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The Return of Meteor Boy? Page 19
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“Leave it to me kid,” she responded. “But you’ve got a lot of explaining to do once we’ve taken care of things here.”
The Bee Lady immediately swung into action, redirecting an enormous swarm of bees to fly over to Professor Brain-Drain, driving him away from the Tipler. They then circled around him, trapping him in place. A smaller swarm headed for the control panel, but instead ran up against some sort of electromagnetic force that was beginning to form around the Tipler. Just as I was about to panic, though, they began doing the oddest thing. The bees formed into a single line and began moving in a swirling pattern around the Tipler. They appeared to be moving with the rotational force rather than against it. With each circle around the machine they came in closer until they finally reached the number pad.
There, at the command of their mistress, they punched the buttons that changed the number on the screen from 65,435,772 to 25. Professor Brain-Drain, completely surrounded by the main mass of bees, hadn’t noticed a thing. But the bees had only done half the job—the lever was still set for the past. I needed it set for the future. Moving it was too big a job for a swarm of bees. Before I could figure out a solution, though, a more important problem arose.
“Look! There are the boys!” Lord Pincushion shouted.
They were in the clutches of the Commune for Justice. The five hippies had seen the arrival of the League of Ultimate Goodness, and like any good cowards, they were making a break for it. The only problem is they were taking Inflato and Funnel Boy with them as hostages. Or so they thought.
“I’ll deal with these misfits,” Lord Pincushion volunteered. The two boys were surrounded by six SkyDiamond duplicates, running as fast as they could to reach a rainbow band that arced off into the sky.
Drawing six short blades from various parts of his body, he strode to within a dozen yards of the captive boys, held one of the blades out in front of him by its tip, and then squinted one eye as he judged the distance and speed of his targets.
“Oh my gosh!” I started to gasp. “He’s not going to—”
“Shhh.” The Animator calmed me. “Don’t disturb his aim.”
Sure enough, Lord Pincushion let the blades fly, and one by one they flew straight and true to their targets, shattering each of the crystalline figures holding Funnel Boy and Inflato captive.
“My turn!” The Animator almost giggled as he clapped his hands rapidly.
He stepped forward and with just a twinkle of his eyes, the rainbow, which had been intended as a means of escape whipped around and encircled the startled hippies. The Animator took complete control of the inanimate band and used it to wrap up the members of the Commune for Justice in a multicolored prison. All the villains were now out of commission.
“I appear to be just in time!”
I turned to see that the Amazing Indestructo had finally arrived on the scene.
“No,” Lord Pincushion replied dryly. “Just in time would have been about two hours ago. But since you’re finally here, why don’t you do us all a favor and stop this device—whatever it is.”
“There’s no stopping it now.” Professor BrainDrain danced and chortled with fiendish glee from within the cloud of bees that entrapped him. “Disaster is only minutes away.”
“We’ll see about that,” AI snorted, barreling toward the cylinder. At this point it was moving so fast that it was practically a blur. AI plunged straight at it as if he intended to knock the enormous structure on its side. Instead, despite using his full force, the icon of indestructibility was hurled back with an equally powerful force. He landed in a heap right at the feet of his astounded teammates.
“Something’s not right,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s some kind of impenetrable barrier wrapped around that thing. What are we going to do?”
“Why don’t you use your new rocket pack to fly up to the top and remove the meteor?” suggested Zephyr. “Perhaps the electromagnetic disturbance is weaker up above the tower.”
“Are you kidding?” AI said. “Look at the way that rock is glowing. The thing is practically radioactive!”
“Oh, good heavens, man,” Lord Pincushion said in disgust, “you’re indestructible.”
“No way,” he insisted.
“I can do it,” I said, knowing that my destiny, for good or for ill, was at hand.
The entire League of Ultimate Goodness turned toward me, looks of concern creasing their faces. The only person who looked happy was AI.
“See,” said AI, “the kid wants a chance to prove himself.”
“You’re pathetic,” countered Lord Pincushion sharply.
