Sometimes, the hardest thing in the world can be making a decision.............. RHYME & REASON By Michael Demcio Part VI-Choices. Part 1 of 5 The fedora lay at her feet, though she was not even aware that she had dropped it. Chip was nowhere in sight. Somewhere above her within the room, a series of high intensity lights suddenly flared to life, partially blinding her for the moment. As her vision adjusted, what she had just begun to glimpse within the shadows of the room, now became even more frighteningly, *terrifyingly* clear. "Hello my dear Gadget." Ivana's voice cooed almost affectionately from the speakers above her, "*Welcome, home*." Still Gadget stared at the sight, unmoving, barely even able to bring to her mind a single thought. "Well?" Ivana cooed once more from the speakers after a moment, her voice pressing, as a tone of curiosity was evident within it. "Don't you like it? I went through *so* much trouble to set all this up just for you." "*Oh, no*." Gadget whispered in a barely audible voice, her heart sinking within her. She couldn't believe her eyes. Spread out before her a dozen feet ahead within what appeared to be an immense storeroom, was indeed what Ivana had called "home". At least a part of it. It was her old home actually which Ivana spoke of, within the discarded airplane at the airport junkyard. The portion of it that Ivana had recreated here had not been one of her favorite parts of the house. In fact, in her memory of her old home it was the part she liked the least, in spite of the fact that it was a part that she herself had created. This part was the series of traps that she had built within the plane near the cockpit, meant for any pesky salesmen who came calling after her father had died. There had been dozens of traps, almost too many to keep track of. Some harmless, some deadly, the range of them ran the gamut from simple items like weighted nets and plungers, along with plunger darts, to the more lethal end of the spectrum with flame throwers, a full size safe, a wrecking ball, and an axe or two, as well as harpoon guns, swords, darts and various sized knives. Everything but the kitchen sink had been in that setup since she was still using it at the time. Although seemingly an extremely overboard method of a deterrent, it had certainly served its purpose to her satisfaction back then when she had wanted to be alone. No one had dared to cross the "minefield" that activated the traps until that fateful day when Monterey Jack had arrived with Zipper, Chip and Dale.| All of the traps were here, at least as far as she could see. However, this frighteningly foreboding sight was inconsequential to what met her sight at the other end of the traps. Upon a tall platform out of the "minefield" which had been in the cockpit of the old plane, two more traps were visible. These traps though, were not the last two in which she had caught and confronted Chip, Dale, Monterey and Zipper. Those seemed to be the only traps missing. The traps that had replaced them here had never been in her setup and were also different from the others, in that *someone was already caught within each of them*. To the right side of the stage, the trap consisted of a wrecking ball suspended from the ceiling, high above the platform. Beneath it, looking nervously at her from within its shadow, a figure lay face up upon the platform, held there by heavy metal clamps which were locked over his arms. This figure was *Sparky*, a good friend of hers who she had first met via a case involving Professor Nimnul.{} Even after he had moved to M.I.T. to participate in lab experiments with his partner Buzz, he and Gadget still exchanged letters frequently and to this day remained quite close. On the left, about a foot away upon the same stage stood the other trap. It consisted of a very deep, mouse sized dunking tank, identical to the ones used where players tried to hit a target with a ball, sending a person sitting on the spring loaded platform into the water. Upon this platform was a sight even more horrifying than the sight of Sparky in deadly peril. For upon the platform was.........*a coffin*. Before the headstone lying atop it hung a magnifying glass, allowing her from her distance to read the name upon it. The coffin was that of ..............her late father, *Gewgaw Hackwrench*. Now her father's last resting place which had once been nestled peacefully beside a beautiful tree near the airport, lay there upon the platform like some comic player upon a carnival's fairground. "What...." Gadget began to say in a near whisper, her voice quickly rising with each word until reaching a furious crescendo of pitch, "........have you...*DONE*?!!!" she screamed, staring at the sight. Her hands clenched tight into fists at her sides, the expression upon her face spoke of her mixed emotions between astounded shock, painful sorrow, and livid rage. "Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! *Calm* yourself my dear Gadget!" Ivana said soothingly. "There's a perfectly good reason why I've arranged this little display." Pausing momentarily, she continued. "It all concerns why I've led you here in the first place, for I've led you here to offer you a choice or two. Hopefully a little business proposition can be arranged." Now Gadget couldn't believe her ears. Her mouth dropped open as she felt the depths of her shock surpassing what it had been mere seconds ago. Turning an incredulous expression up at the speakers where Ivana's voice echoed all around her, she fairly growled her response, pointing to each piece of evidence to emphasize her words. "You desecrated my father's resting place, you have one of my closest friends about to be crushed, you may already have killed Chip, you've been tormenting and torturing the rest of us for hours......and you want to make me A BUSINESS DEAL?!" "Exactly." Ivana said simply. Blinking up at the speaker, Gadget was dumbfounded by Ivana's casual response. /She's *crazy*!/ she thought, shaking her head. Closing her eyes and clearing her thoughts, she took in a deep breath. After a moment or two of thought, she began to calm down. Staring at Sparky's pleading gaze to help him, Gadget knew she could do nothing but to stand where she was. If this was an exact recreation of her salesman traps, then she knew that she could get through it with virtually no problem. Even after all this time of having left her old home, she still felt she had the layout of the triggers memorized. However, knowing Ivana and her penchant for ruthlessness, if she didn't listen to this "proposition" but simply delved into the minefield to try to get Sparky and her father out of their predicaments, then Ivana would simply trip the traps anyway. With a sigh, she hung her head. "What's this all about?" she asked with a disgusted and tired edge to her voice, pointing toward the traps. "And what have you done with Chip? Is he somewhere in here?" she added a moment later, picking up his hat. "Allow me to explain." Ivana continued, "As you can see, I've recreated your salesman traps using the very same items which I took from your old airplane home." "So?" Gadget asked with a shrug. "So?!" Ivana cried in a shocked tone. "Have you every really *appreciated* your own genius? The setup and most of the choices of weapons are brilliant! I could hardly have done better with a trap myself, i-" "What's your point?!" Gadget asked curtly with exasperation, cutting her off. She didn't appreciate Ivana holding her in the same league as herself, even if it was for ingenuity. Now, looking as if for the first time at the vast assortment of lethal items which she had put into the trap's configuration, she stood there in shock at *herself*, wondering and doubting at the extent of her sanity when she had built the thing. True that her motivation for building the device had been based a great deal on- "I know you had a *very good reason* for building them in the first place, Gadget." Ivana said, her tone of voice returning to its sinister, derisive tone once more. "That being because-" "Don't *talk* about that!" Gadget snapped, tensing. "You obviously know, so *please*,. just leave it at that." she added a moment later, her voice sounding pained. She knows just what buttons to push. she thought with a shudder. "You watch what you say, and I *might* watch what I say." Ivana stated venomously. "I don't like being cut off, especially when I'm being generous." /Easy, Gadget! *Ea-sy*!/ Gadget repeated in her mind, struggling to keep from snidely replying to Ivana's comment of "generous." "As I was saying Gadget," Ivana continued, "I admire your handiwork. You have a very definite flair when it comes to inventing, *especially* when it comes to weapons. Like the time you attacked Bubbles and his henchmice in the cola cult? Those invention weapons had style!" ".........Thank you." Gadget mumbled, a bad taste forming in her mouth at the words. She didn't really know what else to say, as she had resisted the urge to tell Ivana to get to the point once more. "You're welcome." Ivana stated graciously. So in appreciation of your creativity, I'm prepared to make you an offer. Would you like to hear it?" /I don't think I have a choice!/ Gadget commented to herself. "One question." she asked curiously. "Yes?" "If you had been planning all along to give me this offer," Gadget asked, "Then why did you trick me and the others into that aquarium full of ice water? If I had drowned, you never would have been able to get me here now." Ivana scoffed at the remark. "Oh my dear Gadget," she stated as if she were a teacher speaking to a student. "You *do* underrate your abilities! Despite what I said at the time, that ice water bath was simply for the purpose of making certain that you and your friends were fully awake for the coming game. I knew you would find the only way out that I had left. You are a after all, a genius like me." /Why do I feel like *berating* myself?/ Gadget wondered wryly, feeling disgusted as well at Ivana's boasting. She sighed inwardly, her heart aching as Sparky continued to look desperately at her. /Might as well get this over with./ she thought. She knew that whatever Ivana was about to offer her, it wasn't going to be good. "So what are these "choices" you have for me?" she asked apprehensively. "It's really quite simple." Ivana said. "In exchange for your safe return from this building, as well as the safe return of your father and Sparky, all you have to do is to lure your friends into this room in the dark,.........and allow your traps to annihilate them. I will give you a way to avoid being caught within the traps as well." "What?!" Gadget cried, once more not believing her ears. "The bomb would finish you all off eventually it's true," Ivana stated with a bored tone to her voice, continuing as if she had not heard the tone of Gadget's incredulous outburst, "for it's impossible that all of you could have found Chip *and* found your way out of here before time ran out. The only problem is that such a death has no originality, again, no *style* to it. To have your friends meet their end as they almost did once before, at the hand of your homemade traps though......Ah! Now that would be style! The *irony* would be simply *delicious*! Like history coming full circle. Don't you see, my dear Gadget?" Ivana stated, her voice now a throaty whisper that sounded as if she were trying to tempt the young inventor. "I've seen how you acted on cases where your ire was truly aroused." Bubbles?> Baby Thadius?>> All those others? I've seen how ruthless you can be! And looking at these traps as well? I'd say that your penchant for violence is about as capable as mine! Why not put that talent to work for you now? Save yourself as well as your dearly departed father and Sparky! "You're *crazy*!" Gadget shouted, not caring now what Ivana might say to upset her. "I would *never* desert my friends or do something that could hurt them, let alone kill them! They're my family now as much as my father was!" "Come now, Gadget." Ivana soothed, continuing with her tempting tone. "Better for some of you to escape than for *all* of you to perish. For escape from here *is* virtually impossible!" "*Nothing's* impossible!" Gadget cried. "Besides the fact that I know I could never trust you to keep your end of a deal, not that I'm saying that I would ever even *think* of accepting such an offer, I don't even believe that really *is* my father up there! You've tricked us before with disguises. That's probably just an empty wooden box! A box that looks just like the coffin I made for my father and with his headstone, yes, but a fake one all the same!" During the moment that she had cleared her head to think, she had recalled how Ivana had tricked them with someone disguised as Desa'rae Delure and had disguised Dale as an enemy as well a little while back. This had led her to her conclusion about "her father's coffin". Sparky though, was another story for she couldn't figure out a reason why Ivana would put anyone but the real Sparky in such mortal danger. "Very well." Ivana replied after an angered and impatient sigh. "You've made your decision, your first choice, so this now brings you to your second choice. Namely who *might* you be able to save?" she asked, her voice chillingly cold and dark. "*Might*?" Gadget asked as though caught by surprise. She looked from the speakers back toward the platform. "These traps of yours have a dual use. If you won't lead your friends to hazard their way through them.....