Zette's Storybook

One



"I think we're going down," Apache said with a shrug.

Baby looked out the window of the small, two-seater plane as one of the propellers stopped. An endless canopy of African jungle stretched out as far as she could see.

"Well this is terrific," Baby said.

The right engine sputtered again and Apache pulled hard at the controls, gaining them a few more feet.

"Stop going up, you fool." Baby jabbed at her sister, as though Apache wasn't paying attention. "It only means we'll have farther to fall."

"Stop that." Apache pulled up again, despite Baby's sound of exasperation. Or maybe because of it. Apache often reacted that way to her younger sister. "Check the radio again."

Baby leaned forward and played with buttons. "Open Channel D. UNCLE, are you there? Kirk to Spock -- beam us up, you fool!" She shook her head and leaned back again. "Dead as a Dalek."

"Don't go weird on me now."

"Go weird? This is no time for humor. Aren't we getting lower?"

"Yes. Look for an airport."

Baby leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. After a moment's calm, she took hold of the co-pilot's controls and set about helping her sister again.

"Any idea where we are, Apache?"

"Certainly. We're lost over the jungles of Africa." Both engines sputtered and died, leaving them -- for a very short time -- gliding. "Hell. Now it's going to be lost in the jungles of Africa."

"You are such a help. And a pillar of optimism, too."

"Comes from working with you for too long."

"I doubt that's something either of us will have to worry about much longer."

For once Apache didn't argue with her. Baby couldn't be certain if this was one of those rare moments when they agreed, or if it was just that the plane had started skimming along the top of the trees, making any discussion kind of pointless.

Baby gritted her teeth against the sound of metal tearing, but she and Apache did a good job of slowing the plane-- or at least as good a job as they were likely to do. This wasn't the first time they'd crashed, and they had picked up a few tricks along the way... although, thinking about it, she wondered why they kept at it. Surely they could find some safer way to travel.

Although maybe not. Walking hadn't been too lucky for her, either. In the last month walking had gotten them into a forest fire and an earthquake. Boats sank. Cars crashed.

Hell, even sitting in her apartment flirted with disaster. The bombs. The invasion of the mutant butterflies with bodies the size of...

Best not to think about that one right now. She gratefully turned her attention back to the current disaster as the plane decided it might have better luck flying if it turned upside down. Unfortunately, the wings rather hampered this attempt. So the plane jolted viciously as first one wing and then the other tore free. Baby had a momentary vision of dark and green as the body raced on before a mass of trees and vines caught and held on for a long, heart pounding moment as forward motion met a mostly unmovable object. The plane bounced backwards, turned sideways and rolled upright again before stopping.

Silence. No creature stirred in the aftermath of the noise. Baby twisted painfully in her harness and looked back at her sister. Apache breathed, though she hung limply.

"Wake up," Baby said. "We're going for a nice walk."

"Walk?" Apache said, her eyes blinking. "With you? Are you crazy?"

"What is this, state the obvious day? Yes, I'm crazy. So are you. Let's go for a walk. No hold it. First we have to go climb a tree."

"Climb a tree?"

"Well, climb down from a tree, at least," Baby said. She peered out over the nose of the craft and frowned again. "How do you feel?"

"A bit blurred along the edges," Apache said as she began to unhook her harness. "And you?"

"Bruised and battered, but no worse than after our last two assignments. Speaking of which, do grab the briefcase behind you. I'd hate to have to climb back up for it again."

"Your devotion to the job is starting to annoy me," Apache said. But she did retrieve the case and hand it to Baby. "There."

"Thanks." Baby threw it out the window and listened. It hit the ground with a solid thunk. "Good. You next."

Apache gave her a wary look, but she did allow Baby to help push her out through the broken window. Apache did not make any encouraging sounds at all.

"Damn. No Taco Bell in sight," Apache said as she finally squirmed the rest of the way out. "Hell, I'd settle for something resembling a building at this point."

Baby sighed and followed her sister, squirming out of the window and onto the nose of the plane. It began to tilt a bit, so Apache slid off and into the branches, slowly working her way down the twenty or so feet to the ground below. It didn't look like a particularly difficult climb, though Apache had obviously hurt her wrist and that slowed her a bit. However, she eventually made it down and stood there looking back up.

