Solid Frodo: Hobbit Espionage Action

Chapter 17: A Code in By Doze

The Hobbits sat in relative peace for about an hour and a half longer. Merry and Pippin had stopped smoking quite a while ago, just in case Ocelot came back. They thought if he did he wouldn’t come this way, but surely pipeweed smoke would draw his attention. Sam was resting, but not sleeping, although his eyes were closed. Everyone in Alaska would know if he were sleeping because he snored so loud. Merry and Pippin figured if Ocelot came back, he would just go into the...‘Lab’, get mad, and storm back out, not bothering to check in this corner.

Nevertheless, as time wore on, they became more and more nervous.

"You know...much as I like to take this break, I think we should get going, Master Took," Merry said quietly to Pippin.

"Me too, Master Brandybuck. But...I’m a little concerned about waking Master Baggins again. He might bite this time," Pippin replied.

Sam opened an eye. "Mr. Frodo won’t bite you, Mr. Pippin. He don’t bite, leastwise I don’t think he does."

"I’d rather not find out. The Oath of Fëanor was mild compared to what he wrote before."

"Oh it was not. I don’t think nothing was that bad."

"Still. I’m scared to wake him again."

Sam pursed his lips unhappily. "He won’t bite. But I’ll wake him up, he’s more used to that." So Sam bent down and kissed Frodo’s forehead, saying softly, "Wake up Mr. Frodo...."

Frodo stirred a little, but to Merry and Pippin it looked more like the stirrings of a Hobbit bound and determined to keep napping. "Mr. Frodo, you have to wake up sir. It’s not safe to stay much longer."

It sounded like Frodo tried to say something, but then he hissed in frustration. That was enough to get him to wake up the rest of the way. He sat up stiffly, then after whispering something to Sam and kissing the slightly younger Hobbit on the cheek, he stood. He was a little wobbly, but he managed. Sam stood after him.

Frodo said something, but none of the Hobbits could hear him, since for the moment he could do little more than move his mouth. Frodo frowned again, and Pippin cautiously handed him the paper, somewhat fearful he might write something so horrible it was any wonder the paper didn’t burn up. Frodo scribbled something on it, his hand much stronger than before. He flipped the paper, and much to the other Hobbits’ relief, it was a polite request for some food and water.

So Merry got out a ration and handed it to Frodo, while Pippin went to get some water. He found quite a bit of it, more than he needed—there was still water everywhere from the bomb going off, but he went into the ‘Lab’ and got several small paper cups and filled them with some water from a blue dispenser. He took a sip, and after realizing just how exceptional it tasted, he gulped down a whole cup, filled it, gulped, then filled it again. Then the cup seemed to loose some cohesion, and after emptying it Pippin tossed it in a little wastebasket nearby. Then he filled as many cups as his Hobbit hands could carry; it had been quite a bit longer than he realized before they had drunk such good tasting water.

If he could have read the Roman letters on the dispenser, he would have seen it said ‘Arrowhead Mountain Spring Water.’

Taking the cups back as quickly as he could without slipping, Pippin returned and set the large number of cups on a box.

"What are those?" Merry asked, looking at one suspiciously. It had little flowers printed on the outside.

"It’s water, really good water!" Pippin said happily, and handed Frodo a cup. Frodo sipped it, and winced.

Sam gave Pippin a slightly heated glance, but Pippin explained, "It’s probably because his throat hurts." He handed Sam a cup. "See? It’s really good!"

Sam looked at the water suspiciously, then took his own very tiny careful taste. "Ooo...it is good." Sam up ended the cup and reached for another one. Meanwhile Merry had also taken a taste and guzzled several cups, then ran off to get more.

Soon Frodo was eating a ration and swallowing with effort, chasing the dry stuff down with a cup of water, while the other Hobbits had ran back and forth and acquired so many cups at least fifty of them sat on all the nearby boxes. They were practically floating, but they didn’t mind; Shire well water tasted better, but none of them had tasted Shire water for a long time. The water tasted especially good to Frodo and Sam, whom had last drunken water trickling from a cold stream on the Morgai. Pretty well anything short of Shire mud would beat water out of Mordor.

It took a little while for Frodo to finish his ration, but he looked better for it. He still couldn’t talk however. Then, just as he was taking another sip of the water, he sneezed, spraying water all over Merry and Pippin.

While Pippin and Merry wiped themselves off with the towel Pippin had brought earlier, muttering about unnecessary showers, Frodo rubbed his nose. Then he sneezed again. Then again. And these were not quiet sneezes—Frodo spoke quietly but carried a horrifically loud sneeze.