*you will hazard them*." Ivana replied. "You'll have all of ten seconds to get past them to the platform.....if you survive." she said, pausing significantly, "If you reach the top of the platform before I set off the traps there anyway, a pressure sensitive trigger hidden there will activate them automatically. You'll only have time to save *one* of them. I know you're quite fond of saying that's nothing's impossible Gadget," Ivana stated, her voice a deadly grumble. "but here I have found something that's definitely impossible, for you haven't the time to save both of them. You'll have only four seconds to reach Sparky, free him from his bonds and pull him out of the wrecking ball's path, or four seconds to stop the digital timer which will release your father's coffin into the dunking tank-" "I *told* you I don't *believe* that's my father up there, you *psychopath*!" Gadget yelled, challenging her. "The dunking tank is filled the most corrosive acid known to science." Ivana continued undaunted, her voice sounding more lethal now than the acid she was describing. "It will doubtless eat through that wooden coffin like tissue paper, as well as what's inside it...........Oh and by the way," she continued after a thoughtful sigh, a cruelly humorous note now entering into her voice, "only because I feel it *might* get you to reconsider my previous offer, though it would spoil the delicious joke it would have made when you would have found out eventually, I feel it only fair to tell you that you *might* be right. Although I can guarantee you that the coffin is not empty as you say, you are right that it *might* not be your father in there after all.......Have you considered though, that the person in there might be *Chip*?!" she leered. "Though whether he's alive or not I won't tell you. You did after all, insult me, calling me *crazy* and all......So who will you choose, Gadget?" she asked tauntingly, "Whose life do you value more? Who do you love more as a friend? Chip or Sparky? Or do you value a *friend's* life above the memory of your father? You'll remember that I haven't said that it wasn't your father in there after all. Who do you value more Gadget? What will you choose?" she asked, and with these next words, a spotlight now shown down from above upon each of the traps on the platform, emphasizing symbolically each of her words, "*Life?....or *Death*?" After yet another pause, the tone of her next words clearly communicated that though perhaps premature in its execution, she was nonetheless immensely enjoying Gadget's reaction to her little "joke". "You have one minute to reconsider or to begin the game. If you do not let me know before time runs out, the traps will be sprung...... Fifty nine...." she began to count "fifty eight...." Gasping as Ivana mentioned that Chip might be the one in the trap, Gadget now turned her full attention to the coffin on the platform, now realizing the possible significance of Chip's hat being here, with him being nowhere in sight. She *hadn't* considered that possibility, though such an ironic trick was *definitely* within Ivana's sick sense of humor, she realized. "Oh, no!" she whispered, pressing her hands to her lips. Moments before, her choice had been clear. Believing the coffin to be empty, the only logical option had been to save Sparky. Now though, she was completely torn between the choices. She and Chip had just begun developing a relationship with each other that went beyond their normal bond of friendship as "family" and teammates. Was her stirrings of love for him more important than Sparky's life? On the other hand, Sparky had been dragged into this completely as an innocent bystander. Ivana's revenge was against the Rescue Rangers for whatever reason she had. Sparky was just being used as a pawn in this game. Did the life of a innocent bystander as well as a friend take precedence over Chip's? She wouldn't even consider the first option, that of betraying her friends. She knew Chip and Sparky well enough that they would never want their lives to be spared at the expense of others, especially those of their closest friends. The same held true for her. She would rather die first than to let her friends come to harm. As Ivana continued with her emotionally tearing questions, she grew more and more confused, a definite choice less and less clear as she shifted her gaze rapidly back and forth between the two traps on the platform. The countdown began. /Chip? Dad? Sparky?/ she thought. How could she choose? *How*? What if that really was her father in there? she considered. She cherished her father's memory dearly and she didn't know what it would do to her to lose him again in this way. To never visit him again? The thought was practically unbearable as well. "Twenty eight......twenty seven.......twenty six......." Ivana continued to count down. /How can I choose?/ Gadget thought, frantically, desperately. Whatever I do, I'm going to lose someone I care about! Her throat tightening with emotional anguish, her mind began to cloud. She could barely even think anymore. How can I- "Three.....tw-" "I've decided." Gadget stated finally in a defeated voice. "And?" Ivana pressed. Taking a deep breath and straightening, Gadget stepped up to the beginning of the mat which covered the triggers for the traps. "I'd never take the first choice." she said defiantly with an air of pride. "Hmmph." Ivana mumbled, clearly disappointed. "Very well. If I can't destroy you through trying to have you go against your own sense of morality and dignity, I'll destroy you this way.....*Either* way, my vendetta against the others and especially against *you* will be carried out! This score *will* be settled!" she snarled. "*Me*?!" Gadget cried, clearly surprised once more as she looked up at the speaker. "Why m-" "*Go*!" Ivana snapped. The lights went out. Though clearly taken aback by Ivana's comment, Gadget was even moreso stunned by the sudden absence of lights which now caused her to hesitate. After being used to seeing for that short time with those intensely bright lights, the sudden darkness was now completely overwhelming. Not even the dimmed emergency lights from the hallway outside brought any illumination to her vision. She couldn't see a single thing, not that she had any time to worry about such matters. /Get going!/ she commanded herself, sprinting forward. At least a half second had passed while she had stood there in the dark. A half second more than she was sure she could afford. She wasn't sure just how long it took to cross the "minefield" at a run. Monterey had been the only one who had ever attempted it. She could only hope that she could make it in the nine seconds or so she believed she had left. However, while Monterey, Chip, Dale and Zipper had made it across part of the "minefield" without upsetting the traps, they had at least been able to see where some of the triggers were. She had only her memory to work from, and her memory had been developed upon *walking* through, not *running through*. One misstep or miscalculation would spell certain disaster. For even if the trap she tripped was not lethal, it would certainly be lethal to Sparky and whoever else was on that platform. They would both be utterly destroyed from the time such a setback would cost her. Part 2 of 5 Jumping where she thought she should jump, and dodging when she thought she should dodge, she put everything she had into her run, using an equal amount of memory and instinct to guide her. To her astonishment, she only tripped a slight handful of the traps, while she found that her speed was thankfully more than enough to carry her safely past them. As one of the swords stabbed down close behind her, and the sound of a score of plunger darts whizzed around her, she could feel that she was almost to the platform and she wondered what she would do when she got there. For she still hadn't decided. Each choice was a decision too painful too make, with consequences that would be too painful to live with. She also knew if she couldn't make her decision moments before, she didn't even try to come to one now. Not when all her concentration was centered upon simply *getting* to the platform. A few more traps were tripped, the heat from the flame thrower singed her hair, and at last she arrived at the platform, bouncing hard off it's surface to the floor. "Five....." Ivana began to count down again, "four....." Recovering herself immediately, she reached out to either side of her, feeling for the electrical cord which she suspected to be close by. She had lined herself up with it upon first stepping up to the "minefield" trigger mat, since it would be the shortest route to get upon the platform. Her right hand found the cord first and grabbing it, she raced up the cord toward the top of the platform. /*Who do I choose*?/ she wondered frantically once again, her mind now racing. /*And how do I find them*?/ "One....." Gaining the top of the platform, Gadget shielded her eyes as the intense lighting flared to life once more around her. /*Four seconds*!/ she thought wildly, forcing her dazzled eyes open against the brightness. Flashing her gaze to the left and the right, seeing that each trap was equally distant from her position, she knew in that fraction of a second she had no more time to think................*and finally arrived at her decision*. Instantly breaking to the right, she sprang forward to where Sparky lay, knowing that doom was falling from above even as she acted. Her hands flying to the metal clamps that were fastened about his wrists, binding them to the floor, she dug her fingers into the pair simultaneously and with a vicious pull, unlocked them both. Grabbing Sparky's wrists she hauled him up onto his feet. In the same fluid motion of helping Sparky up, she pivoted slightly, and turning her head.......threw them both from the platform onto the mat below. In that instant before she threw them from the platform, she had picked out a place on the mat that was relatively clear of triggers, to guarantee that they hadn't just thrown themselves out of the frying pan and into the fire. A second later, their ears were assaulted with a splintering crash as the wrecking ball smashed its way through where Sparky had lain a moment before, continuing on its downward course until it rebounded off of the floor below the platform. As she landed upon the "minefield"'s trigger mat with Sparky, Gadget couldn't help but be aware of the violently hissing and churning sound behind her. The one that told of the dunking tank's platform dropping its concealed but precious cargo into the corrosive acid. Her heart ached with the sound. Looking around toward the platform once more with a painful yearning, she looked back to see Sparky rolling over to his side, trying to get to his feet. /First thing's first./ she thought grimly, swiftly diving on top of Sparky and pinning him to the floor as she bound his wrists together with her tail, holding them down with one hand. As Sparky looked at her in complete shock, unable to understand or to express his surprise at her actions, Gadget ripped open the white lab coat that he always wore and began to dig her fingers in upon the fur around his chest, neck and face, her eyes sternly focused. After a moment's examination with Sparky's expression growing more and more wild and frightened, Gadget finally visibly relaxed. /Either this person had plastic surgery and fur grafts, or this *is* really Sparky./ she thought finally, having seen no hidden sign of a mask's edge or any makeup. Releasing his hands and sliding off of his chest, she helped Sparky to his feet once more. As Sparky removed the piece of tape that had gagged his mouth, he was about to speak, a question evident upon his face, but Gadget held him silent with a sorrowful look, hanging her head and placing a gentle hand upon his chest. Taking him by the hand, she led him cautiously the half foot or so forward to the small area right before the platform that was completely clear of triggers. Turning, Gadget left Sparky standing where he was as she ascended the electrical cord to the platform once more. Slowly, painfully, as Sparky watched her sympathetically from below, she approached the dunking tank. Watching the swirling mists for a few seconds that now floated above it from the acid's work a moment ago, her breath coming in slight hitches, she finally stepped up to the tank's edge and looked into the liquid within. There was nothing left inside but the clear acid. