The Great Powers Outage

by William Boniface

  But nothing more was growing, with the exception of Fuzz Boy’s anger and frustration. For a moment I was amused, but then I realized an enraged Fuzz Boy was even more dangerous. I needed out of here.

  “HEELLLLPP!” I shouted out from behind Fuzz Boy’s frantically gripping hands.

  “No one can hear you, little dude,” Zippy said. But he was wrong.

  Only a minute or two later a shadow fell across us. Fuzz Boy and I looked up to find a very angry Stench. My best friend didn’t even say a word. He just wound up his arm and punched Fuzz Boy so hard that the creep went flying into a stack of tires over eight feet away. Zippy freaked out and bolted for home. Even at his speed, though, he couldn’t evade a long, powerful tongue that shot out and encircled one of his feet. As it was whipped out from under him, he tripped and fell howling into a tangle of used TV antennas.

  “Are you okay?” Hal asked me as he helped me to my feet.

  “What did he do to me?” I asked in a panic as my hands went for my face. All I could feel, though, was stubble.

  “It’s just a five o’clock shadow,” Stench said. “It’s lucky we got here so fast.”

  “That’s just it,” I said, “you didn’t get here that fast. He was on top of me for three or four minutes. This was the best he could do.”

  “Fuzz Boy, too?” said Plasma Girl with alarm. “First Lobster Boy, then AI, and now Stench’s brother? Maybe this power loss is only happening to nasty people.”

  “That would be nice,” I said as I scratched at the uncomfortable whiskers, “except it happened to my mom and dad this morning. And don’t forget Mayor Whitewash.”

  “It happened to my mom, too,” Halogen Boy added with more than a hint of concern.

  “That’s just too freaky,” Tadpole said. “What’s causing this? And how do we stop it from affecting us?”

  “I think I know,” I announced. “And if I’m right, it’s time for us to pay a visit to the one person who can do something about it.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Hero Reviled

  “You’re saying that AI’s Pseudo-Chips could be what’s causing people to lose their powers,” Tadpole repeated as we walked toward downtown. Other than a run-in with a particularly slobbery camel, we had so far managed to avoid any dangerous animal encounters.

  “The Red Menace himself told us that they would be his tool for making everyone the same,” I reminded them. “At the time, I had no idea what he could have possibly meant by that, but now it all makes sense.”

  “It does?” asked Halogen Boy.

  “Think about it,” I said. “Has anything changed over the past week other than people’s constant consumption of these chips?”

  “No, everyone is eating them,” Stench pointed out. “Except us.”

  “Thanks to O Boy,” Halogen Boy added.

  “But that means everyone else is going to lose their powers,” Plasma Girl said.

  “Unless we get these phony chips off the market,” I concluded as we came to a stop outside our destination—Crania-Superiore Hospital. “And there’s only one person who can do that.”

  Passing through the front door, I led us right up to the main nurse’s station. A woman with surprisingly wide, vacant-looking eyes was sitting at the desk. I glanced at her nameplate.

  “Umm, Nurse Slaphappy?” I cleared my throat. “We’re looking for the Amazing Indestructo.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said cheerfully. “No children are allowed in the patients’ rooms.”

  This threw me for a moment, and I instinctively found my fingers tugging at my still-stubbly chin. Then an idea struck!

  “Well, clearly you didn’t notice”—I spoke again, this time in my deepest possible voice—“the whiskers on my face.”

  She stared at me blankly, absorbing what I had said.

  “Oh!” She brightened up and blinked her eyes. “Of course you can go in, sir. Room one sixty-five. It’s just down that hall.”

  “Wait here, guys,” I said with a big grin. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

  LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK

  PLACES

  CRANIA-SUPERIORE HOSPITAL

  Located on Hoity-Toity Row on the northern edge of Lava Park, CraniaSuperiore has become the city’s most financially successful hospital thanks to its exclusive focus on diseases of the rich. The hospital is named in honor of an unknown benefactor who has contributed enormous sums expressly for the study of the brain and its functions.

