There was a Guard outside the Sunflower Official's door. Alex Orange didn't know her name — the Department of Internal Security weren't the kind of people you socialised with — but her face was ominously familiar. She had that kind of smile that said she knew exactly what you thought of her, and didn't care one bit.
"Agent Orange!" she exclaimed as the Assassin approached. "Here to see the Sunflower, sweetie?"
"Er, yes." Alex was more than a little unnerved at being named by the Guard. First the confrontation with Agent Hyrax and his not-a-hyrax partner, and now this; were the Fantasy Division making themselves worthy of capital-A Attention from the security department? "Is that… okay?"
"Of course!" The Guard beamed. "Just making sure you were in the right place." She leant back and pushed on the grey door, swinging it open a crack. "Go right on in; he's expecting… oh, someone, not really sure but you'll do."
Alex took a deep breath and walked forward, keeping half an eye on the still-grinning Guard. It wasn't often that a PPC agent felt relieved to get into their Department Head's office, but in this case…
Ah, Agent Thorntree, the Sunflower Official said as Alex pulled the door to. I'm sure you've met… wait, you are not Agent Thorntree, I can tell by the lack of flakiness.
"No, sir, I'm—" Alex looked around the office, and found the other Assassin standing quietly by one wall. "I'm Alex Orange. Sam's partner."
Your identity is obvious, the SO said, ignoring his confusion of a moment before. But you are partnered with Agent Wentway. He tipped a petal towards the other agent. Agent Apple is being reassigned.
"That's why I'm here." Alex stepped forward, exchanging another quick look with Sam Apple. "I'm sticking with Sam. If you've got a new partner lined up, you can give them to Mortic."
The SO looked as nonplussed as a sentient sunflower ever can. I'm not sure you understand how this works, he said. I give the orders; you follow them. It's not the other way round.
"I'm Sam's partner," Alex said stubbornly. "I don't see why this is a problem, all you have to do is swap Mort in. Unless…" Alex's eyes widened and flickered to Sam. "You're not being sent to another department, are you?"
"I'm supposed to be working with Jay," Sam said quietly. "I'll still be in Fantasy, even; it won't be so bad."
"It's not going to happen," Alex insisted. "Come on, sir; Mort and Jay would get along like a house on fire."
Complete with screaming, the SO said. That's why it's completely impossible. But.
Alex and Sam both swung round to face him. "But?"
But if the Fantasy Division were reduced to two Assassins, the Sunflower said, each working solo, I might be able to finally pry some of the Lichen's excess Untanglers away from him.
"Er." Alex raised a hand. "Who's working solo? Because I'm sticking with—"
Agent Apple, yes. The Flower's tendrils shifted, summoning and dismissing documents on his desk console. Who I believe has read the Animorphs series of older sapling books.
Sam blinked. "I— yes, sir, I have."
Excellent. Transfer approved. The SO snapped his tendrils back in and fixed them both with an intense, eyeless look. The Spies have been notified and are transferring your data as we speak. Report to Response Centre 455. Dismissed.
Alex raised a hand. "Sir, what—"
Did I say 'dismissed'? It felt like I said 'dismissed'. So consider yourself dismissed.
Outside, the Guard gave the pair a cheery wave. "Byebye!" she called as they hurried off down the corridor. "Have fun!"
"What just happened?" Alex hissed to Sam, rounding the first corner. "What did we just— whoa, hey!"
A nervous-looking young woman wearing a Finance flashpatch had practically run into Alex. The Assassin dodged past her, preparing some choice words, but the Accountant didn't even slow down. In a second she was gone, leaving Alex and Sam staring at each other.
"I don't know what this place is coming to," Alex said, continuing on down the corridor. "Here we are, right in the middle of DMS territory, and people just barge into us like we're nobody."
Sam was glancing backwards, towards the vanished Accountant. "Wasn't that Blue's girlfriend? Isobel, Imogen, something like that?"
"Er." Alex tried to recall the girl's face. "Could have been? I think I only met her once." The pair rounded another corner, passing a taped-off Response Centre. "What happened to them, anyway?" Alex added. "Blue and Tango, I mean. It seems like one day we woke up and Fantasy was just two teams, not three."
Sam frowned. "You must have heard the rumours."
"There are always rumours," Alex said dismissively. "That they ran away together, that they got poached by DAVD or Despatch, that they were arrested for killing the SO, which," the Assassin flicked a thumb back towards the office, "I'm pretty sure didn't happen. I figure they must have transferred, but I haven't seen them around the department."
