Malf-Life
by Gyrotank
Chapter 1
Fights and Flights
1
…Never before has Dirk Suave been so close to failure.
He and Oddshoe stood at the edge of a tiny helicopter pad on the roof of a mountain fortress deep lost somewhere in the Himalayas, built by a sinister villain Doctor So-So as a secret headquarters for his operations in Asia. Right here, in this fortress near Ganges head water, he stored up a huge amount of toxic substances which he planned to pour out into the great river to poison the whole population of a nearby Nepal and India districts clean. That would allow an unopposed occupation of these territories by Chinese troops lead by Doctor's puppet, General Zhu Cheng, and in a short time the Third World War would inevitably follow. It would cause massive death and misery, but not for So-So who now possessed controlling stocks in all major weapon-building companies of the capitalist world. Nobody seemed to be able to uncover his plans, let alone ruin them. But with many dangers and adventures left behind, brave superagent Suave infiltrated the fortress and now, facing dozens of Doctor's henchmen's machine guns, was preparing to deliver the last crushing blow…
"Stop watching this stupid movie over and over, Dale!"
As if someone passed his paws over the glass, Chip's strident voice pierced through space and time and brought Dale from inhospitable Himalayas back to the Ranger HQ living room.
"What?! Stupid?! This is one of the best episodes!" exclaimed red-nosed chipmunk. "Next Agent 00 will somersault through the bullets and then, with his jetpack ready, through the rockets! It's classical!"
Dale tried hard to demonstrate these somersaults but got entangled in his own extremities and fell to the floor.
"It's not classical, it's STU-PID!" declared Chip categorically and approached the couch. "You'd better come and help me and Gadget install new 'Ranger Wing' power cells! Besides, this episode has been broadcasted for one hundred times already!"
"No, not one hundred, just twelve… twenty maybe…"
Dale scratched his head to calculate precisely.
"Twelve, twenty… Big difference! There's nothing to look at beyond the first time! And the first time too, if you ask me!"
"That's why I never ask you, pal! I find out something brand new every time!"
"Ah, yes," chuckled Chip. "I always forget that you never get anything right away!"
"What did you say?!"
Dale fell on him, and they rushed through the room like one big destructive furry ball. They threw hall tree and a couple of chairs down, flew over the couch and rammed into the TV controls. As a result, the living room became less suitable for living, and Dirk Suave gave place to TV news reader.
"…And in conclusion — scientific news. Today, after many years of extensive research, Alternative Energy Source Project was finished with astonishing success. Group of scientists lead by Professor Silverspoon from Bottlebottom Research Center managed to isolate supertransuranic element ululunium, existence of which was theoretically predicted way back in…"
"Ha-ha-ha, ululunium! Oh dear, I can't stand it…" Dale burst out laughing and forgot about his clash with Chip entirely.
"Ululunium is isolated? At last! It's great news!" Angelic voice was heard, and Gadget entered the room. Her beautiful as ever face shone even brighter, and oil spots on her forehead and cheeks not marred but harmonically added to the image, emphasizing on sky-radiant eyes and smile. The latter almost straight away gave place to evident displeasure, though.
"Golly, what a mess! You cannot live through the day without a furniture devastating fight, can you, guys?"
"He, he started this!" Dale yelled pointing at Chip, who was too busy sweeping dust off his jacket and fedora to react immediately. But when he finished and prepared to answer accordingly, it was all too late, for Gadget's anger was aimed at him now.
"How could you, Chip? You are the leader, after all! You must be above this! Not only I had to load power cell myself and if it weren't for Monty, it would have remained unplugged, but you wreaked one heck of havoc!"
