“Uh-oh,” Flinch said.
Two of the creatures flew down and buzzed by his head as if they were just interested in getting a better look. Then they zipped back up to join the others. The creatures chattered back and forth and then, all at once, like a crowd that has just witnessed the hometown team lose in the final second, all of their voices roared with anger.
“Uh-oh,” Flinch said again.
“What’s ‘Uh-oh’?” Brand asked.
“The nanobytes know I’m here,” Flinch said as the creatures scurried out of the gray meat and ran toward him, clicking their legs together like beetles. Flinch took a few more greedy gulps of juice, and, with sugar racing through his bloodstream, he could only think of one thing to do: run right at them with fists clenched. He stomped through them like a rampaging rhino, snatching two by their necks and smashing them together, causing them to explode into a thousand pieces of metal and circuitry. He punched another one’s head off its shoulders, then snatched one of its spindly limbs to use as a club on a dozen more.
“C’mon, ugly, let’s dance!” he shouted at one, which was soon a pile of broken robot parts. More and more came. He drank his juice and pounded his chest and shouted, “I AM MIGHTY!”
WELL, SO FAR YOU’VE DONE PRETTY WELL, OR MAYBE I JUST HAVEN’T BEEN CHALLENGING YOU. SO I’M GOING TO THROW OUT THREE VERY INTENSE TASKS. IF YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH THEM, THEN I WILL TIP MY HAT TO YOU AND HAPPILY REPORT THAT YOU ARE IN TIP-TOP SECRET AGENT SHAPE. THINK YOU’RE UP FOR THIS? GOOD!
CHALLENGE #1: ARM-WRESTLE A TRUCK DRIVER
YOU ARE A BRAVE SOUL. TRUCK DRIVERS ARE NOTORIOUSLY SURLY CHARACTERS WHO ENJOY A GOOD BOWL OF CHILI, THE OPEN ROAD, AND TEARING AN OPPONENT’S ARM OFF IN A GAME OF STRENGTH.
FIRST, FIND A TRUCK DRIVER. SECOND, FIND A DINER WITH A LOOSE POLICY ABOUT THIS MOST VENERABLE GAME. THIRD, SAY SOMETHING MEAN ABOUT THE TRUCK DRIVER’S MOTHER.
FORGET WHETHER OR NOT YOU WON—IF YOU SURVIVED, THEN YOU’RE A WINNER IN MY BOOK.
CHALLENGE #2: WRESTLE A BEAR
DON’T GIVE A THOUGHT TO THE FACT THAT THIS SKILL IS TOTALLY IMPRACTICAL, SINCE THERE ARE ONLY, LIKE, THREE BEARS WORKING AS ENEMY SPIES, SO THE ODDS OF BEING ON A MISSION WHERE YOU ENCOUNTER ONE SPYING ON YOUR COUNTRY IS PRETTY LIMITED.
FIRST, FIND A BEAR. SECOND, GET REALLY CLOSE TO THE BEAR AND POKE IT WITH A STICK. THIRD, THE REST WILL TAKE CARE OF ITSELF.
CHALLENGE #3: WIN THE OLYMPICS
YES, THE ENTIRE OLYMPICS: THE WINTER AND SUMMER GAMES, THE SKIING, THE WRESTLING, THE SHOT PUT, THE DECATHLON, THE FAST WALKING, THE GYMNASTICS, THE MEN’S ONE HUNDRED METER FREESTYLE, ALL OF IT. THEN, IF YOU CAN STILL STAND WITH ALL THOSE GOLD MEDALS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR NECK, YOU ARE TOUGH ENOUGH TO BE ON THIS TEAM!
Agent Brand and Dr. Kim stood over the monitor and watched the tiny dot that was Julio Escala move around in Heathcliff’s mutated body. Flinch was doing better than Brand could have ever hoped. Now that the boy was at the base of Heathcliff’s brain stem, he just had to find the transmitter, and then the world would stop being a gigantic insane asylum.
It couldn’t come a minute too soon. Since Flinch had been miniaturized and injected, they had lost eight of the remaining twelve scientists All that was left of Brand’s team was Dr. Kim, the three other scientists, Ms. Holiday, and the four juvenile delinquents. And it wouldn’t be long before the virus got to them as well.
“Can you believe how great he’s doing?” Ms. Holiday asked.
“I think I have misjudged him,” Brand said.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said. “There are lots of things in life you just don’t see until they are right in front of your eyes. Take me, for instance.”
Brand smiled and got one in return.
One of the remaining scientists rushed to Brand’s side. “Sir, may I have a word with you?”
“What is it, Doctor …”
“Yerkey, sir,” he said. “It’s very important and private.”
“Can it wait? I have to guide an agent into a human brain,” Brand said.
“It’s about the blood tests from before,” Dr. Yerkey said. “Some of the results were erased on purpose, and I found out who did it.”
“Who?” Dr. Kim cried.
Agent Brand turned away from the screen to face the scientist, but suddenly he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and everything went black.
Ms. Holiday stood over the unconscious bodies of Agent Brand and Dr. Yerkey. Her hand clutched a metal pipe from one of the experiments that had been dismantled to create the miniaturization rig. She looked at the weapon and grinned. Some things, like clobbering a person cold, were best done the old-fashioned way.
“Ms. Holiday!” Dr. Kim cried. “What are you doing?”
“C’mon, sister. You didn’t see that coming?” Ms. Holiday said as she reached into her pocket, removed a mask with a skull painted on the front, and pulled it over her face. “And don’t call me that name. My name is Miss Information.”
“She’s infected!” Dr. Kim cried.
“Duh!” Miss Information said, and then she slugged the woman on the chin. The doctor fell hard onto the floor, where she joined the others in sleepytown.
“Benjamin, it appears Agent Brand is incapacitated,” she said, turning her attention to the floating orb. “Control of the school passes to me as the next in command.”
Benjamin twittered. “I cannot do that. I’m shutting down all systems available to you and putting the Playground in lockdown.”
The woman snarled. “Benjamin, Supreme Override Four Seven X, and my password is ‘Dewey decimal.’”
Benjamin’s glowing blue light turned red, and then the orb spun around several times in midair. It bobbed and weaved as if struggling with something that was happening inside its circuits. Then it righted itself, and the red light glowed brighter than ever before. “Protocol Four Seven X. Operations of school are now in the hands of Ms. Holiday.”
“Very good, Benjamin,” she said. “Take the school out of lockdown. My boyfriend is here.”
Miss Information took her phone out of her bag and dialed it.
“I’ve been out here for hours, darling,” the Antagonist said in a strained voice.
“Sorry, honey bun, but it took a little longer to wrap all this up,” she said. “Why don’t you come and see me? I’m in the basement. Go through Locker 41.”
She hung up the phone and looked over at the two remaining scientists.
“You’re going to help me with a little chore,” she said.
The two men shook their heads.
Miss Information frowned behind her mask, then removed a bright red ray gun from her purse. “You do realize I’m a supervillain, right? Now what would a supervillain be without a superscary weapon? Let me introduce you to mine. It’s called the atom smasher. Wanna see what it does?”
The men shook their heads.