"Um." Sam glanced around, as if checking they had privacy. "What I heard, from Steve over in Jossverse, is that— okay, what is that?"
'That' was a high-pitched tone, saw-toothed and invasive, the sort of noise that gets straight into your head and slashes at your brain. It had been getting louder for the past few seconds, and had now reached a volume where it couldn't be ignored:
[beeeeeeeEEEEEEEEP!]
"It's coming from in there," Alex said, nodding at the closest door. "It sounds like a console bip, if you turned it up to eleven thousand."
"Someone's in for it, then," Sam muttered, then sighed and walked over to tap the number on the door. "Four-five-five, the SO said?"
Alex groaned. "Thank you, Ironic Overpower. We should have just kept walking."
Their RC turned out to be small and sparsely furnished, with the console taking up most of one wall. Sam pushed the accept button on the keyboard, silencing the alarm at last, and after a moment's thought the screen flickered into activity. "I thought this might happen," the Assassin said, skimming the message, which was headed 'Intelligence Report TOP PRIORITY DO NOT IGNORE WE MEAN IT'. "Welcome to the Animorphs Division."
Alex opened the wall-mounted cupboard, which held the standard DMS mission kit — notepad, both CADs, cheap rucksacks, and simple weapons, in this case a pair of pistols. "And what's that when it's at home?"
"Um." Sam settled down into the plastic chair. "Okay, you know shapeshifters?"
"I'm— I was in the Fantasy Division," Alex said, pulling one of the bags down. "I think you can assume I know what shapeshifting is."
"Sure." Sam leant forward and tapped at the keyboard, setting up the portal and disguises. "So basically that, but sci-fi. The Animorphs are a bunch of kids who fight mind-controlling alien parasites."
"Oh, a medical drama." Alex pulled one of the guns down, checked that it was loaded, and tucked it into the bag. "What are we going as, doctors?"
"It's not a— you know what, it'll be easier just to show you." Sam punched the button, and the portal generator ground into life. "Good grief, this is even older than our last one… you packed?"
"Not a lot to it." Alex tossed the other bag across and walked over to the portal frame. "Was that a yes or no on the doctors?"
"We're going as we are," Sam said. "All I've changed is to edit the flash-patches out. We can pretend to be Controllers, that should be safe enough." The portal fizzled into existence, and the Assassin pulled the Remote Activator from its charging dock. "Come on — the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can have lunch. I'm starving."
"A run-in with Upstairs will do that to you," Alex agreed, and together they stepped through the blue doorway and vanished.
Hello, my name is chris This is going to be a little new for you, I can tell you my name and I can tell you where I live. I can tell you all this because I don't belong here. My name is Chris Taylor. I live, well, I used to live in Chicago.
Sam cringed. "I can already tell I'm going to hate this division."
The agents had appeared in the middle of a large bookstore. Alex peered around a shelf, trying to pinpoint Chris. "I mean, it was a little clumsily phrased, but I didn't think it was that bad."
"That's because you haven't read the books," Sam replied. "The Animorphs always start by telling us that they can't reveal their names or where they live; this is a deliberate twisting."
"Ah." Alex spotted a generic-looking teenager above whom the Words seemed to cluster more thickly. "It's good to put your own twist on things though, right?"
"Not when you do it that badly," Sam grumbled. "Have you found him?"
"I think so." Alex pointed at the teenager. The potential Suvian had walked over to a bookstand decorated with pictures Alex saw as a group of kids, a blue centaur, and a T. rex, but Sam recognised as the Animorphs, an Andalite, and, well, a T. rex.
"Yeah, that's him." Sam watched Chris snatch a couple of books and wander off to read them. The Assassin waited until he was fully occupied, then crossed to the shelf and ran a hand across the spines. "It's been a while since I read these… I don't recognise half the titles."
Alex plucked one of the thicker volumes from the shelf and leafed through it. "I thought you said they were Animorphs; what's a Megamorph?"
Sam swatted at the book. "Put that back! We're here on a mission, not to read."
"If I'm going to be in the Animorphs Division, I should probably know what it's about. Hold still." Alex tucked the book into Sam's pack and went back to the stand. "Let's see… they're pretty slim, so maybe numbers 1 to 5 to start with?"
"Alex!" Sam protested. "We can't just steal the books!"