"Well? Are you coming down?"

"I think I'll just wait here for a while."

"Why?"

"Because there's a rather large puff adder stalking our briefcase."

Apache looked around, snarled something, and grabbed the briefcase, swinging it against the head of the snake. To say it looked stunned would be an understatement. But then again, Apache often slugged sharks, so Baby wasn't particularly surprised.

Baby slid off the side of the plane, caught a vine, and slid down with ease. Apache looked at the vine suspiciously, as though she suspected Baby had purposely put it there.

"I just watched more Tarzan movies than you did," Baby said. "There's always a handy vine. What now?"

"Change for dinner," Apache said, brushing glass from her torn clothing. "There's our suitcase."

"Ah good!" Baby said, limping over to the suitcase. "Huh. Plane is ripped to pieces. The luggage is intact. Give me the key."

"I don't have the key. Don't tell me you left it at the hotel."

"I put them on your nightstand, as always, hermana mia. Don't talk to me about leaving it behind. That was your job."

"It was my job to leave the key behind?" Apache asked.

"Obviously. You did excellent at it, too." She mumbled some other things as she drew her knife and began prying at the edge of the suitcase.

"What was that, Morning Glory?" Apache said.

"Nothing." Grumble. "Do you have a bobby pin?"

"No."

Grumble some more.

"I give you permission to cut it to shreds if you can get to my clothing."

"Thank you!" Baby tore open the top of the suitcase with one quick, swift cut. "That does wonders for my frustration level."

"I bet." Apache began to pull bits of clothing from the case -- literally bits for the first few pieces, since Baby's enthusiastic knifing of the case had gone a little too deep.

The first thing she pulled out in one piece turned out to be her footed bunny pjs. She considered them for a long moment, but then sat them aside. Baby tried not to look relieved. The thought of following her sister around the jungle in that kind of clothing... Well, even she would have thought twice about it.

She found her own clothing -- a loose, long sleeved shirt and jeans. Apache pulled out clothing of much the same style. They dressed quickly and Baby used part of her already tattered and discarded shirt to bandage a cut in her side and her arm.

"Can you cut some of that up to wrap around my wrist?" Apache asked.

"Sure," Baby said, and sliced not only the shirt, but her old blue jeans as well. "Broken?"

"Nah. Maybe cracked, but most likely just sprained."

"Who do we go to and complain about all of this?" Baby asked, waving her knife around. Apache stepped back. "We work or the aliens, right? They ought to have some fancy technology to help us out."

"So call them on that fancy cell phone that never seems to go out of contact."

Baby looked at her.

"Ah. On the nightstand with the keys?"

"Right."

"Well that would have been just too easy, wouldn't it?" Apache said. She looked around, not particularly upset by the lack of a phone. "I wonder if whoever shot at us back there is working for the other side, and if they have special equipment that might make it easier for them to find us."

"How safe do you figure we are?" Baby asked.

"Right now I'd say that surviving the jungle is probably the least of our problems."

Baby nodded agreement, not in the least bit happy, though she did know they were lucky that both had survived the crash in relatively good shape. They stood side-by-side for a moment and surveyed the wreckage.

"Which way?" Apache asked at last.

"Towards the setting sun," Baby said with a wave of her arm -- though not in the proper direction, of course. She didn't want to make it too easy for Apache.

"Why?"

"Because it sounds more poetic than 'flip a coin."

"True," Apache conceded. She must have still been rattled by the crash. She never agreed to anything Baby said. "I wish we'd had time to pick up a few things before we stole the plane and escaped. A map would have been nice about now."

"Too easy, like the phone. How far do you think we are from a city?"

"Well, the closest one is about 200 miles away. Unfortunately, that's also the one place we really shouldn't try to go back to, not with the police after us as well."

"I still opt for the west," Baby said.

"Fine by me," Apache said. Rattled, beyond a doubt. "Let's see how far we can get before dark."

"Gladly. If our friends are still looking for us, they likely won't have much trouble finding the plane, but I really don't intend to be waiting here for them... well, not unless we find a nice arsenal near by."