"Wait, wait, it wasn't like this! I'll explain…" chattered Chip, but the moment was gone. Gadget had already found everything out, and this situation was of no interest to her any more. Ululunium news was, though, and she attentively listened to each and every word of Professor Silverspoon, head of the research project. A shortish chubby gray-haired man with thick beard, he sputtered scientific terms into Stan Blather's microphone. For Chip, Dale, bored city news reporter and a vast majority of audience his speech sounded like Pushtu. But definitely not for Gadget, who accompanied scientist's on TV screen oration with exclamation like "Certainly!", "Just like I thought!", "Pretty simple, but awfully brilliant!".
Here Dale decided to finish Chip completely. He stepped, no, swam to the inventor and, having given a courteous cough, pronounced in his most twee voice possible.
"Dear Gadget, this professor talks so excitingly, it's just breathtaking! It's a pity I don't get everything. Could you please explain, what this 'i-zo-do-be' thing means?"
Beautiful mouse giggled.
"No, silly-billy, not 'i-zo-do-be', but 'i-so-to-pe'! Let's go, I have some tables in my workshop, they'll make it clearer."
With her hand on Dale's shoulder, she led chipmunk to the door. Gadget was so excited talking about atoms, protons and stuff, she didn't notice Dale turned around and, on top of it all, pulled insulting face to completely drooped Chip.
"Well," murmured Chip, whose victory over Dale's spy fever turned out truly Pyrrhic, "this time he outgalloped me. But he'll get it hot, I'll see to it!"
He grudgely pulled the hat down over his eyes, and, firmly resolved, started bringing order to the room.
2
"Red wire in here… Green one in here… Yellow one… What's that yellow wire for, huh? Why would I need it?.. Ah, yes, this should be outer circuit. And if it is, I'll plug him here. Lock everything in… Done!"
Gadget closed engine cowling down and jumped on hangar's floor.
"And what good 'ill it do now, Gadj?" Monterrey Jack asked warily, looking at the excessively enlarged 'Ranger Wing' engines with confusion and dread.
"Oh, we'll definitely find this out! Get in, there's going to be a test flight!"
"Yeah, right, but I mean, what're all those diff'ulties fo'?" Australian said, clambering up in plane cabin. "The 'Wing' flies greatly! Most of the time, at least. When everythin' works like it should… Yikes! What did I say that for?!"
"But Monty, you can't live by yesterday's standards! With progress so inexorable, we just ought to be on its very edge! Otherwise we'll find out one day that Fat Cat is equipped way better than we are!"
"Okay, okay, I give up!" Monty raised his hands in emphatic manner. "So, what're we waitin' for?"
"For Chip and Dale, obviously! If you gonna test something, test it with full load!"
Monty swallowed nervously.
"Gadget luv, maybe we should do a couple of circles around da tree in, howdy ya say, light-weight version? Besides, ya should 'ave put remote control in the 'Wing', gyrotank style, very lon' time ago! Just for precautions, really…"
"I'll definitely think this over… Oh, guys, here you are! Come quickly, we've been long waiting for you!"
Gadget waved invitingly, and the chipmunks dashed to the plane with all their might. Chip needed to hold his customary hat and was forced to run part of the way on his three. So Dale outdistanced him slightly and jumped straight off into the co-pilot seat. But Chip pulled friend out of it and threw him to the back in order to occupy a place alongside Gadget himself.
"HEY! That's unfair! I did come first!" shouted Dale, his rage truly boundless.
"Fasten yourself, izodobe!" snarled at him Chip, then turned to Gadget and reported in completely different voice:
"Everyone's onboard, Captain!"
"Great work, navigator!" Gadget laughed and started the engines. A thundering roar was heard, and blue sparks bustled through engines' frames. Plane started trembling heavily, then suddenly bolted upwards piercing crown of the tree.
"Why-y is-s pla-ane sha-aki-ing?!" Despite sitting right next to Gadget, Chip had to shout to be heard.
"E-engi-ines a-are ga-athe-eri-ing spe-e-ed! Ho-old o-on, its ti-ime to swi-itch to-o pla-ane mo-ode!" mouse answered.
