TINY TERROR

a CAPTAIN SCARLET AND THE MYSTERONS story

by Mary J. Rudy

Captain Blue snapped the lid of his suitcase shut and pulled it off his bed. Automatically, he smoothed the white sheet and non-regulation azure blanket. Several of the items issued to the Spectrum officers could be officially replaced with color-coded ones at the officer's discretion, and he had received this blanket from his parents last Christmas to replace the dark gray one he had been issued. It was his little piece of home, his reminder that he had a life beyond the dangerous employ of Spectrum.

For the past month, Blue had begun to wonder if there really was any life beyond Spectrum. He hadn't been home, or even off Cloudbase except for surface assignments or the occasional overnight pass, for almost a year. But now that summer and his turn for a long furlough had come up, it seemed as if every one of his plans for departure had been thwarted. The Mysteron threats were unavoidable, of course, but he was also having a bad streak of luck. It had happened again this morning as he was returning from Koala Base. Although it looked as if Captain Blue would finally get to go home, sadly he got back to Cloudbase too late to say goodbye to her.

He glanced longingly at Symphony Angel's photograph next to that of his parents on the night stand. Everything had been planned perfectly. He had checked the duty roster before he left for Australia, and then he arranged his schedule so he could make it back before she went on duty in Angel One. But then he was delayed by that coolant leak. As his plane approached the Spectrum base, he saw the alert interceptor take off and his heart sank. At least Symphony had waggled her wings at him in farewell; they both knew that words would have to wait.

Blue took a clean uniform out of the closet and draped it over a chair. The last straw was that he couldn't even dress comfortably. He was longing to wear his civilian clothes, but as he had to hand-deliver a report to Spectrum Headquarters in New York on his way home, he had to be in uniform. This was not to say that he wasn't proud of his Spectrum uniform, however. In fact, he thought to himself as he pulled a pair of light blue socks out of the drawer, it was he who started the other captains wearing color-coded socks inside their boots instead of the black ones. It was just that the uniform was uncomfortable in the summer months. He had waited until the last possible moment to get fully dressed, to put on his dark shirt, his dark pants, and then the vest and high boots dyed the color of a cloudless summer sky. Captain Blue shrugged and reached for his uniform trousers. Oh, well, he thought, at least he was going home. Maybe he'd go to the family's cabin in the Berkshires. A couple of days on a mountain lake with only a few fish for company was just what he needed.

As the tall blond officer dressed, he noticed a pleasant guitar melody he hadn't heard before. Must have left the radio on by accident, he mused. Captain Blue checked his quarters one last time for anything he missed, then reached for the radio switch. Strange--it had been off the whole time. As he opened the door, the music became more audible, and Blue recognized Lieutenant Green's voice immediately. Checking his watch, he figured he had a couple of minutes to spare.

Lieutenant Green, Colonel White's personal aide and Cloudbase's computer expert, occupied quarters next to those of Captain Blue. A native of Port of Spain, Trinidad, the young black man grew up listening to storytellers weaving tales and making up songs on the spur of the moment for the tourists. Green often would entertain his fellow Spectrum officers and the Angels with West Indian stories and homemade songs on his guitar. The youth had a good singing voice and a vivid imagination. Blue leaned against the doorway with arms folded, listening to the lyrics that flowed so effortlessly from the lieutenant's lips. He was singing a traditional Calypso melody about a mission that he, Captain Blue and Captain Scarlet had been on previously. The captain smiled at Lieutenant Green's exaggerated Caribbean accent:

"Spectrum came to Wash-ing-ton,

To safeguard de King Con-ven-ti-on.

Captain Scarlet t'ought dat de Mysterons meant

Dat dey were going to murder de Pres-i-dent.

Now de Pres-i-dent and de Chiefs of Staff

Held a summit for a week and a half

But dey ran into trouble, as de story is told,

When de Mysterons struck with a T'un-der-bolt."