Apache agreed yet again. By morning she would be herself and then they would head northeast, or north by northwest -- or some other equally obscure direction. For now, though, they just walked.






Two



Day One:

"We can make at least five miles before the sun sets," Baby said. Apache nodded, though she had noted that her sister had slowed quite a bit and limped worse with each step. Baby wasn't going to make it far without rest.

Apache growled as she stared at Baby. The aftershock of the crash had begun to catch up with her. Her head ached, and the idea of being lost in the jungles of Africa with her sister was not exactly the most exciting future she could have imagined.

Apache's mind raced through all sorts of ideas for mayhem when they returned to the Office. Allan would pay for this one, even if this wasn't his fault.

Long damn day...



Day Two:



"I don't know, Apache, but does it seem to you that the jungle is getting worse? Thicker?"

Apache growled her agreement and watched as Baby leaned on her makeshift cane, moving ahead into the underbrush again. Something moved in the brush beside Apache, but when she turned a glare and growl in that direction, it quickly slithered away.

And she didn't think much of the berries, either.



Day Three:

"Hey!" Baby exclaimed, startling Apache out of her dreams of murder. "Isn't tomorrow your birthday?"

She bared her teeth at that one, and Baby sort of slithered off into the jungles as well. And damn those berries, anyway... but she sure hoped they found a few more soon...



Day Four:

They stood on the banks of a wide, shallow, and slow moving river. On their side a covering of growth, thick with mosquitoes, wound all the way down to the riverbank. However, across the river stood a wide expanse of grassy savannah. Giraffe heads rose in the distance amid a stand of denuded trees. A few okapi -- looking like a strange combination of zebra and giraffe -- drank along the far edge, and in the water sat four hippopotami, birds skimming along the surface around them. In the distance, Apache could see mountains rising high into the sky.

"Well, this is luck!" Baby said, smiling brightly.

"The river is luck?" Apache asked, stunned into coherent syllables.

"Well, it would be better if there were some sheep," Baby said with a nod.

"Huh?"

"Pretend those antelope are sheep."

"Have you gone nuts?"

"The birds, see them?"

"I thought you had your malaria shots. Or was that the rabies?"

"Just look across the river, will you please," Baby said with such indignation that Apache did so.

"All right. I'm looking."

"See the animals?"

"Yeah."

"The Hippo... birdies... two ewe... hippo birdies --"

Apache growled and reached for her sister. Baby leapt into the water and swam for her life. By the time Apache had caught up with her, they had reached the far side, and she was too exhausted to do more than kick at her as they crawled to a spot where they could both rest. Baby rolled away and sat up.

"So, How does it feel to be old?"

"Don't push me. Your day is coming."

"Ha. This is the first time you've actually talked to me since the crash. Grumble, grumble, growl, growl, growl. No wonder we've had no problems with predators."

"Don't press your luck, Morning Glory Sangre."

"Look, have I complained about anything? Like the fact that you crashed us into the jungles of Africa and forgot the damned cell phone?"

"Maybe you would have preferred to walk out of that ambush? Who was it thought we ought to take this assignment, anyway?"

"We both did, or we wouldn't be here now."

Apache growled.

"Don't start that again. I'll have to believe in lycanthropes again, and you remember where that led in the past. So, up river or down?"

"I thought we were heading west."

"Did you lose one of your two working brain cells in the crash? You know there are always settlements along riverbanks. Up or down?

"Down. Maybe we can make a raft and float part of the way. For now let's just walk. I think we can make the base of those hills before sunset."

Baby nodded and struggled back to her feet, Apache doing the same. The journey didn't seem to be getting any shorter. But at least it had been relatively calm. She kicked off her shoes and shoved them into her pants pockets -- bulky, but better than walking through the sandy riverside with grit in her shoes.

By the way Baby concentrated on every step, she knew her sister wouldn't be going much farther on foot. With that in mind, she began to look for material with which she could make a raft. She had seen a lot of limbs and vines and such... on the other side of the river.

She turned to snarl at her sister, and changed her mind, though not out of kindness. She just finally remembered that Baby had the only knife between them, and she knew how to use it... creatively. Instead she moved on, listening to the sounds around them and wishing for something human. Anything.