  I could tell my friends were annoyed as I left them behind in the lobby, but it would probably be in our best interest for me to do this on my own. Unfortunately, as I stepped into room 165, I saw that I had company anyway.

  “Great hoppin’ horny toads!” exclaimed Whistlin’ Dixie. “Why sure’n if it ain’t Ordinary Boy.”

  “Who let you in?” demanded the Tycoon, AI’s business partner.

  As unpleasant as it was to see him, it was the other person in the room that made my blood run cold—the Red Menace.

  “This midget looks familiar,” he said, his sinister eyes boring right through me.

  “That’s not a midget,” said the Tycoon. “It’s just a very annoying kid who always seems to know everything except what’s good for him.”

  “Ah, yes, it does appear to be the young boy who I chatted with on Wednesday,” observed the Red Menace. “But now he’s got a beard. Fifty years ago, before I went to prison, children tended to be clean shaven. Have things changed?”

  “That ain’t no beard.” Dixie laughed as she dropped to one knee to wipe my chin with her hanky. She jerked back in surprise when she found the hairs were real. “Sure’n if he hasn’t grown his self a set o whiskers!”

  “They’ll go away in about an hour,” I said to everyone, “just like your powers if you don’t take steps now to prevent it.”

  “What did he say about powers?” I heard a creaky voice from across the room. That was when I noticed the patient in the hospital bed. It was hard to recognize him beneath all the casts and bandages, but even in a weakened state I knew the voice of the Amazing Indestructo.

  “It’s true,” I said speaking directly to AI. “I think the Red Menace is using your Pseudo-Chips to drain everybody’s powers—including your own.”

  “Not my chips!” AI responded plaintively.

  “I notice you said you think that Pseudo-Chips might be causing this,” the Tycoon pointed out. “So the reality is that you don’t know it for a fact.”

  “Well, no,” I admitted, “but the link looks pretty strong.”

  “This here li’l buckaroo may jes’ be on to some-thin’,” said Dixie with concern. “Ah even hit ma self a wrong note this mornin’—in the show’r, no less!”

  “Mays, mights, possiblies,” the Tycoon said with a snort. “Until you have hard facts, we’re certainly not going to pull an item that’s bringing in more income for Indestructo Industries than all our past products combined.”

  “But what good is anything if you have to change your entire way of life to keep using it?” I asked. “Besides, there’s only one reason that people are eating these chips.”

  The Red Menace gave an evil leer as I turned to face him.

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “People buy them because they’re delicious. Don’t you agree?”

  I could tell that he was using his power on me, and somewhere in my subconscious I felt myself craving a canister of Amazing Indestructo Pseudo-Chips. But I knew the feeling was phony and shook myself free of it.

  “No I don’t,” I snapped back. “They’re tasteless and bland, and anyone who can think for themselves knows it.”

  The Red Menace’s face turned as red as his costume, but before he could say anything, a loud sobbing noise drifted through the room. We all turned to the Amazing Indestructo, who was blubbering like a baby.

  “H-h-he’s right!” he wailed uncontrollably. “Even I think they taste lousy.”

  “So take them off the market,” I appeal
ed directly to him. “For once do something for the right reason—even if it costs you some money.”

  “Money?” he said, his tears ceasing.

  The Tycoon saw his opening and went for it.

  “That’s right,” he said in the oiliest way possible. “If you take these chips off the market you’ll be sacrificing uncountable millions in profit. You don’t want to do that, do you?”

  “No.” AI shook his head vacantly. “I like money.”

  I couldn’t believe it. The Amazing Indestructo and the Tycoon weren’t even under the Red Menace’s control. It was their own greed that was driving their actions.

  “Is money so important to you that you’d give up the one thing that makes you unique among everyone else in Superopolis?” I asked AI in disbelief.

  “You mean my profile?” he said as he turned to show it to me. The huge welt on his nose had done nothing to improve it.

  “No!” I practically exploded. “Your power! Your indestructibility! What good is your money if you don’t have that?!”

