Chapter 4: The Day Goes On
After they had finished breakfast and cleaned up, looking out for cases was the next item on the agenda. Like most of the days, it started with a flight on the Rangerwing to the police station. The Rangers took their usual way into the building and to the ceiling fan above Sergeant Spinelli's desk. But the few files lying out were all closed.
"Well," Chip said, "looks like our police are good for more than gathering cases for us."
"Yes," Gadget replied, "they can sometimes solve their cases without our help."
Dale worried, "They aren't pushing us out of business, Chip, or are they?"
"How can they? They hardly know that we exist... with Monty's exception, of course." Chip watched his rotund teammate take his chance while the Sergeant was absent and snatch the cheese from his sandwich. This had grown into a part of their almost daily ritual. "No, they're just currently running low on crimes. Such things happen, and we can actually be glad about it."
"Aw, how boring." Dale yawned. "So we can stay here, and I'll have a nap 'til something happens, okay? Been up awfully early, y'know."
"Not okay, Dale. We'll do a patrol flight... well, as soon as Monty has finished emptying the mousetraps." Long ago, Chip had stopped wondering how Monty still had enough space inside for such quantities of cheese shortly after breakfast. Today, he simply took it as a fact.
Unseen by the officers and well fed with cheese, Monty made it back to the Rangers' secret entrance. "I'm ready ta go when you are, mates!" he shouted. The other Rangers followed him to the roof of the police station where the Rangerwing waited for them.
The city almost seemed quiet, although it was as busy as usually. Gadget almost drained the Rangerwing's batteries to the critical mark on the several-hour patrol flight, but there wasn't one single crime to investigate, not one single human or animal in need of rescue. So the Rangers headed back to the park and the Headquarters.
"Gadget," Chip requested, "can we do a little detour to the restaurant? I'd like to book a table for tonight." The lack of action had allowed his mind to return to the special event he was so looking forward to. And like always, Chip preferred everything being thoroughly planned.
"Sure," Gadget answered, "the batteries have enough power for another landing and take-off and taking us back to the Headquarters." She slightly changed the direction towards the restaurant where the Rangerwing touched down a few minutes later. But the Rangers were not alone when they entered the restaurant. Two rats were already there, and they didn't only look like crooks, judging by the way they were interacting with the owner of the place.
"Okay, dis is da deal," one of the rats said. "You'se pays fer yer protection, an' we protect ya."
"Protect me from what?" the owner asked.
"From us, fer example," the other rat replied.
"But what shall I pay with? I've got no money. In our part of society, no money is needed." He was right. Money was only used by the underworld and those who strove for belonging to it. Besides, the animals had no currency of their own, if they used any money, it was human coins.
"Aw, what a pity," the first rat said again before his tone got a lot firmer. "In 24 hours, you'se gots da money, or else..."
"Or else what?" Monty shouted. The Rescue Rangers had watched the whole scene, and now it was time for doing something. The rats turned around and saw the Rangers stand there. "Who's gonna protect ya from us?" Monty snarled, clenching his fists.
"You'd better listen to what he says," Chip advised them, "and leave this restaurant now and forever."
"Now and forever! How funny!" The rats laughed for a few seconds before they charged towards the Rangers.
They were tough, but Monty was tougher. His experience in street-fighting, jungle-fighting, outback-fighting and fighting in many more surroundings was his advantage. He who could easily take on Fat Cat—a fact which makes one wonder why he's still afraid of cats—had no difficulties with disposing of the rats by throwing them through the door after a short fight.
Despite their treatment from Monty, they didn't give up and came in once more. "Strike me starkers," Monty commented, "looks like ya 'aven't 'ad enough yet. Ready fer the second round?" The rats answered by attacking him once more—just to be thrown out once more. This time, they decided to leave the restaurant in peace and walked or rather limped away.
The restaurant owner was glad that the Rangers had appeared just in time to save his place from being partially dismantled. "Heaven must have sent you folks! These crooks have stalked me for some days now. How can I ever thank you for what you've done?"
He shook hands with Chip who answered, "You don't have to reward us for that. See, we're the Rescue Rangers, and this is our task. Well, one of them. But there's indeed something, the reason why we've come here. I'd like to book a table for two for tonight."
"Sure, there shouldn't be that much going on. What time exactly?" The owner gave Gadget a glance, guessing correctly who will accompany Chip this evening.
"7:30," Chip replied.
"7:30? No problem, no problem at all."
Chip smiled. "See, now I have to thank you." And leaving the place with the other Rangers, Chip added, "See you in a few hours!"
On the Rangers' way back to the Headquarters, Chip was glad that they had finally done their good deed and helped someone in need of help. In fact, it was only Monty who had done something, but the leader of the Rescue Rangers knew their muscle-mouse well enough by now to figure that he did it in the name of the whole team. However, Chip's satisfaction was mixed with excitement. He was finally going to have a date with Gadget. She had accepted his invitation, they even had a table booked at a restaurant, and the weather was fine. Only he could cancel the date, and he was too happy about it to waste a single thought on backing down. No, he had waited for this date since the Rangers went on their second case. Something very unusual and very important would have to happen to make him annul it.
The battery power had been notably fading away for the last two minutes of the flight, but the Rangerwing made it safely to the Headquarters. Chip helped Gadget get it into the hangar where she connected it to her self-made battery charger. She had switched from one-way batteries to rechargeable batteries a while ago, so the Rangers didn't have to get new batteries and dispose of the old ones every few days of usage.
