Sometimes, the hardest thing in the world can be making a
decision..............                                            
                  


                              RHYME & REASON
                             By Michael Demcio
                              Part VI-Choices.          
			
 		      Part 1 of 5          

	The fedora lay at her feet, though she was not even aware
that she had dropped it. Chip was nowhere in sight. Somewhere
above her within the room, a series of high intensity lights
suddenly flared to life, partially blinding her for the moment.
As her vision adjusted, what she had just begun to glimpse within
the shadows of the room, now became even more frighteningly,
*terrifyingly* clear. 
     "Hello my dear Gadget." Ivana's voice cooed almost
affectionately from the speakers above her, "*Welcome, home*."
     Still Gadget stared at the sight, unmoving, barely even able
to bring to her mind a single thought. 
     "Well?" Ivana cooed once more from the speakers after a
moment, her voice pressing, as a tone of curiosity was evident
within it. "Don't you like it? I went through *so* much trouble
to set all this up just for you."
     "*Oh, no*." Gadget whispered in a barely audible voice, her
heart sinking within her. She couldn't believe her eyes. 
     Spread out before her a dozen feet ahead within what
appeared to be an immense storeroom, was indeed what Ivana had
called "home". At least a part of it. It was her old home
actually which Ivana spoke of, within the discarded airplane at
the airport junkyard. The portion of it that Ivana had recreated
here had not been one of her  favorite parts of the house. In
fact, in her memory of her old home it was the part she liked the
least, in spite of the fact that it was a part that she herself
had created. This part was the series of traps that she had built
within the plane near the cockpit, meant for any pesky salesmen
who came calling after her father had died. There had been dozens
of traps, almost too many to keep track of. Some harmless, some
deadly, the range of them ran the gamut from simple items like
weighted nets and plungers, along with plunger darts, to the more
lethal end of the spectrum with flame throwers, a full size safe,
a wrecking ball, and an axe or two, as well as harpoon guns,
swords, darts and various sized knives. Everything but the
kitchen sink had been in that setup since she was still using it
at the time. Although seemingly an extremely overboard method of
a deterrent, it had certainly served its purpose to her
satisfaction back then when she had wanted to be alone. No one
had dared to cross the "minefield" that activated the traps until
that fateful day when Monterey Jack had arrived with Zipper, Chip
and Dale.| All of the traps were here, at least as far as she
could see. However, this frighteningly foreboding sight was
inconsequential to what met her sight at the other end of
the traps. Upon a tall platform out of the "minefield" which had
been in the cockpit of the old plane, two more traps were
visible. These traps though, were not the last two in which she
had caught and confronted Chip, Dale, Monterey and Zipper. Those
seemed to be the only traps missing. The traps that had replaced
them here had never been in her setup and were also different
from the others, in that *someone was already caught within each
of them*. To the right side of the stage, the trap consisted of a
wrecking ball suspended from the ceiling, high above the
platform. Beneath it, looking nervously at her from within its
shadow, a figure lay face up upon the platform, held there by
heavy metal clamps which were locked over his arms. This figure
was *Sparky*, a good friend of hers who she had first met via a
case involving Professor Nimnul.{} Even after he had moved to
M.I.T. to participate in lab experiments with his partner Buzz,
he and Gadget still exchanged letters frequently and to this day
remained quite close. On the left, about a foot away upon the
same stage stood the other trap. It consisted of a very deep,
mouse sized dunking tank, identical to the ones used where
players tried to hit a target with a ball, sending a person
sitting on the spring loaded platform into the water. Upon this
platform was a sight even more horrifying than the sight of
Sparky in deadly peril. For upon the platform was.........*a
coffin*.  Before the headstone lying atop it hung a magnifying
glass, allowing her from her distance to read the name upon it.
The coffin was that of ..............her late father, *Gewgaw
Hackwrench*. Now her father's last resting place which had once
been nestled peacefully beside a beautiful tree near the airport,
lay there upon the platform like some comic player upon a
carnival's fairground. 
     "What...." Gadget began to say in a near whisper, her voice
quickly rising with each word until reaching a furious crescendo
of pitch, "........have you...*DONE*?!!!" she screamed, staring
at the sight. Her hands clenched tight into fists at her sides,
the expression upon her face spoke of her mixed emotions between
astounded shock, painful sorrow, and livid rage.
     "Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! *Calm* yourself my dear Gadget!" Ivana said
soothingly. "There's a perfectly good reason why I've arranged
this little display." Pausing momentarily, she continued. "It all
concerns why I've led you here in the first place, for I've led
you here to offer you a choice or two. Hopefully a  little
business proposition can be arranged." 
     Now Gadget couldn't believe her ears. Her mouth dropped open
as she felt the depths of her shock surpassing what it had been
mere seconds ago. Turning an incredulous expression up at the
speakers where Ivana's voice echoed all around her, she fairly
growled her response, pointing to each piece of evidence to
emphasize her words. "You desecrated my father's resting place,
you have one of my closest friends about to be crushed, you may
already have killed Chip, you've been tormenting and torturing
the rest of us for hours......and you want to make me 
A BUSINESS DEAL?!"
     "Exactly." Ivana said simply.
     Blinking up at the speaker, Gadget was dumbfounded by
Ivana's casual response. /She's *crazy*!/ she thought, shaking
her head. Closing her eyes and clearing her thoughts, she took in
a deep breath. After a moment or two of thought, she began to
calm down. Staring at Sparky's pleading gaze to help him, Gadget
knew she could do nothing but to stand where she was. If this was
an exact recreation of her salesman traps, then she knew that she
could get through it with virtually no problem. Even after all
this time of having left her old home, she still felt she had the
layout of the triggers memorized. However, knowing Ivana and her
penchant for ruthlessness, if she didn't listen to this
"proposition" but simply delved into the minefield to try to
get Sparky and her father out of their predicaments, then Ivana
would simply trip the traps anyway. With a sigh, she hung her
head. "What's this all about?" she asked with a disgusted and
tired edge to her voice, pointing toward the traps. "And what
have you done with Chip? Is he somewhere in here?" she added a
moment later, picking up his hat.
     "Allow me to explain." Ivana continued, "As you can see,
I've recreated your salesman traps using the very same items
which I took from your old airplane home." 
     "So?" Gadget asked with a shrug.
     "So?!" Ivana cried in a shocked tone. "Have you every really
*appreciated* your own genius? The setup and most of the choices
of weapons are brilliant! I could hardly have done better with a
trap myself, i-"
     "What's your point?!" Gadget asked curtly with exasperation,
cutting her off. She didn't appreciate Ivana holding her in the
same league as herself, even if it was for ingenuity. Now,
looking as if for the first time at the vast assortment of lethal
items which she had put into the trap's configuration, she stood
there in shock at *herself*, wondering and doubting at the extent
of her sanity when she had built the thing. True that her
motivation for building the device had been based a great deal
on- 
     "I know you had a *very good reason* for building them in
the first place, Gadget." Ivana said, her tone of voice returning
to its sinister, derisive tone once more. "That being because-" 
     "Don't *talk* about that!" Gadget snapped, tensing. "You
obviously know, so *please*,. just leave it at that." she added a
moment later, her voice sounding pained. She knows just what
buttons to push. she thought with a shudder. 
     "You watch what you say, and I *might* watch what I say."
Ivana stated venomously. "I don't like being cut off, especially
when I'm being generous."
     /Easy, Gadget! *Ea-sy*!/ Gadget repeated in her mind,
struggling to keep from snidely replying to Ivana's comment of
"generous."
     "As I was saying Gadget," Ivana continued, "I admire your
handiwork. You have a very definite flair when it comes to
inventing, *especially* when it comes to weapons. Like the time
you attacked Bubbles and his henchmice in the cola cult? Those
invention weapons had style!"
     ".........Thank you." Gadget mumbled, a bad taste forming in
her mouth at the words. She didn't really know what else to say,
as she had resisted the urge to tell Ivana to get to the point
once more.     
                                                                      
     "You're welcome." Ivana stated graciously. So in
appreciation of your creativity, I'm prepared to make you an
offer. Would you like to hear it?"
     /I don't think I have a choice!/ Gadget commented to
herself. "One question." she asked curiously.
     "Yes?" 
     "If you had been planning all along to give me this offer,"
Gadget asked, "Then why did you trick me and the others into that
aquarium full of ice water? If I had drowned, you never would
have been able to get me here now."
     Ivana scoffed at the remark. "Oh my dear Gadget," she stated
as if she were a teacher speaking to a student. "You *do*
underrate your abilities! Despite what I said at the time, that
ice water bath was simply for the purpose of making certain that
you and your friends were fully awake for the coming game. I knew
you would find the only way out that I had left. You are a after
all, a genius like me."
     /Why do I feel like *berating* myself?/ Gadget wondered
wryly, feeling disgusted as well at Ivana's boasting. She sighed
inwardly, her heart aching as Sparky continued to look
desperately at her. /Might as well get this over with./ she
thought. She knew that whatever Ivana was about to offer her, it
wasn't going to be good. "So what are these "choices" you have
for me?" she asked apprehensively.
     "It's really quite simple." Ivana said. "In exchange for
your safe return from this building, as well as the safe return
of your father and Sparky, all you have to do is to lure your
friends into this room in the dark,.........and allow your traps
to annihilate them. I will give you a way to avoid being caught
within the traps as well." 
     "What?!" Gadget cried, once more not believing her ears. 
      "The bomb would finish you all off eventually it's true,"
Ivana stated with a bored tone to her voice, continuing as if she
had not heard the tone of Gadget's incredulous outburst, "for
it's impossible that all of you could have found Chip *and* found
your way out of here before time ran out. The only problem is
that such a death has no originality, again, no *style* to it. To
have your friends meet their end as they almost did once before,
at the hand of your homemade traps though......Ah! Now that would
be style! The *irony* would be simply *delicious*! Like history
coming full circle. Don't you see, my dear Gadget?" Ivana stated,
her voice now a throaty whisper that sounded as if she were
trying to tempt the young inventor. "I've seen how you acted on
cases where your ire was truly aroused." Bubbles?> Baby
Thadius?>> All those others? I've seen how ruthless you can be!
And looking at these traps as well? I'd say that your penchant
for violence is about as capable as mine! Why not put that talent
to work for you now? Save yourself as well as your dearly
departed father and Sparky!   
     "You're *crazy*!" Gadget shouted, not caring now what Ivana
might say to upset her. "I would *never* desert my friends or do
something that could hurt them, let alone kill them! They're my
family now as much as my father was!"       
     "Come now, Gadget." Ivana soothed, continuing with her
tempting tone. "Better for some of you to escape than for *all*
of you to perish. For escape from here *is* virtually
impossible!"      
     "*Nothing's* impossible!" Gadget cried. "Besides the fact
that I know I could never trust you to keep your end of a deal,
not that I'm saying that I would ever even *think* of accepting
such an offer, I don't even believe that really *is* my father up
there! You've tricked us before with disguises. That's probably
just an empty wooden box! A box that looks just like the coffin I
made for my father and with his headstone, yes, but a fake one
all the same!" During the moment that she had cleared her head to
think, she had recalled how Ivana had tricked them with someone
disguised as Desa'rae Delure and had disguised Dale as an enemy
as well a little while back. This had led her to her conclusion
about "her father's coffin". Sparky though, was another story for
she couldn't figure out a reason why Ivana would put anyone but
the real Sparky in such mortal danger. 
     "Very well." Ivana replied after an angered and impatient
sigh. "You've made your decision, your first choice, so this now
brings you to your second choice. Namely who *might* you be able
to save?" she asked, her voice chillingly cold and dark.
     "*Might*?" Gadget asked as though caught by surprise. She
looked from the speakers back toward the platform.
     "These traps of yours have a dual use. If you won't lead
your friends to hazard their way through them.....*you will
hazard them*." Ivana replied. "You'll have all of ten seconds to
get past them to the platform.....if you survive." she said,
pausing significantly, "If you reach the top of the platform
before I set off the traps there anyway, a pressure sensitive
trigger hidden there will activate them automatically. You'll
only have time to save *one* of them. I know you're quite fond of
saying that's nothing's impossible Gadget," Ivana stated, her
voice a deadly grumble. "but here I have found something that's
definitely impossible, for you haven't the time to save both of
them. You'll have only four seconds to reach Sparky, free him
from his bonds and pull him out of the wrecking ball's path, or
four seconds to stop the digital timer which will release your
father's coffin into the dunking tank-"
     "I *told* you I don't *believe* that's my father up there,
you *psychopath*!" Gadget yelled, challenging her.
     "The dunking tank is filled the most corrosive acid known to
science." Ivana continued undaunted, her voice sounding more
lethal now than the acid she was describing. "It will doubtless
eat through that wooden coffin like tissue paper, as well as
what's inside it...........Oh and by the way," she continued
after a thoughtful sigh, a cruelly humorous note now entering
into her voice, "only because I feel it *might* get you to
reconsider my previous offer, though it would spoil the delicious
joke it would have made when you would have found out eventually,
I feel it only fair to tell you that you *might* be right.
Although I can guarantee you that the coffin is not empty as you
say, you are right that it *might* not be your father in there
after all.......Have you considered though, that the person in
there might be *Chip*?!" she leered. "Though whether he's alive
or not I won't tell you. You did after all, insult me, calling me
*crazy* and all......So who will you choose, Gadget?" she asked
tauntingly, "Whose life do you value more? Who do you love more
as a friend? Chip or Sparky? Or do you value a *friend's* life
above the memory of your father? You'll remember that I haven't
said that it wasn't your father in there after all. Who do you
value more Gadget? What will you choose?" she asked, and with
these next words, a spotlight now shown down from above upon each
of the traps on the platform, emphasizing symbolically each of
her words, "*Life?....or *Death*?" After yet another pause, the
tone of her next words clearly communicated that though perhaps
premature in its execution, she was nonetheless immensely
enjoying Gadget's reaction to her little "joke". "You have one
minute to reconsider or to begin the game. If you do not let me
know before time runs out, the traps will be sprung...... Fifty
nine...." she began to count "fifty eight...."  

