“What happened to our powers?” shrieked Transparent Girl. “We’ve lost them just when we need them most to protect ourselves from all these crazy animals.”
“I don’t feel right,” protested the Spore, who, for the first time ever, had a healthy pink glow to his skin.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PEOPLE
NAME: Miss Marble. POWER: The ability to cast a paralyzing spell over living subjects. LIMITATIONS: Paralysis lasts only a few minutes. CAREER: A desire for low pay and little respect led her to teaching. CLASSIFICATION: Chronically annoyed.
“No one can hear me!” I barely heard the Banshee whimper.
“We’re all like Ordinary Boy,” Cannonball wailed. I knew he had meant that as an insult, but I actually enjoyed the howl of despair in his voice.
“Calm down, kids,” Miss Marble urged, despite no sense of calm in her own voice. “Someone is bound to figure out what is causing our loss of power and correct it soon. We just need to be patient. In the meantime, let’s try to concentrate on our lessons. Everybody take out your biology books and we’ll continue our discussion of the anatomy of the potato fungus.”
Only the Spore perked up at that suggestion.
“Miss Marble!” My hand shot up. “Could we talk about history instead this morning?”
“Again with the history,” she said. “Why would we discuss that? It’s already happened, so what’s the point?”
“Maybe if we knew something about past events, it might give us an idea today for solving this power crisis,” I proposed. For once nobody shouted my idea down.
“I don’t see how,” she said.
“Well, think about it,” I said. “Nobody seems to know how long Superopolis has even existed. When was it settled? And by whom? And did they have powers when they got here?”
“There he goes again, Miss Marble,” Transparent Girl said, pointing a finger at me. “Ordinary Boy is claiming that our powers aren’t an unchangeable part of us.”
“Your complaint would have more validity, Transparent Girl, if it weren’t for the fact that currently everyone’s power is very much a changeable part of who they are.” Miss Marble actually stuck up for me. “Like it or not, you have, in fact, become normal. Go on, Ordinary Boy.”
“That’s a perfect example!” I blurted out. “Take the word ‘normal.’ It means average. It’s used to describe something that is just like everything else. But here we are saying that people have turned ‘normal,’ as if that was the natural state. Why would we be using the word in that way unless at one time everyone really was normal? Take my own name for instance. I’m called ‘ordinary’ but there’s nobody else like me. I’m ordinary compared to whom?!”
“You’re ordinary compared to everybody!” Cannonball snorted. A week ago he would have gotten the laugh he expected from that line, but now nobody found it particularly funny.
“I see your point,” Miss Marble said as she considered the logic of what I had said. “But how would we even figure out what life was like for people over a hundred years ago? They’re all gone.”
“But they’ve left clues behind. Like the names that they gave to places,” I added, remembering my question from yesterday about Crater Hill. “And there must be physical things, too.”
“If a man-made item ith two hundred yearth old,” Melonhead spoke up, “it mutht mean that people were here two hundred yearth ago.”
“Melonhead is right,” I said, almost choking on the words. “So all we have to do is figure out what the oldest object is in Superopolis.”
Every kid in my class went silent and stared directly at Miss Marble.
“I’m not that old,” she blurted out in annoyance. “Think again.”
Everyone began shouting out suggestions.
“There’s a seven-year-old jar of tartar sauce in my refrigerator,” said the Spore as he licked his lips just thinking about it.
“My grandma has a fruitcake that she’s been setting out at holidays for twenty years,” volunteered Limber Lass.
“My dad just turned forty-three,” hollered the Quake.
For lack of any practical suggestions, everyone tried outdoing everybody else. They were coming up with increasingly older items—only none of them was useful.
The noise reached a peak as Transparent Girl attempted to top the whole class.
“The Carbunkle Mountains are sixty-five million years old,” she shouted, ignoring the fact that we were looking for something man-made. “We all saw how they got here.”
The arguments among my classmates continued to build and Miss Marble was just getting frustrated. Her power was gone, too, and she had no way to rein in the class. But I was no longer paying attention. I had just realized what the oldest thing in Superopolis actually was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
On the S.S. Befuddlement
“I still don’t see what you’re getting at,” Stench said as we left school at the end of the day. “What difference does it make knowing when Superopolis was settled?”
“And how would we find out, anyway?” Tadpole added.
“Well, it only stands to reason that the oldest manmade object in Superopolis has something to do with the first people here,” I explained. “And Transparent Girl gave me the clue I needed to figure out what that is.”
“How did she do that?” Hal asked, tilting his head in confusion.
“When she brought up the Carbunkle Mountains, she added that we all knew how they got here,” I said. “She meant the meteorite that created them, of course, but it made me wonder how did the people of Superopolis get here?”
“I don’t see—” Stench started to say.
“Yes, you do,” I corrected him. “You see it every time we go to the beach.”
They looked at me with blank expressions.
“The lighthouse on Hero’s Cape?” asked Stench.
“I’ve worked there a couple of times,” Halogen Boy agreed. “It is really old.”
