by Jess Keating
Gauze bandages, sterile alcohol wipes, and stacks of snow-white bleached sheets and towels towered over us on the metal shelves, along with IV poles, breathing tubes, surgical tape, disinfectants, and plastic IV bags.
There was something fitting about trying to steal a world-saving antidote in a hospital, but I could do without the bedpans brushing up against my earlobe.
“Focus, everyone!” Grace hissed. She braced herself against the wall, shoving the shelf beside her slightly to give her some more breathing room. “This should be quick and painless. Nikki, are you ready with Frog?”
Frog, of course, was what Arthur and I had named the robot that would fire the tranquilizer once Victor’s associate was in the elevator.
“Yes,” I said. I patted the leather bag strapped to my shoulder. “Once Leo has control of the elevator, I’ll get Frog into the elevator shaft. Then all we need is for Charlie to do her job and make sure the buyer gets into the right elevator, alone.”
“I’m on it!” Charlie saluted me, accidentally smacking Arthur in the temple with her outstretched elbow.
“Watch it!” he cried, rubbing his eye.
“Perfect,” Grace said. “Nikki, take Mary with you in case she needs to provide a diversion while you’re getting into position.”
Mary lifted her chin fiercely. “I’ll make sure she gets there.”
Grace continued her instructions. “Arthur and Bert, you follow behind, but not too closely. You’re on lookout. Thanks to Arthur, we’ve got a solid photo to use to identify Victor. Keep an eye out for the MI6 agents, too. Pretend you’re here to see a relative and that you’re waiting for visiting hours to begin. Take these.” She passed them two comic books. “If anyone looks at you suspiciously, start reading.”
“Got it,” Bert said. “Arthur, this is called a comic book. Probably not nearly as fancy as the classic literature that you read in that castle, but you might find you enjoy it. This one’s about a superhero who saves the world in his underwear.”
“Actually, Bert,” Arthur said, taking the pages from his hands, “I happen to love comic books. Research indicates that superior intellects benefit from the combination of both visual and textual information. Though I’m glad I get to wear more than just underwear on this mission,” he added quickly.
“Oh boy,” Charlie said. “Here they go again. The battle of wits, a never-ending saga by Bert and Arthur …”
“Hard to have a battle of wits when both are unarmed,” Mary snapped.
“Oh! And there’s Mary with the knockout!” Mo jeered, gleefully smacking his meaty fist into his open palm.
“Bert!” Grace scolded. “I’ve warned you once already! We need everyone to be at the top of their game today! No petty arguments. Both of you should know better! We’re trying to stop people from getting sick and dying, remember?!”
“Yes, Grace,” both Arthur and Bert intoned solemnly.
“Good!” Grace said, giving a stiff nod. She affixed one of my GeckoDots to her earlobe and gave it a tap so we would all be connected.
“Now everyone get going. Keep us updated on where you are. Leo, Mo, and I will stay here and get the elevator under control. When you’ve got our signal, you three get Nikki into position with Frog.” She pointed at Bert, Arthur, and Mary.
“Do we go on three?” Arthur asked.
I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You know,” he said, “like everyone puts their hands in and we do a little one, two, three, go team or something? Isn’t that what you do when you’re about to tackle a big mission?”
Charlie grunted and wedged herself closer to the door of the closet, edging it open. A slice of light from the hospital hallway cut through the room, splitting us in half. “We’re not that kind of team,” she said.
Mary gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’re more of a ‘charge forward and hope for the best when everything goes wrong’ kind of team.”
“Hope? Is that the best strategy at a time like this?” Arthur’s eyebrows lifted.
“Hey, we’re still here, aren’t we?” Bert clapped him on the back. “Let’s go, buddy. Unless you’re too scared?”
Arthur stood taller, puffing up his chest. “Not at all, Albert. I’m ready.”
“I swear, Nikki and Grace could have had Frog planted by now,” Charlie groaned, eyeing Grace mischievously. “Do we even need these guys?”