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes tightly and turned away from the tank. /I-I'd better go....and try to find the others./ she thought with a heavy heart, choking down the emotions that were now welling within her from the choice she had made. She would try to deal with this later when it wasn't so fresh in her mind. Right now, she knew couldn't afford to fall apart. Not when her friends were somewhere out there, counting on her to help them all escape from this place. Descending back down from the platform, she approached Sparky who now wore an expression of sorrow as well as sympathy for the pain she knew she couldn't hide from her face. Taking his hand, she began to lead him carefully back across the "minefield". Clearing the trigger mat, and releasing Sparky's hand, Gadget stopped for a moment as she closed her eyes. Bending over, she carefully picked up Chip's fedora which she had left there. Unable to look at it, she handed the fedora behind her to Sparky who uncomfortably held it in his hands for a moment before finally holding it at his side away from where Gadget was. Standing, Gadget turned back to him, her eyes still lowered. "Come on." She whispered finally, with something close to a steady voice as she drew in a shuddering breath. "The others might need us." She began to turn toward the doorway. "A moment, my dear Gadget." Ivana's voice called out. "You forgot your prize for beating the game" As Gadget and Sparky looked up, alert but unsure of what to expect, a glint of light suddenly caught their eyes as something tumbled down from the darkness of the high ceiling. As the objects landed at their feet, Gadget gasped as she recognized one of them, picking the pair up. One of the objects was a medallion, similar with it's attached ribbon to an Olympic medal. The medallion had been a first place award which her father had won in the one of the most highly acclaimed air races in the world among animal aviators. Being one of, if not the best pilot of his time, her father had won many others like it, but as this particular medal had been for his very first, first place win, she knew it had held a special place of pride in his heart. Knowing this, after her father had died, she had affectionately placed this single medallion once more around his neck when she had buried him. With tears beginning to well within her eyes, she separated the medallion's ribbon from the other object it had been tied to. "Chip would have wanted you to have this." Ivana stated in a straightforward tone as Gadget did so. The object was a mouse sized Christmas card, but not one that she could recall of having received before, as she kept the ones that she had been given as mementos. While still choked up from the significance of the medallion, Gadget still found the strength to open the beautiful looking card and to read it. It was dated for this coming Christmas, and as Ivana had said, it was from Chip. In it, with picturesque sentences that came out as melodious as the most beautiful poetry, the card expressed the extent of his love for her as well as his deep admiration. Everything that he had thought and felt about her, everything that he dreamed and wished was told to her upon the lines within. True she had known for some time that he was attracted to her, but this! /*But this*!/ she thought, the tears now flowing freely as she finished the card she hadn't been able to stop reading, in spite of the pain it now brought. "*You* make the choice as to who was in there." Ivana stated in an accusing tone. As Gadget stood unmoving, staring at the card and the medal in her hands, Sparky was about to move to comfort her when Monterey Jack, Dale and Zipper abruptly dashed into the room. Barely even noticing Sparky who stood by her side, Monterey's face held a joyous grin as he drew himself up behind Gadget. "Oh Gadget luv!" he exclaimed with extreme relief as he saw her standing there. "Thank goodness you're..............all right?" he finished in an uncertain whisper, seeing the tears rolling down her agonized face as she turned toward him. "Gadget?" he asked softly. She fell sobbing into his arms. * * * 2:50.......... Within the cold and darkened reaches of one of the city's art museums, the leader of the Rescue Rangers stood. His back pressed against the pedestal of the towering statue of Hercules, a look of imminent peril spread over his face at the sight above him. Moments before,......while seated upon the foot of the statue of Hercules, he'd been reading over the latest message clue. One of the many clues left to him by Ivana thus far, in the warped game she'd devised where the Rangers were unwilling participants. Upon the latest message paper left to him he'd read these words: "Find a sandwich and remove the bread, and what you'll have in it's stead, is what's most known about history, and the very next place in this mystery." In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Chip just couldn't help himself as a half smile curled his lips, a curious, bemused expression spreading over his face as he read the odd notice. The smile quickly faded though, as his eye fell upon something at the bottom of the paper. An arrow. Made up of three lightning bolts and pointing to the side of the paper, Chip flipped the paper over, a chill running through him as he suspected what the symbol was a prelude to: namely Ivana's by now deadly trademark punchlines. Glancing at the flip side of the paper, he read this short sentence: "Like these statues, a stationary figure can become "perm"anently still.........." Kicking backwards, Chip hurled himself off of the statue even as the room lit up around him in a flash of light, the place where he'd been sitting an instant ago exploding into chunks of stone, as a lightning bolt tore into the statue's foot from above. Twisting around as he fell in an effort to land upon his feet, Chip only half succeeded as he landed on his side upon the hard stone floor. Unfortunately, that very side happened to be the one that had been injured earlier in Ivana's attack upon a public library. Crying out, stars danced before his eyes as various sized chunks of the blasted statue began to rain down upon and around him. Gritting his teeth against the combined pain and without waiting for his vision to clear, he quickly rolled himself onto his hands and knees and pushed himself back onto his feet. Crouching thus for a split second, he then hurled himself backward once more, this time his back hitting against the base of the statue a foot away as another lightning bolt flashed past him, once again ripping into the place he'd yet been occupying an instant ago. As the new bolt now tore into the floor in front of him, Chip once again forced himself to his feet and fumbled his way behind the base of the statue, using the smooth stone beneath his fingertips to guide him as his vision slowly cleared. As the corner of the statue came beneath his touch, he stopped, and as his vision came into focus once more, he carefully snuck a peek around the corner of the stone pedestal. His look was answered by yet another lightning bolt flashing at him, annihilating a portion of the corner part of the pedestal. Ducking back around the corner ahead of the bolt, Chip flattened himself back against the stone. As the massive energy burst ended, he quickly snuck another peek around the corner and caught sight of what he was looking for before yet another bolt had a chance to leap out at him. Though he could not clearly see what was firing at him due to his position and the darkness, he didn't have to see it to know what he was up against. It was the lightning and ice gun that used to be a part of Professor Nimnul's mobile weather machine.* It seemed to be mounted upon a camera near the ceiling over "Zeus'" head. /How appropriate,/ he wryly conceded, /considering Zeus's ability to "throw" lightning bolts!/ The last he had seen of that machine was after that battle in the bank, when the Rangers had left it behind along with a half frozen Professor Nimnul for the police to pick up(*). The "punchline" had been referring to the hairdryers taken from a beauty salon which the Rangers had used to help defeat him. For all he knew, the weather device had been taken to some evidence room along with all of the other devices of Nimnul's that had been captured from previous skirmishes with the Rangers. That is, until Ivana had somehow gotten her hands on it. /She's mixing cases *together* now. Why?/ Chip pondered to himself as a series of bolts began to pound into the body of the statue this time, sending a small shower of pebbles raining down on him. As he had realized before, the locations that Ivana was sending him to for clues, had to do with cases from his team's past. The art museum he was in, had to do with a case involving the former head gangster in town, Ignatso Ratskiwatski.** Professor Nimnul had been involved in that case, or more precisely one of his inventions-the gigantico gun-had. Why Ivana was using a weapon of Nimnul's was easy to figure, considering her M.O. Why she was using a weapon of Nimnul's from a different case entirely, wasn't. He knew that although it had been a bit bent in some places, the Gigantico gun had been recovered from the wreckage of Ratskiwatski's mansion, still intact and operational. The forensics lab report he'd seen had confirmed it. Though it had been partially dismantled for safe storage in the evidence room as he knew the same had been done with many of Nimnul's devices...../Why couldn't Ivana have just stolen it, reconstructed it, and made use of it to shrink me out of existence? If she wants to beat me in the game, why not use any means possible? She's certainly ruthless enough for that./ It didn't make sense, but at any rate he would have to ponder it later. Right now he realized, he had to get himself to safety so he could get back on the trail to his friends. He knew he couldn't stay behind the statue much longer. Another few strikes with the kind of force the lightning gun was putting out, and he knew the whole thing would fall right on top of him. /Well, it shouldn't be too hard to dodge those bolts and make my way out of here./ he thought to himself, taking a breath. /Even with my injuries./ Readying himself, he was about to make a break from the statue when his ears caught a very familiar sound. In fact, a multitude of that same very familiar sound. The loudly droning sound of whirling propellers........... Recognizing the sound instantly, he pivoted, pressing his back once more against the stone block. Swinging his gaze to both the left and right, he hoped with a sinking feeling that his ears were playing tricks on him. They weren't. A squadron of five toy planes, exact in type to the one that Buffy Ratskiwatski had nearly killed him in**, came into his field of vision and were now swooping fiercely through the air, a few dozen feet away. Looking to his right, another five toy planes were circling through the air at the same distance as well. "Oh boy." Chip whispered in trepidation, sizing up the situation. He gulped. /I guess she didn't shrink me because she wanted to have more *fun* getting rid of me! I wonder if this is what she meant by a "sandwich"?/ he wondered worriedly as pebbles from the pummeled statue continued to rain down around him. Suddenly, just as he began to wonder why none of the planes were moving to attack him, another toy aircraft appeared to his right, flying separately from the formation and making a beeline for the body of the statue...... * * * A look of imminent peril spreading across his face, Chip sprinted forward in a mad dash for his life, hoping he could get clear. The charge that the plane was loaded down with exploded upon impact, finishing the job that the lightning had begun of destroying the statue. Although successfully dodging the hurtling fragments of stone as he ran, Chip realized that all bets were now off from getting out of the room let alone the museum, easily. For as the blast subsided, the planes were immediately in pursuit of him, their propellers buzzing madly. Between dodging the lightning's gun's blasts, hoping that it didn't hit and detonate any of the planes near him, all of Chip's agility was pushed to the limit as he dove under and over the divebombing planes in an acrobatic dogfight that quickly began to tire him out. He could not hide behind any of the other statues, the planes just chased him out into the open again. He could not even begin to get near the exiting doorways to the room, as the attacking planes constantly blocked his path. Playing this deadly game of dodge for close to a minute, nearly getting cut to ribbons many times by the collective propellers of the toy planes, Chip tried to ignore the strain of his injuries as he tried to piece together a coherent train of thought. /I gotta..../ "Yikes!" he exclaimed, getting singed once again in a close strike by the lightning gun,/.....gotta figure some way *out* of this! Those planes won't let me leave-/ "Woah!" he shouted, dodging another plane, here, /...but if I don't, either those things or that gun is gonna-/ "Yow!" he cried out, a propeller just barely missing his head, ....