Lieutenant Green stopped and toyed with the guitar strings, thinking of more words, as Captain Blue cleared his throat.

"Oh, hello, Captain Blue," the lieutenant smiled, rising from his chair. "Was I disturbing you?"

"Not at all, Lieutenant," the senior officer replied, motioning for him to sit down. "I heard the music and stopped in to say goodbye."

"Finally leaving for that holiday, are you?"

"Finally," he sighed. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd get there before my fishing license expired."

"Fishing, sir? I figured you'd go on some exotic adventure, like a safari through darkest Africa, or maybe climbing a few mountains in the Himalayas."

Blue shook his head. "I'm going home to Massachusetts. I think a nice quiet fishing trip is in order." He turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, I know why I came in. Do you happen to know where Captain Scarlet is?"

Green looked up at the wall clock. "It's 1603. He's probably having tea with the colonel."

"Of course, it's Sunday. How stupid of me. I really do need a vacation." Captain Blue bade the lieutenant farewell, picked up his suitcase and headed for the officers' lounge.

Cloudbase's English senior officers--namely Colonel White, Captain Scarlet and Rhapsody Angel--and also Dr. Fawn, an Australian, traditionally got together for tea every Sunday barring schedule conflicts. Occasionally, one of the other officers would join them, but today the four were by themselves. Colonel White had only two rules during this time which were strictly observed--first, except for urgent messages, no Spectrum business was to be discussed. Secondly, the colonel always was "mother," always poured. White was very firm on the latter because it was the one time of day when he could do something for his officers instead of the other way around. Besides, if anything were to happen to his family's 200-year-old tea service, he would much rather it be of his own doing.

As the door to the lounge slid open, Colonel White looked up and stared. "Good heavens, Captain Scarlet! Which tribe of Red Indians attacked you?"

The younger man returned the look with a puzzled one of his own. "Sir?"

"Your hair. A bit shorter since I saw you last, isn't it?"

Scarlet grinned and ran a hand through his freshly-barbered head of dark hair. "It's summertime, Colonel. More comfortable."

"Also rather handsome," added Rhapsody with a smile.

The captain blushed. "Thanks. I think Symphony did a good job--"

"Symphony?!" remarked the colonel. "We have a barber on base, Captain."

"Yes, but he's not as good-looking as Symphony," retorted Rhapsody. Seeing Captain Scarlet glaring at her, she laughed and explained. "Symphony offered to do it before she went on duty, Colonel." The captain looked at her gratefully, for she knew the real reason he had gone to the Amber Room, and it wasn't for a haircut.

Colonel White nodded and poured the tea, changing the subject. "So, I understand that Captain Blue is leaving on holiday today."

"Yes, sir, he's long overdue," Scarlet replied. "I don't think he's had a furlough for nearly a year."

"Not even Christmas?"

"He volunteered for duty."

"Hmm," agreed the colonel as he sipped from his teacup. "I remember now. He organized a roving group of carolers--quite enjoyable, that."

"Where is he going on holiday, Captain Scarlet?" interjected Rhapsody.

"Home, to Boston. He said something about fishing." The captain took a slice of cake from the plate Colonel White was holding and nodded his thanks. "I hear Massachusetts is lovely this time of year."

"I've heard the same," added Dr. Fawn, quiet until now. "It's a well-known fact that a peaceful location makes a big difference in the way people feel. Just as these tea breaks are relaxing for us, a change of scenery will do Captain Blue good." The medical officer looked up as he spoke. "Well, talk of the devil." He smiled at Captain Blue, who had just appeared in the doorway. "So, you've finally hung up that 'gone fishing' sign, have you?"

"Yes, at last." Then, to Colonel White, "I'll see you in two weeks, sir. My plane's waiting."

"Very good, Captain. Just remember, if there's an alert--"

"Be ready for immediate recall," Blue sighed. "With all the other things that have happened to me this past month, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Well, anyway, enjoy yourself." They shook hands.

