“I bet they’re looking for us, darling,” she said. She turned to her boyfriend, who sat in a chair in the corner of her office. He was wearing a tuxedo and holding a white cane, and might have looked very dapper if he wasn’t a scarecrow with a head made from a stuffed burlap sack. Miss Information had painted a smiley face on the sack and hung a sign from his neck that read ALEX.
She planted a kiss on the scarecrow’s burlap face, then hoisted him over her shoulder. Every step showered loose straw behind her.
She carried Alex into an enormous domed room. The ceiling, which was held aloft by towering pillars, was decorated with intricate ceramic mosaics dedicated to the four branches of eviclass="underline" raving madmen, world conquerors, firebrand pyromaniacs, and fast-food workers. Below was a room as long and wide as a football field. Hundreds of tables and workstations filled the space, and at each station busy scientists were working feverishly on bizarre inventions: sun-exploding missiles, laser-guided death rays, armies of evil robotic beavers, tidal-wave machines, devices to awaken prehistoric monsters … It was like … a playground of evil! Every time Miss Information entered the room, she couldn’t help but beam with pride. Every detail was built according to her vision—and to think it had all come to her in a dream.
“Miss Information! We’ve had a breakthrough!”
One of her scientists hobbled across the vast room. She didn’t know any of their names, but this one had a ball and chain attached to his leg, which meant he had tried to escape at some point. Miss Information hated when the scientists tried to escape. It really hurt her feelings.
“Oh, yes?” she said. “Which one?”
The scientist removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out on a nearby table. It showed a crude drawing of a big circle. Beneath it in neat print were the words talking, flying, and robotic ball.
“Finally!” Miss Information cried. “What took so long?”
The scientist gulped nervously. “We apologize for the delay, but as Dr. Silver remarked, the design was a little vague.”
“Vague? Everything you needed to know is right here on this paper. Where is this Dr. Silver?”
“You had him placed in a cage full of hungry tigers.”
“Oh, that Dr. Silver! Well, that’ll teach him to be a negative Nelly!”
“Actually, the tigers ate him.”
“And now you’re being a negative Nelly!” she said, huffing. “Why can’t you guys be happy? I hired you to work on supercool ideas. This is a dream job for a scientist.”
“Um, actually, you kidnapped all of us and force us to work with threats and … tigers.”
“Listen, I’ve never run a worldwide criminal enterprise before, so you guys are going to have to cut me some slack! There’re going to be some growing pains until I figure it all out. Now, you said you had something to show me?”
He reached into his lab coat and pulled out a silver ball the size of a large tomato. He set it in her hands and pushed a button on its surface. The ball hummed to life. Like magic, it spun like a top and hovered in midair. Purple lights beamed from tiny holes and illuminated the walls and ceiling.
Miss Information turned to her straw boyfriend, who sat in a chair shedding more of his innards onto the floor. “Sweetums! It works.”
She turned back to the orb, dazzled by its lights and sounds. “Happy birthday, Benjy!”
A deep, emotionless voice came from within the orb. “Who is Benjy?”
“You are, silly.” She giggled. “How do you feel?”
“I do not have hands, so I cannot feel anything.”
“No, I don’t mean that literally,” she replied. “I’m asking about what you are experiencing.”
“I do not experience anything. I log and save what I perceive.”
Miss Information frowned and turned to the scientist. “I’m unhappy, Mr. Scientisty-man. I thought Benjy would have more sass.”
“Sass?”
“You know—personality. I thought he’d be snarky,” she said. “This wasn’t how I imagined the robot at all. He needs to have opinions and a sense of humor. This thing is totally boring. No offense, Benjy.”
“I cannot be offended. I am not programmed with emotions.”
“See?” she exclaimed. “Lame!”
“He’s a robot, ma’am, with limited artificial intelligence. What you’re asking for is simply not possible,” the scientist said, his voice shaking.
Miss Information eyed the man disapprovingly. Then she shouted over the din of experiments and chatter, “Does anyone know when the tigers eat lun—”
“But we can fix him!” the scientist cried.
Miss Information turned to her stuffed beau. “Really?” she said as if she were having a conversation. “But I wanted him to be funny. Well, if you think so.”
With a pout in her voice she turned back to the scientist. “Let’s leave Benjy the way he is.” She leaned in to whisper in the terrified man’s ear. “I think Alex is a little jealous about the competition for my attention. You should get to work on the next part of my plan.”
The scientist nodded and forced a smile on his face. “The machine that gives children superpowers?” he whispered back.
“Yes. You got my designs, correct?”
“I have the crayon drawing of the chair that you drew,” he said. “So, yes, I got your designs.”
“Well, chop-chop,” Miss Information said, raising her voice so everyone could hear. “Time’s a-wastin’!”
The scientist darted off as fast as he could with a ball chained to his leg.
“Benjy, welcome to the team. This is Alex, my boyfriend,” Miss Information said, gesturing to the straw man. “He’s a master spy and an international man of danger.”
“That is a scarecrow,” Benjy said matter-of-factly.
Miss Information seized the stuffed man and gave him a hug. “Oh, silly, there must be something wrong with your visual sensors.”
“My sensors are functioning within—”
“No time for chitchat right now, Benjy. I want to show you our evil headquarters.”
Miss Information hoisted the scarecrow onto her back and led the orb through her facility. They passed all manner of space-age vehicles: cars that drove underwater, flying motorcycles, helicopters that ran on maple syrup, mini submarines, and many more. In another room they found weapons: submachine guns, laser pistols, rocket launchers, matter vaporizers—even a flamethrower.
“Look at all my toys, Benjy. We have the most advanced computer and surveillance tech in the world and a full-time staff dedicated to creating one doomsday device after another. And the break room has a juicer! Best of all, we’re hidden several stories below a middle school.”
Benjy spun around and beeped. “Yes, my internal GPS pinpoints our location as beneath the Margreet Zelle Detention Center for the Incorrigible.”
“You are correct. This school houses an army of punks, juvenile delinquents, and bad apples. It’s the biggest collection of bullies in North America. They’re going to be very helpful in my plans to take over the world.”
The orb clicked. “May I ask a question?”
“You betcha.”
“Have you given any thought to the logistical complications of maintaining control over the whole world in the highly unlikely event that you succeed? For instance, how will you effectively manage a planet of over seven billion people, all of whom will be plotting to retake their freedom? How will you juggle the various economic needs of each nation? Do you plan on ruling the world with an iron fist or benevolence? Have you found a solution to the needs of poorer countries, or do you plan on subjecting everyone to slavery and destroying the industrialized world? If it is the latter, have you planned for housing, food, clean water, and access to health care? How will you handle the various religious needs of everyone you rule? How do you maintain a single currency for an extremely divergent people who all have different cultural and economic needs?”