"It's not like anyone's going to notice," Alex said, adding a copy of the book Chris was now bent over. "Besides, they owe us for defending them from the likes of him."
Sam pulled away and sealed the backpack before Alex could take anything else. "We don't do this job so people owe us. We do it to keep the Worlds safe."
"Sure," Alex said tolerantly, then nodded over at Chris. "Speaking of which?"
The Suvian was deep in conversation with an elderly man, who (in contrast to the teenager) was so heavily described that he came out looking like a wizard. The agents ducked down behind a shelf and edged closer to listen in as the man spoke.
"Let me ask you a question, if the Animorphs were real and you had the chance, would you join them? Now don't answer yet!" He said before I could blurt out (You bet I would). "Now I want you to think, I mean, really think about that. Remember how they described what they went through. The terror......the destruction.......the pain...... and the sorrow." Then I noticed a tear running down my cheek. I dident believe it, I had really felt for these characters in the books.
"Now, remember the courage....... the triumph......the happiness. They know they are the last hope for this planet. So I ask you again. If the Animorphs where real, and you had the chance to join them in their lasting struggle to save the world, to fight along side them, even to morph.......WOULD YOU?"
"Yes..... oh yes I would! I truly wo—" When I looked up he was gone "-uld!" I didn't bother looking for the man, I just started reading agean.
"Don't read the Aegean," Sam muttered, "that's how you wind up in the Odyssey."
Alex looked peevish. "Is that all you've got to comment on?"
"No," Sam said, "this is how I keep my sanity in the face of such disregard for even the most basic rules of the English language."
"And storytelling," Alex added. "And respect for readers — I mean, he can't be much of a fan if he's never felt emotionally connected to the characters before!"
Sam reached over and patted Alex's cheek. "Not everyone is PPC levels of obsessed. But yes." The Assassin looked up, just as the bookshop warped around them into a cramped bedroom. "Also, not impressed with his scene transitions."
"What transitions?" Alex grumbled. "I think we've just gone through three scenes in a single paragraph."
"That's why they call it badfic." Sam ducked in behind a laundry hamper as the old man from the bookstore appeared on Chris' bed. "Wait, is that—?"
"The question is not who but what. I am what is called an Ellimist." "Ha! The Ellimist is just a character in the books." "Yes, AND HE HAS CHOSEN YOU" Suddenly, I was floating in this array of colors, traveling through what seemed like a worm hole on Star Trek DS9. I was Flung out into space, stars all around me and the planet Earth in the distance. The thing that bothered me was the fact that I could breath. "I must be dreaming. Yes, I fell asleep while I was reading my book." I said to myself.
"NO, YOU ARE NOT DREAMING SCOTT."
Alex had never heard Sam swear quite so vehemently before. "I guess with the Suvian off down a worm's hole we don't have to be quiet any more?"
Sam glared daggers at the empty bed. "That absolutely, categorically cannot be the Ellimist."
Alex checked the Words. "Oh, it did say he was a book character… is he not usually a Usenet troll?"
Sam calmed down slightly. "I mean… a bit. I was more referring to the part where he apparently mind-controlled Chris—"
"Scott." Alex pointed upwards.
Sam huffed. "The Suvian into packing his books. The Ellimist would never."
The scene ended around them, morphing into a dusty barn as Alex shrugged. "It's like you said — that's why they call it badfic."
Sam's complaints petered away into incoherent mumbling. Alex peered at the Words and prompted, "Any idea who that is coming into the barn?"
Sam gave the other Assassin a suspicious look, but leant obediently to look past the pile of rusty tools they had appeared behind. "Oh! You didn't tell me the Animorphs were here."
"Obviously I would have," Alex said, "if I had the faintest idea what that meant."
Sam's eyes rolled. "I thought we went over this. Animorphs is about five human kids and their alien friend, who can shapeshift — morph — into animals. Hence, ani-morph."
"Ah," Alex said solemnly, "YA worldbuilding at its finest."
"Hush, you," Sam chided. "It's a really good series — they're fighting a whole hidden alien invasion all by themselves, they're amazing kids. And," the Assassin peeked out again, "that's them! Jake, Cassie, Rachel and the rest. I can't believe I'm actually seeing them."
Alex carefully hid a smile. "And that's the flip side of the PPC coin: there may be badfic, but we're the only people who get to actually meet our fictional heroes."