“Hey!” Leo huffed. “Mo and I aren’t arguing! Are we, dude?”
Mo’s cheeks lifted as he reached over to squeeze Leo’s shoulder. “Nope,” he said. “I think you’re a delight.”
Grace bit back her smile. “We are a team, Charlie,” she said in her best Martha impression. “We are all equally important, lending our strengths in diverse ways. On one …” She stuck her hand out.
We all shuffled in annoyance to get our hands in place for our newly minted cheer.
“Two, three … Go team!” we whispered in unison.
“You have to admit, it’s much more fun that way,” Arthur said, squeezing by Mo to follow me, Mary, Bert, and Charlie out into the hallway.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warned him. “The fun’s just starting.”
Sticking close to the wall, the five of us moved quickly on our tiptoes toward the elevator bank.
I couldn’t pinpoint the expansive feeling of warmth in my chest until I noticed our shadows grouped on the floor, passing over the linoleum like sneaky spirits.
All the other people in the world were walking around, living their lives, completely unaware that a mad scientist could release a lethal virus at any moment. I was worried about them, of course. Everyone deserved to be protected.
But it was the thought of losing my friends—my family—to something so awful that kept me moving that morning. Despite all their bickering, they still found time to take care of one another.
I could only hope I was moving toward a successful mission and not a dismal failure.
“Grace,” I whispered into my GeckoDot. “How’s that elevator coming?”
I peered out from the basket of laundry on wheels that Charlie had stashed me and Frog in. Arthur and Bert were fake-reading in the ward’s waiting area, and Mary had stayed tucked silently in the corner of the room, pretending to write something in a journal.
There was a faint rustle, then Grace spoke. “We’re having a bit of an issue.”
I scrunched my nose and shifted the towels above me, grappling for some fresh air. “What kind of an issue?”
“Er …” Grace responded. “It’s the laptop …”
“Hold on, Nikki!” Mary said. My stomach lurched violently as the wheels of the laundry cart groaned and creaked underneath me. Wherever Mary was taking me, she moved fast. “Boys! Follow me!”
Quick footsteps and the squeak of sneakers followed us, and a dull thud made my whole body shake. A loud click followed, and finally, Mary’s voice. “We’re in the clear, Nikki. You can come out now.”
I sprang from the laundry cart, flinging white sheets and thin towels into the air. “What’s going on?!” I asked, whirling around. “Where are we?”
Sinks, urinals, and toilet stalls surrounded us, along with the faint whiff of industrial cleaner in the air.
“Oh, delightful,” I said. “From a supply closet to a hamper to a bathroom. This day is full of surprises. What’s the matter?”
“You heard Grace,” Mary said through tight lips. “Leo’s having a problem with the laptop.” She glanced nervously at Arthur, who stood next to her, wringing his hands. He looked guilty.
“Well, he should be able to figure that out easily enough,” I said. I set my hands on my hips. “Are you almost done, Leo?”
Mary and Arthur exchanged glances. Something wasn’t right.
“Um …” Leo said. “It’s not that simple. I need an outlet, but they’re all near the nurses’ station, so …”
Heat began to warm my cheeks. An outlet?
I turned to Arthur. “Did you
…” I said, blinking fast. “Did you not charge the laptops, Arthur?”
One look at his creased eyebrows told me how badly he felt, and immediately, I regretted my tone. Any one of us could have made the mistake.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I did, I swear! But I think my older tech loses its charge a little faster than I realized, and … I guess I didn’t leave them charging for long enough …” Arthur’s cheeks burned red.
“It’s okay, Artie,” Mary said. “We can figure something else out.” Her pinched expression didn’t give me a lot of confidence.
Grace’s voice in my ear confirmed my worst fears. “It’s not looking good.” Without Leo’s laptop, we wouldn’t be able to control the elevators … or nab the antidote.