*puff!*.... /..gonna turn me extra crispy or chop me to bits! Is there any way-/ he wondered, stopping to dive over one low flying plane and dodge another /-that I could get control of that gun?/ It seemed almost impossible. The camera upon which it was mounted was situated a short distance above the head of the statue of Zeus. He could theoretically climb the statue to take control of the gun, but the statues were extremely slippery to climb. He would probably get annihilated by the exploding planes or the gun before he even made it halfway up to the top of the carving. /I don't-/ he thought frantically, dodging once more,/...see what choice I have. *I'm out of options*!/ Skirting another statue in his dodging, he pivoted toward the Zeus statue and was about to attempt the almost suicidal plan when by chance he happened to observe something. Ducking another lightning bolt, the sizzling beam blasted into the base of the statue behind him. Breaking off the corner of the base, the smallish chunk fell to the floor and began a haphazard skip/roll to a few feet away. Now many feet away from the damaged statue, Chip watched as the plane nearest to the fallen fragment suddenly veered away from its pack and made a nosedive toward the still rolling fragment, slamming into it and exploding upon impact with the floor. Covering his eyes from the shooting stone chips, Chip rolled with the force of the explosion. Part 3 of 5 Recovering himself as the planes regained their equilibrium as well and continued the chase, Chip immediately saw the significance of the event....and a possible way out. /Of course!/ he thought now with a ray of hope. /That chunk of stone was pretty much my size! These planes must be locked onto me, or anything near my size through some kind of motion detection field in this room! It doesn't explain that first plane, but if I can fool the rest of these planes with a few more "lookalikes", I can get out of here!/ Clinging to that hope, Chip immediately put his new plan into action. The destroyed statue of Hercules had many suitable "lookalikes" laying upon it's sizable base and around the floor. Sprinting toward the ruined statue, he jumped upon the pedestal, continuing to dodge the planes and the lightning blasts, and began to roll a suitable fragment toward the edge of the base. Timing himself so that he was clear of any planes for that short moment that the lightning gun was charging between blasts, he swiftly swiped out a foot, kicking the fragment off the base. /Now-/ he thought, simultaneously diving off of the base and behind the stone block to where the lighting gun couldn't reach him. /-comes the hard part. *Doing nothing*. Time to see if I was right and whether my timing's on the money./ For the moment, he was safe from the lightning gun, but he knew the planes could still pick him off. As he hunkered behind the statue's base, stock still and very aware of the four planes converging fast upon him, he could not see the fragment that he'd kicked off, bouncing away across the floor, nor of the two planes nearest to it which changed course toward it. All he could do was hope.......... As the simultaneous explosion of the two planes rocked the room, the wind from the intense blast knocking the rest of the planes for a brief loop, Chip grinned with elation, not knowing since when he'd heard a more beautiful sound. "Yes!" he shouted, his hands covering his ears. /I was right! Just a few more diversions like that and I'm home free!/ The explosion having bought him a second from the planes nearest to him, Chip jumped atop the statue's base once more, rushing to find another "lookalike" to repeat the process. Five tiring performances later of this same trick,..........*and the planes were no more*. /Now to take care of that gun./ he thought with a vengeful air of satisfaction, as he began to dodge its bolts for the final time. /If there's a guard here, he surely alerted the police after all this commotion, but even though I think that's gun's attuned to me as well, I don't want to take any chances./ As he ran into the next room full of statues, crossing through the doorway, the lightning gun abruptly stopped firing as if it sensed that its target was no longer present. Turning around, Chip withdrew a handmade sling from one his main jacket pockets, and taking a small metal ball bearing out from another pocket, he loaded it into the sling. Whipping the sling around like a propeller and taking careful aim, he let the bearing fly. Whipping through the air, the bearing smacked itself against the antennae like ending of the gun, breaking it off. Stepping carefully through the doorway into the room, Chip watched as the lighting gun once more swiveled toward his position, preparing to fire. However, without the antennae ending to focus the gun's discharge, all the machine could do now was to shoot showers of electric streams in every direction in the air, none of them even coming close to the ground. Hastily leaving a note of the gun's whereabouts upon the destroyed statue for the police to find, Chip quickly withdrew himself from the room to a more deserted part of the museum to try and ponder the latest clue.......... 2:57...... Aware of the sounds of the police bustling about upon the floor above him, Chip sat against a wall in a room full of paintings, his mind's eye turned inward. This latest clue that Ivana had given him was proving to be quite as puzzling as the rest he'd encountered thus far. He hadn't expected it to be so hard though, what with the almost ridiculous way that it sounded, but with a begrudging thought of acknowledgement, he remembered that deception was quickly proving to be Ivana's stock in trade. /Sandwich.....sandwich...../ he thought, trying to pull some connection together between the words and the clues he'd come across thus far upstairs. The rhyme had mentioned "sandwich" and "bread". He'd immediately discounted the idea of the verse referring to a clue he could find in the museum's cafeteria downstairs. Although Ivana had tricked him earlier with an easy clue which he almost hadn't deciphered since he'd made it harder than it was, he didn't think that was the case here. Reason being was that Ivana had not used the same trick twice thus far. /Still,/ he considered, /if I don't come up with anything else in the next few minutes, I'll go downstairs to check it out anyway./ "Bread." he murmured, a few moments later. /Could the word have to do with the *money* for admissions that the museum took in every day? He shrugged inwardly. It's worth a shot./ he decided. Getting up, he made his way to a wall map of the museum and finding where the director/curator's office was located, he began to hurry his way there. /After all,/ he thought, /the curator would be the one to handle the funds, so there should be a vault in the office. The only thing I *still* can't figure out,/ he wondered, /is what "history" has to do with all this. I mean, sure this is a museum, but what's the connection to the next location?/ Reaching the curators office, he removed his grappling rope from his jacket and cast it upward around the door handle. Deftly climbing up to the doorknob and picking the lock, he hung from the knob to turn it with his weight and pushed against the doorframe to swing the door open. Sliding back down the rope and entering the room, he found the vault he suspected to be there, underneath the enormous desk in the expansive room. Cracking the vault's lock and opening the heavy steel door a crack to jam it open with a great deal of difficulty, Chip stepped into the safe and withdrawing his penlight, began an examination of its contents. Three minutes later, Chip stepped back out of the safe, closed its door and locked it, disappointed at having found nothing as far as clues. Stepping back out into the hallway, he began to pull the door to the office closed, preparing to head towards the cafeteria's location which he'd memorized before from the map as well. Listening reflexively, he was still able to pick up the busy sounds and voices of the police echoing through the hallways in the otherwise still museum. His mind turning once more back to his near demise at the cleverly orchestrated deathtrap upstairs, a picture formed in his mind again of the exploding planes and the lightning gun over the statue of Zeus........He stopped. /Hold on./ He thought. /Cupid, Mercury, Zeus, and Hercules were the four statues that she planted clues on. The statue of Zeus, which along with Mercury, was *between* the other statues! Mercury and Zeus were *sandwiched* in between them in the sequence!/ Steadily following this thought, the rest of the first part of the rhyme seemed to fall into place. /If you removed the "bread", you'd only have Mercury and Zeus. Only what do they have in common?/ Pondering a moment further, he quickly came up with a possible answer. /What was Zeus most known for? Leadership, strength,.....and the ability to throw lightning bolts. What about Mercury? Well he was known for his speed and as a messenger. A messenger...........*Messages*? *Electric or electronic* messages? *E-mail*?!/ he wondered, the hidden answer to the meaning of this rhyme certainly seeming up Ivana's alley. It makes sense! he pondered with certainly, pushing the door open once more. Although there were many offices in the museum with computers, and surely most or all of them had e-mail, he knew that the curator's computer was the most likely spot to look for a clue. Reason being that as Mercury delivered messages to the chief or the *director* of sorts of the gods, then any message or clue he might find through e-mail, would as well turn up going to the director or *chief* of the museum*. Turning on the computer, he brought up a menu of what online systems that the computer was connected to. Finding two, he picked one and lacking a codeword, he began to hack his way into the system. Finally breaking through a few minutes later, he brought up the e-mail that was waiting for the director. There were three pieces. Reading through each short piece, he could find nothing of consequence. All of them seemed to be related to museum business. Logging off the first system, he began to hack his way into the second system. Finally breaking through, he brought up the second batch of e-mail, of which there were eight pieces this time. Seven of them were again directly related to museum business. The next to last one though, he wasn't sure of. All that was contained in the "letter" was a name: *Sally Briggs*. The sender of the letter however, was what really interested him, since the name of the sender was "written" in what appeared to be the Cyrillic alphabet. /Five letter name.../ he pondered, wondering if his suspicions were correct. Finding a translation table for the Cyrillic alphabet in the system, he quickly matched up the characters to where they would be in the Roman alphabet. "Ivana" he murmured, his brow darkening at the name, despite his satisfaction at finding the needed clue. /Now what about the rest of the rhy-/ he began to wonder, abruptly smacking himself on the head in disgust. /Oh, brother! I *must* be getting tired! I had the rest of the rhyme figured out long before! Very clever Ivana./ he sneered, /Very clever./ Searching out a public phone book in the office, he hurried to locate the telephone number for "The Cutting's edge" store he had been at before. Finding it, he wrote down the name in the e-mail "letter", and getting off the online system, he brought up the computer's modem menu on screen, using it to call the store. Getting the connection, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew!" /It looks like that acid shower *didn't* damage the store's computer enough for me to contact it./ he thought. Hacking into the store's ordering and inventory sections, he arrived at the area for *floral delivery*. /What's most known about history,/ he remembered, /is that history *repeats* itself. And what's repeating itself here, is what I had realized before. The occurrence of the Roman god *Mercury*, was also in "The Cutting's Edge", as their symbol for floral delivery..........*and here she is*!/ Chip grinned as he reached the right order form which featured Sally Briggs as the recipient of the order. Then, looking at another part of the order, his jaw dropped slightly in shock. "I don't believe it!" he said, staring at the screen. /Ivana put *my name* down as the sender of the flowers!/ Burying his face in his hand for a moment in mild embarrassment at the joke, Chip then proceeded to copy down the address that the flowers had been sent to. Jumping down from the terminal, he raced out of the room and up the numerous flights of stairs to the top floor of the museum. Cutting a hole in the window of the direction he wanted to head, he slipped outside and began to unfold the glider paper from his pocket, a thought occurring to him as was about to take off. /Considering that Ivana is most probably an animal,/ he wondered, /I wonder how she communicated the order to the florist? I guess she could have e-mailed it?