By Galaxy1001D
Chapter Four: Phonecall with MomKim Possible and other Disney characters are © Disney Co. Admiral Sandecker and NUMA © Clive Cussler and Sandecker, RLLLP. Professor Farnsworth and the deep-sea suppositories are properties of Matt Greoning and David X. Cohen.
Kim was on the cordless phone babbling incoherently to her mother while searching for clean mission clothes up in her attic bedroom. "Mom, Monique says that I'm Em-I-Dee, and that I'm crushing on Ron, and that since we've been through combat together, we're closer to each other than anyone else, and that he could be the one, and…and…I'm going to get stuck with Ron!"
"I don't see what the problem is, Kimmy," said her mother's soothing voice through the distortion of the phone lines. "Ron's a very nice boy."
"But he's such a flake!" whined the redheaded teen. "He's a lazy slacker who takes credit for my deeds and lets it go to his head!"
"He's your best friend, honey," retorted Mrs. Dr. Possible, giving the motherly sigh guaranteed to induce guilt. If Kim didn't know better, her mother was attempting to use the puppydog pout over the phone.
"Yes!" Kim agreed. He's a great friend! He's my best friend."
"But not boyfriend material," scolded the lady brain surgeon.
"Yes! That's right!" Kim said as she struggled to get her black top over her head while talking on the cordless. "So not boyfriend material."
"Why not?" Her mother asked the trick question.
"I don't know," groaned Kim as she found a pair of cargo pants. "He's just…Ron. He's the brother I never had!"
"Honey, you have Jim and Tim," her mother retorted.
"Those are the brothers I did have," corrected Kim. "Ron is the brother I wanted to have. It's creepy to think of him in a boyfriend way."
"Your father thinks it's creepy for you think of anyone that way," her mother teased.
"Mom! Not helping!" Kim scolded as she changed her pants.
"Romance is creepy," her mother insisted, "Especially if you're the parent of a teenage daughter. That's why it's so sweet that you're crushing on Ron."
"Mom!" She protested. "I am so not crushing on Ron!"
"Then what are you doing?" Again, a trick question.
"I-I don't know," Kim stammered as she found her shoes. "I just don't like all of the attention he's getting at school! He never has time for me, that's all…"
"Kimmy, he's been your boyfriend before," the Possible matriarch pointed out.
"Mom!" Kim protested. "That was in second grade! I had to wrestle him to the ground and pin his arm behind his back before he'd agree to be my boyfriend! That doesn't count!"
"Well, just wrestle him to the ground again, honey," her mom teased. "A lot of time has passed. Who knows? He might like it this time."
"Mom!" Her daughter cried. "Hurl factor reaching critical!"
"Hand me that clamp," her mother said. "Let's stop the bleeding and then get ready to close."
"Mom?" A feeling of dread replaced Kim's outrage. "Do you have me on speakerphone?"
"Hi Kim!" came a chorus over the phone. Everyone in the operating room had heard the entire conversation.
"Sorry, honey," her mother apologized. "But hands free is the only way to go. At least I make time for my baby no matter how busy I am."
"Ohh," Kim groaned.
A masculine voice came one the line: "Look, Kim, you have to figure out how you feel about him, and then tell him. Anybody who can save the world should be mature enough to handle what you have to say, right?"
"Oh yes, that's right, Doctor Harrington," stammered Kim. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry, baby, but I've got to hang up," said her mother. "Bye-bye, good luck on the mission. Try to get back in time for dinner. Dad's bringing home pizza!"
The National Underwater and Marine Administration was a civilian government agency that scientifically studied the sea the way that NASA studied space. Just as NASA had a strange marriage with the Air Force, NUMA was riddled with many specialists who used to be in the Navy. Admiral Sandecker, the founder and head of NUMA was usually in Washington lobbying for political and financial support of oceanography even thought he had retired from the Navy decades ago. Since some of NUMA's specialists and divers had gotten involved in saving the world from megalomaniacs from time to time, Admiral Sandecker was understanding and willing to help two young world saving heroes "just starting out."
Fifty miles east of the isle of Bermuda, the NUMA submersible research vessel Argos sailed over the Atlantic trench. The massive vessel was the first non-navy submarine to feature a bastardized version of the Soviet caterpillar drive that in theory made an underwater craft as quiet as a blue whale. The idea was to prevent the vibrations from the science vessel's engines from affecting the strange marine life at this incredible depth, but Team Stoppable was hoping it would allow them to sneak up on Drakken's undersea lair undetected.
"Thanks for the lift, Admiral Sandecker," said Ron, his naked mole rat perched on his shoulder.
"Well, my boy," said the bearded officer. "It's the least I could do after your naked mole-rat repaired the navigational system of the Neptune."
"Oh, that?" said Ron. "It was no big. He fixed my Z-boy when it got a spike once."
Rufus chirped proudly.
"I still don't see how you expect to survive the pressure of this depth," said the retired Admiral. "I wasn't able to get a hold of the Navy's deep pressure suits in time."
"Deep pressure suits, deep pressure suits," Ron mused. "Oh, you mean the big ones with the clamps that look like a cross between a space suit and a giant robot?
Sandecker laughed. "That's right. How are you going to survive the pressure? Doctor Drakken won't just let us dock up to his base, you know."
"Um, yeah," murmured Ron. "Kim's working on that. Kim?"
"Wade," Kim hissed into her Kimmunicator. "NUMA couldn't get the suits. What do we do?"
On the screen of the device was a tubby Afro-American preteen in a bedroom full of computers. "I had a hunch something like this would happen," He stated with a maturity that seemed impossible for his ten years. "Check your backpack."
Kim found a canister the size of a can of peaches. When she opened it, she poured three black spheres into her hand. Two were about the size of golf balls. The third was the size of a small marble. "What are these?" She asked. Ron, Sandecker and Rufus stood behind her and attempted to listen in.
"Professor Farnsworth designed them for NUMA." The boy leaned close enough to his webcam that even Sandecker in the back could see the freckles on his milk chocolate colored skin. "They're highly experimental. These pellets are designed to protect you from both the ocean pressure and the bends."
"Um, not to complain or anything, Wade," said Kim with concern. "But if the big ones are for Ron and me and the little one is for Rufus, how do you expect us to swallow them?"
Wade's face became apologetic. "That's the bad news, guys," he said has he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "You don't swallow them. They're suppositories."
Kim turned pale. Rufus squeaked in alarm. Ron scratched his head. "Suppositories? That's a school word, I should know this one…" Rufus whispered in his ear. "What?" he exclaimed. "You mean we have to shove it up our…" The naked mole rat nodded sadly. "Eep," Ron squeaked.
Next: Drakken's Underwater Lair