It’s seriously awful when plans go wrong. But it’s even worse when they go wrong before you can even begin to implement them. A sudden flash of the pictures on Martha’s phone during our first meeting blipped through my mind. People getting sick—dying, even, with nobody to protect them.
I imagined the airborne virus spreading around the earth. If my parents had stayed in Costa Rica after I had taken off, it might not reach them for a couple of days. But as travelers took to the skies, how long before the virus made its way all around the world?
We couldn’t let a dead laptop stop us. Not even for a second.
“All right,” I said, shaking my head to clear the awful images. “Let me get Frog going from here. We’re running out of time, and whenever we do figure out how to control the elevator, we’re going to need to be ready.” I lifted the leather pack from my shoulder and set it gingerly in the laundry basket to unload the robot.
“All I need to do is turn it on and then …” I adjusted Frog’s dart tube and pressed the small red button by his left foot.
Nothing.
“Um …” I said.
I hit the button again.
“What?” That was Charlie, following our actions from the hallway. “What is it, Nikki? Don’t tell me it’s not working either.”
Bert smacked his forehead with his palm. “It,” he exclaimed, “is yet another failure! I can’t believe this! We’re toast now! Arthur, does any of your stuff last longer than an hour?!”
I bared my teeth at Frog, ignoring the others. I absolutely refused to have two faulty pieces of tech ruin us before our plan got off the ground.
“Come on,” I whispered to the robot. I smacked Frog’s side, hoping a little percussive maintenance would spark it back to life. Something—anything—to indicate I could get it back working in time to use it. Arthur knelt beside me on the ground.
“Here.” He reached out gently. “Let me?”
I sat back on my heels, hopeful that he’d have some nineteenth-century magic to use on our ancient robot. He cracked open the base and inspected Frog’s insides. “This is the problem,” he said, tapping one of the copper connections. “The wires are delicate. I think it must have fractured during transport.”
The first threads of true panic started to worm their way into my chest.
“No,” I said. I grabbed Frog from his hands and did my best to reposition the broken piece. “This can’t be happening. It should be strong enough to withstand any little nudges in the pack.” Setting the robot down again, I bargained with the universe to give us one little win this morning.
But when I pushed Frog’s on button again, there was still no flicker behind the robotic blue eyes.
I set the robot back into the laundry cart and wiped my hands on my jeans. Shaking my head at Mary, I made the call out loud so Grace could hear it. “It’s no good,” I said, resigned. “Frog’s dead.”
A shameful swell of fear constricted my throat.
Bert’s freckles disappeared in the blush of his angry red face. Frog’s death was a major blow to our plan. And Bert wasn’t about to let Arthur off the hook for it.
“Without the laptop, we can’t stop the elevator. Without Frog, we can’t tranquilize the buyer or grab the antidote. Do you have any tech that works, Artie? Or was all of it built in the 1850s … and absolutely useless?!”
Arthur sniffed. “Well, if you hadn’t been so preoccupied with bad-mouthing me at every turn, maybe you would have noticed that we’d been draining the batteries a little too much, and you could have offered some suggestions. It’s not my fault that you weren’t able to bring some of your own tech with you on this little adventure of yours!”
“Sure!” Bert yelled. “And if you’d leave your precious castle every so often, you’d know that modern devices like laptops need to be charged with something called electricity! You should try it sometime. It might liven up that old dump you live in. No wonder Frog died—it’s as old as that ugly moth-eaten lump you call a sweater!”
Artie’s nostrils flared. Apparently insulting his old-man sweater was a step too far. “You’re just jealous that Mary brought you all here to me because you’re completely useless at solving your own problems, Albert.”
“HA!” Bert’s laugh was shrill. “If she cared about you that much, then how come she never told any of us about you! Even her best friend!” Bert jabbed his finger at me.
“Whoa.” I leaped out of the way and held up Frog by my chest as a shield. “Don’t drag me into this!”