"I should really invent a special rechargeable battery for the Rangerwing," Gadget said, still holding the wires in her hands. "As far as I know, I've got most of the parts I'll need at hand."
Concerned about the operability of the Rangers' most important vehicle, and struggling for something to talk about with Gadget, Chip asked, "What kind of changes will that battery bring?"
"Oh, when I stay with the weight of three standard batteries so I won't have to recalibrate the Rangerwing's hover controls, I can increase the charge by an estimated 59 so we won't have to recharge that often. The life cycle will be extended, too, as this battery will allow maintenance." Chip was delighted while Gadget went on talking her technobabble, not only because this modification would improve the Rangers' mobility, but also because he loved to listen to Gadget's voice.
When she finished her rant, she left for her workshop. "Gotta start working on it before I lose my ideas. You know where I am when you need me."
Chip watched her go. He watched her with a bit of worries. What if she simply forgot about the date while inventing? There had been nights which she spent in her workshop because she couldn't sleep. But there had as well been nights which she spent in her workshop because she couldn't stop working on one of her inventions. When the other Rangers found her asleep among tools and parts and waked her up, she told them that she didn't want to leave her recent invention alone before she hadn't fixed this and solved that problem, and then she continued working. They had to bring her breakfast to her workshop, especially the coffee so that she didn't fall asleep again.
And sleeping at night was certainly more important than going out on a date. Chip wondered if Gadget thought so, too. Because if she did, it could get hard to pry her off her work.
However, he decided not to worry too much. Instead, he got himself one of his Sureluck Jones novels and sat down on the couch. He had already read that particular one half a dozen times, but every time he read these novels again, he found new details and learned more about the work of a detective which was astonishing, considering the knowledge he had gathered so far.
The Headquarters were silent now. Monty and Zipper were out to refill the supplies in the kitchen, and Dale had gone flying his hang glider with Foxglove. The only noises which made it to Chip's ears were the ticking of the watches mounted on the walls, Gadget working on the battery or whatever she had decided to work on instead, and the pounding of his own heart. What excited him was not the novel, he knew the outcome. It was rather the expectation. He was to go on a date with Gadget, the girl of his dreams. He was finally about to go on a date with Gadget. Just him and her and none of the other Rangers.
'No, I won't make myself crazy,' he thought. 'Hm... maybe I should get something from one of the local libraries.' There was still a lot of time before the date. 'Nah, I'd better stay here.' He picked up the Sureluck Jones again and went on reading. In between discovering new details, thoughts crossed his mind like, 'I wonder what Sureluck Jones' first date was like.' But he figured that it would be pointless to compare. Sureluck Jones was a human in Victorian London while he was a chipmunk in 1990's New York City. He didn't even have Sureluck's attire, he had left it behind at Baskerville Hall.
Chip remembered once more what he and the Rangers had done after that case. Macduff had given them the finished manuscript of the last Sureluck Jones novel. Chip had felt honored, but on second thought, he decided against keeping it. It would have been a bit too large to keep it at the Headquarters or at least to haul it across the Atlantic. Besides, he wasn't the only Sureluck Jones fan in the world, and what would they say when they found out that the only specimen of this novel was in the hands of a chipmunk? Besides, wouldn't that be too selfish for the one who led the Rescue Rangers?
The next day, when the rain had stopped, the Rangers had wrapped the manuscript up and sent it to the same publishing house in London which had published the original editions of all other Sureluck Jones novels together with a note from the Rangers themselves. Instead of the manuscript, Chip kept some clippings from both human and rodent newspapers about the formerly unknown novel which had appeared out of nowhere and a rodent-sized edition of the book, printed by a staff of mice in the same publishing house, all of them descendants of those who had produced the rodent-sized editions of all other Sureluck Jones novels. He was sure that this was the best to do.
This reminded him of something. He brought the Sureluck Jones back to his room and got another book. It had been sent to him and arrived a few days ago—from Kingston-on-Hull in England. A letter which came with it revealed the story behind this book. A young squirrel who was a Sureluck Jones fan, too, had written it. But it was no Sureluck Jones fan novel, it was a Rescue Rangers adventure. This guy had researched and researched to find out whatever he could about the Rangers and turned it into a novel which he had printed then. He had kept the first specimen, and he had sent the second one to the original Rangers to thank them for the last Sureluck Jones novel.
'Let's see if this guy has researched thoroughly enough and written us at least roughly in-character.' Chip opened the book and started reading. To his surprise and amazement, it sent the Rangers onto a thrilling case in London's Eastend and the ruins of the Docklands. They were certainly well-known, judging from how close their fictional selves were to their real selves. And the author had just as certainly read masses of criminal novels from several authors, many of whose styles Chip was able to detect in the story. He himself had read a lot more than just Sureluck Jones, but the Victorian detective was still his favorite. Nevertheless, or maybe because of it, this fan creation packed him. It did not only have a lot of suspense, but it also showed a unique atmosphere, partly due to the British English, spiced up with some dialogs in authentic Cockney rhyming slang. This wasn't Howard Bask's feudal Victorian London, this was the modern world of the working class and the decaying remains of the early industrial era behind the veil of the English rain and the just as typical fog.
Again, Gadget's voice called him back to reality. "Chip, are you ready?"