"Even if they are OOC half the time," Sam replied, but couldn't restrain a grin when a red-tailed hawk swooped into the barn and perched on a rafter. "It's Tobias!"
"Uh-huh," Alex said, peering past Sam. "And who's the one with the bread-basket?"
I looked over the bail of hay to see what was happening. To my shock and amazement their was this creature. It looked like it was changing. Two stalks started to protrude from his head. A tail sprouted from his bake and two....things started coming out from his stomach as this was happening it started to turn blue.
Sam cringed and pulled out a notebook to scribble down the charge: "Making… Ax… morph… with baked goods. This is why the spelling actually matters."
Alex turned away as the boy-plus-bread continued his transformation into a blue centaur. "And this is one of the aliens they're fighting, right?"
"No, this is Ax," Sam said. "He's an Andalite — they're the shapeshifters who originally gave the Animorphs their powers. The evil aliens are Yeerks."
"I see," said Alex, who didn't really. "And are we going to meet any of them?"
"I hope not," Sam muttered. "They're literal brain-worms: they crawl into your ear and control you."
"I think there was a Star Trek episode about that," Alex recalled. "— oh, heads up, or rather down."
With no obvious prompting, Ax had found Chris/Scott and was now holding the sword-bladed end of his tail to the Suvian's throat. "Call yourself a fan," Sam grumbled. "You really think Ax would hurt an innocent human? You think Jake would let him? Most of the time they won't even kill Controllers!"
"I just hope they don't come after us," Alex said. "We're going to have to do the Duty with six trigger-happy canons looking over our shoulder."
Sam glanced up at the Words, deep in thought. "I think we've got about enough to charge him with, and I'd rather get him before he shows the entire book series to the Animorphs… wait, books!" The Assassin popped up, scanning the barn. "There — over on the hay, uh, bailing bucket, apparently, good grief."
"We already knew good English had been thrown out of the window." Alex squinted up at the Words. "He's going to send, uh, Marco to get the bag of books in a minute."
"And if he can't find them," Sam said, "then the story will be derailed. When that happens…"
"A Suvian will always try to fix it himself," Alex agreed. "Reckon you can get to it in time?"
"If you can keep the Animorphs from coming to find us when I do," Sam said, and slipped off down the side of the heap of junk.
Alex kept an eye on the bag, listening with half an ear to the ongoing fic. The characters were just going on about the Ellimist, though somehow giving even less information than the old man's cryptic appearance, when the bag handle twitched. A moment later, the whole bag vanished from view, and not a moment too soon.
"No, I wasn't spying on you." I said, trying to find a way to convince them.
Then I remembered that I still had the bag with the books in it. I looked around to find the bag, then I saw it.
The Suvian twitched as his story faltered: the bag was now out of sight, with only a couple of spilled books to mark where it had been. Suvians not being noted for their improvisation skills, he did his best to carry on regardless:
It was spilled out… sort of… by the bail of hay I landed on. "My bag, get my bag." I said pointing to the bag that might save my life… or to where it should have been.
One of the Animorphs (the Words told Alex his name was Marco) glanced in the direction of the 'hay bail' (which was still a bucket), but didn't move. Chris huffed with annoyance, shook off the suddenly quiescent Ax, and stalked off to look for the bag.
There was a thump from behind the hay, and the Animorphs started towards it, but right then Alex leapt out into view and shouted, "Hey!"
The six canon characters (four human, one alien, one hawk) turned almost in unison as the PPC agent grinned manically at them.
<Who are you?> The Andalite asked. "What are you doing in here?" A tall blond girl asked.
Alex ignored the regurgitated badfic lines and pointed excitedly at the rafters. "Hey, is that a red-tailed hawk? That's my favourite bird!"
The canons shifted uneasily, but they were still trapped in the badfic, with only a limited number of lines to draw on. <Answer the question!> The Andalite ordered.
From behind the hay bucket, Sam's voice was faintly audible: "... egregious levels of English-language abuse, forcing the Ellimist — the Ellimist! — to…" The Animorphs tried to turn back in that direction, but Alex grabbed their attention again.
"Do you know why I love red-tailed hawks? Ha! More like, why wouldn't I?" The Assassin looked up at the bewildered bird. "I mean, look at that tail! Look at that…" Alex squinted at the hawk, which tail aside was rather nondescript. "... uh, beak!"
