Chapter 27: The Scent of Disaster (Part II)

Ah-choo! Ahead of them, Howie broke into a short sneezing fit as they passed a stand of flowers. “Urgh, whatever these are they always do that to me. The smell reminds me of summer back at my parent’s ranch, always so much ragweed I’d end up with a runny nose the entire time.”

“Need a tissue?” Andrew asked, pulling his backpack around. “I’ve had a cold for a few days, so I’ve got some. Here you go.”

“Thanks, dude,” Howie said. He blew his nose with a loud snggrt eliciting an expression of disgust from Frog. The green haired girl dodged out of his way when Howie went to toss the used tissue into a nearby trashcan. Her motion caused her to bump Roger, which caused him to jostle into Elaine.

“Wow, sorry,” he said as she righted herself. Roger’s hands held out as if to help steady her, but too shy to actually touch her.

She didn’t need the help but the gesture put her inside of his personal space in a way that Frog warned her not to intrude on other people so she politely stepped back. As she did, she detected a scent she’d not noticed before—or at least had discounted from earlier meets—a grim musk that seemed to emanate from his clothing. She froze in place and turned her head slightly, trying to breathe the smell into her other nostril. Roger opened his mouth to apologize again but Elaine shook her head and grabbed his arm pulling it directly beneath her nose.

Roger’s face crinkled with confusion. “Wha—?” But he didn’t move to retrieve his arm from her grip.

“Elaine,” Frog said with a curt tone. “Sometimes forgets that people have personal space.”

“It’s not that.” Elaine reached out and grabbed Frog’s arm to draw her over. “Here,” she said. “Smell his arm.”

“You’re wearing cologne?” Frog snickered softly and chuckled at some inward joke.

“And you’re wearing perfume,” Elaine said to Frog.

“Autumn Evening Glow au Frog,” she replied. “I cooked it myself last semester, I still have three bottles of it and I’m going to wear it until I run out. Not bad for undergrad lab work, if I do say so myself.”

“Howie, what does Frog’s perfume remind you of?” Elaine asked.

Roger’s friend leaned close to Frog—a little closer than would have been considered polite—and made a dramatic show of breathing in. “Smells like a beautiful woman,” he said, then promptly displayed his hands in half-apology before going on. “Reminds me of forest flowers by a lake. You made that yourself? Not bad, brains on a girl is sexy.”

“Thanks,” Frog said.

“What’s the whole cologne, perfume thing about?” Roger asked.

“Final question,” Elaine said staring directly at Howie. “Do you remember smelling black licorice anytime in the past few days? And does that remind you of anything?”

“Remind me of anything? No, I don’t like black licorice,” he said, “but I do remember smelling it a few days ago… Jewels. No. Julie? Ah, right, Julie. I think her last name was Ang, she, uh, invited me to a meeting and the she smelled like black licorice. You know?” He wrinkled his forehead for a moment, taking a glance at Roger, who raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been smelling that on and off ever since then. Didn’t think much of it. I guess the more girls than just Frog here have been experimenting.”

Elaine shook her head. “No, I think this is altogether something different. Frog, do you have that flier that Howie gave you when we first approached?”

“Right here.” She tugged it out of her pocket and unfolded it. After holding it up to her nose, a small smile quirked onto her lips. “Well, check that out, it smells faintly of black licorice. Care to clue the rest of us mortals in?”

“The nam-shub operates using a Limbic system hijack,” Elaine said, twirling a finger around her ear in a circular motion from her eye down to her throat.

Roger pursed his lips and waved for Elaine’s attention. “Black licorice…?” he said. “Didn’t we run into a rather strong concentration of that smell at Tom Barret’s office? What does a smell have to do with the mind control?”

“The gremlins are probably resorting molecules in the air to produce the smell to make people more susceptible to suggestion. It’s probably using the scent to trigger a reaction in the amygdale. It’s actually a big part of how Frog’s perfume works, the smell may be subtle to most people, but human males will find it slightly arousing.” When Roger glanced at Frog at the end of that she sated his unspoken question with a sly smirk. “Nonetheless, this would likely explain why our presence broke your friend’s indoctrination so easily; and if Andrew has had a cold all week it would prevent the smell from lowering his stress threshold to a level the nam-shub needs to become effective.”

“I still don’t follow,” Roger said. “So you’re saying a smell is brainwashing people?”

“Not quite,” Frog said. “Ever had your friends tell you about how certain smells remind them of childhood memories? For example, Zane sometimes comments that the WD40 reminds him of working on miniature robotics with his father in the garage when he was six. Or my friend Linda who can’t stand the smell of vanilla because it reminds her of the good times she had with her now dead grandmother.”

“Black licorice doesn’t remind me of anything, though,” Roger said.