“This job is mine,” I suddenly heard Inflato shout. “I should have been AI’s sidekick, not Meteor Boy.”
Before anyone could stop him, Inflato darted for the tower. But the repulsing force was spreading. The army of bees became disturbed and began bolting in confusion. Just as Inflato got as close to the tower as he could, Professor Brain-Drain was suddenly free. Having no other immediate protection, he grabbed hold of Inflato, taking him hostage. Holding a single brain-draining finger near the frightened boy’s head, he made his demand.
“Back off, do-gooders,” he ordered, “or I’ll drain this kid’s brain until he’s only as bright as an inner tube. Just stay back for another two minutes until my Tipler is at full strength and then I’ll let him go.”
“The cad,” I heard Lord Pincushion utter as I came up beside him.
“I know how I can get to that meteorite,” I told him. “If I fly in a tight spiral motion from the bottom to the top, I can duplicate what worked for the swarm of bees. By the time I reach the top I’ll be close enough to grab the rock.”
“Anything is worth a try,” said Lord Pincushion, “but your attempt could cost your friend his intelligence. Wait until I resolve that situation first. You’ll know when to act.”
With that, Lord Pincushion strode out to meet the enemy with nothing to protect himself except a knife, a saber, a javelin, an ax, two corkscrews, two butcher blades, three daggers, four army knives, four skewers, six types of forks, enough steak knives for eight place settings, and one dueling foil, which he proceeded to withdraw from an area near his spleen.
“Come forward and face me like a gentleman, you scoundrel,” he challenged.
“Ah, the leader of the League of Ultimate Goodness,” Professor Brain-Drain taunted. “You’ve signed away your future and your self-respect, Pincushion, all because you made the mistake of assuming that the people of Superopolis would be there to support you after everything you’ve done for them.”
“The public may have disappointed me,” he acknowledged, “but a true hero never disappoints the public.”
“A true hero, like the one standing behind you?” scoffed the Professor as everyone turned to the Amazing Indestructo. He had a “what? who, me?” sort of look on his face. “He sees himself taking your place as my greatest foe, never understanding that it was your intelligence that made you a threat to me. He’s merely a powerful buffoon who is shameless enough to let children do his dangerous work.”
“Hey, you’re talking like I’m not even here,” AI protested.
“It’s true he’s a buffoon,” Lord Pincushion agreed, “but I’m a man of my word and I can’t go back on it now. I can, however, finish you off here and now before I go into retirement. And I have every intention of doing so. Prepare to defend yourself.”
“If only I could,” the Professor said, grinning, his finger creeping ever closer to the nervous boy’s head, “but I left my weapon collection at home.”
“Then, by all means, borrow one of mine,” Lord Pincushion offered, whipping off his top hat to reveal a hatchet sticking straight up from his skull.
Before Professor Brain-Drain could react, Lord Pincushion flung the hatchet straight at him. Luckily for the Professor, he ducked just in time and the hatchet clattered against the colander on his head. But in the process he lost his grip on Inflato, who ran for his life.
I knew this was my sign and I hurtled myself toward the tower with all the speed I could muster. I reached it in a second and began circling the electromagnetic field as closely as I could. Spiraling around the Tipler, I began moving higher up and closer to the tower with every loop. But something wasn’t right. The Tipler appeared to be moving even faster with every one of my revolutions. I actually appeared to be enhancing the device’s power. Even worse, I saw that the lever was still set to send me twenty-five years even further into the past.
“Meteor Boy! Stop!” I heard Lord Pincushion holler as he began running toward the Tipler, his fencing sword still in his hand. Unfortunately, Inflato came running from the opposite direction and crashed right into him. With a look of complete surprise on his face, Inflato got to his feet. But surprise turned to horror as he looked down at the fencing blade sticking into his stomach. Only the tip appeared to have pierced him, but he quickly grabbed the blade to remove it.