"Colonel," began Captain Scarlet, standing and placing his cup and saucer on the table, "will you excuse me? I want to have a word with Captain Blue before he leaves."

"Of course." Scarlet picked up his partner's suitcase and left the room.

As the pair walked down the corridor, Captain Scarlet said, "I'm terribly sorry, Adam. Rhapsody would've swapped with Symphony, but she was on duty just before her. The others started to ask too many questions--"

"It's OK," Blue interrupted sadly. "That's just the way things have been going. Thanks for trying."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me. I'm just glad you two are speaking to each other again."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought she'd never forgive you, missing her birthday like you did."

"Yeah, I thought I'd lost her for good after that screw-up. But thanks to you, she finally forgave me. When you explained everything to her, it seemed to work just like one of Cupid's arrows--"

"Yes, I suppose you could say that. Playing at Cupid for you two gives me a good feeling inside. Perhaps you'll do it for me some day."

Captain Blue gave him a strange look, as if his friend was trying to tell him something, but decided not to comment. "Did she give you any message for me?"

"Only that she'd try to ring you. She said she already has your parents' number."

"Good. I'll tell Mom to give her the number up at the cabin." They finally reached the door to the airlock. "Well, looks like I'm going to make it this time."

"Let's hope so." Captain Scarlet handed the suitcase to his friend. "OK, partner, have a good holiday and forget that we even exist up here." He held out his hand.

Blue took it in his own and was about to say something when the last voice he wanted to hear at that moment droned loudly:

"This is the voice of the Mysterons…"

The suitcase clattered to the floor as Captain Blue clenched his fists. "No. No. Not now, please."

"Steady, Adam," said Captain Scarlet.

"…We know that you can hear us, Earthmen. Beware; the first voyage of a new adventure shall be the last when the mouse slays the lion. We will be avenged!"

Captain Blue, known for his unlimited patience, for once snapped. "Damn!" he shouted, sending the suitcase halfway down the corridor with one kick. "What the hell do I have to do around here to go home?"

"Take it easy," his best friend replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You'll just go in a few days, that's all. The lake will still be there."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"Well, just think of it this way. At least you'll be able to say goodbye to Symphony yourself when this is over." Scarlet retrieved the suitcase from the floor and handed it to him. "And the sooner we get cracking, the faster you'll get home. Let's go."

There is an old saying that good things sometimes come in small packages. This was often quoted when describing Ruth Kaplan. Standing all of four-foot-seven and tipping the scales at 85 pounds dripping wet, Ruthie was not an imposing figure. What she lacked in stature, however, she counterbalanced with her vocal talent. The diminutive redhead had a surprisingly powerful singing voice, one of excellent range and tonal quality. Whether the tune was a tearful ballad or the latest Broadway hit, Ruthie was comfortable with it. Her favorite style of music, however, was the sultry "torch song" usually performed in smoky jazz nightclubs. Ruthie enjoyed the atmosphere generated by the music, but the famous vocalist had another, deeper reason that she chose it as her personal favorite--she had been performing just such a song in some forgettable club a few years ago when she first met her husband.

Sidney Rubin was the typical Jewish mother's ideal son-in-law. He came from a good family, he was handsome and he was a successful law partner. He was also a good cook, which was fortunate because Ruthie had no culinary skills whatsoever. Sid usually described Ruthie's cooking by paraphrasing an old ethnic joke--just about the only thing she could make for dinner was reservations. But he didn't mind. They loved each other, and that was all that mattered to him.

Sid understood Ruthie's love of music and did not discourage her performing on tour, so he didn't usually mind that she was away from home so much. In fact, he accompanied her as often as his thriving legal practice would allow. The trip they were going on later today would be the best one of all, but when the letter and package of space-travel clothing was delivered Sid could not believe it.

"What do you mean, I'm not invited?" Sid asked angrily.

