Spies Are Like Daffodils
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  RockBaker

Seven.


Nunevya Bizwacz’s eyes opened and she experienced a moment of panicked disorientation before she realized where she was, in her berth aboard the train. There was another knock on the door, and the minkess thrashed in the bedclothes as she turned to face the door. “Who-who is it?” she quavered.

“Customs, Ma’am,” said an officious male voice. “We need to make sure your papers are in order.”

This, she was familiar with. On Vostok Island you always carried your identity papers, and were required to show them to any official. “One moment,” and she got out of bed. She had hung her clothes up and slept in her underwear, not having brought any luggage with her. With her skirt and blouse on, she got out her ticket and passport and eased the door open slightly.

A rabbit buck wearing an unfamiliar dark green uniform smiled at her. “United States Border Patrol, Ma’am. May I see your passport, please?”

“Yes, yes, here,” she said, and gave him the simple gold-stamped brown booklet.

He flipped through it, glanced from her face to the photograph, and smiled as he gave it back to her. “Welcome to the United States, Ma’am. Do you have anything to declare? Any fruit or other agricultural products?”

“Um, no. No, I do not.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” and just like that the rabbit returned her passport and moved on to the next compartment.

Nunevya was surprised. A stranger entering the Empire-in-Exile would have had to spend three days being questioned and examined before being allowed to set foot in the Grand Duchess’ domain. The surprise turned to a joyful grin as she closed and locked her door and started to get cleaned up before going to breakfast.

Perhaps thirty minutes later, the minkess made her way to the dining car.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

Seated among the other passengers enjoying their meals was a schnauzer in a brown leather overcoat, a canine she had seen more than once back at the Embassy. There was an empty seat across from him, with a tea service and two cups.

She started to recoil, to head back to her compartment and barricade herself, when he caught her gaze and smiled. “Nunevya Iosifevna!” he called out. “Come, sit! We have tea, nu?”

Nunevya, held by the Major’s gaze, stepped forward and took the indicated seat.


***


Bernie Phlute stirred awake to find himself curled up much like a feral dog, with something furry nestled comfortably in his arms. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt at the same instant Henry Patafuerte woke up, and for a moment they gazed into each other's horrified eyes.

"Where’s – um, where’s your tail?" the stork asked apprehensively.

"Um, between two pillows," the fox replied.

"Those aren’t pillows!"

Not without a duet of yelps and groans, as fur or feathers that were glued to the floor pulled painfully, the two were on their feet in an instant, stretching and striding about.

"G'mornin', Chief!" Phlute said with far too much enthusiasm. "How about those Rain Island dames, huh?"

"Yeah," Patafuerte said, the fox making his voice as rough and manly as he could. "Golly, that was a wild night, wasn't it?"

"Yeah!" the stork grunted.

"Yeah!" the fox grunted back.

"Rah!" Phlute snarled.

"RAH!" Patafuerte snarled back.

“Can you remember anything?” Phlute asked.

The fox paused. “Nope.”

“Make less noise,” Ivan grumbled, small pieces of the mail car’s desk (and the mail car’s floor) still sticking to the wolverine’s fur and clothes as he rolled over. “Drink was good, but not good as vodka.”

“That is so,” Igor mumbled.

“Looks like you four sleeping beauties are awake now,” one of the mail clerks said. “Get on your feet and get to one of the passenger cars. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here,” he added as the quartet of uninvited guests slowly shuffled past him. “Breakfast is being served in the dining car.”

Three sets of ears abruptly swiveled; Phlute, being avian, just turned his head. “Breakfast,” the wolverine said.

“Food,” the fox said.

The four immediately made for the door, crashed into each other and a scrum developed as the four (two of them still gripping their bags) tried to get through to the next car all at once.


***


Major von Fecklessenburg slid a full cup of tea toward Nunevya with his left paw, keeping his right paw hidden under the table. “I have already poured for you,” the schnauzer said. “Drink up, my dear. You look rather nervous.”

Nunevya swallowed, hard. “And if I do not drink, you will shoot me, yes? I see paw under table.”

“Come now, Nunevya Iosifevna, let us not make a scene. You will disturb your fellow diners.” The minkess glanced to her left, where a middle-aged couple was eating. The woman was trying to saw her way through the steak portion of her steak and eggs, while her husband was absorbedly reading the newspaper. Neither of them were paying the slightest attention to the conversation.

The minkess’ eyes narrowed. “I think you do not have pistol. I think you do disgusting things under the table.”

Von Fecklessenburg chuckled. “Do not taunt Igor Fedorovich, my dear.” His smile fled. “Now, drink your tea.”