"Qui-i-icke-er, plea-ease! I-I a-am fed u-up wi-ith the-e ro-o-cke-et mo-ode!" yelled Dale clutching convulsively at the back of her seat.
Gadget merely hemmed and switched red flight mode lever into topmost position. For a brief moment "Wing" came to a standstill, waiting for engines to rotate for 90 degrees. Then she darted forward just as abruptly as before, and all the passengers were pressed in the backs of their seats.
"Oh-oh, wo-ow!" Monterrey Jack uttered looking at the kaleidoscope of city blocks rushing beneath them. "Just aw bit mo' and we'll gonna fly into space, seems to me!"
But it wasn't the case. First engines roared even louder, though it seemed nigh impossible, and began to smoke. Soon nasty metal gnashing followed, then propeller blades tore off and scattered in the air by elaborate curves. Having lost all the traction, plane kept flying forward for some time, then bowed down and started to fall with a train of thick black smoke left behind her.
"AAAAHHH!" Dale bawled and seized Monty by the shoulder.
"AAAAHHH!" Monty bawled and seized Chip by the jacket collar.
"EEEEHHH!" Zipper squeaked clamped between Monty and Dale.
"GAAADGEEET!" Chip bawled and seized inventor by her hand.
"I'm trying, I'm trying! It's good I installed additional flaps! Extending them… now!"
Gadget toggled two switches on the console, but nothing happened.
"Oh Golly! That's what that yellow wire was for!" she screamed in horror. "GUYS! Dale, Monty! You'll have to do it manually!"
"Aaah! Manually what? Aaah!"
"There should be two levers on the wings near you! Pull them, quickly!"
"You bet!" Monty said. He leant over the board, barely reached small metal handle and pulled it toward himself. Though not straight off, the lever moved, and additional flap sprang out from beneath the wing. As a result, the plane abruptly tilted to the left, and was now cork-screwing instead of falling downright.
"It's your turn, Dale! Faster!"
"O-okay, I go-ot it!" Dale murmured. He slowly unclenched his hands off the back of front seat and tried to reach the handle. But due to him being smaller than Monty and because of plane bank, he could not. Then Monty came to the rescue. Muscle mouse grabbed squealing chipmunk by his legs and lowered him to the very lever. Dale instinctively grabbed the handle, Rocky pulled him, and the lever snapped into action. The second flap stabilized "Ranger Wing" completely and the Rangers went on flying at a height of the third floor. Gadget operated the empennage expertly and managed to haul their now-glider as far as the city park, to a stone's throw from their HQ.
No sooner had the plane jumped approximately thirty feet on the grass and stopped than everybody but Gadget rushed headlong out of the plane and began to kiss the earth frantically.
"Oh Golly, what a shyness!" mouse commented on this sight. Inventor took her goggles off and adjusted disheveled hair then climbed out on the wing and started to examine the engines.
"Okay, Gadj, tell us why we are still alive, huh?" asked Monterrey while spitting out the dirt clodding his mouth.
"Just a minute!" answered Gadget as if nothing happened. She was too infatuated with her work to grasp all the profundity of Monty's irony. "Capacitors failed… Safety fuses burnt out… Insulation melted down…"
"Are blades all right? They didn't fell off, did they?" Monty continued with sarcasm and picked up Zipper who hadn't recovered from flight's peripetia yet from the ground.
"Blades… Oh, they fell off indeed… Darn, I completely forgot about blade mounts! They weren't designed for such a workload! Give or take those safety fuses… Don't worry; I can fix that in five minutes! Ten at most!"
"Eh, no offense, Gadget luv, but maybe you shouldda get back to the previous model?"
"I don't know," the beautiful mouse grew sad, "I thought our conventional speed is not sufficient anymore…"
"Gadget, by God! It is still quite enough! Be sure, you'll have plenty o' time to bring design to perfection! Dis new engines just won't be too economical until the villains grow jet turbines!"
Gadget brightened.
