by Barry Lyga
“Work on Ultitron continues apace. However, the Mad Mask has come to realize that — despite his inimitable genius and impeccable design skills — the process could be accelerated with the addition of a similar, though inferior, intellect. Consequently, the Mad Mask invites you to act as sous chef to his masterpiece!”
Kyle brushed aside the insult. “So you need my help to finish your robot, is what you’re saying.”
The Mad Mask bristled. “The Mad Mask has said and will say no such thing! The Mad Mask has graciously and magnanimously decided to extend to you the honor of assisting in the completion of the mighty Ultitron! In exchange for your time and efforts, the Mad Mask will set Ultitron upon your enemy.”
Kyle’s eyes widened. Had he heard that correctly? All he had to do was help this guy finish his robot … and then they would send the robot after Mighty Mike?
He thought about that powerful force field, so strong that it had hurt even him. If it could hurt Kyle, then wasn’t there a chance that it could hurt Mighty Mike, too? After all, Mike’s powers were from the same power source as Kyle’s — the plasma storm.
And then there was the fact that the Mad Mask had cracked Kyle’s electronic lock, which had over a trillion possible combinations. That should have been impossible.
Anyone with that kind of smarts … with that kind of powerful technology …
A slow expression of absolute joy spread over Kyle’s face under his ski mask as he imagined Mighty Mike getting the stuffing pounded out of him by this “Ultitron” thing. Preferably while Mairi watched and realized her hero wasn’t all he was cracked up to be.
“You’ve got a deal,” Kyle said. “We’ll finish Ultitron together and then I get to use it to kick Mighty Mike off the planet.”
The Mad Mask approached Kyle. With that mask in place, Kyle couldn’t see even the slightest hint of a facial expression. He had no idea what the Mad Mask was thinking.
And then the Mad Mask extended one gloved hand. “We have an accord, then!”
As they shook on it, the Mad Mask’s voice suddenly dropped and became a little shaky. “So, uh, how old are you, anyway?”
“Twelve,” Kyle told him.
“Twelve!” The voice was back to full boom. “The Mad Mask is fourteen! Thus, the Mad Mask shall be in charge!”
“Well, that’s fine. It’s your robot, after all.”
“It is, indeed, the Mad Mask’s robot!”
They stood there for a moment, hands still clasped, saying nothing.
“So, uh, what do we do now?” Kyle asked.
“The Mad Mask will prepare his facilities for you! We will meet at noon on the morrow … there!” He pointed with his free hand to the Bouring Lighthouse, barely visible in the distance through the tree branches.
“Okay, fine.” Kyle extricated himself from the Mad Mask’s grasp. “Great. I’ll see you there tomorrow.”
“On the morrow!” the Mad Mask bellowed.
“Right. Got it.”
More silence. More staring at each other.
Kyle realized that the Mad Mask was waiting for him to leave. He can’t fly! And he doesn’t want me to watch him walk away.
“See you tomorrow,” Kyle said, and launched himself skyward. He stopped just before clearing the treetops and entering the open air. Still concealed, he checked his costume thoroughly. There was only the one bug. He held it between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, admiring its compact design.
Then he rotated in midair, looking for the Mad Mask. He would follow from the sky, tracking the Mad Mask back to wherever he’d come from. No one could just barge in on Kyle’s life like this without …
But the Mad Mask was nowhere to be seen. He was gone in the few moments Kyle had been distracted by the bug.
Kyle grunted in disappointment, then crushed the bug into powder and let the particles drift away on the breeze.
When he flew back in through the window, both Erasmus and Lefty went berserk. Lefty was the easier of the two to handle — Kyle stroked the rabbit’s head, scratched behind his ears, and then dropped a yogurt treat into the cage.
“What happened?” Erasmus asked. If the AI had needed to breathe, Kyle would have said Erasmus sounded breathless.
“It was … strange,” Kyle said. He told Erasmus what had happened and what he’d agreed to do.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day when Kyle Camden would work for somebody,” Erasmus said with a note of snobbery.