     Gasping as Ivana mentioned that Chip might be the one in the
trap, Gadget now turned her full attention to the coffin on the
platform, now realizing the possible significance of Chip's hat
being here, with him being nowhere in sight. She *hadn't*
considered that possibility, though such an ironic trick was
*definitely* within Ivana's sick sense of humor, she realized.
"Oh, no!" she whispered, pressing her hands to her lips. Moments
before, her choice had been clear. Believing the coffin to be
empty, the only logical option had been to save Sparky. Now
though, she was completely torn between the choices. She and Chip
had just begun developing a relationship with each other that
went beyond their normal bond of friendship as "family" and
teammates. Was her stirrings of love for him more important than
Sparky's life? On the other hand, Sparky had been dragged into
this completely as an innocent bystander. Ivana's revenge was
against the Rescue Rangers for whatever reason she had. Sparky
was just being used as a pawn in this game. Did the life of a
innocent bystander as well as a friend take precedence over
Chip's? She wouldn't even consider the first option, that of
betraying her friends. She knew Chip and Sparky well enough that
they would never want their lives to be spared at the expense of
others, especially those of their closest friends. The same held
true for her. She would rather die first than to let her friends
come to harm. As Ivana continued with her emotionally tearing
questions, she grew more and more confused, a definite choice
less and less clear as she shifted her gaze rapidly back and
forth between the two traps on the platform. The countdown began.
/Chip? Dad? Sparky?/ she thought. How could she choose? *How*?
What if that really was her father in there? she considered. She
cherished her father's memory dearly and she didn't know what it
would do to her to lose him again in this way. To never visit him
again? The thought was practically unbearable as well.  
     "Twenty eight......twenty seven.......twenty six......."
Ivana continued to count down.
     /How can I choose?/ Gadget thought, frantically,
desperately. Whatever I do, I'm going to lose someone I care
about! Her throat tightening with emotional anguish, her mind
began to cloud. She could barely even think anymore. How can I- 
     "Three.....tw-"
     "I've decided." Gadget stated finally in a defeated voice. 
     "And?" Ivana pressed.
     Taking a deep breath and straightening, Gadget stepped up to
the beginning of the mat which covered the triggers for the
traps. "I'd never take the first choice." she said defiantly with
an air of pride. 
     "Hmmph." Ivana mumbled, clearly disappointed. "Very well. If
I can't destroy you through trying to have you go against your
own sense of morality and dignity, I'll destroy you this
way.....*Either* way, my vendetta against the others and
especially against *you* will be carried out! This score *will*
be settled!" she snarled.
     "*Me*?!" Gadget cried, clearly surprised once more as she
looked up at the speaker. "Why m-"
     "*Go*!" Ivana snapped.
     The lights went out.
     Though clearly taken aback by Ivana's comment, Gadget was
even moreso stunned by the sudden absence of lights which now
caused her to hesitate. After being used to seeing for that short
time with those intensely bright lights, the sudden darkness was
now completely overwhelming. Not even the dimmed emergency lights
from the hallway outside brought any illumination to her vision.
She couldn't see a single thing, not that she had any time to
worry about such matters. /Get going!/ she commanded herself,
sprinting forward. At least a half second had passed while she
had stood there in the dark. A half second more than she was sure
she could afford. She wasn't sure just how long it took to cross
the "minefield" at a run. Monterey had been the only one who had
ever attempted it. She could only hope that she could make it in
the nine seconds or so she believed she had left. However, while
Monterey, Chip, Dale and Zipper had made it across part of the
"minefield" without upsetting the traps, they had at least been
able to see where some of the triggers were. She had only her
memory to work from, and her memory had been developed upon
*walking* through, not *running through*.  One misstep or
miscalculation would spell certain disaster. For even if the trap
she tripped was not lethal, it would certainly be lethal to
Sparky and whoever else was on that platform. They would both be
utterly destroyed from the time such a setback would cost her. 


                                Part 2 of 5


     Jumping where she thought she should jump, and dodging when
she thought she should dodge, she put everything she had into her
run, using an equal amount of memory and instinct to guide her.
To her astonishment, she only tripped a slight handful of the
traps, while she found that her speed was thankfully more than
enough to carry her safely past them. As one of the swords
stabbed down close behind her, and the sound of a score of
plunger darts whizzed around her, she could feel that she was
almost to the platform and she wondered what she would do when
she got there. For she still hadn't decided. Each choice was a
decision too painful too make, with consequences that would be
too painful to live with. She also knew if she couldn't make her
decision moments before, she didn't even try to come to one now.
Not when all her concentration was centered upon simply *getting*
to the platform.
     A few more traps were tripped, the heat from the flame
thrower singed her hair, and at last she arrived at the platform,
bouncing hard off it's surface to the floor.
     "Five....." Ivana began to count down again, "four....."
     Recovering herself immediately, she reached out to either
side of her, feeling for the electrical cord which she suspected
to be close by. She had lined herself up with it upon first
stepping up to the "minefield" trigger mat, since it would be the
shortest route to get upon the platform. Her right hand found the
cord first and grabbing it,  she raced up the cord toward the top
of the platform. /*Who do I choose*?/ she wondered frantically
once again, her mind now racing. /*And how do I find them*?/ 
     "One....." 
     Gaining the top of the platform, Gadget shielded her eyes as
the intense lighting flared to life once more around her. /*Four
seconds*!/ she thought wildly, forcing her dazzled eyes open
against the brightness. Flashing her gaze to the left and the
right, seeing that each trap was equally distant from her
position, she knew in that fraction of a second she had no more
time to think................*and finally arrived at her
decision*. Instantly breaking to the right, she sprang forward to
where Sparky lay, knowing that doom was falling from above even
as she acted. Her hands flying to the metal clamps that were
fastened about his wrists, binding them to the floor, she dug her
fingers into the pair simultaneously and with a vicious pull,
unlocked them both. Grabbing Sparky's wrists she hauled him up
onto his feet. In the same fluid motion of helping Sparky up, she
pivoted slightly, and turning her head.......threw them both from
the platform onto the mat below. In that instant before she threw
them from the platform, she had picked out a place on the mat
that was relatively clear of triggers, to guarantee that they
hadn't just thrown themselves out of the frying pan and into the
fire. A second later, their ears were assaulted with a
splintering crash as the wrecking ball smashed its way through
where Sparky had lain a moment before, continuing on its
downward course until it rebounded off of the floor below the
platform. As she landed upon the "minefield"'s trigger mat with
Sparky, Gadget couldn't help but be aware of the violently
hissing and churning sound behind her. The one that told of the
dunking tank's platform dropping its concealed but precious cargo
into the corrosive acid. Her heart ached with the sound. 

     Looking around toward the platform once more with a painful
yearning, she looked back to see Sparky rolling over to his side,
trying to get to his feet. /First thing's first./ she thought
grimly, swiftly diving on top of Sparky and pinning him to the
floor as she bound his wrists together with her tail, holding
them down with one hand. As Sparky looked at her in complete
shock, unable to understand or to express his surprise at her
actions, Gadget ripped open the white lab coat that he always
wore and began to dig her fingers in upon the fur around his
chest, neck and face, her eyes sternly focused. After a moment's
examination with Sparky's expression growing more and more wild
and frightened, Gadget finally visibly relaxed. /Either this
person had plastic surgery and fur grafts, or this *is* really
Sparky./ she thought finally, having seen no hidden sign of a
mask's edge or any makeup. Releasing his hands and sliding off of
his chest, she helped Sparky to his feet once more. As Sparky
removed the piece of tape that had gagged his mouth, he was about
to speak, a question evident upon his face, but Gadget held him
silent with a sorrowful look, hanging her head and placing a
gentle hand upon his chest. Taking him by the hand, she led him
cautiously the half foot or so forward to the small area right
before the platform that was completely clear of triggers.  