/ with that he shrugged, taking off and heading South towards his next destination. 3:20...... As his latest destination came into sight, Chip stared at the building, remembering when he'd been there last. Although it had been for only a short while, he knew it was unlikely that he would ever forget this place. /*Nimnul*/ he thought, realizing the connection that Ivana was making with this latest location and one of their previous cases, /*and the modemizor*.@/ Moreso than just a connection like with the museum before, this building had been one of the actual sites upon a previous case his team had been on. The one which led to the escapade where Zipper and Professor Nimnul had switched heads, followed many hours later by the same technical glitch in the modemizor that caused all of the Rangers to swap their heads for one another's bodies. That was one case and experience he knew he would never forget. Landing upon the window ledge of the second floor, he folded his plane back up and peered inside. The office that he had landed outside of, was occupied by only two people, both of which were thankfully engaged in conversation at the far end of the room, theirs backs turned toward the window he was at. Cutting a suitable hole for himself upon the pane, he slipped through to the inside, all without a sound. Jumping down from the windowsill, he stealthily made his way past the conversing pair to the doorway. Before slipping through though, he paused a moment, hiding behind a nearby wastebasket to read the woman's name tag, worn upon the lapel of her jacket. Seeing that it did not bear the name of the woman which Ivana had left for him, he quickly moved on. "Say Rich," the woman who's name Chip had read as "Kim" asked, her eyebrow shooting up questioningly at that moment, "is it my imagination,...or do you smell *hot dogs*?" Catching the comment as he entered the hallway, Chip smacked his hand over his eyes, blushing beet red in embarrassment. /How long is that scent going to be sticking to me?!/ he wondered with exasperation. /If it keeps up like this, I can kiss the element of surprise goodbye, once I find Ivana's hideout! She'll be able to smell me coming from a mile away!/ Groaning, he moved onto the next occupied room to begin his search. He hadn't known that much about the building's business that fateful night some time ago, simply because the Rangers hadn't searched but a few rooms when Nimnul had disappeared with Zipper. He had at least found out though that the company was heavily involved in technology. Now however, moving from room to room throughout the hallway, he saw that the company was that of a telecommunication conglomerate, involved in every sort of technology that seemed to be available concerning the field. From computers and telephones, to videophones, faxes, satellites and other such items, awards and advertisements of awards were in abundance throughout the hallways and rooms, proclaiming the company's leading edge in the industry. /*No wonder* Nimnul decided to steal technology from here./ Chip pondered to himself, casting a glance over the tributes as he came across them, his mind wandering momentarily back to that night long ago. Moving about the floor didn't prove to be all that easy, and it was hardly in part due to his constantly twinging injuries which caused him to wince every so often. They were one of the least of his worries. The reason was that unlike the museum which had been deserted save for a guard who's presence he hadn't even been sure of, people in this building were far from scarce. As the awards proclaimed the company success, so too did the amount of people who were working there seem to say it, as the entire level was packed with employees. Although it made concealing himself from sight relatively easy among such a crowd of feet, Chip was kept constantly on his toes, trying to read the name tags of every woman he came across, as well as trying to keep from being stepped on. However, like his injuries, that was the least of his problems. Glancing at a nearby wall clock, the first time he'd gotten the chance to check the time since checking it on the director's computer, he realized how quickly the minutes were slipping away and shivered. /How many more clues do I have to go, he wondered, and do I have enough time to get through them all to find everyone before time runs out?/ In addition to worrying about the amount of time he had left in relation to his quest, another concern was already plaguing his mind. That being the safety of the humans around him. Like he'd seen at the library hours before, he was certain that with whatever deathtrap Ivana had planned for him here, she didn't care if any humans were in the way of the line of fire. Moving from room to room, he set aside the idea of using the fire alarms mounted in each room as a means for evacuating the building. They were a moot solution at worst, and a temporary one at best. For not only were they hard to get at with the people constantly walking past them, but moreover, the problem was thus: First, although an entire building was supposed to be evacuated in the event of a fire, if he tripped the fire alarm, the sensor box, located somewhere in the building, would instantly tell which box had been tripped. If someone went to check on the "fire's" location or called someone else in that location and the false alarm was found, the evacuation would be terminated most probably before it had barely begun. Secondly, even if he managed to find an alarm in a deserted room and the alarm was not questioned so that out of procedure, the evacuation was carried out, there was still a problem. For if he did not find his clue and waiting trap before the fire department showed up and signaled "all clear", the humans would soon be back in the building and possibly in grave danger. Moreover, even going to check the alarm out, some firefighters might get caught in the deathtrap as well. Even having one person in peril when it didn't concern them, did not appeal to him. These were the reasons he had not simply tripped the alarm back at Cranston Tower...../but I don't know if that "Mad Bomber" note'll work again here like it did there./ he thought. There were no kitchens here as there were at Cranston Tower. A building directory in the hallway had told him that much. Unsure of how to attract attention to such a note as cleverly as he had at Cranston Tower by using their kitchens, he began to ponder what other options he had to get the people here to safety while he continued his search. He hoped he could come up with a solution soon. Obtaining a vantage point upon one of the lab tables, desks or computer terminals within each room in addition to scouting the name tags, Chip looked intently about for some sign of the flowers that he knew were delivered here, hoping they would point him in the right direction. /At least I don't have to scout out the whole building..../ he considered thankfully, /....I hope./ he amended to himself a moment later. The order form in he computerized records in "The Cutting's Edge", had said that the flowers were supposed to be delivered to Sally Briggs on this level, so he hoped he would find her fairly quickly. That is if she hadn't left this level for whatever reason. Trying to block out the enormous amount of noise that was generated within each room from the equipment and the conversing employees, he proceeded systematically down the hallway to the next room. Part 4 of 5 It was within the room after the next one down the hall, that Chip finally found something that he was looking for. Climbing atop a computer workstation, he had begun once again to scan the room and nearby name tags when his eyes caught sight of a floral arrangement upon a desk around the middle of the room. Jumping back to the floor, he hurried over to the nearby desk and climbed atop it. Reading the card which came with the flowers, Chip grimaced, feeling his anger rising within him again. From the order form he had accessed, he knew that this was indeed the order that had been sent to Sally Briggs. However, there was more to this group of plants than met the eye, for as he turned from the card which read: "*Enjoy the flowers. They look their best when buried alongside a Maplewood*.", he realized now, looking at the arrangement with new eyes, that the flowers were yet another morbid pun that Ivana was making toward him, for Maplewood was his last name. Made up of Crocuses, Tulips and Daisies, each flower was also of a type most associated symbolically with a with a burial plot. /Pushing up Daisies./ Chip thought sardonically, with a grimace at one of the macabre jokes. Checking the flowers and their container over thoroughly for any other clues, but finding none, he stepped back from the arrangement and considered his next move. /Well the flowers are here,/ he wondered turning his attention away from the flowers to the women in the room, /but where's Sally Briggs? Moreover, what's her connection to all this?/ He was about to leave the desk to commence checking the different name tags, when his attention was caught by a brightly colored "stick on" note that had been placed onto the middle of the desk. It's message was simple: "Mark" it read, "if any more strange and unexpected deliveries come for me, let me know. I'll be setting up the new equipment"."New equipment?" he mumbled to himself, "Uh-oh." /That could mean that she isn't even on this floor!/ he thought worriedly to himself. /Still,/ he considered, collecting his thoughts and calming himself, /there's no way of telling what time this message was written and since the flowers had been delivered this morning, it's possible that she's already done with this work, so she might still be on this floor after all./ Continuing with his systematic check of the name tags in the room since it was the only course of action he could think of, he proceeded on again to the next room along the hall, the last one on this hallway. It was upon the forth room after turning the corner onto the new hallway though, that he hit paydirt. Within the immense, unfurnished, windowless room which was at least the size of a school cafeteria, rows upon rows of tower computers sat on the floor, waiting to be attended to. Within the middle of this massive amount of technology, a lone woman lay on her side upon the floor in her lab coat, her head and hands enveloped within the open computer before her, as she attempted to install a circuitry card within it. As Chip slipped into the room, the thick metal door creaking open before him, the woman withdrew herself from the computer and turned at the sound. Seeing no-one there, she got up off the floor with an slightly exasperated sigh and walked around the consoles towards the open door. "Now who left *this* open?" she mumbled, sticking her head out into the hallway to look around. Seeing no-one, she shrugged and closed the door behind her, returning to her previous spot. Suddenly she stopped. "Now why in the world am I smelling hot dogs?" she asked aloud, shrugging after a moment. "Hmph. Must've wafted in from the hallway." Unseen to her, Chip blushed a deep red once more, burying his head in his hand. As the petite and attractive, brunette haired woman walked past the computer he was hiding behind, Chip was able to spy the name tag attached to her coat. /Well Sally Briggs, I've finally found you./ Chip thought to himself as he watched her slip into the computer's inner workings once more. /*This...*/ he considered while taking in a breath to summon up his courage, /*is gonna be tricky*!/ Stealthily, he began to move from computer to computer, drawing ever nearer to her position. As Ivana had not given him any lead to follow other than this woman's name, he could only suppose that somehow, in some way, the clue that Ivana had meant for him to find had been planted somehow upon her person. Trying to search a total stranger for clues was not a situation that Chip felt comfortable with in the least, especially a woman stranger. /I hope she likes rodents!