“First of all, you’re not really alive. Second of all, you can’t see anything because you don’t have eyes.”
“Don’t try to distract me with petty details.”
Kyle closed his window, got back into his pajamas, and lay down in bed. “I don’t know, Erasmus. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what he was capable of. He cracked the electronic lock. That should have taken a couple thousand years.”
“So he got lucky.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right. But if that’s the case … Heck, Erasmus — I think I could stand to get a little bit of that kind of luck. Don’t you?”
And to that, Erasmus had nothing to say.
I’m so excited I can’t sleep. And I’m having a little trouble holding the pen to write this, too!
For the first time since I gained my powers, I have an ally. An actual ally!
(Erasmus doesn’t count because I built and programmed him. He has no choice — he has to work with me.)
I know it’s only been a few weeks since Mighty Mike was revealed to the world, but it’s felt like years, with everyone praising him and celebrating him and — ugh — loving him. There are even some kids at school who have started wearing capes again, and one of Mom’s idiotic fashion shows on TV says that “the summer collection” (whatever that is) will probably “feature lots of draped fabric.” In other words — capes!
(And, yes, I realize that the Azure Avenger wears a cape. That’s to dissuade people from associating me with the Azure Avenger. Since I would never be caught dead wearing a cape, I couldn’t possibly be the Azure Avenger. See?)
Now, out of nowhere, comes the Mad Mask.
I realize he has an … interesting way of talking, but …
(Oh, who am I kidding? He’s annoying as heck when he talks!)
But the thing is, he’s obviously a genius. To be able to plant a tracking device on me … To be able to open the electronic lock … Yes, he has his quirks, but he’s finally someone I can work with.
More important than that, though … He’s someone who believes in me.
He offered up his “Ultitron” (I can’t wait to see this thing!) without hesitation, without worry. He understands that Mighty Mike needs to be booted off the planet, and if Ultitron’s boots are big enough to do it, then great! I can’t afford to be picky in my choice of allies. The Mad Mask wants to help me achieve my dream, and all I need to do is help him achieve his dream.
Sounds good to me.
I just realized, though: What is the Mad Mask’s dream? I’ll have to ask him.
And in the meantime, I’ve got Erasmus thinking about ways to crack that force field. It’s one thing to trust an ally. It’s another thing to trust an ally who can hurt you.
Kyle dragged himself out of bed Sunday morning, barely able to pry his eyes open. He had amazing powers, true, but he still needed to sleep, and last night’s shenanigans with the Mad Mask had zapped his sleep time down to almost nil.
In the kitchen, his parents were bustling about as usual, blabbering to each other while the kitchen TV showed an extended series of film clips of Mighty Mike: Mike hauling a damaged sub out of the ocean. Mike putting out a forest fire. Mike petting a dog. In each clip, Kyle saw mistakes Mike made — a potential radiation leak left unsealed on the sub, embers blowing in the breeze at the forest fire. Even the dog looked a little annoyed that Mike was just rubbing his one ear over and over again.
Mike did these huge good deeds and everyone was happy, but no one ever noticed that a lot of ti
mes he also made mistakes. Or if they did notice, they were so impressed with him anyway that they didn’t care. That was wrong. And stupid. And wrong again. It annoyed Kyle, even when he wasn’t tired.
He slumped into a chair at the table and stared at Dad’s ginormous coffee cup. It was as big as a soup bowl and had SUPERCHARGED! written on it in big block letters.
“Can I have some coffee?” Kyle asked.
His parents stopped chattering to each other. Mom, standing by the toaster, blinked slowly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Which was moronic because Kyle had said something. She should have been not believing her ears, not her eyes.
“Coffee’s for grown-ups,” Mom chirped.
“Yeah, slugger,” Dad agreed, hoisting his cup and wincing a bit at the weight. “Kids don’t need a pick-me-up.” He guzzled.
“I didn’t sleep well,” Kyle said. “I want to wake up.”
“You’re only eleven …” Dad started.
“I’m twelve,” Kyle said.
