Rhode Island
The Sector Q Tree House
Current Prospectors Head Quarters
"No, no." Numbuh 49 said sternly. "The power convertor needs to be positioned minus to positive, not positive to minus."
Beside Numbuh 49, underneath a box like mechanism, the operative's twin brother, Numbuh 94 laid his back to the floor as he worked on the Tree House power grid. "I heard you the first time Big Brother." Numbuh 94 scoffed. "And I strictly mean in the Orwellian sense."
Numbuh 49 raised a brow slightly and shook his head. "Sometimes I think you're just making noises. And somehow you're able to make those noises sound like actual words."
"Read a book." Numbuh 94 rolled his eyes as he swapped the power converter around. "It'll do you wonders." Numbuh 94 hauled himself out from under the box and looked up to Numbuh 49. "Check it."
Numbuh 49 looked at the data pad in his hands and smirked. "Alright. It's green all across the board. Nice job."
Numbuh 94 prepared to reject his brother's congratulations, only to stop suddenly. In the corner of his eye, Numbuh 94 caught sight of a dark dressed boy their age. Both brothers turned to see their attention to their teammate walking firmly and with purpose past them.
"Hey Jonathan." Numbuh 49 waved to Numbuh 3:16.
Numbuh 3:16 waved back but kept on walking.
"Jeez…" Numbuh 94 muttered.
"Just give the guy his space." Numbuh 49 pointed his thumb down the hall. "C'mon. We got more work to do."
Numbuh 3:16 turned a corner and came face to face with their boss's new office. Numbuh 3:16 politely knock on the door, pausing briefly in-between knocks.
"Come in!" A voice called out from within.
Numbuh 3:16 reached for and turned the handle. He pushed inward and walked through the door frame. "Enjoying the new perks of leadership?" Numbuh 3:16 asked in a playful tone.
Before him sat a girl with long red hair in a ponytail with a welcoming smile. Numbuh C4, the elected leader of The Prospectors. Numbuh C4 smirked from behind her desk, spinning in her arm chair. "You haven't lived until you've sat in a swivel seat."
The pair shared a laugh. "So what can I do for you Jonathan?" Numbuh C4 asked. The face Numbuh 3:16 made was probably amusing to Carol. Before the formation of The Prospectors, he was a solo operative. Such informality was foreign to him. He would often speak with Numbuh 274 himself, call him 'sir' whenever he addressed him. He'd never called his priest by name either, simply 'father'.
"Yes, well…" Numbuh 3:16 trudged forward, hoping the pause hadn't made their conversation awkward at all. "You know of my mission, when I first came here to Rhode Island."
"You were in search of disappearing children. Am I correct?" Numbuh 3:16 nodded.
"I would like to continue my search before Global Command begins to look in on us. I fear I will no longer have the time to follow up on this case. The longer these children are missing, the more difficult they will be to locate." He said with passion.
"As you know, Jonathan, the full attention of The Prospectors is currently being spent retrofitting this decommissioned base." Numbuh C4 gestured to the tree house they stood in. "Global Command will be breathing down are necks if we're not up and running by the end of the week."
Numbuh 3:16 scratched his chin and thought for a moment. "The perhaps not the full attention of The Prospectors?" He said aloud. "I would need only myself and resources."
"What kind of resources? I hope not transportation." Numbuh C4 inquired, lightly referring to the number of rundown 2x4 transports in the hanger. "Those things are death traps until we've looked through them all."
"No, no I don't think my search will have me globetrotting anytime soon." Numbuh 3:16 lightly chuckled. "No, my sources led me here for a reason. I need only a guide of Rhode Island. By then I should wrap up this mystery and send those children home."
It was Numbuh C4's turn to think. It wasn't that she didn't want to find the kids, it was that they had a dead line to meet. But Numbuh C4 saw the importance of their work. They should be out there looking for the kids, not sitting around hammering nails into plywood. "Numbuh 832's making a fine recovery last time I checked. He might be able to use both arms now." Numbuh C4 shot Numbuh 3:16 a knowing look.
"And I just passed the twins outside, hard at work and making great time." Numbuh 3:16 contributed.
"Ok. Yeah. We'll make it work." Numbuh C4 nodded. "We can spare you and a guide."
"You know who I am implying, correct?" Numbuh 3:16 questioned.
"Numbuh 2030, Nolan." Numbuh C4 answered correctly. "I'll phone ahead, let him know you'll be seeing him soon. Maybe he'll be out of whatever funk he's in."
"Thank You, ma'am." Numbuh 3:16 smiled brightly.
"No need, Jon." Numbuh C4 waved at him. "You're doing good work. I'm sorry we all won't be backing you on this one."
"Do not worry." He said before waving goodbye. And with that, Numbuh 3:16 was out the door.
In the hangar, the only flight worthy 2x4 vessel landed. A helicopter with active camouflage technology. The rotors died and the pilot stepped out. Numbuh 2030 with his long jacket found himself in familiar territory. 'Good to be home', he thought to himself.
He shut the door behind him began his trek to his work station. After his emotion filled visit to the Museum, Nolan desperately needed to wall himself away from the rest of his team and just work on something. Perhaps he could rewire the tripwire alarm system so there'd be less alarms and more systems. It sounded like a plan. And he was sure everyone else wouldn't mind the 'less alarm' part.