"That's what the Prime Minister's letter says, honey." She handed him a sheet of fine-quality stationery. "Read it for yourself. You are invited to attend the launch--"

"You must be kidding. If I can't go with you, I'm not going all the way to French Guiana just to see something I can watch on TV here. Florida would be another story."

"That's OK with me, Sid. I don't expect you to take the time off work every time I go away."

"I thought you made it clear to your agent when you agreed to this contract that we both want to take this trip. Did you call him to see if there was some mistake?"

"Right away. Joel said the guest list had to be limited because of all the security people the Prime Minister has to take with him."

Sid stormed into the kitchen, figuring if he got busy with preparing lunch that it would calm him down. Ruthie knew that it usually did and left him alone, choosing instead to set the table.

Shortly, Sid emerged with a tray of cold sliced chicken and salad. He hardly resembled the man who had gone through the doorway a few minutes ago, for he had a smile on his face and the spring was back in his step. A relieved Ruthie sighed and sat down to eat.

Despite his outward appearance, Sid still was obviously disappointed. He pushed the food around on his plate as he said, "I'm sorry, hon. I still can't believe I'm going to miss the first luxury passenger flight to the moon because of seating arrangements. I thought only airlines bumped people."

"Well, I'm disappointed you can't come with me too. But this does mean a lot to me and I wish you'd be a little more supportive."

"Don't get me wrong, Ruthie, I'm happy for you."

"You sure have a funny way of showing it. Now cheer up and eat." She then added with a thick Old Country accent, "Have a little chicken, Sidney. What could it hurt?"

"Yes, Mom," laughed Sid. Ruthie could sound just like his mother at times, and it never failed to lift his spirits. The pair turned their attention back to their plates and ate the rest of their meal quietly.

As Sid got up to put his dishes in the sink, he said, "So, when is your flight?"

"We have lots of time." Ruthie handed him her plate and silverware. "But would you mind if we left now? Joel reminded me when I called him that I haven't returned the advertising contract."

"Now why would I mind that?" he asked, putting his hands on her shoulders. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm just not crazy about the idea that you're going so far away. Space travel may have been around for a hundred years but it still makes me nervous."

"Well, just think of outer space as a big ocean and this trip as a luxury cruise. I've been on lots of them without you."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed. "Do you have everything packed?"

"All set. I'll get these into the dishwasher while you take my bag to the car."

"Fair enough."

Although Ruthie was very excited about her voyage to the moon, she did not discuss it with Sid during the drive downtown. She didn't want to upset him any more than he already was. Instead, she talked about the success of her latest recording, which had just gone platinum the day before and did not show signs of stopping. However, Ruthie was thinking more about her upcoming adventure. She was more popular than she had ever been, and the publicity she would receive as the Prime Minister's favorite American pop artist could only be beneficial. It was at Mr. Rixham's last-minute request that she have the opportunity to accompany him on this historic flight. The Prime Minister had seen a television interview in which Ruthie stated that her greatest dream growing up was to be an astronaut, but height requirements had forced her to abandon her hope. Since World Space Lines was looking for a goodwill ambassador from the United States, he had suggested Ruthie to them. They immediately liked the idea and contacted Ruthie's agent who jumped at the opportunity. He had drawn up an advertising contract, and Ruthie had taken it home for Sid to approve before she signed it. Now she had to return the contract to Joel before she left for French Guiana.

The white sports convertible eventually fought its way through the downtown traffic and stopped at the freight entrance of a high-rise office building. Ruthie gave Sid a quick kiss and grabbed a manila envelope. "I shouldn't be any more than five minutes, honey. You might as well stay double-parked."

"OK," her husband replied as he fiddled with the car radio. "I'll just see if my favorite singer is on the air today," he added, looking up at her with a loving smile.

Ruthie spoke for a minute with the security guard, signed a publicity photo for his daughter and headed for the elevators. She was about to step into one of them when someone grabbed her arm from behind. Thinking it was just another fan wanting an autograph, Ruthie forced a smile and turned around.