“Inflato, no!” Lord Pincushion gasped, but he was too late. The instant Inflato pulled it out the air rushed out of him like from a burst balloon. Before anyone could grab him he began scudding around, rocketing this way and that in no predictable pattern. At the very same instant, I reached the top of the tower and my tightest revolution. The giant metal cones were beginning to tip. The meteorite was within my grasp. I reached out and grabbed hold of it, and in that instant the electromagnetic force vanished—just as Inflato collided with the lever.
I heard Professor Brain-Drain let out a howl of despair as the collision shifted the lever from the left all the way to the right. Then there was a sudden blinding flash, and everything went dark.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Forth and Back
A split second later I was back in my own time. I knew it was my own time because of the ten-story-tall layer cake that I was hurtling toward at a good two hundred miles per hour. I couldn’t have been more grateful for its presence, though, because I instantly realized I no longer had the Meteor Boy jet pack, or its controls. I must have lost them when I was catapulted through time. I was, however, still holding the prodigium meteorite. Its added weight helped propel me smack into the side of the cake at a point about fifty feet off the ground.
I must have plunged fifteen feet into the spongy and still surprisingly moist cake. I figured I must only be a few feet away from bursting out of the other side, and I briefly toyed with the idea of eating my way out. But when I turned around and saw that I had left a clear tunnel behind me, I scooted around and began making my way back, rolling the meteorite in front of me.
Reaching the edge, I looked down at the crowds and realized it had to be Thursday afternoon. I saw my classmates over in one area displaying their science fair experiments as parents and teachers milled about them. I saw my father’s team just below me with their thousands of normal-size pies and cakes all set up for their bake sale. Uncle Fluster’s ice cream truck was parked nearby with no customers anywhere near it. On the platform in front of the tower, the Amazing Indestructo was posed between Mayor Whitewash and Professor Brain-Drain, who was still dressed as the artist Crispo, while half a dozen members of the League of Ultimate Goodness stood alongside. Every last person down there was looking up at me.
I realized that Crispo had just removed the shroud that had covered his “project” and that the giant water tower in Telomere Park was rotating at a steadily increasing speed. After all, it made sense. The only thing the professor was missing from his plan was the meteorite in my hands.
As if he had read my mind, Bliss suddenly dropped down in front of me, hanging on a rainbow rope, and grabbed the meteorite from right out of my hands. I looked up just in time to see the entire Commune for Justice arcing away on a rainbow toward the dish sitting atop the tower—the same one I had stolen the meteorite from five minutes and twenty-five years ago. Professor Brain-Drain began chortling and cackling as he jumped up and down for joy. AI and the members of the League of Ultimate Goodness stood with their mouths hanging open, oblivious to Crispo’s odd behavior.
Apparently, everyone was too busy looking up at me. I immediately spotted my mother and father who had enormous expressions of relief on their faces.
“OB! You made it back!” I heard my father shout. “Thank heavens, Lord Pincushion was right!”
“Don’t worry about me,” I hollered back. “Stop Professor Brain-Drain!”
“Oh, don’t worry about him,” my father shook his head. “He must be dead. We’ve had a trap ready for him for days, and there’s been no sign of him.”
I guess a paint-spattered lab coat and a shower cap was enough to fool the citizens of Superopolis. I should have been more specific in my letter.
“Crispo is Professor Brain-Drain!” I shouted as loudly as I possibly could.
As I said it, Bliss deposited the meteorite on the top of the tower and the Time Tipler began to pick up speed dramatically. Everything I had done—my trek through time, my two-day career as Meteor Boy, my disgust at having helped turn the Amazing Indestructo into the city’s most financially successful hero—had all been for nothing. Professor Brain-Drain was back in possession of the prodigium meteorite and was once again preparing to transport Superopolis sixty-five million years back in time.
To my relief the Amazing Indestructo grabbed Professor Brain-Drain by the collar and hoisted him into the air.
“This can’t be Brain-Drain,” he insisted. “He’s dead.”
“Look under his shower cap,” I yelled down.