That turned out to be a bad mistake. She forgot that the Gods tended to listen to her at the entirely wrong times.








Three



They reached the rocky foothills just as the sun touched the highest peak. The river had grown wild with cataracts, and not far in the distance Baby could hear the sound of a real waterfall. Probably a big one, she suspected.

Apache started up the giant boulders, obviously in hopes of finding some crevice where they might take cover for the night. Baby reluctantly followed, less than sure-footed on the loose, damp rock. She said nothing, having gone far beyond tired.

"I can see a cave," Apache called down from a few yards ahead.

"Great. Do make sure there's nothing waiting for us on the inside," Baby said, and scrambled up to join her. After all, she did have the knife, though Apache probably wouldn't need one, the mood she was in.

They stepped forward in unison, a movement that went beyond training to a lifetime spent together, always on the edge of some danger. And, as Baby expected, she saw a hint of movement at the cave's edge. As the sun glinted red through one final pass in the mountains, three figures slipped from the shadows of the cave.

Three men. Three tall, blond haired, blue-eyed men who stared at the two of them with just about as much shock as they did looking back.

And then, as the three stepped farther into the light, Baby saw that they wore clothing made of furs and hides, sewn with crude needles. They held spears of wood tipped in gold as bright as their hair, and their shields of wood liked inlaid with the design of a griffon, the other two with dragons.

Apache looked at them, so stunned that she just shook her head as though to clear it of the vision. "Listen," she finally said, looking at all three. "Someone here is lost, and I sure as hell at least know I'm in Africa. I get the feeling you can't say the same."

They spoke quickly among themselves, a swift succession of words that Baby did her best to follow, though she only understood one word in ten, at best.

"Vikings?" Apache asked, looking sideways at her sister.

"No, I'd say a lost Celtic tribe. I caught three words that they said."

"And those words were?"

"Slave, kill and woman."

Apache turned back to the three. "Gentlemen, I am afraid that we are going to argue."

The middle of the three stepped forward, regarding Baby's knife with a grin. He held out his hand and waved his fingers. Dust filled the air, sweet for a moment... as Baby and Apache fell.

Apache was going to be pissed...





Four



Hippo birdies two ewe, hippo birdies two ewe...

Apache rolled over onto her side and finding her arms bound behind her, kicked Morning Glory instead.

"Hey!" Baby complained. "What was that for?"

"I'm in no mood for your stupid jokes."

"My, you woke up on the wrong side of the rock, didn't you?" Baby said.

Apache managed to sit up and look around the dimly lit hole they'd been thrown into. She didn't exactly appreciate the décor, and the fact that her head still spun from whatever drug they'd given her didn't help at all.

"This is the pits," Apache said.

Baby kicked her. She deserved it, too. But it had been worth it to say it just once.

"Can you sit up, Baby? Maybe you can untie my hands. With my wrist injured, I'm going to need both hands free to get you loose."

While Baby fought her way into a sitting position, Apache rolled a little to get a clearer view of their prison. Light flickered and danced across the bare stonewalls. The light source stood far above them on a ledge. From the bruised, aching feel of her entire body, she assumed they had been dropped over the edge. Not exactly gentlemen.

"All right. I've done all the work of sitting up," Baby said. "Think you could manage to at least snake a little closer to me?"

"Snake. Puff Adder. Where's the briefcase?"

"What a wonderfully warped brain you have," Baby said. "They appear to have kept the briefcase with them. Let's hope they don't figure out how to get it open, or decide to cut into it."

"Go boom?" Apache asked as she slid closer.

"Go big boom. And I don't want to be caught in a cave in with our impolite companions for the rest of our lives. Short lives."

Baby leaned backward as Apache slid into place, and her fingers moved quickly over the knots. In a moment the ropes fell away.

Apache rolled over and brought her hands forward, rubbing her rope burnt wrists before she untied her sister. Apache noticed for the first time that her sister sat with bother legs tucked close to her.

"They took your leg brace."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed that," she said, rubbing at her own wrists now. Apache sat up, glad to find that most of the effects of the drug had finally worn off. She did have a headache, though. She thought it might not be the drug's fault.

"Someone is going to be unhappy that they messed with us," Apache said as she looked upward again.