The sight of the man's face made her gasp in horror. He looked more dead than alive, with an ashen complexion, hollow cheeks and sunken eye sockets. He did not speak, but pointed to the elevator she was about to enter and shook his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Kaplan," apologized the security guard. "He grabbed you like that because he can't talk. I forgot to tell you--both elevators have been acting up all day and he was just about to shut Number One down." The repairman nodded at Ruthie and jingled the keys in his hand.

"Oh, OK. Thanks." She entered the other elevator and reached on tiptoe for the button for the 71st floor. The silent man stepped into the car and pressed the button for her, then remained in the car as the door slid shut. Ruthie noticed that he didn't select another floor but she didn't give it a second thought. She did, however, have an uneasy feeling that the repairman was watching her.

At the 69th floor, the car lurched to a stop, throwing Ruthie off balance. She was frightened for a few seconds but then remembered who her fellow passenger was. The repairman removed the ceiling access panel and climbed up into the elevator shaft.

"It's a good thing you're here," called Ruthie encouragingly. "I can't reach the alarm button." She stood helplessly, staring at the hole in the ceiling as the man worked above.

The elevator shuddered, making strange noises, and Ruthie's confidence in the repairman's ability began to diminish. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead as she waited. Elevators were not one of her favorite places to be to begin with. Then the car shook again and actually dropped a few feet, and Ruthie lost her composure. "Hey, you up there! Lower it to the next floor and I'll walk the rest of the way!"

A deep voice intoned, "You will soon walk with the Mysterons," startling the famous singer. The security guard had said that the repairman couldn't talk! "What's going on?" she called nervously. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"We want you to become one of us, Earthwoman," replied Mysteron agent Captain Black as he cut the final cable. The elevator car carrying the helpless Ruth Kaplan plunged to destruction in the sub-basement. Even if she could sound the alarm, it would have done no good as Captain Black had removed the emergency brakes before he cut the cables.

Ten minutes later, as rescue workers attempted to pry the crushed elevator car out of the hole it had made itself in the building's foundation, an unharmed Ruth Kaplan emerged from another elevator and casually walked toward the door. The lobby was in such an uproar over the accident that not even the security guard saw the tiny woman leave.

"Well, what took you so long?" asked Sid as Ruthie got into the passenger seat of the convertible.

"Elevator trouble," the Mysteron copy replied, looking over her shoulder at the office building as they pulled out into the traffic.

"Captain Scarlet reporting, sir."

"At ease, Captain. Sit down." Colonel White looked at his chief agent and gestured to the stool in front of him. Scarlet doffed his red uniform cap and tucked it smartly under his arm as he sat.

"And where is your cohort?" asked the colonel.

"Ringing up his parents. I told him to let them know his situation while I finished the report."

"Good idea. No sense in their worrying about him."

With that, the ruggedly handsome American officer entered the control room. "Captain Blue reporting as ordered, sir." His half-hearted salute and the disappointment in his voice did not go unnoticed by the white-haired Spectrum chief.

"My apologies, Captain Blue. How did your parents react to the news?"

"Fine, sir. Mom understands I have a job to do, but my father--"

"Don't tell me," Scarlet interrupted tiredly. "The usual lecture about having regular holidays if you'd joined him at the stock exchange?"

Blue nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, but this time I was ready for him. I had Captain Grey standing by to call me away from the phone if I gave him the signal."

"Good show."

"All right, gentlemen," the colonel broke in, "you're not here to discuss your private lives. Let's have your report."

"It was easier than we thought, Colonel," began Captain Scarlet. "The Mysterons are referring to the centennial of the first moon landing. In celebration, the World Space Lines ship Adventure, the first luxury space liner, is scheduled to lift off from French Guiana tomorrow for the moon."

"I see. That certainly fits. But what about that bit with the lion and the mouse?"

"Well, Colonel," said Captain Blue, "the 'lion' is most likely Prime Minister Rixham. As the lion in the British coat of arms denotes strength, the press has taken to calling him 'the new lion'--just as a writer once referred to Winston Churchill as 'the last lion.'"

