together they make an A, and the other letters are much the same. B is a dash and three dots, C is dash, dot, dash, dot, and so on. It’s all written out right here,” he said, pointing to the charts Mr. Benedict had given them.