"Yeah, probably us. As usual."

She couldn't argue that point. "Think you can climb out of this?"

Baby crawled over to the wall and examined it. "It's pretty rough work. I would say a pitiful attempt at hole digging, but then you'd kick me. So I won't." Apache glared. "We shouldn't have too much trouble. Obviously a low tech civilization."

"I don't want to think about that part."

"Neither do I, really. Grab those ropes. They're the only weapons we have at the moment. Except for a few tricks that we're still wearing," Baby said, patting her shirt.

"Right."

Apache gathered up the ropes. By the time she turned back around, her sister had already started up the side of the pit. It didn't take her long at all. At the top, Baby looked around and then pulled herself out.

Apache scrambled up as well. Her wrist had begun to feel better over the last couple days, but the pressure of climbing brought surges of pain that made her curse under her breath. She reached the top and Baby hauled her over the edge.

They'd reached a small passageway that led off into the smoky darkness. She could hear sounds somewhere ahead now. Baby stood, a hand to the wall, and slipped forward to the edge of the first curve. A smoky torch lit the area, casting shadows across everything. Apache wished the world would stay still for a moment or two.

They followed the corridor down toward the sounds though she really didn't want human companionship. Sounds carried far into the stone passages, deceptive in distance. They went at least a quarter of a mile, and the human voices didn't seem measurably louder. The corridor's walls, although still crudely carved, sometimes had an emblem worked into the stone. The floor, however, had been worn smooth by the passage of feet down through time. She couldn't guess how long these people had been here.

Apache really really didn't want to think about that part, and wondered if banging her head against the wall would help.







Five



Baby spotted a small alcove and pulled her sister into the shadows where they could rest for a moment. Her leg ached. Her head ached. Her mind...

"This place is old, Apache," she said running her hand over a symbol she recognized from studies. "Very old. I don't know what the hell they're doing here, though."

"And you know, it doesn't bode well for us that no one's found them," Apache added. "They have absolutely no modern technology. From what I can tell, the caves have been carved with stone implements."

"I thought the same thing," Baby said. "I'd feel all superior right now if you and I ever bothered with some of the technology that would have gotten us out of this mess. You know, like those gun things."

"Wouldn't matter, we wouldn't use them. And they'd probably have gotten them too, since they took our knives."

"And the damned briefcase, which I am not leaving without."

"Why?" Apache asked. "Aside from the fact that they could blow themselves to hell. I'm not feeling very magnanimous right now."

"Yeah, well... I'm afraid I have a more personal reason. It's another one of those things I just hate to put down on a report and then have to try to explain. No sir, we didn't leave the case at the crash. It might have fallen into the wrong hands. Actually, we lost it when we were captured by a tribe of blond Celtic warriors and taken to their lost underground city."

"Ah. I'm getting out of this business. It's too hard when the truth's weirder than any lie we could make up. Where do you think we'll find the briefcase?"

"With the people, of course," Baby said.

"And we're going to get it back, how?"

"By being daring, resourceful..."

"Lucky."

"Yeah, that too." Baby looked back out of the alcove and nodded. "Let's go."

The sounds of people finally began to grow louder. They relied on hand signals instead of speaking, and that brought them right up to the area of habitation. Baby thought the tribe might be shrinking, considering how much ground they'd covered without seeing anyone.

When she heard someone approaching, she pulled Apache back to the shadows again, and they worked their way into the first indentation they could find, staying very still in the darkness.

Four men went by, intent on their own conversation. In a couple moments they turned a corner and their voices muted again.

"They're headed for the pit," Baby whispered. "We won't have much time before they sound the alarm."

"We could try to take them out first," Apache said.

"We could, but I don't know if it will do us any good. They were going to retrieve us. That means we're expected somewhere."

"Ah. And we don't want to be late, do we?" Apache said, standing straighter again.

Baby grinned. "No, we don't. What have you got in supplies?"

"Three gas pellet buttons, one screamer, and sleep gas ring. You?

"Two flashers, a screamer, and two more gas pellets. Oh, and an exploding hair tie," she said, touching her braid.

"Well, that should make quite an impression," Apache said.

She was right...