"And the fact that he's going along, representing the World Space Committee he heads, confirms him as the target," added Scarlet.

"Quite. And the 'mouse'?"

Blue shrugged. "We haven't a clue, sir. It could mean anything at this point."

"Well, we at least know where to start," the colonel mused. "Have you checked the passenger list?"

"Yes, sir," Captain Scarlet replied. "Mostly press and security, plus a number of assorted celebrities--an American singer, a British science fiction writer, and so on. No obvious Mysteron suspects--"

"Everyone's suspect, Captains," snapped White. "We can rule no one out until the threat is ended, as you both well know."

"But we can take a Mysteron detector to the spaceport," suggested Captain Blue. "We can at least check everyone before they get on the ship."

"I was coming to that." The colonel turned to his aide. "Have Captains Grey and Magenta report to the World Space Lines terminal with a detector. They are to check all spaceport security personnel and passengers without exception."

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Green moved his chair down the console to the intercom.

Blue looked up from his copy of the report. "Where do we fit in, Colonel?"

"I want you both on that spacecraft. You will keep close watch on all of the passengers." White turned back to Captain Scarlet. "Captain, you've had previous dealings with Mr. Rixham, haven't you? If I remember correctly, it was just before the Zero-X mission."

"Yes, sir," the British officer replied. "And I'm sure you also remember Mr. Rixham's stubbornness."

"He hasn't changed a bit, I'm afraid. I hear he is still very uncooperative towards Spectrum. In fact, he has refused a uniformed escort all the way from Downing Street to Cayenne, but I think he might consent to the decoy tanker for the trip to the spaceport. In any event, I'll still order our plainclothes agents to keep an eye on him. Once he arrives there, your orders are to stick to him like glue no matter how much he objects."

Captain Blue looked at his partner like he was being asked to babysit an incorrigible child. "Is this guy as bad as President Roberts the first time we were assigned to protect him?"

"To use one of your expressions, Captain Blue, Roberts was a Boy Scout compared to 'Stubborn Stevie.'" Before Colonel White could reprimand him, Scarlet added, "I'm sorry, Colonel, but you'll have to admit it is a rather appropriate nickname."

"It is at that, Captain, but during this assignment you shall forget you ever heard it."

"Of course, sir."

"Now," continued the Spectrum commander, "getting back to the business at hand, you've both been through space travel before, so you know to draw your special boots and weapons before you leave Cloudbase. Also, I don't need to remind you that although the Adventure is a luxury liner, the dangers of space travel in general and the importance of this mission should not be minimized. Mr. Rixham's safety is our utmost concern."

"Don't worry, Colonel," reassured Captain Scarlet as he rose from the stool and put on his cap. "The Prime Minister is in safe hands."

"Yes, sir, we'll take good care of Stub-- er, Mr. Rixham," Blue added, shaking his head at his slip of the tongue. He left the control room quickly, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

The mysteronized Ruth Kaplan, surrounded by security people and signing autographs as she walked, finally emerged from the airport terminal at Cayenne, French Guiana and was greeted by a chauffeur-driven limousine. The driver took her luggage and said, "Sorry, Miss Kaplan, but the Prime Minister couldn't be here to meet you. He received an urgent last-minute message and sent me to fetch you."

Ruthie nodded and looked at her watch. "He will still be at the spaceport, won't he?"

"Oh, my, yes! He's looking forward to this trip ever so much. It's just that he received a call from Spectrum."

"Spectrum?!" Ruthie exclaimed, startling the chauffeur.

"Is something wrong, Miss Kaplan?"

The Mysteron realized her mistake. "Oh, no, no," she blurted. "I'm just surprised at the amount of security."

"The Mysterons have threatened to sabotage the flight. Spectrum's presence is quite routine, I hear."