Sam looked at him with concern. "Are you OK, sir?" he asked.

Frodo sneezed in response. Then he promptly started stomping his feet and pulling his hair...not as enthusiastically or heatedly as he might have liked, as he was still sore, but he was just that frustrated. He grabbed the paper, sneezed on it, then wrote hastily ‘I have a cold! Of all things! A cold!’ Another sneeze.

"I’d lend you this handkerchief, but I think we might need it without Hobbit snivel all over it," Merry said, not unkindly. Frodo sighed unhappily and wiped his nose on his arm. Then he got upset and snatched the towel and wiped his arm on it.

Pippin snatched it back and quickly wiped Sting down before Frodo had a chance to get any more mucus on the towel. As soon as he sneezed again, Frodo snatched it back.

"Maybe it would help if you got dressed the rest the way, Mr. Frodo," Sam suggested. Frodo shrugged sullenly, massively unhappy that the world seemed out to kill him slowly. He vaguely wondered if he had infuriated any Valar recently.

Anyway, the Hobbits helped him get back into the Sneaking Suit top...it took longer than they had wished, and it still hurt Frodo to move around so much. Nevertheless, they soon finished, and after they clasped his Elven cloak back about his shoulders, he grabbed the towel again and wiped his nose on it.

"I heard somewhere that it’s always good to know where your towel is," Pippin said. Then he quoted, "‘What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.’ I don’t remember where I heard that though...or why it was so important."

Frodo wrote, ‘So I don’t drip everywhere!’ Then he sneezed again and stomped his foot.

"Well, it shan’t matter if you do, Frodo...surely sneezing will be more noticeable than a trail of Hobbit nose drippings," Merry said pragmatically.

More writing. ‘Then what?! I can’t just stop!!’

"If Strider were here, he could probably fix you right up", Sam said. "Maybe they got some athelas here?"

‘Why would they have athelas here? It doesn’t grow in the snow.’

"Or maybe they have something else. There has to be something we can do."

The Hobbits thought for a moment, then Pippin decided to call up Otacon. "He might know where there was some sort of herbs around here."

When Otacon came on the line, he couldn’t help but smile at Frodo—the Hobbit was holding a towel up to his nose and sniffling and sneezing. "I’m guessing Frodo caught a cold."

Merry grabbed the paper out of Frodo’s hand before he could write any Kuduk curses on it. "He wouldn’t understand them anyway," Merry explained when Frodo gave him an annoyed look.

"Well, if you go to the computer room, it’s south of the Psycho Mantis’ office, on the same floor, there should be some cold medicine there. I don’t know if it will work on Hobbits, but hopefully it will." Then Otacon addressed Merry. "We saw how that Valium worked on Hobbits."

"You were watching?!" Merry gasped, embarrassed.

"Well...yeah, kinda...sorta...."

"That’s awful! Worse than eavesdropping!" Merry covered his face with his hands.

"Well...sorry. I hooked up with Mei Ling so I could help more. Anyway, if you do get the cold medicine, which you should," Otacon added after Frodo sneezed again, "you might want to pick up the body armor near where the gas mask was stored. I’m sure it would come in handy."

Pippin said, "Thanks, it probably would. Well...I guess we ought to be off."

"OK," Otacon said, and the Codec connection was cut.

Shortly, after giving Frodo back all his items and helping him get Sting and its scabbard in place, the Hobbits began slowly making their way out. Merry and Pippin took a quick side trip to get some more cups with water. Frodo refused to go back in the ‘Lab’, and no one wondered; Sam stayed with Frodo. Shortly Merry and Pippin returned with at least a two dozen cups held precariously between their long fingers and their chests. Frodo and Sam relieved the Hobbits of many of the cups, and after they had emptied them, they all set them in a corner, hopefully out of the way.

They were careful tip-toeing through the area, due to the small Pippin-induced tsunamis that had overtaken the area, and none of the Hobbits wanted to touch the water, not knowing what might have been in it before it leapt on high and soaked that poor guard.

Their going was a little slower than before, in deference to Frodo. He still hurt, and they expected he probably would for a bit yet. He was walking well, just slowly.

Once they had managed to get themselves out of the cell block and into the hallway, they were forced to quickly retreat into a shadowed alcove, for they heard Revolver Ocelot’s spurs clicking as he walked down the hall. Frodo looked terrified, and he pulled his hood over his face and seemed to get smaller and hide more than was necessary. The Hobbits heard Frodo singing, but it was no more than barely shaped breath, utterly lacking in voice, and unintelligible. He was holding the Ring in his hand, and it looked to be he was also fighting off a strong desire to hide with it as well. This all made Sam’s blood boil, but he restrained himself from leaving their hiding place.