“Really?” Dad looked at Mom as if she could somehow change the flow of time. Mom shrugged. “How — how long has that been going on?”
“Since my birthday, pretty much.”
“Huh!”
Saying — or, rather, grunting — “Huh!” like that was Kyle’s dad’s most common utterance. It had, as best Kyle could tell, roughly three dozen different meanings (at last count), running the gamut from “That’s fine” to “Leave me alone” to “Why, that is a most interesting and compelling fact, the likes of which I had previously been unaware.” In this specific instance, Kyle translated “Huh!” as meaning, “Wow, time sure flies when you’re busy watching TV and eating pizza bagels.”
“I guess it won’t hurt to let him try a little,” Mom said. “As long as it doesn’t become a regular thing.”
She poured a bit of coffee into a mug that was significantly smaller than Dad’s and offered it to him. Kyle inhaled the rich, dark aroma. He loved the smell of coffee and had often fantasized about this adult ritual.
He grinned as he saluted his parents with the mug. “Thanks, guys.” He took a big gulp of the stuff.
And spat it right back out into the mug!
Gross!
Mom laughed. Dad shook his head and turned to his newspaper.
Oh, disgusting! It was like drinking a cup of hot bilge. The stuff was bitter and strong. How could something that smelled so wonderful taste so awful? He added yet another item to his mental to-do list: Fix the flavor of coffee. Why hadn’t someone else handled this yet? People had been drinking coffee for over five hundred years (according to Wikipedia, which he had memorized awhile back), but no one noticed until Kyle took his first sip that it tasted terrible?
It was as though every day, in some small way, the universe wanted to remind Kyle that he was an intellectual titan living in a world of mental microbes.
“How can you drink this stuff?” Kyle asked, spitting again into his mug. Mom brought him a glass of juice and Kyle guzzled it in gratitude.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Mom admitted.
“Not for me!” Kyle said.
After a quick breakfast, he went into the living room, where the materials for his project with Mairi were stacked on the coffee table. Seeing the pile depressed Kyle for two reasons. First of all, it was a ridiculous experiment — he could easily figure out in his head if crayon color affected how long a crayon lasted. He didn’t need a fancy experiment to deduce wax retention based on pigmentation. Second of all, it reminded him that his best friend was, slowly, slipping away.
At first, Kyle had thought that it would be fun to live a double life. His activities as the Azure Avenger, the existence of Erasmus … These were his deepest secrets, the things that no one knew about him. He knew from his history of pulling pranks that having a secret was fun.
But this secret was time-consuming and exhausting. For the past several weeks, he’d been so focused on working to destroy Mighty Mike that he had neglected his “real life” as Kyle Camden. There was actually a period of three days in a row where he hadn’t spoken to Mairi at all. Unheard of!
Just then, the doorbell rang, cutting off Kyle’s moping. He ran to the door and smiled a huge, broad smile when he saw Mairi standing there. It was only fall, but it was a supercold fall, so Mairi looked like she was ready for winter, bundled up in her white puffy coat, her red hair a flaming ring around her face.
“Hey, Kyle!”
It was like the universe decided to cut him a break.
“I figured I’d come over and we could keep working on the science project. Is now a good time?”
“Sure,” Kyle said, stepping aside to let her in. “It’s …”
He broke off as something caught his eye outside. Off in the distance, the Bouring Lighthouse rose stark and alone on the horizon, the highest point in or around Bouring.
“On the morrow …”
Kyle checked the time. It was almost noon.
“Kyle?” Mairi was inside now, staring at him as he stood at the open door. “Are you coming in, too?”
“Yeah, yeah, I, uh …” His mind whirled, looking for some excuse that could get rid of Mairi, but he couldn’t think of anything.
“I forgot — I have something I have to do today,” he blurted out. “Right now,” he added.
“What? Can I help?”
Kyle briefly imagined himself and the Mad Mask poring over the innards of Ultitron, with Mairi in the background, offering to bring over a wrench or a soldering iron.