/ he gulped, now only a few inches away from her. He was poised to try and jump into her lab coat pocket, hoping that what he needed to find wasn't in another pocket or elsewhere upon her before she rooted him out, when a sudden knock startled them both. Darting behind the computer the woman was working on as she drew herself out of it again, Chip tried to catch his breath as she got up to answer the door. "Hi Mark." Sally said to a man outside the door that Chip could not quite see from his angle. "What's up?" "Another strange delivery for you, what else?" the man answered flippantly, extending his arm inside the doorway. "*A pizza*?" Sally asked in surprise, taking the box held upon her friend's outstretched hand. "...Someone sent me a pizza? You know I was *kidding* about expecting any more strange deliveries." she grinned sidelong at him as if expecting a joke. "*You* bought this for me, right?" "No joke Sal." Mark replied as Chip listened attentively to the conversation, "Came in just a few minutes ago, all paid for and everything. The delivery boy has no idea who sent it. His dispatcher never told him" "Well I'm not eating something from someone I never heard from before!" Sally asserted, handing the box back through the doorway. "Someone might have *put* something in it! Could you throw it out for me?" she asked as Chip gasped in horror, fearing that an important clue was about to get thrown down a garbage chute. "Sorry Sal," Mark replied, his voice beginning to grow fainter as he disappeared down the hallway. "but I'm already due in the dust free room to start testing the new chips. I'll see you later, okay?" "Okay." Sally replied with a slight pout to her voice, leaning through the doorway to wave at her friend before turning back inside the room. The pizza box still balanced in one hand, she closed the door behind her. "I'm so far behind in setting up this teleconferencing network," she grumbled, "I don't even have time to throw out a lousy pizza." Walking back to her work area, she was about to throw the box on the floor out of her way, when she stood there for a moment, contemplating it. "I wonder who could have sent it?" she considered aloud, "And those flowers? Well, if I have some kind of secret admirer or something," she said to herself as she fumbled to open the box with one hand, "lets see if he at least knows what kind of pizza I like." Slicing open the tape on the box with a fingernail, she lifted up the cover as Chip watched her in quiet desperation, still hoping that the woman wasn't about to inadvertently destroy some precious lead that he needed. The cover opened wide......and immediately the woman reacted. Her eyes widening like saucers in an expression of horrific shock, she started, and immediately began to tremble violently. A series of high pitched squeaking noises that Chip took to be what she could issue of a scream, emanated from her mouth. After barely a second of this behavior, the woman's eyes rolled up into her head as she fell limply toward the floor in a faint, dropping the box. Racing forward to open the cover of the pizza box which had now fallen closed, Chip saw what had spooked the woman so badly. Laying upon the plastic disk which normally held the box off of the pizza, the "legs" of the disk having been broken off to accommodate him, lay a small brown furred Guinea Pig, who was a bit bigger than Chip. "*Buzz*?!" Chip exclaimed in surprise and fear, recognizing the small rodent who had been an unknowing accomplice of Professor Nimnul's in a case sometime ago. In that case, Nimnul had used Buzz as the "Brain" of a giant robot Guinea Pig that he had built, using it to burrow underground into banks to rob them. In his "reflexively conditioned" to almost hypnotized state, Buzz had been unaware until the Ranger's coincidental intervention, that he and his lab partner Sparky had been helping Nimnul in crime{}. Now, to all appearances as he lay unmoving upon the disk, his eyes closed, Chip feared that he might be dead. Quickly checking his vital signs, he breathed a grateful sigh of relief as he realized that this friendly one time acquaintance of his was merely unconscious. Looking around at the pizza that Buzz was laying on, sliced raw potatoes had been placed as the topping, serving as well, Chip now realized, as another reference to a previous case that had involved Professor Nimnul. One where he had attempted to bake the entire national potato crop for that year as revenge for his outlandish potato baking invention being ridiculed by the industry.<> Hefting Buzz up in his arms, he carried him out of the steaming pizza box. Laying him onto the cold tile floor, he began to lightly slap him on each side of his face, attempting to wake him up. "Come on Buzz, come on!" he coaxed him in a gentle voice, hoping that he didn't need anything as strong as smelling salts to rouse him, seeing that he didn't have any. Gradually, after a few seconds of this treatment, the unconscious Guinea Pig began to stir at last. "Oooh. Wha?" Buzz mumbled, as Chip helped him up into a sitting position. Rubbing his eyes, he stared squinting slightly at Chip for a few moments, looking as if he was trying to get his vision to focus, as well as trying to place the face of the person before him. "Chip?" he said at last as a look of confused recognition came into his eyes. "Yeah Buzz, it's me." Chip smiled back at him. "Are you all right?" "I'm not sure." Buzz replied, rubbing his head. "Where am I? This isn't my lab room at MIT." he stated, looking around him. "The last thing I remember is going to sleep in my cage. How'd I get here?" "You came here in a pizza box, and I'm afraid you're not in MIT anymore." Chip stated matter of factly, getting up from his knees. "Look, rest up for a moment. I'll be right with you." Seeing that Buzz was for the most part all right, Chip dashed over to the unconscious Sally Briggs who lay sprawled out on the floor. Checking her vital signs, he checked as well for any signs of a concussion. Seeing that she was more or less all right as well, he quickly returned to Buzz. "You say that the last thing you remember is falling asleep in your cage?" he asked. "Yup." Buzz nodded back at him. "Why? What's this all about?" he wondered, looking at Chip curiously. Turning away from Buzz for the moment, Chip considered the problem. /I'm not sure if this is a pattern I should be following, but Ivana's mixing cases again, and again all of the cases involved Nimnul! I'll have to consider if there's a connection, but right now there's a few more immediate concerns./ In the case that Buzz was involved in, he was preconditioned to carry out certain actions in the presence of a stimulus, namely *a bell*. /Could Ivana have expanded on that premise here? Could she somehow have hidden the next rhyme clue in his mind through preconditioning, with a stimulus holding the key to having him repeat it? Could it be a bell like last time?/ he wondered. Holding the idea as a distinct possibility, Chip considered something else as well for another moment before turning his attention back to Buzz. "It's kinda complicated Buzz, and I'll explain what I can, but first, let me check a few things out." Chip said, smiling at Buzz reassuringly as he trotted back to the pizza box. Checking the pizza and its box both over and under thoroughly for any hidden clues, when it turned up dry, he turned his gaze toward the unconscious Sally Briggs once more. /Good a time as any./ he thought as he moved toward her. /Guess she's afraid of rodents./ he smirked, remembering her vivid reaction while feeling sorry for her as well. /Guess it's just as well that Buzz caused her to faint. It makes my job *a lot* easier./ For the next minute or so, Chip silently inspected Sally's form from head to toe, discretely looking for any concealed messages on her hair or outer clothing that could have been placed on her. As this search turned up empty as well, he crouched upon the floor near Sally's foot, thinking about his next course of action. /The only lead that's left to check is Buzz,/ he thought, /and he's not even wearing any clothes like he was last time, that I could check. That means that unless I'm issing some other connection, then Ivana had to have planted the next hyme in his mind like I thought before. Only how do I get it out? I could try hitting the fire alarm. Its bell should work, but if I'm wrong about the stimulus, then Buzz'll take off after it, and I'm going to waste precious time chasing him! Is there something else that I've overlooked?/ Pondering a moment, he let his gaze wander around the room from the computers, to Sally Briggs, to Buzz and the pizza box....Snapping his fingers, his eyes lit up as an idea hit him. /The other "strange delivery"! The flowers!/ he thought excitedly. Just like Ivana's done before. A clue that works two ways or *a clue within a clue*! Monterey works close to the same way that Buzz did with reflexive or preconditioned responses, that is with him and cheese! Maybe the stimulus is *scent* this time instead of sound!/ Sprinting toward the doorway, he called hurriedly toward Buzz over his shoulder. "Listen Buzz. I just have to go get something. Stay here and keep an eye on her would you?" he finished as he reached the doorway, pointing toward Sally Briggs. "Sure." Buzz said agreeably with a shrug, smiling though a confused look was evident on his face. "Gonna be long?" "Nope. I'll only be a minute or so." Chip replied reassuringly, smiling at him before casting his climbing rope around the doorknob. "Oh, and don't eat that pizza." he warned him as an afterthought. "I think someone tainted it." Opening the door and making his way back to the room which had held the flowers, Chip bit one of each flower off halfway up the stem. Carefully slipping back out of the room, cautious not to be seen as always, he returned to the room he had left Buzz in a few minutes before, the three flowers in tow. "Do me a little favor here, Buzz." Chip asked the Guinea pig, crouching next to him who was now sitting curiously near the face of Sally Briggs, watching her. "Smell this for me." he said, extending a tulip. "Why?" Buzz asked curiously, in his ever amiable manner. "*Please*, Buzz." Chip said, an urgently pressing tone in his voice. "It's important. It's for a case that I'm on." "Well, okay," Buzz shrugged again, "but you still haven't told me what this is all about." "I will." Chip said reassuringly, lying through his teeth as he watched Buzz smell the flower. He knew he couldn't very well tell Buzz how they were both involved in this case. It was against Ivana's rules of the "game" and the lives of his friends hung on those rules. At the moment though, his mind was too anxious to make up a plausible sounding fib either. His only hope was that he could stall Buzz's questions long enough to find the needed clue and promise that he'd tell him later. As Buzz smelled the Tulip, Chip watched him for any sign of a reflexive action. There was none. "Now try this one." Chip said, holding out a Daisy. Smelling it, still no reaction appeared upon Buzz's face. Now even more anxious, staring at the last flower as if his he could will it to work some magic on Buzz, he extended the Crocus. "Now this one." As Buzz smelled the last flower, Chip felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his face falling slightly in disappointment as still no reaction was elicited. Maybe it *was* the bell I need. Chip wondered, looking from the flowers to the fire alarm box on the far opposite wall. Wait a minute! he thought, looking back to the flowers again. Three cases,.... *three flowers*! Holding the three flowers together before the Guinea Pig, just as Buzz was about to speak, he said with an almost pleading grin on his face, "Now smell all three at once." Holding his tongue, Buzz obliged him once more as the placed his nose against the three grouped flowers, trying to take in as much of each scent as possible. This time, a reaction was strikingly evident. His eyes glazing over as though hypnotized or asleep, Buzz sat bolt upright and began to speak in a far away monotone. "What all matter does, within its own site, will show you how a long ago flight, will lead to the clue that waits for you there, but to break this next code, your chances are rare." Finishing his memorized message, Buzz blinked once, shook his head, and looked at Chip in confusion. "I think I blanked out there for a second.....Were you saying something?" he asked him. Chip smiled back at his befuddled friend, feeling sorry for his confusion and at his being used as a pawn in this game. "Nope, not a thing." he said. "Maybe you'd better lay back down for a little bit. You did blank out there for a moment. You might not be over what you were knocked out with." Laying the flowers aside, as Buzz heeded his advice, Chip stood and began a slow walk about the room, pondering the rhyme. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?" Buzz pressed once more. "Someone's..............." Chip began, diverting his mind to think up an excuse. "poisoning pizzas in the area and putting unconscious rodents in them as a trademark." Chip said hurriedly, blushing out of Buzz's sight even as he said it. Oh, brother! I'm better at making up stupid sounding, unbelievable excuses than Dale is! he thought with embarrassment. "And this is *complicated*?" Buzz said, a confused and slightly sarcastic tone to his voice. "It would be if I explained everything involved." Chip stated with sincerity. "But right now I can't. I have to finish figuring out a clue I just picked up." "Can I help?" Buzz asked eagerly. "Thanks, Buzz," Chip said, turning toward him, knowing that his help or anyone else's was one of the last things he needed right now. "but I've just about got it figured out. I might need your help in a little bit though." It was obvious after the library, that Ivana was definitely keeping track of him somehow to make sure he played by the rules of the "game". For instance, tailing him and reading his lips in places he'd conversed, such as at the library, and probably using hidden cameras and microphones in places like this. Ivana was calling the shots on this caper. He couldn't afford to tell *anyone anything*. He would gladly have told Buzz to leave and meet him back at the treehouse, but as he didn't have a definite location yet for the next stop of the game, more messages might be hidden in Buzz's mind that he might need to access. Messages that this present rhyme might be leading to the catalyst for. Taking out the rhyme notes that he had collected from various places throughout this adventure thus far, Chip unfolded the old notes and pretended to pour over them, uttering contemplative noises to make Buzz think he already had everything almost wrapped up. "Mmmhmm!" he uttered, looking at the notes as he paced and began to ponder what Buzz had said. /Now to figure this out./ he thought. /What all matter does, within it's own site? Matter?