  The Amazing Indestructo immediately began blubbering again.

  “It’s true. My power is the only thing that makes me special. Without it people will see that I’m just a two-bit phony.”

  “A rich two-bit phony,” the Tycoon corrected as he walked over to the hospital room’s door. “Nurse Slaphappy, we need your assistance for a moment.”

  AI continued to sob as Nurse Slaphappy came into the room. Just as I was wondering what her power might be, the nurse came to the side of the hospital bed and gave the sobbing Amazing Indestructo a solid whack across the face with her hand.

  Instead of reacting as most people would when getting slapped, AI began to grin and laugh. Nurse Slaphappy was well named.

  With his mood completely lifted, the Amazing Indestructo came up with a solution to this problem that only he could have concocted.

  “Wait a minute!” he lit up. “If I were to sell the kid the business, I can have my money and he can do what he wants with the chips. Everyone would win!”

  My mouth dropped open at the spinelessness of this hero who only a month ago I had idolized. A similar expression of outrage flashed across the Red Menace’s face as well, but I think for another reason—the thought that AI might actually sell the business to me. He shouldn’t have worried.

  “That’s it!” The Amazing Indestructo grinned as Nurse Slaphappy gave him another smack across the face. “The business is yours kid . . . and all for the bargain price of just one billion dollars.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Riches from the Sky

  “What do you mean he refused to stop selling them?” Plasma Girl asked with concern while she and my other teammates scrambled to keep up with me as I stormed out of the hospital.

  “He did offer to sell me the business, though—for one billion dollars.”

  “A billion dollars!!” they all said in astonishment.

  “We can’t even compete with Transparent Girl’s twenty-three-cent fish fund,” Tadpole said with annoyance.

  “I have a hundred and twenty dollars in my college fund,” Hal offered. “Is that close?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But thanks anyway, Hal.”

  “Why doesn’t he just stop selling the chips because it’s the right thing to do?” Stench asked in disgust.

  “Because he’s selfish and greedy,” I said by way of explanation.

  “How could anyone sacrifice his own power for profits?” Stench shook his head in amazement.

  “Because I didn’t have absolute proof that the chips are at fault, the Tycoon convinced him to do nothing.”

  “That’s stupid,” said Hal. “He could at least stop until we knew for sure.”

  “What really upsets me,” I admitted, “is that I don’t know for sure. It’s only a guess at the moment.”

  “People start eating the chips. Their powers go away. What more proof do you want?” snorted Tadpole.

  “On the surface, it sounds convincing,” I agreed, “but there’s no solid evidence. We still don’t know what causes people’s power in the first place, and without knowing that, it’s incredibly tricky to figure out what would prevent someone’s power from working.”

  “Maybe there’s something in the Pseudo-Chips that blocks people’s power,” Plasma Girl proposed.

  “There could be.” I shrugged. “But I’ve looked over the ingredients label. In spite of a dozen or so unpronounceable additives, the chips don’t contain anything that hasn’t been used in tons of other products.”

  “Speaking of food loaded with chemicals, I’m starving,” Stench announced. “Let’s head someplace where we can get something to eat.”

  “Should we go to Dinky Dogs?” Halogen Boy proposed.

  “No. I heard they were overrun by armadillos,” Tadpole said. “Let’s hit the Cavalcade of Candy, instead.”

  “Candy for lunch?!” Plasma Girl snapped, clearly appalled. “That’s disgusting!”

  We all stared at her blankly. Candy for lunch made perfect sense to the rest of us.

  “Oh fine.” She gave in as we turned and headed for a building shaped like a giant dollop of whipped cream. Kids of all ages were coming and going as we passed through the main entrance of the Cavalcade of Candy. We took a sharp right and made our way up the spiral pathway that ringed the interior of the hollow structure.