     Turning, Gadget left Sparky standing where he was as she
ascended the electrical cord to the platform once more. Slowly,
painfully, as Sparky watched her sympathetically from below, she
approached the dunking tank. Watching the swirling mists for a
few seconds that now floated above it from the acid's work a
moment ago, her breath coming in slight hitches, she finally
stepped up to the tank's edge and looked into the liquid within.
There was nothing left inside but the clear acid. Swallowing
hard, she closed her eyes tightly and turned away from the tank.
/I-I'd better go....and try to find the others./ she thought with
a heavy heart, choking down the emotions that were now welling
within her from the choice she had made. She would try to deal
with this later when it wasn't so fresh in her mind. Right now,
she knew couldn't afford to fall apart. Not when her friends were
somewhere out there, counting on her to help them all escape from
this place. Descending back down from the platform, she
approached Sparky who now wore an expression of sorrow as well as
sympathy for the pain she knew she couldn't hide from her face.
Taking his hand, she began to lead him carefully back across the
"minefield". Clearing the trigger mat, and releasing Sparky's
hand, Gadget stopped for a moment as she closed her eyes. Bending
over, she carefully picked up Chip's fedora which she had left
there. Unable to look at it, she handed the fedora behind her to
Sparky who uncomfortably held it in his hands for a moment before
finally holding it at his side away from where Gadget was. 
Standing, Gadget turned back to him, her eyes still lowered.
"Come on." She whispered finally, with something close to a
steady voice as she drew in a shuddering breath. "The others
might need us." She began to turn toward the doorway.    

     "A moment, my dear Gadget." Ivana's voice called out. "You
forgot your prize for beating the game"
     As Gadget and Sparky looked up, alert but unsure of what to
expect, a glint of light suddenly caught their eyes as something
tumbled down from the darkness of the high ceiling. As the
objects landed at their feet, Gadget gasped as she recognized one
of them, picking the pair up.  One of the objects was a
medallion, similar with it's attached ribbon to an Olympic medal.
The medallion had been a first place award which her father had
won in the one of the most highly acclaimed air races in the
world among animal aviators. Being one of, if not the best pilot
of his time, her father had won many others like it, but as this
particular medal had been for his very first, first place win,
she knew it had held a special place of pride in his heart.
Knowing this, after her father had died, she had affectionately
placed this single medallion once more around his neck when she
had buried him. With tears beginning to well within her eyes,
she separated the medallion's ribbon from the other object it had
been tied to. 

     "Chip would have wanted you to have this." Ivana stated in a
straightforward tone as Gadget did so.
     The object was a mouse sized Christmas card, but not one
that she could recall of having received before, as she kept the
ones that she had been given as mementos. While still choked up
from the significance of the medallion, Gadget still found the
strength to open the beautiful looking card and to read it. It
was dated for this coming Christmas, and as Ivana had said, it
was from Chip. In it, with picturesque sentences that came out as
melodious as the most beautiful poetry, the card expressed the
extent of his love for her as well as his deep admiration.
Everything that he had thought and felt about her, everything
that he dreamed and wished was told to her upon the lines within.
True she had known for some time that he was attracted to her,
but this! /*But this*!/ she thought, the tears now flowing freely
as she finished the card she hadn't been able to stop reading, in
spite of the pain it now brought. 
     "*You* make the choice as to who was in there." Ivana stated
in an accusing tone.
     As Gadget stood unmoving, staring at the card and the medal
in her hands, Sparky was about to move to comfort her when
Monterey Jack, Dale and Zipper abruptly dashed into the room.
     Barely even noticing Sparky who stood by her side,
Monterey's face held a joyous grin as he drew himself up behind
Gadget. "Oh Gadget luv!" he exclaimed with extreme relief as he
saw her standing there. "Thank goodness you're..............all
right?" he finished in an uncertain whisper, seeing the tears
rolling down her agonized face as she turned toward him.
"Gadget?" he asked softly.
     She fell sobbing into his arms. 
     
               *                 *                *

     2:50..........

     Within the cold and darkened reaches of one of the city's
art museums, the leader of the Rescue Rangers stood. His back
pressed against the pedestal of the towering statue of Hercules,
a look of imminent peril spread over his face at the sight above
him. Moments before,......while seated upon the foot of the
statue of Hercules, he'd been reading over the latest message
clue. One of the many clues left to him by Ivana thus far, in the
warped game she'd devised where the Rangers were unwilling
participants. Upon the latest message paper left to him he'd read
these words: "Find a sandwich and remove the bread, and what
you'll have in it's stead, is what's most known about history,
and the very next place in this mystery." In spite of the
seriousness of the situation, Chip just couldn't help himself as
a half smile curled his lips, a curious, bemused expression
spreading over his face as he read the odd notice. The smile
quickly faded though, as his eye fell upon something at the
bottom of the paper. An arrow. Made up of three lightning bolts
and pointing to the side of the paper, Chip flipped the paper
over, a chill running through him as he suspected what the symbol
was a prelude to: namely Ivana's by now deadly trademark
punchlines. Glancing at the flip side of the paper, he read this
short sentence: "Like these statues, a stationary figure can
become "perm"anently still.........."

     Kicking backwards, Chip hurled himself off of the statue
even as the room lit up around him in a flash of light, the place
where he'd been sitting an instant ago exploding into chunks of
stone, as a lightning bolt tore into the statue's foot from
above. Twisting around as he fell in an effort to land upon his
feet, Chip only half succeeded as he landed on his side upon the
hard stone floor. Unfortunately, that very side happened to be
the one that had been injured earlier in Ivana's attack upon a
public library. Crying out, stars danced before his eyes as
various sized chunks of the blasted statue began to rain down
upon and around him. Gritting his teeth against the combined pain
and without waiting for his vision to clear, he quickly rolled
himself onto his hands and knees and pushed himself back onto his
feet. Crouching thus for a split second, he then hurled himself
backward once more, this time his back hitting against the base
of the statue a foot away as another lightning bolt flashed past
him, once again ripping into the place he'd yet been occupying an
instant ago. As the new bolt now tore into the floor in front of
him, Chip once again forced himself to his feet and fumbled his
way behind the base of the statue, using the smooth stone beneath
his fingertips to guide him as his vision slowly cleared. As the
corner of the statue came beneath his touch, he stopped, and as
his vision came into focus once more, he carefully snuck a peek
around the corner of the stone pedestal. His look was answered by
yet another lightning bolt flashing at him, annihilating a
portion of the corner part of the pedestal. Ducking back around
the corner ahead of the bolt, Chip flattened himself back against
the stone. As the massive energy burst ended, he quickly snuck
another peek around the corner and caught sight of what he was
looking for before yet another bolt had a chance to leap out at
him.   

     Though he could not clearly see what was firing at him due
to his position and the darkness, he didn't have to see it to
know what he was up against. It was the lightning and ice gun
that used to be a part of Professor Nimnul's mobile weather
machine.* It seemed to be mounted upon a camera near the ceiling
over "Zeus'" head. /How appropriate,/ he wryly conceded,
/considering Zeus's ability to "throw" lightning bolts!/ The last
he had seen of that machine was after that battle in the bank,
when the Rangers had left it behind along with a half frozen
Professor Nimnul for the police to pick up(*). The "punchline"
had been referring to the hairdryers taken from a beauty salon
which the Rangers had used to help defeat him. For all he knew,
the weather device had been taken to some evidence room along
with all of the other devices of Nimnul's that had been captured
from previous skirmishes with the Rangers. That is, until Ivana
had somehow gotten her hands on it. 

     /She's mixing cases *together* now. Why?/ Chip pondered to
himself as a series of bolts began to pound into the body of the
statue this time, sending a small shower of pebbles raining down
on him. As he had realized before, the locations that Ivana was
sending him to for clues, had to do with cases from his team's
past. The art museum he was in, had to do with a case involving
the former head gangster in town, Ignatso Ratskiwatski.**
Professor Nimnul had been involved in that case, or more
precisely one of his inventions-the gigantico gun-had. Why Ivana
was using a weapon of Nimnul's was easy to figure, considering
her M.O. Why she was using a weapon of Nimnul's from a different
case entirely, wasn't. He knew that although it had been a bit
bent in some places, the Gigantico gun had been recovered from
the wreckage of Ratskiwatski's mansion, still intact and
operational. The forensics lab report he'd seen had confirmed it.
Though it had been partially dismantled for safe storage in the
evidence room as he knew the same had been done with many of
Nimnul's devices...../Why couldn't Ivana have just stolen it,
reconstructed it, and made use of it to shrink me out of
existence? If she wants to beat me in the game, why not use any
means possible? She's certainly ruthless enough for that./ It
didn't make sense, but at any rate he would have to ponder it
later. Right now he realized, he had to get himself to safety so
he could get back on the trail to his friends. He knew he
couldn't stay behind the statue much longer. Another few strikes
with the kind of force the lightning gun was putting out, and
he knew the whole thing would fall right on top of him. /Well, it
shouldn't be too hard to dodge those bolts and make my way out of
here./ he thought to himself, taking a breath. /Even with my
injuries./ Readying himself, he was about to make a break from
the statue when his ears caught a very familiar sound. In fact, a
multitude of  that same very familiar sound. The loudly droning
sound of whirling propellers...........  

     Recognizing the sound instantly, he pivoted, pressing his
back once more against the stone block. Swinging his gaze to both
the left and right, he hoped with a sinking feeling that his ears
were playing tricks on him. They weren't. A squadron of five toy
planes, exact in type to the one that Buffy Ratskiwatski had
nearly killed him in**,  came into his field of vision and were
now swooping fiercely through the air, a few dozen feet away.
Looking to his right, another five toy planes were circling
through the air at the same distance as well. "Oh boy." Chip
whispered in trepidation, sizing up the situation. He gulped. /I
guess she didn't shrink me because she wanted to have more *fun*
getting rid of me! I wonder if this is what she meant by a
"sandwich"?/ he wondered worriedly as pebbles from the pummeled
statue continued to rain down around him. Suddenly, just as he
began to wonder why none of the planes were moving to attack him,
another toy aircraft appeared to his right, flying separately
from the formation and making a beeline for the body of the
statue......
               *              *              *
     A look of imminent peril spreading across his face, Chip
sprinted forward in a mad dash for his life, hoping he could get
clear. The charge that the plane was loaded down with exploded
upon impact, finishing the job that the lightning had begun of
destroying the statue. Although successfully dodging the hurtling
fragments of stone as he ran, Chip realized that all bets were
now off from getting out of the room let alone the museum,
easily. For as the blast subsided, the planes were immediately in
pursuit of him, their propellers buzzing madly. Between dodging
the lightning's gun's blasts, hoping that it didn't hit and
detonate any of the planes near him, all of Chip's agility was
pushed to the limit as he dove under and over the divebombing
planes in an acrobatic dogfight that quickly began to tire
him out. He could not hide behind any of the other statues, the
planes just chased him out into the open again. He could not even
begin to get near the exiting doorways to the room, as the
attacking planes constantly blocked his path. 

     Playing this deadly game of dodge for close to a minute,
nearly getting cut to ribbons many times by the collective
propellers of the toy planes, Chip tried to ignore the strain of
his injuries as he tried to piece together a coherent train of
thought. /I gotta..../ "Yikes!" he exclaimed, getting singed once
again in a close strike by the lightning gun,/.....gotta figure
some way *out* of this! Those planes won't let me leave-/ "Woah!"
he shouted, dodging another plane, here, /...but if I don't,
either those things or that gun is gonna-/ "Yow!" he cried out, a
propeller just barely missing his head, ....*puff!*.... /..gonna
turn me extra crispy or chop me to bits! Is there any way-/ he
wondered, stopping to dive over one low flying plane and dodge
another /-that I could get control of that gun?/ It seemed almost
impossible. The camera upon which it was mounted was situated a
short distance above the head of the statue of Zeus. He could
theoretically climb the statue to take control of the gun, but
the statues were extremely slippery to climb. He would probably
get annihilated by the exploding planes or the gun before he even
made it halfway up to the top of the carving. /I don't-/ he
thought frantically, dodging once more,/...see what choice I
have. *I'm out of options*!/ Skirting another statue in his
dodging, he pivoted toward the Zeus statue and was about to
attempt the almost suicidal plan when by chance he happened to
observe something. Ducking another lightning bolt, the sizzling
beam blasted into the base of the statue behind him. Breaking off
the corner of the base, the smallish chunk fell to the floor and
began a haphazard skip/roll to a few feet away. Now many feet
away from the damaged statue, Chip watched as the plane nearest
to the fallen fragment suddenly veered away from its pack and
made a nosedive toward the still rolling fragment, slamming into
it and exploding upon impact with the floor. Covering his eyes
from the shooting stone chips, Chip rolled with the force of the
explosion. 