"You are certainly right, Monty! By that time I'll definitely come up with something new! I already have got some outlines of the full-fledged supersonic aircraft!.. But I don't have all the necessary parts to repair the engines, though…"
"Very well!" Chip took an initiative. "Then Monty, Zipper and Dale will set off for the parts, and I will help Gadget bring "Wing" back to HQ!"
"Hey, wait a second!" Dale rebelled. "Why do I have to go with Monty, and YOU — go with Gadget?"
"Um, well… Because you have attended the lection on isotopes already, but I haven't. Am I right, Gadget?"
Dale had nothing to trump with, so he just grimaced and followed Monty with great disappointment.
3
"Well, I am sure our audience came to know a lot of new and interesting facts about alternative energy sources. It remained only to wish Professor Silverspoon and his colleagues good luck and further success in the field of science…"
The Greatest Spy In The World turned the TV off and rubbed his hands anticipating the big events coming. He has been watching the Bottlebottom research for a very long time already, and now the ululunium project was finished at last. Sure, it will take years and years of research to master its properties completely and launch its full-scale production. But there were numerous clients already who would like to get hold of this unique element sample. Someone wanted to turn it into the inexhaustible power source, others — into warheads. These aspects didn't bother Spy at all. One thing he knew for sure — ululunium cost huge, unthinkable money. One milligram was worth one hundred million dollars. It's easy to calculate that under such conditions one could sell 100 milligram for 10 billion. Bottlebottom stored raw materials to produce 300 milligram. That's THIRTY BILLION! Such money was worth the risk. Spy was already going to retire, and thirty billion dollars had to become quite good lay-off pay.
"Where are those darned rats?!" He brought his fist down on the table and started walking up and down the room, his hands behind his back.
"If they don't find Nimnul in these two days, I'll have to start everything from scratch!"
The big rat wearing a splendid red suit and black wide-brimmed hat climbed up the table and stood at attention.
"My dear Francis!" Spy said in a sugary voice, his glare sinister though. "Where is Nimnul?"
Boss of spy-rats shrugged his shoulders.
"Okay, then. Where are Moe and Louie?"
Francis pointed to the entrance and shrugged his shoulders once again.
"Very good! Perfect! Great!.. IT IS INADEQUATE! GET BACK TO WORK!" Spy stroke his hand on the table just where Francis stood, but highly experienced rat shunned and retreated under the table.
"Hurry them, Francis!" Spy cried. He didn't see Francis but knew he was devouring each and every word. "We can't hold off the operation for too long! They can change access codes at any given time, and you'll have to do it all over again! You'll have to sneak back into research center to sniff everything out! IS IT CLEAR?!"
These words made usually unruffled Francis' right eyelid twitching. During their last visit to the Center personnel mistook him, Louie and Moe for runaway lab rats, and they had a fair amount of running and hiding before security lost their tracks. Withdrawal through boiler house and sewer system was ineffable all by itself…
"All right, Francis, keep on working. I know I can rely on you. But do your best to avoid repeating our microfilm affair! Don't let me down!" The Spy walked to the far end of the room.
Reminding of microfilm affair made both Francis' eyelids twitching. Most of all he wanted to refrain from repetition of that incident. Just think of it — their plans to capture thought-controlled jet tank were foiled by some gang of mice and chipmunks! It was a total failure. Thank goodness, their boss was a true master of his craft, and the prison walls didn't restrain him. Though after-pains remained…
"No, boss! That is, certainly, boss! I'll do my best, boss!" Francis murmured and ran to his group hideout to wait for Moe and Louie back from the mission. He could only hope that these duffers wouldn't bring any tails with them and get off with just a few bruises and grazes. One could never know for sure… Their base was hidden very well, though, and most of the time looked like any ordinary old warehouse, with all the observation and information gathering equipment rising from thoroughly camouflaged floor hatches for a brief time only. Never mind, soon their boss will be such a rich man, that they will never nestle in the warehouses and run through the sewers again. Life will be simply great!