  We stopped for a moment to watch the Sugar Rush roller coaster whip by. It’s just one of the cool attractions inside the Cavalcade of Candy. Another was the complete model of Superopolis built entirely of candy. It’s spread out across the whole bottom floor of the place. After the coaster passed, I looked down at the three-dimensional map of the city just as a worker was adding a new detail. It was a model of the S.S. Befuddlement made entirely of Popsicle sticks. The worker, an old man with a neatly trimmed beard was carefully placing the ancient wrecked ship on the rock candy shore of MegaManly Beach. While I marveled at how accurate it was, my friends debated their lunch options.

  “Let’s eat at that new place on the fifth floor—La Dolce Deli,” Tadpole suggested. “I’ve heard their Marzi-Pan Pizza is fantastic.”

  “Can’t we go to the Peppermint Patio?” pleaded Plasma Girl. “They serve delicious peppermint tea!”

  She could tell from our expressions she wasn’t going to get far with that idea.

  “How about Mother Treacle’s Kandy Kitchen?” Stench suggested. “Their Peanut Butter Pot Pie in a milk chocolate crust is fantastic—and healthy! I’ve had dozens of them.”

  “Healthy?!” Plasma Girl shot back. “They’re probably the cause of you being the size you are.”

  Plasma Girl immediately realized she shouldn’t have made a comment like that. Stench was just big—he wasn’t fat. But, nevertheless, his expression fell like a butterscotch soufflé.

  “Maybe they have had an effect,” he mumbled into his chest.

  Cause and effect. There were those two words again. Suddenly an idea struck me as if I’d been hit by . . . well . . . a meteor.

  “You guys,” I said, turning to my other teammates as the excitement rose in my voice, “I think I know how we can come up with a billion dollars.”

  “It better not involve selling anything door-to-door,” Tadpole announced.

  “No,” I said. “In fact, it may have just dropped right out of the sky.”

  “Are you crazy?” asked Stench. “A billion dollars?”

  “Remember how I said that every effect has a cause? Well, just look at the Carbunkle Mountains down there,” I said pointing to the sculpted blocks of chocolate that represented the enormous mountain range encircling Superopolis.

  “We all saw how a meteor hit the surface of the planet with such force that it thrust up the entire Carbunkle range,” I pointed out.

  “No kidding!” Stench said, clearly impressed. “But what’s that got to do with getting us a billion dollars?”

  “A lot of times meteorites are made out of incredibly valuab
le materials,” I said. “They can be gold, they can be jewels, they can be copper or platinum or a combination of all of the above.”

  “Or they can just be made out of rock,” Tadpole pointed out.

  “What have we got to lose?” I asked. “Let’s check it out.”

  “But what happened to the meteorite?” Hal asked.

  “Just look,” I replied. “You can see the path the meteor must have taken. It clearly made impact first at the spot where Superopolis Harbor now lies.”

  “He’s right,” Tadpole agreed. “Look how round the harbor is.”

  “And then it plunged straight down where the Greenway sits now,” I continued. The Greenway was the tree-lined strip of land that separated the eastbound and westbound lanes of Colossal Way. “Along the way, the meteor barreled into the land, forcing the Carbunkle Mountains up and up and up.”

  “So it must have come to a stop at the base of the mountains,” concluded Plasma Girl.

  And there our eyes all came to rest on it—the smooth, sloping mound that sat smack in the middle of Telomere Park at the very base of the mountain range. It was a location we had become very familiar with over the past couple of weeks.

  “Crater Hill,” I muttered. “That’s it! Right below the water tower that Professor Brain-Drain had converted into his time machine. The meteorite is buried beneath Crater Hill.”

  I knew I was right, and my friends all nodded their heads.

  “I think we’ve found our treasure meteorite. We just have to go get it.”

  “But how, O Boy,” Tadpole asked. “It’s buried who knows how deep.”

  “It could take forever to dig down to it,” Plasma Girl agreed.

  “Who said anything about digging?” I said.

  With growing concern, my friends followed the direction of my eyes as they moved north along the base of the Carbunkle Mountains and finally came to rest on the entrance to the mysterious Carlsbark Caverns.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Land Beneath the Ground