“Yes, but not the oldest thing on the beach,” I corrected. “Whoever built the lighthouse first had to get here. And how would they have gotten here . . . ?”
“Probably by sea—” Plasma Girl started to say.
“The wreck of the S.S. Befuddlement!” Stench beat her to it.
The S.S. Befuddlement was an enormous ship that had run aground on the south shore of MegaManly Beach. It was a rocky part of the seashore, so most people never went anywhere near it. Even from a distance, though, it was easy to see how old it was. But it wasn’t until now that I realized the potential significance of its age.
“Exactly!” I beamed. “And we’re going to investigate it, to see what clues it may hold to the origin of Superopolis itself.”
“This isn’t going to be as dangerous as our visit to the Carlsbark Caverns, is it?” asked Plasma Girl. “With no powers, we’re going to have to be careful.”
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
THINGS
THE S.S. BEFUDDLEMENT
Despite the mystery of its origins, the wreck of this once-mighty sailing vessel, which sits along the southeastern shore of Superopolis Harbor, is seldom visited by the residents of Superopolis. If they were to take a look, they would find more questions raised than answered. So it’s probably good they don’t, since that kind of thing just annoys people.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “This should be perfectly safe—assuming we don’t run into a kangaroo with death-ray eye beams or something like that.”
I’m not completely sure I had put them at ease, but they followed me anyway through the lower Superopolis shopping area and then into the heart of the downtown office district. As we passed under the shadow of the Vertigo Building, I gave a small shudder at the thought that Professor Brain-Drain was still out there somewhere. He may not have his power, but he was still an evil genius.
We were soon on South Harbor Drive and followed it all the way out to where it came to an end at the ocean. Jogging down the sandy slopes and on
to the beach, we looped around to the left. As soon as we rounded an outcropping of dunes and grasses, we came upon the wreck of the S.S. Befuddlement.
“It’s as long as a football field!” Tadpole said with awe.
“And you were right about it being ancient,” Stench added.
It was an old ship. There was no denying that. Even the old fishing trawler that Cap’n Blowhole piloted looked modern in comparison. You could see that at one time the ship had had four enormous masts, but two of them were now long gone. This was a craft that had been powered by the wind alone. As we got closer, it became apparent that this ship had been sitting here for decades—possibly even centuries. The wood was decaying and there was an enormous hole torn into the side of it.
Cautiously I led my teammates up to the wide opening.
“Should we go inside?” I asked, turning to my friends.
“When have we ever not gone into a situation that looked potentially dangerous,” Plasma Girl said with a sigh as I stepped in through the gaping hole.
The first thing I noticed was the enormous holds in the lower level of the ship. It was clear that this ship had carried an awful lot of something.
“There are some steps over here,” Halogen Boy called out. “They go up into the ship.”
We all went over to where Hal was standing and inspected the stairs. They looked pretty solid, but I carefully made my way to the top before motioning my teammates to follow. While I waited for them, I inspected this new level of the ship. I was in a large open area with blackboards on the walls, display cases mounted on counters, and work tables littered with shards of glass. And then I thought I heard someone step on a piece of glass farther ahead in the darkness.
“What is this place?” Plasma Girl asked as she came up behind and spooked me.
“It looks like a laboratory that no one has used for a couple hundred years,” I answered, deciding she must have made the noise. “But why would a ship have a laboratory?”
“And what was kept in those holds?” Stench added. He, Hal, and Tadpole had just joined us.
“What else is on this ship?” I asked no one in particular as I continued our exploration.
We soon found another stairway and made our way up it. This took us to a level of cabins. There were hundreds of them.
The interior of the ship was in far better shape than the exterior, and we continued to find stairwells. Making our way up another three levels, we at last found ourselves on the deck of the ship. This of course had been fully exposed to the elements and was in horrible condition. We were incredibly careful as we made our way across it toward a large cabin at the stern of the ship.
I hadn’t taken more than a half dozen steps toward it when my foot plunged through a rotten board.
“Help!!” I yelled as I frantically grabbed hold of another plank to keep from falling to the deck below. “But be careful.”
As Tadpole inched his way toward me, I glanced down into the space below me. I heard a quiet creak and then I swear I saw a figure darting into the shadows.
“You gotta watch your step, O Boy,” Tadpole said as he hauled me to my feet. “This place is a disaster.”
I didn’t even know how to respond, I was so distracted by what I thought I had seen. Despite lots more creaking boards and a couple other close calls, we slowly made our way to the door of the cabin. Swinging it open, we found the faded remnants of what must have at one time been a spectacular home for the captain of this ship. Even rotted as it was, the wood inside still had a lingering richness to it. Shards of glimmering colored glass remained in half the windows. Everything else appeared to have been stripped from the room, with the exception of an enormous mahogany desk that sat in the center. Moving behind it, I reached for the desk’s center drawer and gave it a tug. At first it didn’t budge, and I tried again with more force. This time it jerked open with a loud, wood-against-wood scraping sound. Sitting inside the drawer was a single book.
“What is it?” Plasma Girl asked eagerly.