AI reached up and yanked the big poofy cap off Crispo’s head, revealing Professor Brain-Drain’s telltale trademark colander. The entire crowd let out a gasp.
“B-but you’re supposed to be dead,” stammered AI.
“Many of us have returned from the dead today,”
Brain-Drain hissed, “including your former sidekick.”
“That can’t be. He’s just a kid I hired . . .”
“Yes, the exact same one you hired twenty-five years ago,” confirmed the Professor. “How else do you explain him showing up here with the same meteorite he was stealing when he vanished?”
“It is him!” the Amazing Indestructo cried. “I wasn’t responsible for his death after all!”
“Not yet, anyway,” teased Professor Brain-Drain. “He looks like he could fall from that rather large pastry at any moment.”
“No! Don’t—” I began to yell, but AI paid no attention. He set Professor Brain-Drain down and launched himself into the air toward me. By the time he reached me, the Professor had made it over to the time-setting panel and punched 65,435,797 onto the number panel. He had added twenty-five years to the number I had seen in the past to account for the time that had elapsed since then. The lever was still set to the past, just as it had been when it sent me back in time two days earlier.
“Don’t worry about me,” I screamed at AI as he lifted me from the hole in the cake. “Stop Professor Brain-Drain! He’s going to transport all Superopolis sixty-five million years back in time!”
“I’m not going to suffer another twenty-five years of guilt over you,” said AI as he, in the way only he could, performed a heroic rescue for the absolutely most selfish of reasons. “The league can take care of Brain-Drain.”
If only that were true. As AI lowered me to the ground, I watched six members of the League of Ultimate Goodness go into battle with the five hippies plus the six duplicates of SkyDiamond. They were overcome in a matter of seconds. Most of the other adults created a protective barrier between the kids from my school and the villains up on the stage. But not all the parents. One group of heroes saw their chance and sprang into action—the New New Crusaders!
“Dad!” I hollered. “Stop the machine! You can’t let it reach its top speed.”
But how could he stop it? I asked myself. I had just witnessed another group of heroes attempt the same thing twenty-five years in the past, and they had failed. And I no longer had the jet pack that might have allowed me to steal the meteorite
yet again. This situation was not looking good.
Sure enough, the Big Bouncer hurled himself at the Time Tipler . . . and bounced right off it. The electromagnetic barrier was beginning to form, and there was no way to get at the machine. Windbag had taken a deep breath, but all he was succeeding in doing was blowing the entire League of Ultimate Goodness and a handful of hippies off the stage. Meanwhile, the Amazing Indestructo had managed to swoop in close enough to grab Professor Brain-Drain, but he didn’t even seem to mind. He just kept cackling as if he had pulled off the biggest evil scheme of his career—and he might just have been right.
The Time Tipler had become a blur, and I looked up just in time to see the cones begin to tip. A moment later a flash of energy erupted from the tower and spread out in all directions as far as I could see. It was a blast of power that dwarfed the tiny burst my rock had generated when it had sent me back in time.
As soon as the concussion had passed, I looked up, and to my amazement and distress, realized that the entire range of the Carbunkle Mountains had vanished. But that wasn’t nearly as frightening as the pack of dinosaurs that had suddenly appeared in our midst, who were looking at us as if dinner had just been delivered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The Return of the League of Goodness
A velociraptor had already locked its eyes on me and stalked my way with cool detachment. Then, out of nowhere, a cloud of bees descended from the air and surrounded the dinosaur’s head. I glanced around and saw swarms of bees surrounding all the dinosaurs. It didn’t take a genius to know where they had come from.
A moment later, the Bee Lady came putt-putting her way up one of Telomere Park’s cement pathways, which, like everything else, had been transported back in time along with us. Right behind her was Lord Pincushion and the Animator. But it was the army with them that really got my attention. Marching in ranks behind the Animator were dozens of empty suits of armor that I recognized from the halls of Pinprick Manor. Just as the bees began to tire, the disembodied knights took over and began battling the dinosaurs, who found their sharp teeth useless against the metal.