Ruthie frowned. She had planned to destroy the Prime Minister in the limousine. And now that Spectrum knew the target already, the spaceport would be crawling with agents. There would probably be a Mysteron detector set up to check the passengers as they boarded. If she was identified as a Mysteron agent, she would be destroyed before she would get a chance to strike. How could she get to the Prime Minister while avoiding the detectors?

A voice inside her head boomed:

"Miss Kaplan, this is Captain Black relaying instructions from the Mysterons. Open the small black case you picked up at the airport."

Besides the normal contents of Ruthie's makeup kit, the case also contained an odd-looking gun, a black box and a remote control. The dolorous voice continued, "The black box is a remote-control bomb. Carry it with you and leave it near the Prime Minister. If you cannot destroy the Earthman, board the spacecraft and use the space pistol when you can. You can avoid the Spectrum agents by using your size to your advantage."

Her size an advantage?! The real Ruth Kaplan would have found the last comment amusing. For all of her life, her diminutive stature had been her enemy. Even her demise had been due to her shortness. So many things were out of her reach that she more than once considered becoming an advocate for short people along with her singing career. She was always looking for the chance to prove that smaller often is better.

Of course, the Mysteron copy did not think along those lines. Her job was to kill Prime Minister Rixham in any way possible. What Ruthie had done or thought during her life made no difference. She took the black box and tucked it into the pocket of her zero-g coveralls, then murmured in reply, "I know what I must do."

"Did you say something, Miss Kaplan?" asked the chauffeur, looking up at the rear-view mirror.

Ruthie shook her head and closed the makeup case.

The oppressive tropical heat and humidity surrounded the two Spectrum captains seconds after they exited from their red saloon car. It transformed the short walk to the spaceport terminal entrance into a steamy ordeal.

"Whew, it's hot!" grumbled Captain Scarlet, wiping perspiration from his brow and the inside of his uniform cap with his handkerchief. "The Mysterons would have to choose the Equator for their latest threat, wouldn't they?"

Captain Blue removed his fogged sunglasses and wiped them dry, grinning at his colleague. "What's the matter, Captain Scarlet? Wish it was March and you were getting seasick on the U.S.S. John Barry again?"

"I'll take this over another nor'easter, thank you," the British officer replied, shaking his head. "And I told you before, I didn't get seasick." He folded the handkerchief and mopped his head again before putting it back into his pocket. "It's just that when it's like this, I'd like to have a go at the boffin who designed our 'summer' uniforms! Who ever heard of wearing dark colors and roll-neck jumpers in July?"

Blue nodded. "You know, I was just thinking of that today myself. As much as I like this uniform, it's just awful whenever it gets hot or humid. It'll sure feel good to get inside the terminal building."

The officers finally reached the spaceport entrance and the automatic doors whooshed open. Compared to the hot stillness outside, the lobby seemed almost wintry. The two men, however, adjusted quickly to the temperature change and made their way to the security gate.

At the gate, two more Spectrum officers were already hard at work. One scrutinized each passenger's credentials while the other appeared to be taking photographs of them, but with a strange-looking device. Scarlet waited until the agents were unoccupied and then approached the elder of the pair.

"What's the situation, Captain Grey?"

"Nothing to report so far," the Chicagoan replied in a booming voice. "The shuttle with the majority of the passengers hasn't arrived yet from the airport."

"How about the Mysteron detector?" asked Captain Blue.

Grey patted the piece of equipment hanging from his neck. "Working like a charm."

"Good. What's the word on the Prime Minister?"

Captain Magenta answered, "There's a slight problem."

"What kind of problem?" continued Blue.

"He apparently refused to travel in our dummy tanker--"

"Typical," muttered Captain Scarlet.

"He insisted on a limousine and a grand entrance. I made sure one of our plainclothes people was driving and the roads were patrolled."

"Well, I guess that's the best we can do at this point. You two carry on here, and Captain Scarlet and I will see to Mr. Rixham as soon as he arrives."