"... really mucked up their morphing," Sam was saying. "I get that the Ax thing was yet another spelling error, but why even bother giving yourself instant morphing as a special thing if you're going to mention the TV show as well…"
"And their cries!" Alex went on, trying to drown out the other Assassin. "Do you know why they're featured in every movie since the dawn of the Spaghetti Western? Do you?"
The canons looked at each other, Alex's ramblings breaking through the badfic's chaining Words. <I don't… know?> the hawk said, though Alex sensed that his meaning was closer to 'I don't understand what you're on about.'
"It's because their cries…" There was a brief scuffling from behind the hay bucket, and Alex ramped up the volume. "... are so…" Chris scrambled back into view, but Sam was right behind him, gun in hand. "... AWESOME!" Alex concluded, as the pistol fired.
Despite Alex's efforts, the Animorphs span round at the shot, but Sam's aim had been true. The Suvian died instantly, and with him went the only thing drawing the canon characters' attention to the intrusive story.
Ax looked around, his tail twitching in confusion. <Prince Jake, why did we come here?>
"I don't…" Jake passed a hand across his eyes, as if trying to clear the cobwebs from them. "I don't think we had a reason, did we?"
The moment of disorientation passed, and Alex nodded in satisfaction as the six canons headed back out of the barn, already drifting back into their normal conversation. The last to go was the red-tailed hawk, Tobias; as he flew through the doorway, he let out a screech which was instantly familiar to anyone who has ever heard any bird of prey in any film, ever.
Sam emerged from the shadows, bag in hand. "I've stuffed him under what is now actually a bale of hay," the Assassin reported. "This place is clearly disused, so I doubt he'll ever be found. Here."
Alex tried to step back, but Sam's aim with the bag was as unerring as with the gun. "I don't want your pack— oof!"
Sam grinned. "It's not my pack. I figured Chris-Scott-corpse didn't need it any more, and you were trying to pilfer the contents of a bookshop earlier…"
Alex opened the pack and found it stuffed full of what, according to the Words earlier, should be every Animorphs book in print. "Aww — you do like me after all!"
"Don't push it, partner." Sam pulled out the Remote Activator and pushed the big button on the end. A hum filled the barn, and after a moment the portal appeared in the air, their RC visible on the far side. "Come on — let's go home."
A Very Mkellin Mystery, Part 1
Durran Mkellin had always considered himself a man out of his time.
Back home — when 'home' had been anything but ghosts and regrets — he had learned the woods like any other Tanith. But he hadn't been out there hunting, or gathering nalwood for the fire, or smuggling or any of a dozen other reasons. No, Kell had spent his days wandering the old lost townships that the forests had taken, reflecting on the days when his world had spun through a gentler, kinder galaxy.
Then had come the war, and shortly after, the PPC. The Bracket Fungus' speech on the need for security, for safety, had spoken to something in his heart, and Kell had been one of the very first to sign up to the new Department of Internal Security. But as the years passed, safety had given way to obedience, and security to submission, and Kell's DIS had become something far darker.
Take this case — a woman murdered, right in the middle of PPC HQ. She had been no-one special: just another Untangler, her only claim to fame a brief partnership two years back with the PPC's First Agent. Nendil hadn't even wanted an investigation — "HQ is filled with killers," he had said, "I won't waste resources trying to find this specific one."
But Kell disagreed. It was a matter of honour, he said. The DIS was supposed to protect the rest of the PPC. A crime had been committed — and Durran Mkellin was going to solve it.
Disclaimer: Animorphs belongs to K.A. Applegate. The PPC is the creation of Jay and Acacia. This mission is by Huinesoron. A Very Mkellin Mystery was cowritten by Huinesoron & Lily Winterwood.
By ANICHRIS
Published: 7 April 2022
Timeline: 20 May 1999
Huinesoron's Author's Note: Welcome to Apples & Oranges, the PPC's earliest-in-the-timeline spinoff. Having just split with their previous partner, Alex and Sam are making their own way in the unfamiliar PPC of May 1999. They seem to be settling in well into their new division, and I'm sure nothing is coming to disrupt that…
Charge List:
- Miscellaneous offences against the English language
- Making the Ellimist directly interfere in another's actions.
- Turning the Ellimist into a Usenet troll.
- Forgetting your own name.
- Making Ax morph with baked goods.
- Causing the Animorphs to threaten a free human's life.
- Revealing out-of-continuum knowledge to the Animorphs.
- Obtaining illicit morphing powers.
- Glowing while morphing.
- Instantaneous morphing.