Ocelot’s footfalls entered the cell block doorway, and thought they couldn’t hear him say anything, they were all quite certain he was cursing like nothing doing, for they heard a soft, slippery splash and the sound of a body hitting the ground. It took all of Merry and Pippin’s will power not to laugh about it. After a moment, they heard Ocelot stand up again, and more footfalls followed.

There was a pause, and then they heard crumpled paper cups hitting walls, and a door slide open, probably the one to the ‘Lab’. The Hobbits took the opportunity to run down the hall as fast as they could toward the elevator, dragging Frodo behind them. They reached the elevator, and Sam slapped a hand over Frodo’s face, covering his mouth and nose, to ward off or at least dampen the sound of an oncoming sneeze. Pippin pressed the upward pointing triangle.

The elevator door closed just as they all saw Ocelot storm out of the room, his face very nearly the color of a beet and his mouth moving in what must have been Mannish curses. Fortunately Ocelot didn’t look their way before the doors shut. Then Frodo finally sneezed in Sam’s hand, and Sam removed it, shaking it off and looking for the towel. Frodo was glaring and wiping his face with it, so Sam took a trailing edge and thoroughly cleaned his glove. He was very glad the Sneaking Suits had gloves...it was true Sam would do pretty well anything for Frodo, but dealing with a handful of Frodo-snot really would have stretched his limits.

During the short ride, Frodo wrote a note on his pad of paper. ‘Ocelot can’t talk either,’ it said, and Frodo looked maliciously happy about it. That was a bit unusual for Frodo, to be vengeful that way, but not one Hobbit blamed him in the slightest.

Soon the elevator arrived at the Oliphaunt hangar, and the Hobbits moved as quickly as the could. It was a tough spot to be in, knowing they had go slower so Frodo could keep up while at the same time being fully aware that at any moment Frodo could let go with some roof-raising sneeze and attract the attention of every guard on the island. Fortunately the elevator let off very near the cargo doors, and the Hobbits went through there toward the snow field. A quick glance with the Thermal Goggles by Merry revealed the security system had been disabled and they wouldn’t have to worry about the fire lines. So they ran through quickly and exited the Oliphaunt hangar.

It was just in time too—the Hobbits hadn’t noticed, but Frodo had been holding in a sneeze as long as he could, and as soon as the doors closed behind them, he let it go...amazing how much noise a Hobbit could make when they really didn’t want to.

Traversing the snow field presented little trouble; there were no guards, just the gun cameras, and they took the opportunity to grab more Claymores on their way to the Nuclear Warhead Storage building. The trip through the first floor of that building was quick as well—they’d been through it enough times to know the fastest route to the poor guard who they once again sword-whipped senseless. They almost felt bad for the poor guy—he would end this little terrorist take-over bruised and battered with only the briefest memory of some small thing tackling his legs several times. Fortunately, Frodo abstained from sneezing until they had gone down the elevator to the poisoned gas filled floor near Otacon’s room, where he had quite a fit, and the Hobbits covered their sensitive ears.

While Frodo’s face was nearly buried in his towel, Sam complained. "I’m gonna have to get that body armor, aren’t I. And I won’t even be able to wear it...and you two mischievous little monsters will braid my hair as soon as I come back."

"Oh we will not," Merry assured.

"You could always just leave your hair in utter disarray," Pippin said, "if you’re really that keen on keeping our fingers out of it. Or maybe you’d rather Frodo combed it out, what with his hands covered in germs and all."

Sam huffed but said nothing. With a suspicious glance at the young Hobbits, he got out his mask and yanked it on. Then he went through the door leading to the gas-filled hallway. As soon as he reached the corner where he knew there were gun cameras, he tossed out a Chaff, scrambled to the door Merry previously couldn’t open, grabbed the box, and ran back out. It didn’t take him long at all, and shortly he returned to the waiting Hobbits with the box.

Pippin took the box and opened it. Inside was something that looked a good deal like leather armor, made to fit over a Big Person’s clothes. He tried it on while Sam struggled to remove his gas mask. Merry sighed and went to help Sam get the mask off, and the two managed without upsetting Sam’s curls overly much. Frodo was too busy sneezing to notice much of anything, and had sat down in a corner...apparently practicing and perfecting his ‘miserable Hobbit’ expression.

The body armor needed some adjustment, but Pippin managed to get it on. It went down a little below his waist, restricting his movements, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have just in case. He took it off and stuffed it in a pocket.