                                Part 3 of 5


     Recovering himself as the planes regained their equilibrium
as well and continued the chase, Chip immediately saw the
significance of the event....and a possible way out. /Of course!/
he thought now with a ray of hope. /That chunk of stone was
pretty much my size! These planes must be locked onto me, or
anything near my size through some kind of motion detection field
in this room! It doesn't explain that first plane, but if I can
fool the rest of these planes with a few more "lookalikes", I can
get out of here!/ Clinging to that hope, Chip immediately put his
new plan into action. The destroyed statue of Hercules had many
suitable "lookalikes" laying upon it's sizable base and around
the floor. Sprinting toward the ruined statue, he jumped upon the
pedestal, continuing to dodge the planes and the lightning
blasts, and began to roll a suitable fragment toward the edge of
the base. Timing himself so that he was clear of any planes for
that short moment that the lightning gun was charging between
blasts, he swiftly swiped out a foot, kicking the fragment off
the base. /Now-/ he thought, simultaneously diving off of the
base and behind the stone block to where the lighting gun
couldn't reach him. /-comes the hard part. *Doing nothing*. Time
to see if I was right and whether my timing's on the money./ For
the moment, he was safe from the lightning gun, but he knew the
planes could still pick him off. As he hunkered behind the
statue's base, stock still and very aware of the four planes
converging fast upon him, he could not see the fragment that he'd
kicked off, bouncing away across the floor, nor of the two planes
nearest to it which changed course toward it. All he could do was
hope..........  

     As the simultaneous explosion of the two planes rocked the
room, the wind from the intense blast knocking the rest of the
planes for a brief loop, Chip grinned with elation, not knowing
since when he'd heard a more beautiful sound. "Yes!" he shouted,
his hands covering his ears. /I was right! Just a few more
diversions like that and I'm home free!/ The explosion having
bought him a second from the planes nearest to him, Chip jumped
atop the statue's base once more, rushing to find another
"lookalike" to repeat the process. Five tiring performances later
of this same trick,..........*and the planes were no more*. /Now
to take care of that gun./ he thought with a vengeful air of
satisfaction, as he began to dodge its bolts for the final time.
/If there's a guard here, he surely alerted the police after all
this commotion, but even though I think that's gun's attuned to
me as well, I don't want to take any chances./ As he ran into the
next room full of statues, crossing through the doorway, the
lightning gun abruptly stopped firing as if it sensed that its
target was no longer present. Turning around, Chip withdrew a
handmade sling from one his main jacket pockets, and taking a
small metal ball bearing out from another pocket, he loaded it
into the sling. Whipping the sling around like a propeller and
taking careful aim, he let the bearing fly. Whipping through the
air, the bearing smacked itself against the antennae like ending
of the gun, breaking it off. Stepping carefully through the
doorway into the room, Chip watched as the lighting gun once more
swiveled toward his position, preparing to fire. However, without
the antennae ending to focus the gun's discharge, all the machine
could do now was to shoot showers of electric streams in every
direction in the air, none of them even coming close to the
ground. Hastily leaving a note of the gun's whereabouts upon the
destroyed statue for the police to find, Chip quickly withdrew
himself from the room to a more deserted part of the museum to
try and ponder the latest clue..........
           
     2:57......

     Aware of the sounds of the police bustling about upon the
floor above him, Chip sat against a wall in a room full of
paintings, his mind's eye turned inward. This latest clue that
Ivana had given him was proving to be quite as puzzling as the
rest he'd encountered thus far. He hadn't expected it to be so
hard though, what with the almost ridiculous way that it sounded,
but with a begrudging thought of acknowledgement, he remembered
that deception was quickly proving to be Ivana's stock in trade.
/Sandwich.....sandwich...../ he thought, trying to pull some
connection together between the words and the clues he'd come
across thus far upstairs. 

     The rhyme had mentioned "sandwich" and "bread". He'd
immediately discounted the idea of the verse referring to a clue
he could find in the museum's cafeteria downstairs. Although
Ivana had tricked him earlier with an easy clue which he almost
hadn't deciphered since he'd made it harder than it was, he
didn't think that was the case here. Reason being was that Ivana
had not used the same trick twice thus far. /Still,/ he
considered, /if I don't come up with anything else in the next
few minutes, I'll go downstairs to check it out anyway./ "Bread."
he murmured, a few moments later. /Could the word have to do with
the *money* for admissions that the museum took in every day? He
shrugged inwardly. It's worth a shot./ he decided. Getting up, he
made his way to a wall map of the museum and finding where the
director/curator's office was located, he began to hurry his way
there. /After all,/ he thought, /the curator would be the one to
handle the funds, so there should be a vault in the office. The
only thing I *still* can't figure out,/ he wondered, /is what
"history" has to do with all this. I mean, sure this is a museum,
but what's the connection to the next location?/ Reaching the
curators office, he removed his grappling rope from his jacket
and cast it upward around the door handle. Deftly climbing up
to the doorknob and picking the lock, he hung from the knob to
turn it with his weight and pushed against the doorframe to swing
the door open. Sliding back down the rope and entering the room,
he found the vault he suspected to be there, underneath the
enormous desk in the expansive room. Cracking the vault's lock
and opening the heavy steel door a crack to jam it open with a
great deal of difficulty, Chip stepped into the safe and
withdrawing his penlight, began an examination of its contents. 

     Three minutes later, Chip stepped back out of the safe,
closed its door and locked it, disappointed at having found
nothing as far as clues. Stepping back out into the hallway, he
began to pull the door to the office closed, preparing to head
towards the cafeteria's location which he'd memorized before from
the map as well. Listening reflexively, he was still able to pick
up the busy sounds and voices of the police echoing through the
hallways in the otherwise still museum. His mind turning once
more back to his near demise at the cleverly orchestrated
deathtrap upstairs, a picture formed in his mind again of the
exploding planes and the lightning gun over the statue of
Zeus........He stopped. /Hold on./ He thought. /Cupid, Mercury,
Zeus, and Hercules were the four statues that she planted clues
on. The statue of Zeus, which along with Mercury, was *between*
the other statues!  Mercury and Zeus were *sandwiched* in between
them in the sequence!/ Steadily following this thought, the rest
of the first part of the rhyme seemed to fall into place. /If you
removed the "bread", you'd only have Mercury and Zeus. Only what
do they have in common?/ Pondering a moment further, he quickly
came up with a possible answer. /What was Zeus most known for?
Leadership, strength,.....and the ability to throw lightning
bolts. What about Mercury? Well he was known for his speed and as
a messenger. A messenger...........*Messages*? *Electric or
electronic* messages? *E-mail*?!/ he wondered, the hidden answer
to the meaning of this rhyme certainly seeming up Ivana's alley.
It makes sense! he pondered with certainly, pushing the door open
once more. Although there were many offices in the museum with
computers, and surely most or all of them had e-mail, he knew
that the curator's computer was the most likely spot to look for
a clue. Reason being that as Mercury delivered messages to the
chief or the *director* of sorts of the gods, then any message or
clue he might find through e-mail, would as well turn up going to
the director or *chief* of the museum*. 

     Turning on the computer, he brought up a menu of what online
systems that the computer was connected to. Finding two, he
picked one and lacking a codeword, he began to hack his way into
the system. Finally breaking through a few minutes later, he
brought up the e-mail that was waiting for the director. There
were three pieces. Reading through each short piece, he could
find nothing of consequence. All of them seemed to be related to
museum business. Logging off the first system, he began to hack
his way into the second system. 

     Finally breaking through, he brought up the second batch of
e-mail, of which there were eight pieces this time. Seven of them
were again directly related to museum business. The next to last
one though, he wasn't sure of. All that was contained in the
"letter" was a name: *Sally Briggs*. The sender of the letter
however, was what really interested him, since the name of the
sender was "written" in what appeared to be the Cyrillic
alphabet. /Five letter name.../ he pondered, wondering if his
suspicions were correct. Finding a translation table for the
Cyrillic alphabet in the system, he quickly matched up the
characters to where they would be in the Roman alphabet. "Ivana"
he murmured, his brow darkening at the name, despite his
satisfaction at finding the needed clue. /Now what about the rest
of the rhy-/ he began to wonder, abruptly smacking himself on the
head in disgust. /Oh, brother! I *must* be getting tired! I had
the rest of the rhyme figured out long before! Very clever
Ivana./ he sneered, /Very clever./ 

     Searching out a public phone book in the office, he hurried
to locate the telephone number for "The Cutting's edge" store he
had been at before. Finding it, he wrote down the name in the
e-mail "letter", and getting off the online system, he brought up
the computer's modem menu on screen, using it to call the store. 
Getting the connection, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew!" /It
looks like that acid shower *didn't* damage the store's computer
enough for me to contact it./ he thought. Hacking into the
store's ordering and inventory sections, he arrived at the area
for *floral delivery*.  /What's most known about history,/ he
remembered, /is that history *repeats* itself. And what's
repeating itself here, is what I had realized before. The
occurrence of the Roman god *Mercury*, was also in "The Cutting's
Edge",  as their symbol for floral delivery..........*and here
she is*!/ Chip grinned as he reached the right order form which
featured Sally Briggs as the recipient of the order. Then,
looking at another part of the order, his jaw dropped slightly in
shock. "I don't believe it!" he said, staring at the screen.
/Ivana put *my name* down as the sender of the flowers!/ Burying
his face in his hand for a moment in mild embarrassment at the
joke, Chip then proceeded to copy down the address that the
flowers had been sent to. Jumping down from the terminal, he
raced out of the room and up the numerous flights of stairs to
the top floor of the museum. Cutting a hole in the window of the
direction he wanted to head, he slipped outside and began to
unfold the glider paper from his pocket, a thought occurring to
him as was about to take off. /Considering that Ivana is most
probably an animal,/ he wondered, /I wonder how she communicated
the order to the florist? I guess she could have e-mailed it?/ 
with that he shrugged, taking off and heading South towards his
next destination.        

     3:20......     