She suddenly reached across the table, the schnauzer tensing until he saw that she had pulled his teacup toward her, moving it into position beside hers. Remembering someone she had seen tricking people for their money on a street, she started to move the two equally fully cups around each other, while maintaining eye contact with the schnauzer.

“You try to fool me with a cheap conjuror’s trick, Nunevya Iosifevna?” the Major said with a smirk.

In response, the minkess started moving the two cups around faster and faster. "Does the High Well Born mean to say (shuffle) that I have (shuffle) switched (shuffle) the teacups (shuffle) so that (shuffle) it is hard (shuffle) to tell (shuffle) which one (shuffle) is so obviously doctored (shuffle), and that the High Well Born cannot tell them apart? How absurd! (shuffle)."

“Enough,” von Fecklessenburg growled. His right arm moved, and the minkess withdrew her paws from the cup. With his left paw he moved one cup, then took the other. Raising it in a toast, he said, “To Her Imperial Highness, the Grand Duchess!"

Nunevya sat still.

“A coward, as well as a traitor,” the schnauzer sneered. He tossed back the contents of the teacup in one gulp, sighed and placed the cup on the table in front of him.

She sat and watched him.

Four seconds later, the Major’s ears dipped. He slumped forward, muzzle striking the tablecloth and his glasses falling off.

Nunevya breathed a sigh of relief, and noted that the schnauzer was asleep, not dead. It made some sense that he would want to take her alive for interrogation before the inevitable execution.

“Is everything all right, Ma’am?” a steward asked. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” and she gestured at the now-snoring canine. “He has had the hard night, yes. I will have fresh tea, please,” and she ordered breakfast from the menu.

“Very good, Ma’am,” the steward said. He turned away from her and gestured. “Busboy, clear this table,” and went to place her order with the kitchen.

A burly bison wearing a white steward’s jacket hauled the sleeping schnauzer out of his seat while another cleared away the tea service. “Where should I take him, Ma’am?”

Nunevya bit back the obvious reply and said, “I do not think he was in first class. Could you just put him on a bench in coach, so he can sleep?”

“Gotcha,” and the bison lugged the unconscious von Fecklessenburg away. The married couple beside her had remained entirely oblivious, and after completing their meal they left while Nunevya tucked into a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast and smoked salmon. She was sipping a second cup of tea, which she knew had not been drugged, when two figures burst into the dining car.

“Are we too late for breakfast?” Phlute asked.

“We’re starving!” Patafuerte said.

The steward cocked an eyebrow at the two unkempt figures and, the minkess noted with a sinking heart, pointed at the two seats recently vacated by the married couple beside her.

Several diners coughed or looked ill as the fox and the stork swept past them and took their seats. “Hi, Nunevya,” Patafuerte said. “I’m – “

“We’re.”

“- Glad to see you’re okay,” Henry finished, glaring at Bernie. “We’ve had an adventure.”

“So I see – and smell,” the minkess said. A movement caught her eye and she blinked. “Tell me,” she said to the tod, “why are there feathers in your tailfur?”

Patafuerte twisted in his seat and looked at his brush before giving her a horrified look. “It – It’s nothing – “

“LIES!” Phlute exclaimed. “NOTHING HAPPENED!”

“Honest!” Henry added.

Nunevya decided that she didn’t want to know what the two had been up to.


***


Igor and Ivan had taken a detour to a bathroom in one of the passenger cars, one at a time of course, to answer various calls of nature and get a quick washup. Unlike the fox and the stork, neither had any luggage, and as a result of their side trip they saw no sign of either the stork or the fox when they made their way into the dining car.

“Ah, Igor, I feel much better now,” Ivan said as the two took seats.

The bear nodded judiciously. “You smell better now too, Ivan Lavrentievich.”

The wolverine eyed him. “Who was it said earlier, ‘Do not be weird boy?’”

The fare was simple, and after the bear and the wolverine had eaten they went in search of the minkess that they had been ordered to track down and kill.

While going through several cars, Igor stopped. “Ivan, look,” and he pointed at a sleeping canine wearing a brown leather overcoat. “It is the Major.”

“Hm, that is so, Igor. Why is he sleeping?”

“Perhaps he has already killed minkess?”

“He would not still be on train.”

“Hm, that is so.”

There was a slight motion underfoot, and Ivan said, “Train is moving again. We shall wait with Major to find out his orders.”

“That is good idea, Ivan,” Igor said, and the bear and the wolverine took seats near von Fecklessenburg.




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