Immediately, the scientists went to work putting together the plan. They ran to the farthest reaches of the Playground, collecting tools and equipment. They went through all the gizmos, gadgets, and gear the team had at its disposal.
Eventually, everyone was ready, and the team assembled in Heathcliff’s holding cell. Next to his gigantic head was a large contraption made up of a huge tank filled with liquid, a series of tubes that led from the tank to a hypodermic needle, and Mr. Miniature’s shrink ray on a stand facing the tank. Next to this, several bizarre suits hung from a clothing rack. They were part scuba gear, part astronaut uniform, and they looked like something a Martian might wear in an alien invasion movie. Flinch marveled at the setup, even if he wasn’t quite sure how it all worked.
“We had to raid a few other experiments, but we’re happy to report that everything we needed was at hand,” Dr. Kim told the small remaining group. “Best of all, we have these containment suits designed by Dr. Charnoff, who, unfortunately, was infected yesterday. He built about a dozen prototypes—”
“Prototypes … as in untested?” Ms. Holiday asked. “Do we really want to send someone on a mission with untested equipment?”
Dr. Kim nodded. “I’m afraid they’re our best option. They were designed for space missions, and so they’re airtight, which will keep whoever goes in safe and sound. Plus, they generate a low-level deflection technology, a sort of force field, that may help keep away trouble.”
“What kind of trouble could there be in a body?” Flinch asked.
“Oh, I don’t know—maybe like a million different things,” Hooper said. “The acid inside the stomach could eat through the person’s skin within minutes, there are substances on the tongue that could dissolve you, or white blood cells that could attack you and rip you apart. Whoever goes in is going to face a lot of danger.”
“That’s exactly right,” Dr. Kim said, impressed. “But Dr. Charnoff’s suit also has a few gadgets that will help. There are harpoon guns in both the arms and legs. These can be fired into the walls of the circulatory system to keep our hero from being swept away by the bloodstream. Then there’s a laser inside the right glove that can be used to slice open passages from one organ to another. It was originally designed as a welding tool, but, shrunk down, it’ll be so small that it shouldn’t cause any real damage to Heathcliff.”
“So how’s the person going to get in?” Flinch asked as he studied the equipment.
“This is the really brilliant part. While wearing the containment suit, the agent will be placed in this tank of saline. The beam will shrink its contents, which will then fill up this hypodermic needle. Then I will inject it into Heathcliff, and the hunt for the transmitter will begin.”
“And how does this person get out of Heathcliff?” Ms. Holiday asked.
Dr. Kim smiled. “That’s the most important question, right? We don’t want our hero floating around inside of Heathcliff for the rest of his or her life. We’ve created a timer system for the miniaturization process. We’re going to set it for two hours, which should be plenty of time to complete the mission. When the time is up, the agent should be inside one of Heathcliff’s pores or in his nostril or mouth. Then the process reverses.”
“Why a timer? Why can’t one of us flip the switch and just make the agent big again?” Brand asked.
“We may all be infected by then,” Dr. Kim said. “It’s a backup plan, in case no one’s capable of operating the ray gun.”
The crowd was quiet for some time before Brand spoke. “Will this work?”
“I believe it can, if things go well,” Dr. Kim said. “But it’s not without obstacles. First, Heathcliff’s body had to go through massive mutations to make his head this enormous. Organs, skeletal structure, the entire cardiovascular system have been moved in all directions to make room for his massive brain. And then there’s the problem of who to send.”
“That’s already settled,” Brand said as he hoisted himself onto his feet with the help of his cane. “I’m going to do it.”
“Alexander, you can’t!” Ms. Holiday said. “Send me. I can handle this.”
Brand shook his head. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’ll go! That would rule!” Toad cried. The rest of his friends volunteered as well.
“This argument is moot,” Dr. Kim said. “We have to assume that almost everyone in this room is infected with the nanobytes. We can’t send anyone in that might succumb to its effects.”
“Well, how do we know who has it?” one of the other scientists asked. “We tried to do blood tests, but someone deleted half the results.”
“They were tampered with?” Brand scowled. “I was told it was some sort of computer malfunction.”
“It’s starting to look like someone intentionally destroyed the records,” Dr. Kim said.
“But who?” Ms. Holiday asked. “And why?”
“Someone is infected and doesn’t want us to know. He or she may already be in quarantine, or it might be one of us. We’ll have to worry about that later,” Dr. Kim replied. “For now, there’s only one person who we know for sure is safe from the virus.”
Every head in the room turned toward Flinch.
“Agent Flinch is our only candidate. He is immune to the infection,” Dr. Kim said.
“I am so jealous!” Jessie cried, his breath whistling. “Do you have any idea what the potential for juvenile delinquency is inside a body?”
“I’m not going,” Flinch said. “I’ve been the team leader now three times, and each time something crazy has happened. Paris is a disaster, they’re still trying to get the Empire State Building back to its original size, and Hollywood—well, Hollywood is weird already. But anyway, I’m not good with the pressure. My brain is too scattered. The more sugar I take to fuel the harness, the harder it is for me to think. What if I get in there and screw up? What if I accidentally hurt Heathcliff? No way. There has to be someone else.”
Brand put his hand on Flinch’s shoulder. Flinch looked up into his boss’s face and could see him struggling with what to say. The man wasn’t good with words. He could take out an entire army of terrorists but often lost the battle to say something inspiring. He looked straight into Flinch’s eyes and said one word: “Tough.”
“Huh?”
“Tough!” Brand shouted. “So it’s hard. So you’ve made some mistakes! You know what? Everyone does. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to go and do your job. Flinch, I’ll admit, I kept you in the background because you’re unpredictable. But during the past week I’ve learned to respect that unpredictability. Your plans may not always be the best in the beginning, but when the crazy stuff happens, as it always does, your mind can adapt faster and more creatively than any person I have ever met. So listen, you’re in charge. Don’t give me any nonsense about how you don’t feel confident. It’s time to save the world, Flinch. That’s what you do.”
“Was that a pep talk?” Flinch asked.
Brand frowned. “Get in the containment suit, buster.”
Flinch was strapped into a harness and lowered into one of the containment suits, and then the remaining science team locked it closed. A number of electronic panels lit up along Flinch’s arms and chest. The tips of his fingers glowed, as did his feet.
Dr. Kim handed him a helmet with a clear visor to protect his head. “The feet and hands of the suit have propulsion tech so that you can motor about—they work like Matilda’s inhalers and should help you move through the bloodstream. And don’t forget the harpoon guns on the side of your arms and legs for tethering yourself. Use them sparingly. There’s only so many feet of cable at your disposal.”
Flinch turned his head and saw a huge pack strapped on the back of the suit. “What’s that?”
“That, my friend, is fruit punch,” Dr. Kim said. “It runs into the helmet via a tube. There aren’t any vending machines inside Heathcliff, so you have to bring your own fuel. I’ve calculated your daily sugar intake, which happens to be quite frightening, and have estimated how much you will need for two hours.”