/ "Ah, right!" he uttered nodding his head at another note as he continued his ruse. I'm no science expert, but I do know at least a few things about physics and chemistry. "And that's what that means...." Time to recall what I do know, and hopefully I'll be able to figure it out. Continuing with his reflective utterances every so often so Buzz wouldn't disturb him, he tried to recall a few scientific facts. /Matter comes in three forms, solid, liquid and gaseous.....A liquid and gaseous type matter will take the shape of their container...........*but what else*? Matter is made up of energy, and energy can't be created or destroyed....no ideas there...It *takes energy* to move matter,...no...*hold on*./ he pondered, as something began to nag at the back of his mind. /Takes...takes....he thought, repeating the word over in his mind, something about it ringing a bell. What is it about that word? Matter takes...it takes....takes...../ Bowing his head forward, Chip's squeezed his eyes shut, all his concentration turned inward as his muscles tensed. He had even stopped speaking now to deceive Buzz as he struggled to grasp what he could feel his mind was reaching for. Clenching one hand into a fist and placing the other hand against his head, he continued to repeat the word, as it became almost a chant. /Takes, takes, takes, *taaaakeeessssss*......../ "Chip?" Buzz asked uncertainly in concern as he watched him, thinking that something was wrong. Seconds later, with a flash of recollection, Chip's eyes flew open, his mind grasping the elusive fact at last. /It takes up space! Of course! All matter *takes up space*! *That's* what it does "within its own site"!/ With the first fact, the rest of the rhyme fell into place along with it. The rhyme was referring to when the Rangers had flown the Space Plane back from orbit. It was one of the Ranger's first cases about a year and half ago, when while going to watch a space launch, he and Dale had ended up as accidental passengers on the Space Plane. After being rescued from starving to death in a jettisoned space suit by Gadget, Monterey and Zipper, the entire team consequently ended up rescuing the astronauts of the Space Plane when it had developed a major oxygen leak.+ /So if the rhyme was talking about the Space Plane and the oxygen leak....../ His gaze traveling upward toward the ceiling many feet above him, Chip looked upon the only source of oxygen for the entire windowless room, a large air vent that was situated in the wall at the side of the room he was on. "I'm okay, Buzz." Chip said absently, looking at the grill upon the air vent. Running over to stand beneath the metal grill, Chip cast the hook of his grappling rope upward to catch upon it. Climbing up quickly to the grill, he easily slipped inbetween the large spaces of the metal slats. Trying to move within the duct though, proved to be a challenge. For with the amount of air being pushed through the system into the room beyond, it was like trying to walk against the wind on the most blustery of days or nights. Being also quite dark within the vent system, even with the amount of light filtering into the metal duct from the room beyond, Chip activated his mini-penlight. Sweeping it's beam around the walls, floor and ceiling of the space, he began his search, looking for any sign of the rhyme clue that he suspected would be there. Part 5 of 5 Traveling slowly further into the ductwork, the pumped air howling against his ears and eyes, his carefully scrutinizing gaze at last picked up something around two feet beyond the grill. A small, almost indiscernible line was illuminated by the penlight's beam upon the wall of the duct. Stepping over to it, Chip ran his finger along it, discovering the line to be the rhyme paper that had been fastened with an adhesive of some sort and painted the exact same shade of the metal, blending in almost perfectly. Removing the paper from its secured position, he turned it over so that its unpainted side, the side with the lengthy message upon it, now faced him. However, trying to read the message was another task entirely, worse than finding it had been. For even with his back to the onrushing air, with his left hand holding the constantly flapping message, and his right hand attempting to illuminate it with the penlight, there seemed to be no way to keep the paper steady enough to read. Finally, making his way back to the grill cover, he flattened the message against two of the slats, using the wind to his advantage to keep it in place. For the moment, most of the message was unnecessary to read. All he was interested in at the moment was whether there was any............."Punchline." Chip whispered in dread anticipation, spotting it in its usual location near the bottom of the page. "If you haven't liked the game we've been playing so far, Chipper," the message read, "perhaps you'd prefer a little game of cat and mouse.......or should I say cat and *chipmunk*?" Hurriedly pulling the message off of the grillwork, Chip worked his way back out of the duct as quickly as he could, practically throwing himself between the metal slats. He had barely begun to get through though, before the roaring sound of a rocket's backwash suddenly began to echo deafiningly off of the metal walls. Diving off of the grillwork, he caught onto his rope, feeling its friction burning against his hands as he slid down it out of control, barely managing to stop himself before crashing into the floor. "Chip!" Buzz cried excitedly, running over to him as he witnessed Chip's haphazard and none too graceful exit. Barely had Chip landed though, with Buzz coming to his side when the grill above them both exploded outward, shooting forward with the rope trailing behind it, and smashing against one of the telecom monitor screens. Casting their gazes up, the reason for this violent action and what Ivana's punchline had alluded to suddenly became all too clear. /Tom?!/ Chip thought in surprise, watching as the mechanical cat streaked out of the duct and into the air above him. Made out of spare parts and household appliances by a local human inventor, Tom had been the man's attempt to build "a better mousetrap". Failing to catch the Rangers, who had been scrounging around for replacement equipment parts, the inventor had discarded Tom as a failure. However, even after being chased by the invention, Gadget had insisted on rescuing him from the junkpile. After programming him with a much more friendly personality, he had then fallen into the hands of Fat Cat who had again reprogrammed him into a veritable malicious juggernaut, using Tom to steal a rare and priceless fish for him to dine upon. After another skirmish with the Rangers (the first having been in the inventor's workshop) and another reprogramming, he had then helped save the son of the fish's owner, in a cooperative race between the son and the Rangers to rescue the fish from being lost in the sewers, after being dumped down the sink by the Rangers at Fat Cat's lair. This rescue had led to his being adopted by the fish's owner to become a beloved pet for both him and his son. [] Since that case over a year and a half ago, the Rangers had visited Tom periodically....that is until his mysterious disappearance a few months back. Trying to find the missing robotic cat had proved fruitless. It was one of the few cases of theirs that had never been solved.........until now. Apparently, Ivana had made some adjustments and reprogramming to Tom as others had before her. Upon his sides were mounted some sort of rockets which were similar to the function of the propellers on the Rangerwing. After blasting him out of the air duct, they had swiveled into a vertical position and were now rapidly lowering him down to where he and Buzz now were, his red optic receptors glaring at them balefully. Gulping as he watched Tom's razor sharp steel claws extend with a precise "click" out of their paw housings, Chip was struck even more afraid by the next few words out of Buzz's mouth. "Chip?" he asked in an almost whisper, staring at the piercing red eyes. "Did Nimnul send that thing? Was that what you've been trying not to tell me?" he asked, not having believed Chip's earlier excuse. "I don't know." Chip lied as he get got to his feet, stuffing the message clue in his pocket. "Any idea how we're going to stop it?" he asked, now looking about the room for ideas or weapons. /*We*?!/ Chip thought with dread, swinging his gaze toward Buzz. As far as Buzz knew, Nimnul was the only person who created robotic animals, so his assumption was not a wild one. Buzz didn't know about half of the Ranger's cases, so he certainly didn't know about Tom. Far more important though, was the fact that he was now about to help Chip battle the reprogrammed robotic cat. He knew there could be no "we" in this case, under *any* circumstances. If Buzz made even one helpful move against Tom that might help him win the battle here, the rules of the game might be considered broken to Ivana and the Rangers' lives would terminated by her. She had expressly stated that this game was *his and his alone*. Beyond that fact, Buzz also had absolutely no training in dealing with such problems. Tom would more than likely tear him to shreds. Grasping Buzz by the arm, Chip spun him around to face him as Tom was now only five feet from the ground. "Buzz," he said in no uncertain terms. "you've got to get out of here, *now*." "What?!" Buzz cried in a shocked tone. "Why?! That thing's after you! I can't just leave you here alone!" "I-!" Chip stopped himself and screamed in frustration in his mind, his eyes going wild. Buzz wasn't about to listen to him without an extremely good reason, and he couldn't tell him anything! With Tom about to land and most likely attack him any second, he also had no time to think up an excuse, even a stupid sounding one! /I have to get Buzz out of here!/ he thought desperately. His mind raced and instantly, an idea came to him. /*The rope*./ he thought as he gaze fell upon it. "All right," he said hurriedly in a reluctant tone, "I've got a plan. Wait right here and I'll throw you the rope. We'll trip him and tie his legs up. That should stop him." As Buzz nodded his understanding, Chip took off like a shot as Tom touched down on the ground, his retrorockets turning off. As Chip dashed into the rows of computer stations, Tom tracked his course and immediately started after him, covering nearly all the distance between them in an instant. However, for all of Tom's size and speed, he wasn't nearly as nimble as Chip was, his slashing claws missing their mark every time. Moreover, instead of just chasing straight after him, *around* the computers, Tom seemed intent on a much more destructive course, pouncing upon and knocking over almost every machine which came between him and Chip. From pouncing down upon a computer, he would then leap into the air, claws flashing, to try to land upon his chipmunk quarry. It was almost as if Tom were trying to eliminate anything that Chip could use to hide behind. Weaving and ducking out the way of Tom's attacks as he ran, this ballistic course of Tom's continued until Chip finally arrived at where the metal grate had fallen, wedged within a destroyed computer screen. Flicking the rope to release the hook, he caught the hook in his hands and started off at a run once more. His direction taking him nowhere near Buzz's waiting position, he quickly began to coil the rope in his hands from behind him, hoping that Tom didn't trip him up by stepping on it. Continuing to avoid Tom's relentless slashing, and ignoring as well Buzz's confused calls as to what he was doing, Chip finally arrived at the far end of the room. Taking the now coiled rope from his arm and sidestepping a stabbing swipe from Tom's claws, he spun the hooked end and with expertly placed aim, cast it up at his target: *the fire alarm*. As the fishing hook caught upon the box's lever, Chip dodged another pounce by Tom and put all his strength into his pull. Buzz had almost caught up to them when the lever finally snapped into place, activating the alarm bell. Instantly, Buzz stopped and turned toward the sound, his eyes going into another trace like state. /Great!