N.U.R.S.E.R.Y

The helicopter lands, blades slicing the air. The pilot turns the engine off, stepping out and setting the ramp. He salutes his passengers as they march down, crisp uniforms on their backs. Black sunglasses glint in the sun, reflecting the image of the cottage. Gloria wrinkles her nose at the smell of soggy sheep coming from the nearby stable. Sheep, Gloria thinks, such useless creatures. The only things they do are give scratchy wool and dung. She steps up to B. Osi, waiting for the signal. He was holding a BD (Baby Detector), and was scanning it on the house. He doesn’t seem to mind the sheep, probably due to the fact that his CS(Cerebrum Supplier) had been from Ireland. Gloria takes her clipboard out, reading their location: Wales, UK. B. Osi finishes the scan, and pockets the BD. He turns to Gloria, and nods once. “There’s a female baby in there. We need to get her out fast, and get her programmed as soon as possible. We don’t want another accident.”

Last year, the Eagle Nation had used their laboratories to mimic N.U.R.S.E.R.Y (Natal Unionization of the Radical Sanctimonious Elite Ruthless Youth), and succeeded in transforming a baby’s brain to turn against other babies. This caused havoc in the organization, and less babies were surviving. The baby was taken for examination by the scientists of N.U.R.S.E.R.Y: in her DNA, they found injected rabies, an insanity disease, which had caused the uncontrollable killings of babies. The Eagle Nation was shut down for causing so many deaths of infants: they were then ‘requisitioned’ by the N.U.R.S.E.R.Y. Not a single member of the Eagle Nation was ever heard of again.

B. Osi directs Gloria to the open window, where the female baby should be. B. Beatrice and B. Claus are putting on the costumes inside the helicopter. Gloria takes a deep breath, and thinks of all the training she’s done at HQ. She starts towards the window, like a shadow slaloming through rooftops. She reaches the windowsill, hiding in the flowers. Taking her sensor out, she finds a hidden camera under the roof, pointing towards the window. She sends the info to B. Claus, and waits for him to crack the code. Beep. Three seconds. I’ll never stop being amazed by this baby. Smiling proudly, Gloria clambers silently into the baby room. The shape of a crib, hanging from the ceiling by a strong rope, plays murmuring music. Instinctively, Gloria stuffs her earbuds in her ear canals. They cut off the hypnotic trance, and Gloria activates her collapsible ladder. Its colourful rungs, in an iridescent pattern, sport the alphabetical letters in English. It’s colours are slightly worn, many missions having been carried out with it. Gloria escalates up, reaching the last rung with ease. A sleeping form, its head covered in curly red hair, clasped tightly a glow-in-the-dark dummy. Rare species.

Gloria scoops up the child, grunting from the body weighing heavily on her shoulder. Scampering down, the kidnapper collapses the ladder back into its pen form. Softly pattering to the window, Gloria heaves the sleeping infant to the windowsill. Footsteps. The clanking of boots march past the closed door of the baby’s room. Gloria lets a breath out. When had she been holding her breath? In a green-leafed bush, B.Beatrice and B.Claus are already changed into their disguises: camouflage suits. The suits are a holographic grey, shimmering as they move. It covers them completely, up the neck. The face is hidden by helmets. They look a bit disturbing. B.Beatrice and B.Claus will be setting the enclosure around the house to avoid anyone from getting hurt. They catch the baby girl as she falls, Gloria jumping down from the windowsill. “Get to the helicopter. Everything’s set, we just need everyone to get to safety.” Gloria nods, helping B.Beatrice to carry the infant. B.Claus follows behind, ruining any evidence of their coming. After worming through the sheep poo dotted field, they hop back into the helicopter. Click. The doors lock, and B.Claus presses the squeaky button on his wheelie chair. Fshiiiiiit…..

“Boss will be pleased,” B. Osi states, wiping his chubby chin with the corner of his ‘BAD RULES’ bib. “this baby is an endangered species. This is the first red-haired infant I’ve seen in twenty years! I hope you got her programmed to a clever CS, B. Butler.” B. Butler grin. A little broccoli compote was dripping from his lips onto his “BAD’s BEST” bib. The two associates recline in their seats, idly jabbing at the dangling butterfly anti-stress toys. The meeting room is empty, the others having retired back to their apartments. The vending machine stands at a corner, the various energy bottles having been fully stocked. The dim light above the vast meeting table illuminates the two male babies. They’re both dressed formally, in white shirts splattered with colorful compotes, and wrinkled black trousers. B.Butler eagerly hints, “I picked out a great mind: she’s known worldwide! Her name is-” He stops, then clears his throat. “-classified information. I can’t tell you any more: I’ve already told you lots. Too much. Remind me why you want to know?” B. Osi rolls his eyes, clicking his pen impatiently,“I’m a journalist! N.U.R.S.E.R.Y workers will be encouraged when they hear that a red-headed baby has been found! Already, were running out of blond-heads. Superstitions are coursing through the adult world, and that means chaos. Imagine if the Boss was killed by me. That would create confusion, mayhem, violence… it would be hell! That’s what is going on over there. Having babies is becoming greatly discouraged, and there have been diseases going round because of unhealthy habits couples have been adopting. Negative energy is contagious, and adults reek it. I heard that a group of workers were protesting because they had been getting rumors of false things. We need positivity!” B. Osi breathes in deeply, waiting for B. Butler’s reaction. His brow creases, then he says, “Yeah, I guess.” He looks furtively around him, making sure no one else can hear him. “Pharaoh Cleopatra.” 

To be continued...