Six



The majority of the tribe appeared to be in a long, narrow eating hall. A hearth stood at the far end of the room, and the people roamed around from spot to spot, trading food and conversation. It would have looked like a normal little gathering, if they hadn't been dressed in furs... when they were dressed at all.

"Seventy-three, counting the four who should be coming up behind us at any time now," Baby said. "And I see the suitcase. Their leader appears to be sitting on it. And she doesn't look likely to give it up easily, either."

Apache looked until she found the tall, amazon of a woman. Great. They needed more trouble. "The good thing is it's an enclosed area," Apache said. A gas pellet will do real well in there. I think we can cut the number of them in half that way."

"Oh yeah, thirty-six or thirty-seven rather than seventy-three... much better," Baby said. She pulled a pellet of her own from the embroidery on her shirt. "A little smoke -- going to make it hard for us, but mark where the queen bee is sitting. If she's panicked, she ought to leave the briefcase."

"Good point. Count of seven?"

"Sure, why not?"

"One, two, three --" she could hear the four men coming back at a run. "four-six-seven!"

"You skipped five again," Baby said, shaking her head.

"Shit. I always forget. All right. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven."

The guards were on them by then. Baby threw her button, caught an arm, and flipped the guard into the room. He landed before the smoke pellet went off. Apache had done much the same, and she had the joy of seeing an entire crowd of people turn in stunned amazement, just as the next two warriors landed on their butts in the room.

The Queen stood, a tall, thin woman with hair gone silver and wild. She lifted her hands and shouted. Wind drove the smoke away, and then lightning flashed outward and stuck the wall behind them.

"Holy shit!" Apache shouted, and leapt, with her sister, for cover.

They tangled, and rolled out of the entryway. Baby tossed a screamer toward the people who had just begun to show their faces. They retreated.

So did Baby and Apache. Not exactly ran, since Baby wasn't up to that, but they did make a quick escape to the nearest corner, where they stopped, gasping.

"What the hell..." Apache began, and then shook her head. "How the hell... don't tell me that was magic. Don't tell me that. I have enough weirdness in my life, with the damned aliens."

Baby looked at her.

"All right, fine. It was magic. So what do we do about it?"

"Find the nearest exit. Go far away."

"We don't have the damned briefcase!"

"Damn. You're right. All right, we go back and face her down."

"Face her down? Are you NUTS? She threw lightning at us."

Baby pulled her hair tie and held it up. "So we'll throw it back at her."

The truly awful thing was that Apache didn't even pause as she ran back with her sister.






Seven



Baby had one exploding hair tie. Unfortunately, she also now had her hair in her face.

This was not a good combination.

Add to this the fifty Celts charging out of the room toward her, and the wild-eyed harridan shouting from her throne, and you had a nice recipe for chaos. Maybe even disaster.

As Baby came around the corner, hair whipped into her face. She snarled and brushed at it, and the hair tie tangled in a few strands. She tried to yank it free, and that put her balance off. Her bad knee gave way.

She fell into the Celtic army. It was kind of like playing live bowling, she thought, as she skidded through the group. Celts went tumbling on all sides. Then, quite unexpectedly, she stood on the back side of the warriors.

Unfortunately, that put her in front of the witch.

"Oh shit."

She grabbed at her hair, tore a few strands loose, but had the tie -- for a moment.

"Geraniums!"

Apache didn't slide into the army, she sort of leapt and flew into it. Ones who had just started to stand went back down. So did several others. One of them landed atop Baby.

The hair tie went flying. It might have helped if she had primed it already. It hit the floor and disappeared as more of the army went sailing through as Apache landed beside her.

The Queen stood on one of the tables, her arms raised, her eyes blazing. What she said could not have been nice. And from the way the men had gone scrambling to get away from her and Apache, it didn't look as though it would be much fun, either.

Apache threw a screamer at the woman, which did, for a moment, distract her, though it didn't appear as though she lost track of what she was saying. It did give Baby and Apache a chance to launch themselves at a rock-hewn table.

A shame the table turned into a lizard a moment later. A startled lizard when Baby threw it at the witch, but she just grinned and tossed it aside, her hand aiming at them again. The next table did the same.

"Well hell," Apache said. "I hope you like flies."