/ Chip thought with relief upon seeing Buzz's reaction. /His original preconditioning's still intact!/ In the case Buzz had been in, Nimnul had trained him to follow the sound of an alarm bell. The alarm bell was to be set off by a "programmed" Sparky, within the specific bank Nimnul wanted to rob, leading Buzz within the robot, to follow the sound through the sewers and to burrow underneath and into the bank to steal the cash. Now, with the fire alarm's bell ringing outside, Buzz had no choice but to follow it's call. He was out the door which Chip had left a touch open, in a flash. /Nothing stops a motivated Guinea pig./ he remembered with a grin, thinking back to the case and the rule which Sparky had taught the Rangers. /Well that's takes care of Buzz./ he mused, breathing heavily as he brought the chase back within the confines of the rows of telecom computers, trying to hide from Tom among them again. Remembering the thin piece of glass which normally covered Tom's optic sensors, Chip hurriedly took out his sling. /Now to stop Tom./ he thought. Loading a bearing into it and turning, he fired the shot off toward Tom's glaring gaze. Tom was not fast enough to avoid the hurtling missile, but it was evident that he didn't have to be. In spite of all it's velocity, the bearing reflected harmlessly off Tom's left "eye", the glass having apparently been reinforced somehow. Tom nearly connected with his next swipe as Chip stared agape at this development for a split second, before resuming the chase again. /I just hope I can figure out how to do that!/ he remarked to himself worriedly before he began to think once more. /I could try to reach the part of him that holds his Personality Programming Cartridge, but Ivana probably made it impossible for me to eject it! The glass, the cartrigde,....Ivana thought of everything! I have no other weapons..../ he considered. /*How am I gonna stop him*?/ Unlike Buzz, he couldn't afford to try to escape. He had to try to stop Tom here, where there were practically no innocent bystanders around to get hurt by this chase, or perhaps just as bad, any innocent bystanders who might try to help him with this battle. He only hoped that, until he figured out how to stop Tom, during the evacuation no humans would look into this room and- "Oh, Noooooo!!" a voice suddenly screamed out, breaking through the din. Surprised at the sound, Chip turned reflexively toward it....and was rewarded for his carelessness with sharp, burning pain. Tom's claws caught him across the top of his head, tearing across one of his ears and slashing through his hat as it went flying from his head. Fortunately, he'd seen the blow coming from the corner of his eye and had managed to duck, if only slightly. Doing what he could to roll with force of the blow, he tried to pick himself up before Tom attacked again, realizing that he now had yet another problem. For Sally Briggs had awakened after her fainting spell, and was obviously none too happy about the destruction that had taken place to her equipment during it. To that effect, she came running toward them both, the expression upon her face clearly communicating her intent on stopping the rampage through her work area. /Lady,/ Chip thought with a slight bit of exasperation, /you *really* picked a bad time to wake up! As her charge caught Tom's attention for a moment, Chip loaded up his sling once more with his last ball bearing. "Sorry about this," he said, in a apologetic tone as he whipped the sling around. Ignoring the blood that began to trickle down his face from his slashed ear, he took careful aim and released the shot up at her. Although the bearing only grazed off the side of her temple as he'd intended it to, the shot nonetheless had an ample effect as her eyes rolled up, sending her slumping toward the floor once more. /Now, *where were we*?/ Chip thought with grim humor as the chase immediately resumed. As Tom careened through the room after him once more, with many more of the telecom computers getting knocked over and damaged in the process, an idea suddenly occurred to him of how he could finally stop this frantic game of cat and mouse. Having glimpsed the untouched pizza box a few feet away, he remembered Buzz's comment of how he thought *Nimnul* had built Tom. While he hadn't, the comment did bring to mind the robot *dogs* that Nimnul had once built in the second case that the Rescue Rangers had had, that involved the mad scientist. In addition to the robot dogs, that particular case had involved stolen cats and........./*Static electricity*!()/ he thought excitedly, /It *should* work!/ Turning the chase back towards the fire alarm box, he swiftly regained the grappling rope he had left behind. Then, putting all his remaining energy into a burst of speed to buy himself a bit of distance from Tom, he put his plan into motion. Turning to face Tom and twirling the rope over his head, he sent it flying to wrap around the robot cat's legs like a bolo. As Chip pulled the rope taught, Tom's legs were brought together, and just as he had proposed this plan to Buzz, Tom immediately lost his balance and was sent crashing to the floor. Gotta hurry! Chip thought anxiously, dashing to the part of Tom's back which held his Personality Programming Cartridge. He'll snap that rope any second! As Chip had suspected, the old pop up toaster which held Tom's P.P.C, *had* been tampered with by Ivana. There was no way that he could remove the cartridge to disable him, nor any way to turn him off for his cutoff switch had been broken off as well. However, Chip suspected that he needed neither of those things to shut Tom down. All he needed was.......*himself*. As Tom strained his metallic legs out against his bonds, Chip could hear the strands of the rope beginning to snap from the pressure. Quickly rubbing his hands over his own furry body to built up a charge, he carefully reached into the toaster and touched a finger to an visible circuit board. With a snap of discharged electricity, Tom's entire body jerked once and then fell still, his head falling upon the floor with a thump. Removing his hand from the toaster and rubbing his shocked finger, Chip breathed a sign of relief as he walked around to see that Tom's optic sensors had now gone blank. The electrical discharge upon the exposed board had short circuited him, shutting him down. Removing a bandanna from his jacket pocket and blotting up the still trickling blood upon his face, he held the cloth in place upon his ear with a wince as he trotted back across the room to the untouched pizza box. Tearing off a strip of cardboard from the box, he then stopped at the once more unconscious form of Sally Briggs. Taking a pen from her pocket, he checked her over again to make sure she was all right, feeling a slight pang of guilt for having been forced to hurt her, though he knew he'd had no choice. With the pen and the cardboard strip in tow under one arm, he stopped but a moment more before returning to Tom to gingerly pick up his fallen hat. Tom's claws had shredded it straight through into strips, tearing the felt beyond all repair. With a remorseful sigh for its passing, Chip made his way back to where Tom lay, thinking about all the great times and adventures he had shared with this hat. It had been like a friend to him. Reverently laying the hat aside upon the ground, he quietly turned his attention to the strip of cardboard. Writing out a short letter upon the cardboard, he stated that Tom was the pet of John Kline. Leaving Mr. Kline's address and telephone number as well, he went on to include that Tom had been reported as stolen many months back, and that Sergeant Spinelli at the eighteenth precinct should be contacted. He just wanted to make sure that when the fire fighters traced the alarm back to this box and found this disaster area, Tom wasn't blamed and tossed into some evidence room since he didn't have any pet tags upon him. /Hopefully,/ he thought, leaving the letter partially hanging out of Tom's mouth, /Mr. Kline'll be able to reclaim him and get Tom back to his old self in a day or so./ Picking up his hat once more and reclaiming his frayed rope from Tom's legs, he exited the room, giving a last look back at the two latest pawns in Ivana's game. 3:51....... He found Buzz a short distance down the hall at the closest alarm bell, staring up blankly at it. Fishing a pair of ear plugs from his jacket, he stuffed them into Buzz's ears. As before, Buzz blinked and looked around uncertainly until he spotted Chip. Then remembering everything that had happened and how Chip had tricked him, his brow darkened with annoyance. He was about to give Chip a piece of his mind when Chip silenced him with a finger to his lips, pointing toward the ear plugs he had given him and pointing toward the alarm bell as well. Then motioning for Buzz to follow him, Chip led him down to the now empty room from which he had entered the building. Once outside Chip unfolded his paper plane and motioned for Buzz to climb aboard. Climbing in and taking off, Chip landed the glider a few moments later upon the ledge of a building across the street, out of the range of Buzz's hearing for the alarm bell. "*Why did you trick me*?!" Buzz demanded to know, removing the ear plugs. "I can't tell you why." Chip sighed tiredly, lowering his eyes. "What kind of *baloney* is that?!" Buzz raved furiously, pointing to Chip's wounded ear to which he had begun to apply pressure once more with his bandanna. "You could have been killed by that thing!" "Look Buzz," Chip said, placing an earnest hand upon his shoulder. "I'm sorry for tricking you. Really. I'd like to, but I can't talk about what's going on right now, what I'm doing and why. You have to trust me, but there's a good reason for all of this. I promise can tell you later on tonight if you'll wait for me back outside of headquarters." /If I get out of this alive./ he thought to himself, not adding the thought since he didn't want to further excite Buzz who was already anxious at what was going on. "The only other thing that I ask is not to go in until I get there, or until nine o clock tonight, and no, I can't say why." he finished, anticipating Buzz's last question. Buzz seemed to consider this for a moment, as he studied Chip's face. "You won't let me come along to help you, huh?" "No." Chip said as he shook his head. His voice indicating that even *he* didn't like his reply. Breathing a reluctant sigh, Buzz shrugged. "Okay." he said. "You gonna be all right?" he asked a moment later, pointing once more to Chip's ear. As Chip nodded, his face showing that he appreciated Buzz's concern, Buzz looked over the side of the ledge that they had landed on. "You got time to drop me off?" he asked, pointing toward the ground. "Sure." Chip replied. "Just do me one favor, would you Buzz?" "You mean.........*help* you with something?" Buzz asked with a look of humorous sarcasm. "Funny." Chip smirked at him. "Thanks." Buzz grinned back. "What do you need?" he asked then sincerely, knowing from Chip's tone that the request was serious. "Take care of this til I get back." Chip said, handing Buzz his hat as he withdrew it from within his jacket. Buzz whistled with shock as he viewed the shredded fedora. Looking at the slightly pained expression on Chip's face as he offered it to him, he took the hat gently in his hands, giving him a confident smile of appreciation at his trust. As Chip rarely ever took the hat off, it was obvious to Buzz that it meant a lot to him. "Sure thing. Til you get back." Buzz stated, his tone confident as he shifted the hat to one hand to extend the other to Chip. Smiling his thanks at Buzz's confidence, Chip took his hand and shook it warmly. "Just one last thing." Buzz began to ask curiously. "Can you tell me why you smell lik-" "I'll tell you about that later, too." Chip said, holding up a hand to silence him as he grinned awkwardly with embarrassment. Barely four minutes later, Chip stood upon a much lower ledge of the same building, leaning against the wall. His plane standing ready before him, he began reading over the latest rhyme clue, trying to decipher its meaning. Minutes before as he saw him off, Buzz had wished him luck with what ever this was about, hoping that whatever it was, it came out all right. So do I. Chip thought, echoing his heartfelt words of minutes ago. *So do I*. Meanwhile, as the sun continued it's fateful arc toward the Western horizon, in the headquarters of the Rescue Rangers, the wicks of Ivana's symbolic timer continued to burn ever shorter, the suspended daggers within it waiting expectantly for the sunset..................... (*) From the CDRR episode "Weather or not." >-RR-"The Case of the Cola Cult". >>-RR-"Dirty Rotten Diapers". *-RR-"Weather or Not" **-RR-"Out of Scale". @-RR-"A Fly in the Ointment". {}-RR-"Does Pavlov Ring a Bell?" |-RR-"To the Rescue!" <>-RR-"The Pied Piper Power Play". +-RR- "Out To Launch". []-RR-"Robocat". ()-RR-"Catteries not included".