“Um, no. I have to do it alone.”
Mairi planted her fists on her hips, a stance Kyle knew all too well. “What’s so important that you have to go running off on a Sunday? Is it some silly prank?”
A prank! Of course! He couldn’t actually admit to it, but …
“I … don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyle said in a tone of voice that said he knew exactly what she was talking about, but just didn’t want to cop to it.
Mairi threw her hands up in the air and marched out the door. “I can’t believe you would rather waste your time on a prank than work on our project together!”
“Hey!” Kyle shouted after her before he could stop himself. “You’re the one who had to leave yesterday to go hang out with Mighty Mike!”
She spun around and glared at him. “I explained that.”
“We could have finished the whole thing then, but you had to go play with your boyfriend!”
Mairi stamped an angry foot. “I was ready to work on it before. You’re the one who bailed. And get it straight — he’s not my boyfriend!” And she turned and stormed off before he could say anything else.
Kyle raced up the stairs. He paused at the hallway window and looked out — he could see Mairi going up the street to her house, her pace quickened by her anger. He hated making Mairi angry at him. It was pretty much the worst thing he’d ever done in his life, and now it seemed like he was doing it all the time. But he had no choice. He couldn’t tell her the truth. For one thing, Mairi unfortunately believed the popular lie that the “Blue Freak” was some kind of villain. And for another thing, it wouldn’t be right to burden her with the knowledge that Mighty Mike was an alien and that Kyle was the only person alive who could expose and destroy him. If Mike found out Mairi knew, who knew what he might do to her?
No, Kyle had to keep his secrets, no matter what it meant to his best friend.
Someday soon, after he and the Mad Mask finished Ultitron, he would be done with Mighty Mike. And then he and Mairi could go back to being friends, the way it was supposed to be.
It was too risky to fly in broad daylight, so Kyle walked to the lighthouse, his costume stuffed into his backpack, Erasmus in his pocket and talking through his new wireless earbuds. To anyone out on this crisp fall day, it would just look like he was out for a hike.
“Are you sure about this?” Erasmus asked. “Just walking right up to this guy? Can you really trust him?”
&n
bsp; “What are you, my mother?” Kyle retorted. “Besides, I’m pretty much indestructible.”
“You said that force field hurt you last night.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I attacked him. As long as I keep my hands off him, I’ll be fine.”
“If he can make a force field that can hurt you, what if he can make a weapon that can —”
“Get off my back!” Kyle exploded. A man walking on the other side of the street looked over at him curiously. Kyle grinned and waved to assure him everything was fine, then lowered his voice. “Look, he can’t fly, okay? Worst case scenario, I’ll just zoom away.”
“I’ll feel more secure when we figure out how to crack that force field,” Erasmus grumbled. “Just be careful around him. Remember the words of my namesake: ‘A good portion of speaking will consist in knowing how to lie.’”
“Got it,” Kyle said as they reached the lighthouse.
The Bouring Lighthouse reached up to the sky and even higher, it seemed. Kyle had flown around it one night and it didn’t seem large or imposing from up in the sky. Down here, though, it seemed as massive as it had when he’d first seen it as a young child.
He had to be careful not to be seen by Mrs. MacTaggert while he was here. Mairi’s mom was the keeper of the Bouring Lighthouse and curator of the Lighthouse Museum. No one knew why there was a lighthouse at the edge of Bouring, because the town was landlocked. There was no need for a lighthouse — no lakes or rivers. There wasn’t even a good-size stream anywhere nearby.
Kyle skirted the entrance to the lighthouse and went around back. He had spent many hours playing around the lighthouse with Mairi; he knew all of the secret hiding places. He found an old drainage ditch near a sewer outlet and quickly changed into his Azure Avenger costume, tucking Erasmus into a pouch on his belt.
“Well, here we go,” he said. He hid his backpack in some brush and slowly crept around the back of the lighthouse.
His heart thrummed wildly, racing with excitement. Kyle had never felt so close to his ultimate goal, to the destruction of Mighty Mike!