“It appears to be the ship’s log,” I answered as I flipped it open.
“It looks like a book to me,” Hal said.
“A ship’s log is a book,” I explained as I carefully turned the pages. “It records all the details of a ship’s voyage, including its cargo.”
“What does it say?” Stench pressed me as I scanned the entries.
“It’s incredible,” I responded. “This ship had everything. Hundreds of species of plants and animals, and—”
“And what?” Tadpole pressed as I paused in astonishment.
“Potatoes,” I finally replied. “Tons and tons of potatoes.”
That was baffling enough, but then I flipped to a page that included a passenger list and my eyes went wide with shock.
“What do you see?” Plasma Girl insisted. “Tell us!”
“It’s the passengers on the ship,” I explained. “But the names are unlike any I’ve ever seen. They all have two, or sometimes even three names—and none of them indicate what these people’s powers were.”
And then I saw a name I recognized. My friends all caught the shock that spread across my face.
“What is it?” Plasma Girl pressed. “Whose name do you see?”
“It’s someone I never even thought existed.” I swallowed. “But here it is, plain as day—Dr. Ambrose . . . Telomere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A New Candidate
“But I didn’t think there was a Dr. Telomere,” Halogen Boy said in confusion as we left the ship.
“I didn’t either,” I said. “Even my dad always insisted he was just a made-up advertising character.”
“That ship is ancient,” added Plasma Girl. “Even if there was a Dr. Telomere, he’s long gone now.”
As we went on and on about what we had found, we climbed back up the dunes and hills until we reached the street. Once there, we couldn’t help but notice the large crowds of people, all headed toward nearby Tremor Park. Tremor Park wasn’t as vast as Telomere Park, and it didn’t have the attraction of a live volcano like Lava Park, but it did have a feature neither of those could claim. Just take a look at its entry in the Li’l Hero’s Handbook and you’ll see what I mean.
LI’L HERO’S HANDBOOK
PLACES
TREMOR PARK
From its scenic perch overlooking the Ornery Ocean, Tremor Park provides some of the city’s most stunning views. But it gets its name from its most startling feature. Without warning, seismic shocks regularly roll through the park, often with amusing results. Picnickers are warned that they may end up with more of their lunches on them than in them.
It was against this scenic backdrop that Mayor Whitewash had chosen to hold his latest campaign rally. What had looked to be another uncontested victory for the mayor had now turned into a real race. The carved pumpkin he had faced a week earlier at his debate was now polling almost even with him.
“Thank you all for coming, fellow Superopolopo-lites,” he announced with an air of desperation that only a man tied in popularity with a giant gourd could muster. “I know that everyone is upset about these sudden attacks by superpowered animals.”
“And what exactly are you doing about it?” shouted a man wearing a fez and a bathrobe.
“And more important, what are you doing about our vanished powers?” hollered a woman wearing a green leotard with six empty, floppy sleeves.
“Trust me, Madam Octopus,” the mayor insisted, “I’m doing everything in my power to solve this mystery.”
But that was the problem. Mayor Whitewash’s power was long gone. As we had seen at the zoo, no one was buying a word he was saying—a dangerous development for any politician.
“This is obviously the work of some unspeakable villain,” he continued, “and I won’t rest until we bring this scoundrel to justice and reverse these disturbing effects.”
“Perhaps it takes a villain to catch a villain,” an unmistakable voice boomed out of nowhere.
<
br /> My team and I recognized it instantly, but before we could react, the ground itself began to buckle and shake. This wasn’t one of Tremor Park’s usual hiccups, though. Suddenly, the grassy area in front of the mayor’s podium collapsed in on itself creating a gaping hole. The crowd screamed in panic as a swarm of metallic creatures emerged from the earth. With them they brought the sinister figure of Professor Brain-Drain.
“You’ve failed, Mayor,” he stated as he stepped off the Crush-stacean that was carrying him. The metal creatures surrounded the stage as Professor BrainDrain made his way onto it, a single finger wagging accusingly. “And now it’s time for you to pay the price.”
The audience gasped as Professor Brain-Drain pressed his finger against Mayor Whitewash’s forehead. The mayor let out a remarkably undignified scream, but then fell silent. As the Professor lowered his finger, I could see from the baffled look on Mayor Whitewash’s face that he had just gone through the same experience I had in the Carlsbark Caverns. Only this time Professor Brain-Drain was purposely playing up the result.
“That’s right,” the villain said to the startled crowd.
“I, too, have lost my power. Whatever has caused this great powers outage has affected me as well.”
He looked directly at me and smirked, clearly pleased that he had created an excuse for his own powerlessness before I could reveal it myself.
“So the question I have for you is a simple one,” he continued. “Do you want a mayor whose only talent up to now has been the ability to convince you all to overlook his shortcomings and incompetence? Or do you want a mayor who will solve the mystery of our missing powers?”
If the audience looked confused, it was nothing compared to the look of surprise on Mayor Whitewash’s face.
“What are you saying?” he began to splutter.
The Great Powers Outage Page 12