“Oh, like you aren’t thinking the same thing, Tesla!” Bert snapped.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Martha or Grace were in the bathroom with us. They’d know exactly how to stop this stupid bickering and get everyone’s spirits up again. But Grace was busy trying to wrangle Bert’s attention away from the anger that had gotten so intense he could barely listen. And Martha? I could only hope that those MI6 agents were treating her fairly in custody.
My biggest fear was playing out before my eyes.
And it wasn’t the end of the world.
What I was most afraid of, though I hadn’t realized until that very moment, was my team splintering apart. Genius Academy was self-destructing.
The government might have shut us down. But we were the ones letting our mission die. And in the chaos of the moment, with so many lives in the balance and evil villains chasing their victories, I had no way to stop it.
Luckily, someone else did.
“ENOUGH!” Mary erupted.
She threw her hand up to block Bert and Arthur from getting any closer. “Both of you! You’re acting like absolute idiots! Bert—it’s not Artie’s fault the laptop wasn’t charged fully and Frog died. Accidents happen, and he didn’t ask for us to bring him into our mission!”
“So much for deductive reasoning,” Bert muttered under his breath. Mary glared daggers at him.
“And you!” She whirled around to face Arthur, who leaped back so quickly, he nearly tripped over me. “It’s not Bert’s fault that we needed help. We lost our home! We didn’t come to you because we couldn’t do it on our own—we came here because time is running out, and I thought”—she jabbed him in the chest with her finger—“that you could put away your giant ego for five seconds to help someone other than yourself!”
An awkward wounded silence hung in the air. Both Bert and Arthur looked deflated.
Leo laughed easily in my ear, breaking the icy moment. “Cool! Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to our jobs.”
I smiled gratefully. We needed to get ourselves back on track, and fast.
“Leo’s right,” I jumped in. “There are eight of us, a set of elevators we can’t control, and a sedative dart we can’t administer. How do we get that antidote?”
An uncomfortable silence followed as the four of us in the bathroom stared at each other.
“Come on!” Mo joined me. “This is what we do! We solve problems! When was the last time something went easily, huh? Big whoop, our stuff died. So we find another way!”
Grace spoke next, her voice tinny over the GeckoDot. “We have to be able to stop the elevators. That’s the only confined space in the building where we can get the buyer alone without
too many variables. We cannot get caught, no matter what, because after our last escape, those agents won’t underestimate us again. Agent Donnelly and his friends could be anywhere.”
“If everything’s electronic,” Bert said, “then how can we control the elevators without a laptop? Even if we jam one of the motors somehow, we can’t do it without physically being there on the ground. Too easy to be caught.”
“We could try to access it from the hospital’s security desk?” Mo suggested.
“Too many witnesses,” Grace pointed out.
“This is why I prefer my way of working,” Arthur said, tucking a stray curl of hair behind his ear. “You call it old-school, but all these electronics are too easy to hijack! There’s no way to stop an elevator remotely these days without tech.”
“Well, for someone who doesn’t like it, you’ve sure got a lot of robots,” Bert mumbled. “Maybe that’s why none of them work when it matters.”
I gritted my teeth against Bert’s negativity, urging myself to think through the problem. We’d tried our usual approach—hacking the elevators and staying out of sight. What was left if that didn’t work? Was Arthur right? Was old-school a better way to get anything done? I didn’t think so. But maybe …
“That’s it!” I blurted. A fresh idea surprised me, zinging into my thoughts without notice. Excitement buzzed across my skin. “We don’t need to stop the elevator,” I said. I reached into my shoulder bag and dug around my ferret, searching for the solution I needed. “Sorry, Pickles, you can’t come out just yet.” She chattered back at me in anger.
Charlie answered. “Of course we need to stop the elevator. If we don’t, how are we going to arrange for the knockout drug to be administered?”
I shook my head. “We can still do the knockout,” I explained, still digging. I handed a pile of random items from the bag to Arthur, who watched me curiously. A bottle of water. Tissues. A pack of gum. A straw. Extra quarters.
“We wait until the antidote’s in the elevator as planned, and then one of us administers the drug!”