Once they were done there, Sam helped Frodo up and they headed up to the red marble tiled room where Otacon had assured them that some cold medicine was to be found. The rooms were down to two guards again, one in the ‘Men’s Room’ and one patrolling the room south of the elevator.

"Dear holy Eru, do these Men just sit and drink all day long?!" Pippin asked, shocked.

"We may be making a stop by there ourselves soon enough," Sam said, referring to all the water they had drunk not too long ago.

"Well...we should go to the ‘Women’s Room’ if we have to," Merry said. "No guards."

Frodo took that moment to sneeze loudly, alerting the guards to their presence. Fortunately, the guard who was not otherwise engaged came out of the room slowly, and the Hobbits had time to hide before he saw them. This time Pippin held his hands over Frodo’s face until the guard returned to his patrol.

The whole time, Frodo squirmed, and when Pippin finally let go, he gasped for air and wrote, ‘ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!’

"What?" Pippin asked, taken aback. "Of course not! Just trying to keep us safe!"

‘Then next time don’t cover my mouth AND my nose!’

"Eh heh...," Pippin laughed nervously. "But Sam did in the elevator...."

‘NOT AS LONG!’

"Okay, sorry," Pippin said, while Merry snickered quietly. Frodo wiped his nose on the towel and then held it there in an attempt to delay any other inconvenient sneezes and to prevent his so-called friends from asphyxiating him.

After the coast was clear, the four Hobbits stealthily entered the south room. The guard was turned away...but Merry’s sharp ears caught Frodo’s involuntary inhaled prelude to another sneeze and promptly snatched the towel and covered the poor beleaguered eldest Hobbit’s face again. The sneeze executed quietly, and Merry wiped his hand on the towel before returning it to Frodo. Then Merry turned back to sneaking, which was just as well, because he missed a very nasty death glare.

To the Hobbits’ great fortune, the room they needed to get to was the first on their right, so they scooted in quickly, grabbed the little box, and hid under the desk so the guard wouldn’t see them. Merry examined the box; it contained a few little pink pills, but before he could get one out, Sam snatched it.

"We don’t need you hopped up on strange drugs again, Mr. Merry," Sam explained.

"I wasn’t gonna take it!" Merry protested. "I was getting one out for Frodo!"

"We don’t even know if this is the right stuff, Mr. Merry!" Sam held up the box. "Can you read what that says?!"

Merry frowned; Sam was quite right, the Roman letters were completely illegible to him. "Fine, let’s waste time calling Otacon about it," Merry sulked, "and hope Frodo here doesn’t blow the windows out of this little room sneezing in the mean time."

Frodo shot Merry a look, but it was obscured by the towel he kept under his nose.

While that was happening, Pippin called up Otacon. "Hey, Otacon, what’s this?" he asked, swiping the box from Sam’s hands and holding it up.

"Oh, that’s the cold medicine. Hey! I had an idea, while I was looking at that paper Frodo wrote...you guys seem to somehow speak the same language as us, right?"

"Well...er...yeah. I hadn’t thought of that." While Pippin was speaking he handed the box to Frodo and nodded that it was the right stuff, so Frodo started his attempt to extricate one of the little pills from the container.

"See, I thought, if you guys can write down your tengwar and tell me what each sounds like, I can then write down the right English letter. That way, you might be able to read some of the things written around this base." Otacon pushed his glasses up, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Oh, that is a good idea! So...when should we do this?"

"I can come to the Commander’s Room and we can do it there," Otacon said. "There aren’t usually any guards there."

"OK, let’s do that, as soon as Frodo takes his medicine," Pippin said, and closed the line. Frodo had finally managed to tear the package apart to get at one pink pill, scattering the rest. The package seemed to have been made to be difficult to get into. Then he took the little pill and waited.

"I wonder how long...," Sam said, but before he could get his answer out, Frodo had managed to fall unceremoniously forward, landing on his face, in a rather uncomfortable position. And he was fast asleep.

"Not long," Sam answered himself, and moved Frodo so he wouldn’t wake up with a hundred kinks in his legs from his current position. Frodo continued to sleep quite peacefully, with no indication that his being moved at all disturbed him.

Pippin called Otacon back. "Er...we might have to wait on that, Otacon. Frodo just fell asleep."

"Oh," Otacon said. "I guess I forgot to mention those cold medicines can make you really drowsy."

"Guess not," Pippin said.

Merry joined the conversation. "We can’t really move him right now...I would think dragging a Hobbit behind us would look suspicious to the guards."

"No, not really. Well...I have stealth camouflage, I can just come to where you are and we can make that little chart where you are now."

"OK, that sounds good," Pippin said.

"I’ll be right over," Otacon said, and closed the line.

Go on to Chapter 18