"Oh look. My hair tie." Baby picked it up, twisted the primer end, and tossed it at the Queen Witch just as she sent a wave of red light toward them.

And that's when it all went to hell...






Eight



Alan turned the last page of the report and closed the notebook. He looked at the two sitting across from him. He waited. So did they. Apache knew that she and Baby could outwait an alien any day of the week. And Alan knew it too. He gave up way too soon.

"They turned into lizards," he said.

"Yes," Baby said with a nod, as though that was the natural turn of events. Well, actually, it probably was. "African fat-tailed geckos actually. Vicious little beasts, but when they suddenly realized Apache and I didn't have qualms about killing lizards -- well, they scampered off into the caves. I dare say they'll be happier living in them as geckos than they did as humans."

"Magic," Alan said.

"Yes," Apache answered. She stretched and picked up the briefcase, sitting it on the desk. "Does it matter to you how we got it back? Do you really care what we faced to do it? Here's the briefcase."

He eyed her suspiciously. "I don't believe in magic."

"That's fine by me," Apache said. She pulled open her backpack and put a small metal cage on the table. "Tell it to her, though."

A stripped gecko stalked back and forth in the cage, and she hissed words, almost understandable. Fire singed the metal bars.

Apache opened the top and pulled her out. "I told you not to do that! Bad gecko!"

She bopped it on the head and dropped it back into the cage.

"Ah..."

"Just feed her twice a day. A few nice flies, the occasional cockroach. You'll do fine, Alan."

"Oh no. You are not leaving that with me. Not here. Not after the water dragon -- there is no way --"

Apache had forgotten to latch the top of the cage.

The gecko leapt up, knocked the lid back, and launched herself at Alan. He yelled and threw himself out of the chair. By then Baby and Apache both had come over the top of his desk, and they all ended up on the floor.

The last Apache saw of the gecko, she had darted behind some bookcases. By the time they pulled those out, all they found was a smoking hole in the wall. They could hear insane Gecko laughter fading in the distance.

"Oops," Baby said.

Alan looked at her. He said several things. Luckily, she didn't understand any of them.

"We'll just leave now," Apache said, snagging her sister's arm. "Talk to you soon, Alan. And don't worry about the gecko. She's small. And the building has a sprinkler system --"

He took hold of Apache's arm. He had never taken hold of either of them before. Nor had his face ever quite had that look before.

"You will never, never mention this again. I don't want to know about magic, geckos, fires --" An alarm rang somewhere else in the building.

"Look. We can maybe go back to the caves, look for her magic books or whatever --" Apache began.

She stopped when he started shaking her. Violently. "Never go to Africa again. Never go near it. The thought of you and magic... no. Never mention this again!"

"Well, all right. The gecko is your problem, then," Apache said.

Alan nodded vigorously and shooed them out the door. He looked so vastly relieved as they left that Baby looked at her sister and bowed.

"I bow to the master," she said. "You handled that very well."

"Yeah, and now the gecko is no longer our problem," Apache said.

"Exactly." They reached the elevator. People leapt out of the way. They climbed in -- checked the ceiling -- and started down.

The elevator reached the bottom floor without incident, except for another fire alarm going off. By the time they'd reached the lobby, people had gathered into little, protective groups.

"I brought something back for you from the caves," Baby said. It fell off one of the warriors, and since I couldn't get you a birthday present..."

Baby held out a golden band to her sister. Apache backed away without touching it.

"You're giving them a bad impression of our relationship, Apache," Baby said with a shake of her head. She walked past her sister and tossed her the golden band. "It won't bite."

Apache had caught it. She held it between two fingers.

Real gold. Lovely scrollwork, with an animal motif, hippos, birds... two grinning sheep....

Baby had already reached the door when she looked up again.

"I'll be leaving now," Baby said.

"I hope you can run fast, hermana mia," Apache said.

"Actually, I have a taxi waiting."

"Very wise," Apache said. "You don't want me to catch up with you..."

Baby leapt out the door and down the stairs she was into the taxi before Apache got there. Apache watched her go, then flipped the band up into the air once and then put it on her arm. A good reminder.

Another fire alarm went off in the building. Apache decided it was time for a good long, quick walk...

The End