"S.I.G., Captain Blue," replied Magenta cheerfully. "The Mysterons won't get by us." Blue nodded in reply as he and Captain Scarlet headed back toward the terminal entrance.

Within minutes, a limousine appeared. Prime Minister Stephen R. Rixham, a balding but energetic older man exhibiting more than a hint of brash self-confidence, emerged from the back seat and smiled broadly at the press photographers. Then the two Spectrum captains approached the entourage.

"Prime Minister, if you will please accompany us aboard--"

"Captain Scarlet," interrupted the British leader, "I thought Colonel White had approved the prelaunch ceremony as long as you were here."

"He did, sir. It's just that you'll be safer inside--"

"Where I won't be able to christen the ship? Absolutely not!"

Scarlet sighed. He'd forgotten about the christening. "Prime Minister," he continued, "if you insist on going up on the platform to christen the Adventure, I want the ceremony closed to the press."

"No, Captain, I won't allow that--"

"Now wait just a minute!"

The tension grew with each passing second. Captain Blue knew that his partner's patience was wearing thin. "What Captain Scarlet means, ladies and gentlemen," he interrupted, stepping forward, "is that you may take as many pictures as you want from this distance. You can't come any closer for reasons of security." He then whispered to Scarlet, "Don't make a scene. Just go along with whatever he says so we can get him on the ship."

"Right," Scarlet hissed in reply. He then gestured to Rixham's bodyguards, who cleared a path through the mob of reporters.

Ten minutes before Prime Minister Rixham's limousine arrived at the spaceport terminal, another car pulled up to a rear entrance. The mysteronized Ruth Kaplan, knowing that she would be surrounded by fans and the press if she entered through the main gate, had asked the chauffeur to leave her there. Ruthie scurried inside the terminal building as the chauffeur unpacked her luggage. She headed right for the ship at first, then remembered that she still might be recognized. Entering a restroom, she donned a dark wig and a pair of large sunglasses that she kept in the makeup case for just such an emergency. It was a simple disguise, but it almost always worked.

The diminutive Mysteron slipped into the crowd which had just arrived on the shuttle from the airport. The actual passenger capacity of the Adventure, of course, was small compared to the number of people who had come to see the historic launch. Besides the passengers and the press, there were a number of dignitaries from World Space Lines and the World Space Committee that Rixham headed. Other spectators had tried to fly into the airport, but Spectrum had canceled all regularly scheduled flights until after the launch.

Ruthie spotted the Prime Minister, amid a crowd of reporters, near the windows on one side of the terminal. A pair of Spectrum officers, conspicuous in their brightly-colored uniforms, approached the assembly. Ruthie groaned at the sight of the agents. Then she noticed that there appeared to be a dispute of some kind between the younger officer and Rixham. The Prime Minister's arrival had attracted the attention of the passengers, and it was becoming more difficult for his bodyguards to keep the crowd under surveillance. It was time for the Mysteron to make her move.

Ruthie elbowed and pushed her way through the growing mob until she reached the wall of the terminal building. When she got a few feet away from the Prime Minister's entourage, she dropped the black box into a photographer's camera bag. Still unnoticed in the confusion, Ruthie slipped back into the crowd and escaped to the baggage loading area.

Captain Black had told Ruthie to board the spacecraft using her size to her advantage. But how? Two more Spectrum agents were photographing the passengers as they boarded, and a heavily-armed security guard was carefully watching the entrance to the space liner. Even the luggage was being pulled apart--

The luggage! Each item going on the Adventure was opened and inspected prior to being loaded in the cargo bay. A light but sturdy case used to transport electronic equipment caught Ruthie's attention. The Mysteron pressed the button on her remote control, tore off her disguise and squeezed her small body into the case, shoving the equipment out. No one saw her, for when she activated the remote control something much more powerful caught everyone's attention.

The two Spectrum officers and the British prime minister, after a great deal of effort, finally were able to wrest themselves away from the mob of news-hungry reporters.

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