     As his latest destination came into sight, Chip stared at
the building, remembering when he'd been there last. Although it
had been for only a short while, he knew it was unlikely that he
would ever forget this place. /*Nimnul*/ he thought, realizing
the connection that Ivana was making with this latest location
and one of their previous cases, /*and the modemizor*.@/ Moreso
than just a connection like with the museum before, this building
had been one of the actual sites upon a previous case his team
had been on. The one which led to the escapade where Zipper and
Professor Nimnul had switched heads, followed many hours later by
the same technical glitch in the modemizor that caused all of the
Rangers to swap their heads for one another's bodies. That was
one case and experience he knew he would never forget. Landing
upon the window ledge of the second floor, he folded his plane
back up and peered inside. The office that he had landed outside
of, was occupied by only two people, both of which were
thankfully engaged in conversation at the far end of the room,
theirs backs turned toward the window he was at. Cutting a
suitable hole for himself upon the pane, he slipped through to
the inside, all without a sound. Jumping down from the
windowsill, he stealthily made his way past the conversing pair
to the doorway. Before slipping through though, he paused a
moment, hiding behind a nearby wastebasket to read the woman's
name tag, worn upon the lapel of her jacket. Seeing that it did
not bear the name of the woman which Ivana had left for him, he
quickly moved on. "Say Rich," the woman who's name Chip had read
as "Kim" asked, her eyebrow shooting up questioningly at that
moment, "is it my imagination,...or do you smell *hot dogs*?" 

     Catching the comment as he entered the hallway, Chip smacked
his hand over his eyes, blushing beet red in embarrassment. /How
long is that scent going to be sticking to me?!/ he wondered with
exasperation. /If it keeps up like this, I can kiss the element
of surprise goodbye, once I find Ivana's hideout! She'll be able
to smell me coming from a mile away!/ Groaning, he moved onto the
next occupied room to begin his search. 

     He hadn't known that much about the building's business that
fateful night some time ago, simply because the Rangers hadn't
searched but a few rooms when Nimnul had disappeared with Zipper.
He had at least found out though that the company was heavily
involved in technology. Now however, moving from room to room
throughout the hallway, he saw that the company was that of a
telecommunication conglomerate, involved in every sort of
technology that seemed to be available concerning the field. From
computers and telephones, to videophones, faxes, satellites and
other such items, awards and advertisements of awards were in
abundance throughout the hallways and rooms, proclaiming the
company's leading edge in the industry. /*No wonder* Nimnul
decided to steal technology from here./ Chip pondered to himself,
casting a glance over the tributes as he came across them, his
mind wandering momentarily back to that night long ago. 

     Moving about the floor didn't prove to be all that easy, and
it was hardly in part due to his constantly twinging injuries
which caused him to wince every so often. They were one of the
least of his worries. The reason was that unlike the museum which
had been deserted save for a guard who's presence he hadn't even
been sure of, people in this building were far from scarce. As
the awards proclaimed the company success, so too did the amount
of people who were working there seem to say it, as the entire
level was packed with employees. Although it made concealing
himself from sight relatively easy among such a crowd of feet,
Chip was kept constantly on his toes, trying to read the name
tags of every woman he came across, as well as trying to keep
from being stepped on. However, like his injuries, that was the
least of his problems. Glancing at a nearby wall clock, the first
time he'd gotten the chance to check the time since checking it
on the director's computer, he realized how quickly the minutes
were slipping away and shivered. /How many more clues do I have
to go, he wondered, and do I have enough time to get through them
all to find everyone before time runs out?/ In addition to
worrying about the amount of time he had left in relation to his
quest, another concern was already plaguing his mind. That being
the safety of the humans around him. 

     Like he'd seen at the library hours before, he was certain
that with whatever deathtrap Ivana had planned for him here, she
didn't care if any humans were in the way of the line of fire.
Moving from room to room, he set aside the idea of using the fire
alarms mounted in each room as a means for evacuating the
building. They were a moot solution at worst, and a temporary one
at best. For not only were they hard to get at with the people
constantly walking past them, but moreover, the problem was thus:
First, although an entire building was supposed to be evacuated
in the event of a fire, if he tripped the fire alarm, the sensor
box, located somewhere in the building, would instantly tell
which box had been tripped. If someone went to check on the
"fire's" location or called someone else in that location and the
false alarm was found, the evacuation would be terminated most
probably before it had barely begun. Secondly, even if he managed
to find an alarm in a deserted room and the alarm was not
questioned so that out of procedure, the evacuation was carried
out, there was still a problem. For if he did not find his clue
and waiting trap before the fire department showed up and
signaled "all clear", the humans would soon be back in the
building and possibly in grave danger. Moreover, even going to
check the alarm out, some firefighters might get caught in the
deathtrap as well. Even having one person in peril when it
didn't concern them, did not appeal to him. These were the
reasons he had not simply tripped the alarm back at Cranston
Tower...../but I don't know if that "Mad Bomber" note'll work
again here like it did there./ he thought. There were no kitchens
here as there were at Cranston Tower. A building directory in the
hallway had told him that much. 

     Unsure of how to attract attention to such a note as
cleverly as he had at Cranston Tower by using their kitchens, he
began to ponder what other options he had to get the people here
to safety while he continued his search. He hoped he could come
up with a solution soon. Obtaining a vantage point upon one of
the lab tables, desks or computer terminals within each room in
addition to scouting the name tags, Chip looked intently about
for some sign of the flowers that he knew were delivered here,
hoping they would point him in the right direction. /At least I
don't have to scout out the whole building..../ he considered
thankfully, /....I hope./ he amended to himself a moment later.
The order form in he computerized records in "The Cutting's
Edge", had said that the flowers were supposed to be delivered to
Sally Briggs on this level, so he hoped he would find her fairly
quickly. That is if she hadn't left this level for whatever
reason. Trying to block out the enormous amount of noise that was
generated within each room from the equipment and the conversing
employees, he proceeded systematically down the hallway to the
next room. 

                                Part 4 of 5


     It was within the room after the next one down the hall,
that Chip finally found something that he was looking for.
Climbing atop a computer workstation, he had begun once again to
scan the room and nearby name tags when his eyes caught sight of
a floral arrangement upon a desk around the middle of the room.
Jumping back to the floor, he hurried over to the nearby desk and
climbed atop it. Reading the card which came with the flowers,
Chip grimaced, feeling his anger rising within him again. From
the order form he had accessed, he knew that this was indeed the
order that had been sent to Sally Briggs. However, there was more
to this group of plants than met the eye, for as he turned from
the card which read: "*Enjoy the flowers. They look their best
when buried alongside a Maplewood*.", he realized now, looking at
the arrangement with new eyes, that the flowers were yet
another morbid pun that Ivana was making toward him, for
Maplewood was his last name. Made up of Crocuses, Tulips and
Daisies, each flower was also of a type most associated
symbolically with a with a burial plot. /Pushing up Daisies./
Chip thought sardonically, with a grimace at one of the macabre
jokes.  

     Checking the flowers and their container over thoroughly for
any other clues, but finding none, he stepped back from the
arrangement and considered his next move. /Well the flowers are
here,/ he wondered turning his attention away from the flowers to
the women in the room, /but where's Sally Briggs? Moreover,
what's her connection to all this?/ He was about to leave the
desk to commence checking the different name tags, when his
attention was caught by a brightly colored "stick on" note that
had been placed onto the middle of the desk. It's message was
simple: "Mark" it read, "if any more strange and unexpected
deliveries come for me, let me know. I'll be setting up the new
equipment"."New equipment?" he mumbled to himself, "Uh-oh." /That
could mean that she isn't even on this floor!/ he thought
worriedly to himself. /Still,/ he considered, collecting his
thoughts and calming himself, /there's no way of telling what
time this message was written and since the flowers had been
delivered this morning, it's possible that she's already done
with this work, so she might still be on this floor after all./
Continuing with his systematic check of the name tags in the room
since it was the only course of action he could think of, he
proceeded on again to the next room along the hall, the last one
on this hallway. It was upon the forth room after turning the
corner onto the new hallway though, that he hit paydirt. Within
the immense, unfurnished, windowless room which was at least the
size of a school cafeteria, rows upon rows of tower computers sat
on the floor, waiting to be attended to. Within the middle of
this massive amount of technology, a lone woman lay on her side
upon the floor in her lab coat, her head and hands enveloped
within the open computer before her, as she attempted to install
a circuitry card within it. As Chip slipped into the room, the
thick metal door creaking open before him, the woman withdrew
herself from the computer and turned at the sound. Seeing no-one
there, she got up off the floor with an slightly exasperated sigh
and walked around the consoles towards the open door. 

     "Now who left *this* open?" she mumbled, sticking her head
out into the hallway to look around.  
     Seeing no-one, she shrugged and closed the door behind her,
returning to her previous spot. Suddenly she stopped. "Now why in
the world am I smelling hot dogs?" she asked aloud, shrugging
after a moment. "Hmph. Must've wafted in from the hallway."
Unseen to her, Chip blushed a deep red once more, burying his
head in his hand.
     As the petite and attractive, brunette haired woman walked
past the computer he was hiding behind, Chip was able to spy the
name tag attached to her coat. /Well Sally Briggs, I've finally
found you./ Chip thought to himself as he watched her slip into
the computer's inner workings once more. /*This...*/ he
considered while taking in a breath to summon up his courage,
/*is gonna be tricky*!/ Stealthily, he began to move from
computer to computer, drawing ever nearer to her position. As
Ivana had not given him any lead to follow other than this
woman's name, he could only suppose that somehow, in some way,
the clue that Ivana had meant for him to find had been planted
somehow upon her person. Trying to search a total stranger for
clues was not a situation that Chip felt comfortable with in the
least, especially a woman stranger. /I hope she likes rodents!/
he gulped, now only a few inches away from her. He was poised to
try and jump into her lab coat pocket, hoping that what he needed
to find wasn't in another pocket or elsewhere upon her before she
rooted him out, when a sudden knock startled them both. Darting
behind the computer the woman was working on as she drew herself
out of it again, Chip tried to catch his breath as she got up to
answer the door.

     "Hi Mark." Sally said to a man outside the door that Chip
could not quite see from his angle. "What's up?" 
     "Another strange delivery for you, what else?" the man
answered flippantly, extending his arm inside the doorway.    
     "*A pizza*?" Sally asked in surprise, taking the box held
upon her friend's outstretched hand. "...Someone sent me a pizza?
You know I was *kidding* about expecting any more strange
deliveries." she grinned sidelong at him as if expecting a joke.
"*You* bought this for me, right?"
     "No joke Sal." Mark replied as Chip listened attentively to
the conversation, "Came in just a few minutes ago, all paid for
and everything. The delivery boy has no idea who sent it. His
dispatcher never told him"
     "Well I'm not eating something from someone I never heard
from before!" Sally asserted, handing the box back through the
doorway. "Someone might have *put* something in it! Could you
throw it out for me?" she asked as Chip gasped in horror, fearing
that an important clue was about to get thrown down a garbage
chute.
     "Sorry Sal," Mark replied, his voice beginning to grow
fainter as he disappeared down the hallway. "but I'm already due
in the dust free room to start testing the new chips. I'll see
you later, okay?"
     "Okay." Sally replied with a slight pout to her voice,
leaning through the doorway to wave at her friend before turning
back inside the room. The pizza box still balanced in one hand,
she closed the door behind her. "I'm so far behind in setting up
this teleconferencing network," she grumbled, "I don't even have
time to throw out a lousy pizza." Walking back to her work area,
she was about to throw the box on the floor out of her way, when
she stood there for a moment, contemplating it. "I wonder who
could have sent it?" she considered aloud, "And those flowers?
Well, if I have some kind of secret admirer or something," she
said to herself as she fumbled to open the box with one hand,
"lets see if he at least knows what kind of pizza I like."
Slicing open the tape on the box with a fingernail, she lifted up
the cover as Chip watched her in quiet desperation, still hoping
that the woman wasn't about to inadvertently destroy some
precious lead that he needed. The cover opened wide......and
immediately the woman reacted. Her eyes widening like saucers in
an expression of horrific shock, she started, and immediately
began to tremble violently. A series of high pitched squeaking
noises that Chip took to be what she could issue of a scream,
emanated from her mouth. After barely a second of this behavior,
the woman's eyes rolled up into her head as she fell limply
toward the floor in a faint, dropping the box. Racing forward to
open the cover of the pizza box which had now fallen closed, Chip
saw what had spooked the woman so badly. Laying upon the plastic
disk which normally held the box off of the pizza, the "legs" of
the disk having been broken off to accommodate him, lay a small
brown furred Guinea Pig, who was a bit bigger than Chip.  

