The Exiled Gem

Mabel in a Mouse-trap

Alexandra had to agree, Watson might be a trouble-maker, but if he set himself to something, he left no stone unturned to achieve it.

She used to eat at a different table, sitting all alone. And she was doing the same thing the next day. Wondering why her head felt heavy - she must have slept fitfully - she did have memories of the queerest of dreams. Her nose was slightly runny that morning. And as she was perched upon a low chair, sniffing and rubbing her bleary eyes, she felt a shadow fall upon her.

'Mabel, sit with us,' Watson offered, cheerfully.

'Thanks, but I'm fine here,' Alexandra smoldered, without even turning behind. His friendliness not wearing off in the night was in itself, a great achievement. But she didn't want to see a lot of it. A friendly Watson was unnerving.

But as a reply, he picked up her plate and took it to their table, leaving her no choice but to follow. It was getting slightly amusing now. Especially after the deportation threat, that there had been no change in his resolution ... perhaps, this time, Watson was seriously serious.

The third year, meanwhile, was the most important one. Fifth years reappeared in their schedule, teaching them real spying.

When you have to uncover information, go close to the person who can give it to you. Be fearless. Assume a different identity, change your credentials. Be extra careful to not even expose your true personality to them.

The mistake she had made with the court barrister: remaining Mabel. No, she had to take another name. And, so that they would never be at a loss for names, they were asked to fashion a new name for themselves each morning. Alexandra tried "Daphne", "Emberly", "Kaitlyn", "Calliope" and "Juniper".

But "Alexandra" was better than them all. It was who she was. It was who she would always be, though now, she was called "Mabel" for at least a hundred times daily. At first, she had been slow to respond to Mabel. When people had called her for six times, was when she used to register that they were referring to her. Now, it was good as Alexandra. Only good, never better.

If at all you are caught, stay calm. Showing your weaknesses is empowering your oppressor. And remember: your country precedes this council, but the Council precedes your own individual lives. If you accept that, even the vilest tortures won't hurt you.

What were they supposed to do then? Laugh at their captors? That would only speed up the process of death. Nevertheless, since these were "known, tested and revised" rules of spying, Alexandra decided it was best she didn't question them.

You do not have to book-smart to be a good spy. You have to fast on your feet. Steady of heart. You shouldn't fail, Third Years, a Soldier cannot afford to fail on battle-ground. And a Spy's whole life is a battle-ground.

As if they needed reminding.

Stealth is a spy's greatest ally! Be like snakes. Do not attack from the front, baring yourself. Attack obliquely, diagonally, form behind: when the opponent is the weakest. Cause harm, quick and fatal and retreat! There is rationality in retreating. A spy must place rationality even above honorable death.

It was easier said than done. Honorable death somehow meant quick death. When things went dishonorable ... they couldn't be as sure. And as far as snakes were concerned, Alexandra just knew she was sneaky, not snakey.

Face your fears, Third Years! Face the pain: it is only weakness leaving you. A spy faces things worse than death. A spy faces torture worse than the physical one. Prepare yourselves. Your journey demands the preparation!