Numbuh 2030 halted his pace at the thought. 'Everyone'. He wasn't alone anymore. He was thinking about others and how they felt just like when Sector Q was still a Sector, and not just a tree house.
He let out a thoughtful sigh. He'd best get back to work.
There was a ringing in his coat pocket. 'My P.I.P.E.R.', he thought. He dug in his pocket and withdrew the 2x4 communicator and answered. "This is Twenty-Thirty. Go ahead." He spoke into the receiver.
"Cool it Bond." A playful feminine voice spoke from the other line. "You sound so serious, you know."
"I see the weight of leadership has drowned your spirits yet, Carol." Numbuh 2030 said, unfazed by Numbuh C4's informal joking.
"Oh don't worry, it'll kick in as soon as I'm off my 'recently promoted' high." He could picture her laughing. "But until then, I need to get in all the friendship points before I start chopping everyone's chops."
"Wasn't there a reason you called? I hope not to warn me of your leadership skills. I've witnessed that first hand in Arctic Training." Numbuh 2030 said somewhat irritated.
"Oh was that an actual quip? Is this banter I hear?" She was definitely smiling on the other end. "Well, whatever you had planned today, I hope it wasn't important. You've been drafted."
"I didn't know I was eighteen." Numbuh 2030 said, unsure how to proceed with this given news.
"Wow, two in a row. You must be in a really crummy mood today." Carol's tone was still playful, but Numbuh 2030 could tell the shift in tone. She was actually genuinely concerned there at the end.
"The point, Carol?" He sighed.
"Numbuh 3:16 is in need of a guide. We've got missing children. He believes they're in Rhode Island. Think you're up to the task?"
Numbuh 2030 made no attempt to hide the irritation in his long winded sigh. "Yeah. Sure."
"Oh sweet now I don't have to feel guilty."
"You already told him I'd help didn't you?"
"Not exactly. We both just assumed you'd help."
"You assumed right. Twenty-Thirty out." He hung up.
Numbuh 2030 rounded a corner to his workshop, finding the boy in black himself standing outside. "Numbuh 3:16."
"Numbuh 2030." Numbuh 3:16 greeted Numbuh 2030. "There are children out there in need of our help."
"It's your show, pastor." Numbuh 2030 remarked. "What's our first step?"
"We hit the streets. View supposed abduction sites, speak with the children's parents."
Numbuh 2030 froze slightly at the mention of 'parents'. His mind traced back to what Numbuh 416's parents must have felt, finding the note he'd planted in his room. They'd be worried, devastated, emotional and incapable of closure. The parents of those children themselves would be in a very similar state, no doubt.
"No talking to parents." Numbuh 2030 stated firmly.
"May I inquire as to why we won't be making use of willing assistance?" Numbuh 3:16 raised a curious brow.
"Because we're kids. They won't talk to us. Not enough to take us seriously anyways." Numbuh 2030 said surely. "They'd have had to contact the police at some point. I'll just rip their statements out of whatever computer they're stored on."
"You can hack the police?" Numbuh 3:16 asked surprised.
"Just give me some time alone and I'll have something for us within the hour, ok?"
"I believe I should supervise, no?" Numbuh 3:16's lip began to curl into a smirk. "It is my show, after all."
Somewhere Dark and Devoid of Hope
Children hummed in dimly lit stone halls. They walked in single filed lines bare footed. Their eyes sagged and stared forward. There was only the line, going around and round in a circular hall. There was no laughter or any other childlike quality. Only institution under an invisible eye.
Not too far off, a man in dark brown robes, wearing a sack with two eye holes over his head, stood in silence. Flanking the man were two devil mask wearing men armed with shotguns.
The bag wearing man stood there, staring at the children. His eyes shifted, drawing on one in particular child who'd seemed to be lagging compared to the others.
"That one." The robed man pointed to the child.
The two masked men nodded and walked to the child, pulling him out of the line. The child did not kick or protest, his eyes were just devoid of everything.
The men set child before the robed man and forced him on his knees. "You." The robed man addressed the child. "What is your name?"
The child stared at the man. "I do not know, my name." The kid said in a monotone fashion.
"Your name is Malphas." The robed man declared. "Now what is your name?"
The child's eyes moved slightly. "My name is Malphas." He muttered.
"What are you, Malphas?" The robed man asked.
"I do not know, what I am." The child said in a similar monotone fashion.
"You are The Lesser." Said the robed man. "Now, what are you, Malphas?"
"I am The Lesser." He said without dispute.
"Now, who are you?" The robed man inquired.
"I am Malphas, The Lesser." The child declared.
"Now, what is your purpose, Malphas?" The man demanded.
"I do not know, my purpose." The child said, for the first time showing a little emotion, a feint hint of sadness.
"Here." The robed man produced a mask comprised of mix mashed burlap and wood. "Put on this mask. And all will become clear."
The child did as he was told and reached out. He claimed the mask and placed it over his face.
"Now, what is your purpose, Malphas?" The man demanded, his voice rising.
"To serve the Church of The Father." The child declared, his voice taking on a demonic tone.
"Very good." The robed man nodded. "Very good.