     "*Buzz*?!" Chip exclaimed in surprise and fear, recognizing
the small rodent who had been an unknowing accomplice of
Professor Nimnul's in a case sometime ago. In that case, Nimnul
had used Buzz as the "Brain" of a giant robot Guinea Pig that he
had built, using it to burrow underground into banks to rob them.
In his "reflexively conditioned" to almost hypnotized state, Buzz
had been unaware until the Ranger's coincidental intervention,
that he and his lab partner Sparky had been helping Nimnul in
crime{}. Now, to all appearances as he lay unmoving upon the
disk, his eyes closed, Chip feared that he might be dead. Quickly
checking his vital signs, he breathed a grateful sigh of relief
as he realized that this friendly one time acquaintance of his
was merely unconscious. Looking around at the pizza that Buzz was
laying on, sliced raw potatoes had been placed as the topping,
serving as well, Chip now realized, as another reference to a
previous case that had involved Professor Nimnul. One where he
had attempted to bake the entire national potato crop for that
year as revenge for his outlandish potato baking invention being
ridiculed by the industry.<> Hefting Buzz up in his arms, he
carried him out of the steaming pizza box. Laying him onto the
cold tile floor, he began to lightly slap him on each side of his
face, attempting to wake him up. "Come on Buzz, come on!" he
coaxed him in a gentle voice, hoping that he didn't need anything
as strong as smelling salts to rouse him, seeing that he didn't
have any. Gradually, after a few seconds of this treatment, the
unconscious Guinea Pig began to stir at last. 

     "Oooh. Wha?" Buzz mumbled, as Chip helped him up into a
sitting position. Rubbing his eyes, he stared squinting slightly
at Chip for a few moments, looking as if he was trying to get his
vision to focus, as well as trying to place the face of the
person before him. "Chip?" he said at last as a look of confused
recognition came into his eyes.
     "Yeah Buzz, it's me." Chip smiled back at him. "Are you all
right?"
     "I'm not sure." Buzz replied, rubbing his head. "Where am I?
This isn't my lab room at MIT." he stated, looking around him.
"The last thing I remember is going to sleep in my cage. How'd I
get here?"
     "You came here in a pizza box, and I'm afraid you're not in
MIT anymore." Chip stated matter of factly, getting up from his
knees. "Look, rest up for a moment. I'll be right with you."
Seeing that Buzz was for the most part all right, Chip dashed
over to the unconscious Sally Briggs who lay sprawled out on the
floor. Checking her vital signs, he checked as well for any signs
of a concussion. Seeing that she was more or less all right as
well, he quickly returned to Buzz. "You say that the last thing
you remember is falling asleep in your cage?" he asked.
     "Yup." Buzz nodded back at him. "Why? What's this all
about?" he wondered, looking at Chip curiously. 
     Turning away from Buzz for the moment, Chip considered the
problem. /I'm not sure if this is a pattern I should be
following, but Ivana's mixing cases again, and again all of the
cases involved Nimnul! I'll have to consider if there's a
connection, but right now there's a few more immediate concerns./
In the case that Buzz was involved in, he was preconditioned to
carry out certain actions in the presence of a stimulus, namely 
*a bell*. /Could Ivana have expanded on that premise here? Could
she somehow have hidden the next rhyme clue in his mind through
preconditioning, with a stimulus holding the key to having him
repeat it? Could it be a bell like last time?/ he wondered.
Holding the idea as a distinct possibility, Chip considered
something else as well for another moment before turning his
attention back to Buzz. "It's kinda complicated Buzz, and I'll
explain what I can, but first, let me check a few things out."
Chip said, smiling at Buzz reassuringly as he trotted back to the
pizza box. 

     Checking the pizza and its box both over and under
thoroughly for any hidden clues, when it turned up dry, he turned
his gaze toward the unconscious Sally Briggs once more. /Good a
time as any./ he thought as he moved toward her. /Guess she's
afraid of rodents./ he smirked, remembering her vivid reaction
while feeling sorry for her as well. /Guess it's just as well
that Buzz caused her to faint. It makes my job *a lot* easier./
For the next minute or so, Chip silently inspected Sally's form
from head to toe, discretely looking for any concealed messages
on her hair or outer clothing that could have been placed on her.
As this search turned up empty as well, he crouched upon the
floor near Sally's foot, thinking about his next course of
action. 

     /The only lead that's left to check is Buzz,/ he thought,
/and he's not even wearing any clothes like he was last time,
that I could check. That means that unless I'm issing some other
connection, then Ivana had to have planted the next hyme in his
mind like I thought before. Only how do I get it out? I could try
hitting the fire alarm. Its bell should work, but if I'm wrong
about the stimulus, then Buzz'll take off after it, and I'm going
to waste precious time chasing him! Is there something else that
I've overlooked?/ Pondering a moment, he let his gaze wander
around the room from the computers, to Sally Briggs, to Buzz and
the pizza box....Snapping his fingers, his eyes lit up as an idea
hit him. /The other "strange delivery"! The flowers!/ he thought
excitedly. Just like Ivana's done before. A clue that works two
ways or *a clue within a clue*! Monterey works close to the same
way that Buzz did with reflexive or preconditioned responses,
that is with him and cheese! Maybe the stimulus is *scent* this
time instead of sound!/ Sprinting toward the doorway, he called
hurriedly toward Buzz over his shoulder. "Listen Buzz. I just
have to go get something. Stay here and keep an eye on her would
you?" he finished as he reached the doorway, pointing toward
Sally Briggs. "Sure." Buzz said agreeably with a shrug, smiling
though a confused look was evident on his face. "Gonna be long?"
     "Nope. I'll only be a minute or so." Chip replied
reassuringly, smiling at him before casting his climbing rope
around the doorknob. "Oh, and don't eat that pizza." he warned
him as an afterthought. "I think someone tainted it." Opening the
door and making his way back to the room which had held the
flowers, Chip bit one of each flower off halfway up the stem.
Carefully slipping back out of the room, cautious not to be seen
as always, he returned to the room he had left Buzz in a few
minutes before, the three flowers in tow. "Do me a little favor
here, Buzz." Chip asked the Guinea pig, crouching next to him who
was now sitting curiously near the face of Sally Briggs, watching
her. "Smell this for me." he said, extending a tulip.
     "Why?" Buzz asked curiously, in his ever amiable manner.
     "*Please*, Buzz." Chip said, an urgently pressing tone in
his voice. "It's important. It's for a case that I'm on."
     "Well, okay," Buzz shrugged again, "but you still haven't
told me what this is all about."

     "I will." Chip said reassuringly, lying through his teeth as
he watched Buzz smell the flower. He knew he couldn't very well
tell Buzz how they were both involved in this case. It was
against Ivana's rules of the "game" and the lives of his friends
hung on those rules. At the moment though, his mind was too
anxious to make up a plausible sounding fib either. His only hope
was that he could stall Buzz's questions long enough to find the
needed clue and promise that he'd tell him later. As Buzz smelled
the Tulip, Chip watched him for any sign of a reflexive action.
There was none. "Now try this one." Chip said, holding out a
Daisy. Smelling it, still no reaction appeared upon Buzz's face.
Now even more anxious, staring at the last flower as if his he
could will it to work some magic on Buzz, he extended the
Crocus. "Now this one." As Buzz smelled the last flower, Chip
felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his face falling slightly in
disappointment as still no reaction was elicited. Maybe it *was*
the bell I need. Chip wondered, looking from the flowers to the
fire alarm box on the far opposite wall. Wait a minute! he
thought, looking back to the flowers again. Three cases,....
*three flowers*! Holding the three flowers together before the
Guinea Pig, just as Buzz was about to speak, he said with an
almost pleading grin on his face, "Now smell all three at once."
Holding his tongue, Buzz obliged him once more as the placed his
nose against the three grouped flowers, trying to take in as much
of each scent as possible. This time, a reaction was strikingly
evident. His eyes glazing over as though hypnotized or asleep,
Buzz sat bolt upright and began to speak in a far away monotone.
"What all matter does, within its own site, will show you how a
long ago flight, will lead to the clue that waits for you there,
but to break this next code, your chances are rare." Finishing
his memorized message, Buzz blinked once, shook his head, and
looked at Chip in confusion. 

     "I think I blanked out there for a second.....Were you
saying something?" he asked him.
     Chip smiled back at his befuddled friend, feeling sorry for
his confusion and at his being used as a pawn in this game.      
"Nope, not a thing." he said. "Maybe you'd better lay back down
for a little bit. You did blank out there for a moment. You might
not be over what you were knocked out with." Laying the flowers
aside, as Buzz heeded his advice, Chip stood and began a slow
walk about the room, pondering the rhyme.  
     "So are you going to tell me what's going on?" Buzz pressed
once more.
     "Someone's..............." Chip began, diverting his mind to
think up an excuse. "poisoning pizzas in the area and putting
unconscious rodents in them as a trademark." Chip said hurriedly,
blushing out of Buzz's sight even as he said it. Oh, brother! I'm
better at making up stupid sounding, unbelievable excuses than
Dale is! he thought with embarrassment. 
     "And this is *complicated*?" Buzz said, a confused and
slightly sarcastic tone to his voice. 
     "It would be if I explained everything involved." Chip
stated with sincerity. "But right now I can't. I have to finish
figuring out a clue I just picked up."
     "Can I help?" Buzz asked eagerly.
     "Thanks, Buzz," Chip said, turning toward him, knowing that
his help or anyone else's was one of the last things he needed
right now. "but I've just about got it figured out. I might need
your help in a little bit though." It was obvious after the
library, that Ivana was definitely keeping track of him somehow
to make sure he played by the rules of the "game". For instance,
tailing him and reading his lips in places he'd conversed, such
as at the library, and probably using hidden cameras and
microphones in places like this. Ivana was calling the shots on
this caper. He couldn't afford to tell *anyone anything*.

