STILL HERE, HUH? WELL, GOOD
FOR YOU. I SUPPOSE YOU’RE
EAGER TO READ MORE OF THE
FILE. FINE, BUT TO CONTINUE,
YOU MUST HAVE LEVEL 4
CLEARANCE, AND TO GET LEVEL
4 CLEARANCE, I’M GOING TO
NEED A DNA SAMPLE. PLEASE
PLUCK A STRAND OF YOUR HAIR
AND PLACE IT ONTO THE
SENSOR FOR ANALYSIS.
UGH … CAN I GET A
STRAND NOT COVERED IN
DANDRUFF! TRY AGAIN.
LEVEL 4
ACCESS GRANTED
As Jackson hovered between consciousness and oblivion, he could make out several dark figures standing over him. They spoke angrily to one another.
“How did he find his way down here?”
“He’s been watching us.”
“Well, I guess we have to wipe his mind.”
“My pleasure.”
“We can’t wipe his mind. Benjamin gave him the upgrades. We can’t set him loose with all that technology. He’s got about ten billion dollars worth of nanobytes in his mouth. We should call for the director.”
“Since when do we listen to the director? I’m team leader and I say he needs a mind wipe.”
Jackson sat up groggily. He wished someone would turn on the light so he could see who was talking about him. “Where am I?”
“What did he say?”
“Who knows? He’s got so much metal in his mouth.”
“Who are you people?” Jackson said.
“He sounds like a baby. Do you want a bottle, baby?”
“Don’t tease him.”
“As if he deserves better. Hold his arms.”
“I got him,” another said as two very strong hands clamped down on Jackson’s shoulders.
Suddenly, a shaft of light illuminated two of the biggest front teeth Jackson had ever seen on a person. Jackson had seen donkeys with smaller teeth. Looking at them caused a strange sensation to come over Jackson. His head felt like it was full of soup and his thoughts seemed heavy. He wanted to leap from the chair but he’d lost the will to do so.
“Just stare into my teeth,” a voice said.
And then all the lights came on, and the owners of the voices were revealed. The hands holding Jackson belonged to tiny Flinch Escala and the giant teeth that threatened to steal his soul were attached to Heathcliff Hodges. Ruby Peet, Duncan Dewey, and Matilda Choi were standing nearby. Behind them was another figure, a tall, broad-shouldered man carrying a mop. He had just walked in and he was angry. It was the school janitor, Mr. Brand.
“What is going on in here?” he demanded.
“Look! You gotta help me,” Jackson said, “’cause these nerds are holding me against my will—”
Ruby interrupted him. “He’s seen the Playground. He’s gotten the upgrades. We have to wipe his mind.”
Mr. Brand hobbled forward, using his mop as support. He stood over Jackson and peered at him closely.
“There’s a very good chance that his brain can’t take it, Pufferfish,” Mr. Brand said. “I don’t want another Stevie Lazar on our hands.”
Jackson knew Stevie Lazar. Not long ago he had been a national spelling bee champion and on his way to NASA’s space camp for a week during fall break. Then, suddenly, he lost interest in school, friends, and bathing. Now he spent his days picking his nose, drooling, and singing nursery rhymes to a filthy sock puppet he carried with him everywhere he went. He had become a moron overnight. Were these kids responsible? Had they turned an honor roll student into a kid who stuffed his pockets with frozen fish sticks?
“How did this happen?” Brand continued.
“He found his way into the Playground and the science team chased him in here. Somehow he accessed the upgrade program,” Duncan said. “It must have been blind luck.”
“Or maybe he’s a spy,” Ruby said.
“I doubt very much that he’s a spy, Pufferfish,” Brand said. “Any suggestions other than erasing his brain?”
“Lock him up in a cell and throw away the key,” Matilda said.
Heathcliff agreed. “Remember how he treated us—spitwads, swirlies, atomic wedgies. He’s a menace. Lock him up, wipe his mind—either way, we’re doing the world a favor.”
Flinch shook his fist enthusiastically. With the lights on, Jackson could see the scrawny boy was wearing a strange harness that covered his arms and legs. A pulsing light flashed on a plate on his chest, right beneath a large knob. “Or you could let me throw him in the ocean. I’m strong like bull!”
Jackson was startled by the herd’s anger. He’d never heard anyone talk about him with such venom. Everyone liked him. Sure, he’d had a setback lately in the popularity department, but everyone knew he was a great guy.
“People, just calm down,” Brand said as he went to work unfastening the straps that tied Jackson to the bed. “There’s not going to be any mind wiping or throwing anyone in the ocean.”
“You’re not saying we’re going to kill him, are you?” Matilda asked. She broke into excited gasps, then used her inhaler to calm herself.
Brand shook his head and helped Jackson to his feet. “Hardly. I’m letting him go.”
Ruby clenched her fists. “Mr. Brand, as team leader I believe that’s my decision, and I say we lock him up.”
“Pufferfish, let me make this clear one more time. I’m the boss and this kid is going home,” Mr. Brand said.
Brand pushed a button on the wall and a glass tube came down from above and encased Jackson. He was sucked upward, and a moment later he was tumbling out of the lockers and onto the cold floor.
Jackson wanted to tell his family what he had experienced but was afraid they would think he had lost his mind. Not that he would blame them. He couldn’t expect his father and brother to believe that his elementary school was the headquarters of a secret organization run by five nerds and a janitor with a bad leg. Who would believe that? He wasn’t sure he believed it.
Maybe he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was sick. The tater tots at lunch had smelled a little funky.
Still, he felt he should say something. He waited until dinnertime.
“Dad, something happened at school today,” he said.
His brother, Chaz, who was fully dressed for football practice, laughed. “Did someone steal your lunch money again?”
Jackson’s dad wasn’t listening. He was busy spoon-feeding his closest friend and constant companion in life, a pit bull named Butch. Butch was a fat, sour animal who was bitterly jealous of Jackson and Chaz. He growled and snapped whenever the boys were around, but their father was convinced the animal farted rainbows. Butch’s worst quality, however, was his ability to steal their father’s attention.
“Dad, I really need to tell you something. It’s important,” Jackson said.