     He would gladly have told Buzz to leave and meet him back at
the treehouse, but as he didn't have a definite location yet for
the next stop of the game, more messages might be hidden in
Buzz's mind that he might need to access. Messages that this
present rhyme might be leading to the catalyst for. Taking out
the rhyme notes that he had collected from various places
throughout this adventure thus far, Chip unfolded the old notes
and pretended to pour over them, uttering contemplative noises to
make Buzz think he already had everything almost wrapped up.
"Mmmhmm!" he uttered, looking at the notes as he paced and began
to ponder what Buzz had said. /Now to figure this out./  he
thought. /What all matter does, within it's own site? Matter?/
"Ah, right!" he uttered nodding his head at another note as he
continued his ruse. I'm no science expert, but I do know at least
a few things about physics and chemistry. "And that's what that
means...." Time to recall what I do know, and hopefully I'll be
able to figure it out. Continuing with his reflective utterances
every so often so Buzz wouldn't disturb him, he tried to recall a
few scientific facts. /Matter comes in three forms, solid, liquid
and gaseous.....A liquid and gaseous type matter will take the
shape of their container...........*but what else*? Matter is
made up of energy, and energy can't be created or destroyed....no
ideas there...It *takes energy* to move matter,...no...*hold
on*./ he pondered, as something began to nag at the back of his
mind. /Takes...takes....he thought, repeating the word over in
his mind, something about it ringing a bell. What is it about
that word? Matter takes...it takes....takes...../ Bowing his head
forward, Chip's squeezed his eyes shut, all his concentration
turned inward as his muscles tensed. He had even stopped speaking
now to deceive Buzz as he struggled to grasp what he could feel
his mind was reaching for. Clenching one hand into a fist and
placing the other hand against his head, he continued to repeat
the word, as it became almost a chant. /Takes, takes, takes, 
*taaaakeeessssss*......../

     "Chip?" Buzz asked uncertainly in concern as he watched him,
thinking that something was wrong.
     Seconds later, with a flash of  recollection, Chip's eyes
flew open, his mind grasping the elusive fact at last. /It takes
up space! Of course! All matter *takes up space*!  *That's* what
it does "within its own site"!/ With the first fact, the rest of
the rhyme fell into place along with it. The rhyme was referring
to when the Rangers had flown the Space Plane back from orbit. It
was one of the Ranger's first cases about a year and half ago,
when while going to watch a space launch, he and Dale had ended
up as accidental passengers on the Space Plane. After being
rescued from starving to death in a jettisoned space suit by
Gadget, Monterey and Zipper, the entire team consequently ended
up rescuing the astronauts of the Space Plane when it had
developed a major oxygen leak.+ /So if the rhyme was talking
about the Space Plane and the oxygen leak....../ His gaze
traveling upward toward the ceiling many feet above him, Chip
looked upon the only source of oxygen for the entire windowless
room, a large air vent that was situated in the wall at the side
of the room he was on. "I'm okay, Buzz." Chip said absently,
looking at the grill upon the air vent. Running over to stand
beneath the metal grill, Chip cast the hook of his grappling rope
upward to catch upon it. Climbing up quickly to the grill, he
easily slipped inbetween the large spaces of the metal slats.
Trying to move within the duct though, proved to be a challenge.
For with the amount of air being pushed through the system into
the room beyond, it was like trying to walk against the wind on
the most blustery of days or nights. Being also quite dark within
the vent system, even with the amount of light filtering into the
metal duct from the room beyond, Chip activated his
mini-penlight. Sweeping it's beam around the walls, floor and
ceiling of the space, he began his search, looking for any sign
of the rhyme clue that he suspected would be there. 

         
                                Part 5 of 5


     Traveling slowly further into the ductwork, the pumped air
howling against his ears and eyes, his carefully scrutinizing
gaze at last picked up something around two feet beyond the
grill. A small, almost indiscernible line was illuminated by the
penlight's beam upon the wall of the duct. Stepping over to it,
Chip ran his finger along it, discovering the line to be the
rhyme paper that had been fastened with an adhesive of some sort
and painted the exact same shade of the metal, blending in almost
perfectly. Removing the paper from its secured position, he
turned it over so that its unpainted side, the side with the
lengthy message upon it, now faced him. However, trying to read
the message was another task entirely, worse than finding it
had been. For even with his back to the onrushing air, with his
left hand holding the constantly flapping message, and his right
hand attempting to illuminate it with the penlight, there seemed
to be no way to keep the paper steady enough to read. Finally,
making his way back to the grill cover, he flattened the message
against two of the slats, using the wind to his advantage to keep
it in place. For the moment, most of the message was unnecessary
to read. All he was interested in at the moment was whether there
was any............."Punchline." Chip whispered in dread
anticipation, spotting it in its usual location near the bottom
of the page. "If you haven't liked the game we've been playing so
far, Chipper," the message read, "perhaps you'd prefer a little
game of cat and mouse.......or should I say cat and *chipmunk*?"
Hurriedly pulling the message off of the grillwork, Chip worked
his way back out of the duct as quickly as he could, practically
throwing himself between the metal slats. He had barely begun to
get through though, before the roaring sound of a rocket's
backwash suddenly began to echo deafiningly off of the metal
walls. Diving off of the grillwork, he caught onto his rope,
feeling its friction burning against his hands as he slid down it
out of control, barely managing to stop himself before crashing
into the floor. 

     "Chip!" Buzz cried excitedly, running over to him as he
witnessed Chip's haphazard and none too graceful exit.
     Barely had Chip landed though, with Buzz coming to his side
when the grill above them both exploded outward, shooting forward
with the rope trailing behind it, and smashing against one of the
telecom monitor screens. Casting their gazes up, the reason for
this violent action and what Ivana's punchline had alluded to
suddenly became all too clear. 

       /Tom?!/ Chip thought in surprise, watching as the
mechanical cat streaked out of the duct and into the air above
him. Made out of spare parts and household appliances by a local
human inventor, Tom had been the man's attempt to build "a better
mousetrap". Failing to catch the Rangers, who had been scrounging
around for replacement equipment parts, the inventor had
discarded Tom as a failure. However, even after being chased by
the invention, Gadget had insisted on rescuing him from the
junkpile. After programming him with a much more friendly
personality, he had then fallen into the hands of Fat Cat who had
again reprogrammed him into a veritable malicious juggernaut,
using Tom to steal a rare and priceless fish for him to dine
upon. After another skirmish with the Rangers (the first having
been in the inventor's workshop) and another reprogramming, he
had then helped save the son of the fish's owner, in a
cooperative race between the son and the Rangers to rescue the
fish from being lost in the sewers, after being dumped down the
sink by the Rangers at Fat Cat's lair. This rescue had led to his
being adopted by the fish's owner to become a beloved pet for
both him and his son. [] Since that case over a year and a half
ago, the Rangers had visited Tom periodically....that is until
his mysterious disappearance a few months back. Trying to find
the missing robotic cat had proved fruitless. It was one of the
few cases of theirs that had never been solved.........until now.
Apparently, Ivana had made some adjustments and reprogramming to
Tom as others had before her. Upon his sides were mounted some
sort of rockets which were similar to the function of the
propellers on the Rangerwing. After blasting him out of the air
duct, they had swiveled into a vertical position and were now
rapidly lowering him down to where he and Buzz now were, his red
optic receptors glaring at them balefully. Gulping as he watched
Tom's razor sharp steel claws extend with a precise "click" out
of their paw housings, Chip was struck even more afraid by the
next few words out of Buzz's mouth. 

     "Chip?" he asked in an almost whisper, staring at the
piercing red eyes. "Did Nimnul send that thing? Was that what
you've been trying not to tell me?" he asked, not having believed
Chip's earlier excuse. 
     "I don't know." Chip lied as he get got to his feet,
stuffing the message clue in his pocket. 
     "Any idea how we're going to stop it?" he asked, now looking
about the room for ideas or weapons.
     /*We*?!/ Chip thought with dread, swinging his gaze toward
Buzz. As far as Buzz knew, Nimnul was the only person who created
robotic animals, so his assumption was not a wild one. Buzz
didn't know about half of the Ranger's cases, so he certainly
didn't know about Tom. Far more important though, was the fact
that he was now about to help Chip battle the reprogrammed
robotic cat. He knew there could be no "we" in this case, under
*any* circumstances. If Buzz made even one helpful move against
Tom that might help him win the battle here, the rules of the
game might be considered broken to Ivana and the Rangers' lives
would terminated by her. She had expressly stated that this game
was *his and his alone*. Beyond that fact, Buzz also had
absolutely no training in dealing with such problems. Tom would
more than likely tear him to shreds. Grasping Buzz by the arm,
Chip spun him around to face him as Tom was now only five feet
from the ground. "Buzz," he said in no uncertain terms. "you've
got to get out of here, *now*." 
     "What?!" Buzz cried in a shocked tone. "Why?! That thing's
after you! I can't just leave you here alone!"

     "I-!" Chip stopped himself and screamed in frustration in
his mind, his eyes going wild. Buzz wasn't about to listen to him
without an extremely good reason, and he couldn't tell him
anything! With Tom about to land and most likely attack him any
second, he also had no time to think up an excuse, even a stupid
sounding one! /I have to get Buzz out of here!/ he thought
desperately. His mind raced and instantly, an idea came to him.
/*The rope*./ he thought as he gaze fell upon it. "All right," he
said hurriedly in a reluctant tone, "I've got a plan. Wait right
here and I'll throw you the rope. We'll trip him and tie his legs
up. That should stop him." As Buzz nodded his understanding, Chip
took off like a shot as Tom touched down on the ground, his
retrorockets turning off. As Chip dashed into the rows of
computer stations, Tom tracked his course and immediately started
after him, covering nearly all the distance between them in an
instant. However, for all of Tom's size and speed, he wasn't
nearly as nimble as Chip was, his slashing claws missing their
mark every time. Moreover, instead of just chasing straight after
him, *around* the computers, Tom seemed intent on a much more
destructive course, pouncing upon and knocking over almost every
machine which came between him and Chip. From pouncing down upon
a computer, he would then leap into the air, claws flashing, to
try to land upon his chipmunk quarry. It was almost as if Tom
were trying to eliminate anything that Chip could use to hide
behind. 

     Weaving and ducking out the way of Tom's attacks as he ran,
this ballistic course of Tom's continued until Chip finally
arrived at where the metal grate had fallen, wedged within a
destroyed computer screen. Flicking the rope to release the hook,
he caught the hook in his hands and started off at a run once
more. His direction taking him nowhere near Buzz's waiting
position, he quickly began to coil the rope in his hands from
behind him, hoping that Tom didn't trip him up by stepping on it. 
Continuing to avoid Tom's relentless slashing, and ignoring as
well Buzz's confused calls as to what he was doing, Chip finally
arrived at the far end of the room. 

     Taking the now coiled rope from his arm and sidestepping a
stabbing swipe from Tom's claws, he spun the hooked end and with
expertly placed aim, cast it up at his target: *the fire alarm*.
As the fishing hook caught upon the box's lever, Chip  dodged
another pounce by Tom and put all his strength into his pull.
Buzz had almost caught up to them when the lever finally snapped
into place, activating the alarm bell. Instantly, Buzz stopped
and turned toward the sound, his eyes going into another trace
like state. /Great!/ Chip thought with relief upon seeing Buzz's
reaction. /His original preconditioning's still intact!/ In the
case Buzz had been in, Nimnul had trained him to follow the sound
of an alarm bell. The alarm bell was to be set off by a
"programmed" Sparky, within the specific bank Nimnul wanted to
rob, leading Buzz within the robot, to follow the sound through
the sewers and to burrow underneath and into the bank to steal
the cash. 

     Now, with the fire alarm's bell ringing outside, Buzz had no
choice but to follow it's call. He was out the door which Chip
had left a touch open, in a flash. /Nothing stops a motivated
Guinea pig./ he remembered with a grin, thinking back to the case
and the rule which Sparky had taught the Rangers. /Well that's
takes care of Buzz./ he mused, breathing heavily as he brought
the chase back within the confines of the rows of telecom
computers, trying to hide from Tom among them again. Remembering
the thin piece of glass which normally covered Tom's optic
sensors, Chip hurriedly took out his sling. /Now to stop Tom./ he
thought. Loading a bearing into it and turning, he fired the shot
off toward Tom's glaring gaze. Tom was not fast enough to avoid
the hurtling missile, but it was evident that he didn't have to
be. 

     In spite of all it's velocity, the bearing reflected
harmlessly off Tom's left "eye", the glass having apparently been
reinforced somehow. Tom nearly connected with his next swipe as
Chip stared agape at this development for a split second, before
resuming the chase again. /I just hope I can figure out how to do
that!/ he remarked to himself worriedly before he began to think
once more. /I could try to reach the part of him that holds his
Personality Programming Cartridge, but Ivana probably made it
impossible for me to eject it! The glass, the cartrigde,....Ivana
thought of everything!  I have no other weapons..../ he
considered. /*How am I gonna stop him*?/ Unlike Buzz, he couldn't
afford to try to escape. He had to try to stop Tom here, where
there were practically no innocent bystanders around to get hurt
by this chase, or perhaps just as bad, any innocent bystanders
who might try to help him with this battle. He only hoped that,
until he figured out how to stop Tom, during the evacuation no
humans would look into this room and-

     "Oh, Noooooo!!" a voice suddenly screamed out, breaking
through the din. 
     Surprised at the sound, Chip turned reflexively toward
it....and was rewarded for his carelessness with sharp, burning
pain. Tom's claws caught him across the top of his head, tearing
across one of his ears and slashing through his hat as it went
flying from his head. Fortunately, he'd seen the blow coming from
the corner of his eye and had managed to duck, if only slightly.
Doing what he could to roll with force of the blow, he tried to
pick himself up before Tom attacked again, realizing that he now
had yet another problem. For Sally Briggs had awakened after her
fainting spell, and was obviously none too happy about the
destruction that had taken place to her equipment during it. To
that effect, she came running toward them both, the expression
upon her face clearly communicating her intent on stopping the
rampage through her work area.  /Lady,/ Chip thought with a
slight bit of exasperation, /you *really* picked a bad time to
wake up! As her charge caught Tom's attention for a moment, Chip
loaded up his sling once more with his last ball bearing. "Sorry
about this," he said, in a apologetic tone as he whipped the
sling around. Ignoring the blood that began to trickle down his
face from his slashed ear, he took careful aim and released the
shot up at her. Although the bearing only grazed off the side of
her temple as he'd intended it to, the shot nonetheless had an
ample effect as her eyes rolled up, sending her slumping toward
the floor once more. /Now, *where were we*?/ Chip thought with
grim humor as the chase immediately resumed. 

     As Tom careened through the room after him once more, with
many more of the telecom computers getting knocked over and
damaged in the process, an idea suddenly occurred to him of how
he could finally stop this frantic game of cat and mouse. Having
glimpsed the untouched pizza box a few feet away, he remembered
Buzz's comment of how he thought *Nimnul* had built Tom. While he
hadn't, the comment did bring to mind the robot *dogs* that
Nimnul had once built in the second case that the Rescue Rangers
had had, that involved the mad scientist. In addition to the
robot dogs, that particular case had involved stolen cats
and........./*Static electricity*!()/ he thought excitedly, /It
*should* work!/ Turning the chase back towards the fire alarm
box, he swiftly regained the grappling rope he had left behind.
Then, putting all his remaining energy into a burst of speed to
buy himself a bit of distance from Tom, he put his plan into
motion. Turning to face Tom and twirling the rope over his head,
he sent it flying to wrap around the robot cat's legs like a
bolo. As Chip pulled the rope taught, Tom's legs were brought
together, and just as he had proposed this plan to Buzz, Tom
immediately lost his balance and was sent crashing to the floor.
Gotta hurry! Chip thought anxiously, dashing to the part of Tom's
back which held his Personality Programming Cartridge. He'll snap
that rope any second! As Chip had suspected, the old pop up
toaster which held Tom's P.P.C, *had* been tampered with by
Ivana. There was no way that he could remove the cartridge to
disable him, nor any way to turn him off for his cutoff switch
had been broken off as well. However, Chip suspected that he
needed neither of those things to shut Tom down. All he needed
was.......*himself*. As Tom strained his metallic legs out
against his bonds, Chip could hear the strands of the rope
beginning to snap from the pressure. Quickly rubbing his hands
over his own furry body to built up a charge, he carefully
reached into the toaster and touched a finger to an visible
circuit board. With a snap of discharged electricity, Tom's
entire body jerked once and then fell still, his head falling
upon the floor with a thump. 

     Removing his hand from the toaster and rubbing his shocked
finger, Chip breathed a sign of relief as he walked around to see
that Tom's optic sensors had now gone blank. The electrical
discharge upon the exposed board had short circuited him,
shutting him down. Removing a bandanna from his jacket pocket and
blotting up the still trickling blood upon his face, he held the
cloth in place upon his ear with a wince as he trotted back
across the room to the untouched pizza box. Tearing off a strip
of cardboard from the box, he then stopped at the once more
unconscious form of Sally Briggs. Taking a pen from her pocket,
he checked her over again to make sure she was all right, feeling
a slight pang of guilt for having been forced to hurt her, though
he knew he'd had no choice. With the pen and the cardboard strip
in tow under one arm, he stopped but a moment more before
returning to Tom to gingerly pick up his fallen hat. Tom's claws
had shredded it straight through into strips, tearing the felt
beyond all repair. With a remorseful sigh for its passing, Chip
made his way back to where Tom lay, thinking about all the great
times and adventures he had shared with this hat. It had been
like a friend to him. Reverently laying the hat aside upon the
ground, he quietly turned his attention to the strip of
cardboard. Writing out a short letter upon the cardboard, he
stated that Tom was the pet of John Kline. Leaving Mr. Kline's
address and telephone number as well, he went on to include
that Tom had been reported as stolen many months back, and that
Sergeant Spinelli at the eighteenth precinct should be contacted.
He just wanted to make sure that when the fire fighters traced
the alarm back to this box and found this disaster area, Tom
wasn't blamed and tossed into some evidence room since he didn't
have any pet tags upon him. /Hopefully,/ he thought, leaving the
letter partially hanging out of Tom's mouth, /Mr. Kline'll be
able to reclaim him and get Tom back to his old self in a day or
so./ Picking up his hat once more and reclaiming his frayed rope
from Tom's legs, he exited the room, giving a last look back at
the two latest pawns in Ivana's game. 

     3:51.......

     He found Buzz a short distance down the hall at the closest
alarm bell, staring up blankly at it. Fishing a pair of ear plugs
from his jacket, he stuffed them into Buzz's ears. As before,
Buzz blinked and looked around uncertainly until he spotted Chip.
Then remembering everything that had happened and how Chip had
tricked him, his brow darkened with annoyance. He was about to
give Chip a piece of his mind when Chip silenced him with a
finger to his lips, pointing toward the ear plugs he had given
him and pointing toward the alarm bell as well. Then motioning
for Buzz to follow him, Chip led him down to the now empty room
from which he had entered the building. Once outside Chip
unfolded his paper plane and motioned for Buzz to climb aboard.
Climbing in and taking off, Chip landed the glider a few moments
later upon the ledge of a building across the street, out of the
range of Buzz's hearing for the alarm bell. 
     "*Why did you trick me*?!" Buzz demanded to know, removing
the ear plugs.
     "I can't tell you why." Chip sighed tiredly, lowering his
eyes.
     "What kind of *baloney* is that?!" Buzz raved furiously,
pointing to Chip's wounded ear to which he had begun to apply
pressure once more with his bandanna. "You could have been killed
by that thing!"
     "Look Buzz," Chip said, placing an earnest hand upon his
shoulder. "I'm sorry for tricking you. Really. I'd like to, but I
can't talk about what's going on right now, what I'm doing and
why. You have to trust me, but there's a good reason for all of
this. I promise can tell you later on tonight if you'll wait for
me back outside of headquarters." /If I get out of this alive./
he thought to himself, not adding the thought since he didn't
want to further excite Buzz who was already anxious at what was
going on. "The only other thing that I ask is not to go in until
I get there, or until nine o clock tonight, and no, I can't say
why." he finished, anticipating Buzz's last question.
     Buzz seemed to consider this for a moment, as he studied
Chip's face. "You won't let me come along to help you, huh?" 
     "No." Chip said as he shook his head. His voice indicating
that even *he* didn't like his reply.
     Breathing a reluctant sigh, Buzz shrugged. "Okay." he said.
"You gonna be all right?" he asked a moment later, pointing once
more to Chip's ear. As Chip nodded, his face showing that he
appreciated Buzz's concern, Buzz looked over the side of the
ledge that they had landed on. "You got time to drop me off?" he
asked, pointing toward the ground.
     "Sure." Chip replied. "Just do me one favor, would you
Buzz?" 
     "You mean.........*help* you with something?" Buzz asked
with a look of humorous sarcasm.
     "Funny." Chip smirked at him.
     "Thanks." Buzz grinned back. "What do you need?" he asked
then sincerely, knowing from Chip's tone that the request was
serious.
      "Take care of this til I get back." Chip said, handing Buzz
his hat as he withdrew it from within his jacket.
     Buzz whistled with shock as he viewed the shredded fedora.
Looking at the slightly pained expression on Chip's face as he
offered it to him, he took the hat gently in his hands, giving
him a confident smile of appreciation at his trust. As Chip
rarely ever took the hat off, it was obvious to Buzz that it
meant a lot to him. "Sure thing. Til you get back." Buzz stated,
his tone confident as he shifted the hat to one hand to extend
the other to Chip.
     Smiling his thanks at Buzz's confidence, Chip took his hand
and shook it warmly.  
     "Just one last thing." Buzz began to ask curiously. "Can you
tell me why you smell lik-"
     "I'll tell you about that later, too." Chip said, holding up
a hand to silence him as he grinned awkwardly with embarrassment.
     Barely four minutes later, Chip stood upon a much lower
ledge of the same building, leaning against the wall.  His plane
standing ready before him, he began reading over the latest rhyme
clue, trying to decipher its meaning. Minutes before as he saw
him off, Buzz had wished him luck with what ever this was about,
hoping that whatever it was, it came out all right. So do I. Chip
thought, echoing his heartfelt words of minutes ago. *So do I*. 
     Meanwhile, as the sun continued it's fateful arc toward the
Western horizon, in the headquarters of the Rescue Rangers,  the
wicks of Ivana's symbolic timer continued to burn ever shorter, 
the suspended daggers within it waiting expectantly for the
sunset.....................


(*) From the CDRR episode "Weather or not." >-RR-"The Case of the
Cola
Cult". >>-RR-"Dirty Rotten Diapers". *-RR-"Weather or Not"
**-RR-"Out
of Scale". @-RR-"A Fly in the Ointment". {}-RR-"Does Pavlov Ring
a
Bell?" |-RR-"To the Rescue!" <>-RR-"The Pied Piper Power Play".
+-RR-
"Out To Launch". []-RR-"Robocat". ()-RR-"Catteries not included".