The Great Powers Outage
Page 15
“Getting something that you’ve always thought you’ve wanted doesn’t necessarily mean things will work out the way you expect.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I thought that if I could discover what causes everybody’s power, it might help me discover mine. But even knowing that secret may not tell me anything about myself.”
“It may not,” Dr. Telomere agreed. “But what have you figured out about the source of power?”
“Well, at first I thought that the Red Menace had developed potato chips that took away people’s powers,” I explained, “but then I realized that it didn’t provide any kind of an answer as to where powers came from to begin with.”
“That’s correct.” He nodded.
“So then, when my friends and I discovered the giant prodigium meteorite buried beneath your water tower, it only seemed natural that it had to be having some kind of an effect.”
“So you concluded that radiation from the meteorite had caused everything,” Dr. Telomere hinted. “Very clever.”
“Only for a moment,” I replied. “Upon discovering the meteorite, I also discovered Professor Brain-Drain. He, too, believed it was the radiation’s effect on the water supply that was the cause. But the Professor himself proved otherwise by revealing that he, also, is without a power.”
“You don’t say?” Dr. Telomere nodded. “I’ve suspected that something wasn’t right with him. With the exception of his spectacular scheme a couple weeks ago, he’s been unusually quiet these past ten years. Where did your investigation lead you next?”
“Here, of course,” I answered. “It’s the potatoes, isn’t it?”
He merely stood there smiling at me with a glimmer in his eyes.
“If there’s one thing I’ve determined with certainty,” I pressed ahead, “it’s that you know the answer and can tell me if I’m right or wrong.”
Dr. Telomere didn’t say a word. At first I thought he was going to just ignore my accusation, but then he started chuckling.
“You’re right, my boy—and yet still wrong. The prodigium does indeed irradiate the water supply—and in this particular case the water I store in the tower atop Crater Hill. I use that water to irrigate the vast fields that grow my potatoes. But the potatoes themselves do nothing—until the final step.”
He glanced away, his eyes darting around to the assembly-line process taking place all around us—the potatoes being peeled and sliced, the slices dropping into the oil. . . .
“It’s the oil!” I blurted out, more as a statement than a question. “Or more precisely, the heat! Frying the potatoes causes the change. It’s the potato chips, not the potatoes themselves that are the cause!”
“Bingo!” Dr. Telomere exclaimed. “The water subtly alters the makeup of the Cow Pie Golds, and the heat causes a molecular change in them. In the process, a previously unknown chemical—which I’ve dubbed superose—is produced. It’s the superose that causes powers to develop. I discovered the unusual side effect of my chips totally by accident after I began selling them. It took years of additional experimenting before I figured out the entire chain of events that led to this unique result. You, lad, figured it out in mere days.”
“The clues were all there.” I blushed.
“Yes. The clues are all there for everyone”—he nodded solemnly—“but other than me, only you put them all together and came up with the answer.”
“Why has no one else ever tried?” I asked perplexed. “Why wouldn’t people want to know?”
“People in general are remarkably incurious, and the citizens of Superopolis are particularly so,” he replied. “I suppose it makes life easier not to question anything around them. Unfortunately, that also makes them less intelligent. After all, you can’t become smarter if you have no interest in learning the answers to questions.”
“Not everyone lacks curiosity,” I reminded him.
“Very true,” he agreed. “All of the Lords Pincushion have been intelligent individuals, and the current one assembled an entire team of such heroes.”
“The League of Goodness!” I confirmed. “But I was thinking of somebody else, actually—Professor Brain-Drain.”
“Ah, yes,” Dr. Telomere said with all seriousness. “He’s a perfect example of what can happen when knowledge is put toward evil purposes. There probably hasn’t been a more curious, and intelligent, citizen of Superopolis—at least until I started following your progress, my boy.”
“My progress?” I said, taken aback. “But why? How long could you possibly have known about me?”
“Oh, since shortly after you were born,” he admitted. “It always catches my attention when I hear of children who don’t show any outward signs of a power,” he explained. “As you’re probably aware, people’s powers tend to fall into two distinct categories: abilities and deformities.”
“Deformities?!” I said, lurching back.
“Well, that was the term I used at first. When people sprout an extra limb or their hair turns into yarn . . .”
“Or their head looks like a watermelon . . .” I added.
“Exactly,” he agreed. “I used the word strictly as a scientific categorization, but the people who had these various . . . abnormalities . . . took offense at the term.”
“I’m hardly surprised,” I said.
“Besides, they loved their newfound ‘uniqueness,’ ” he said with a shrug. “Eventually the term fell out of favor.”
“And the second group . . . ?”
“The other classification covered those individuals who looked perfectly normal but possessed abilities that ranged from the spectacular to the less than useless.”
“I know both kinds,” I admitted.
Dr. Telomere chuckled. “Well, needless to say, it was among this second group where I would occasionally hear about some newborn who didn’t appear to have a power. I would always first make sure that he or she had been fed a regular diet of my Potato Chip Mush baby food, and then continue to observe the situation discreetly. In all cases, it only took a little time to determine the child’s power. The one and only exception has been you.”
“You’ve been watching me all this time?” I said in disbelief.
“Not directly watching you, no.” He shook his head. “But I found a particularly effective way of always getting information about your progress.”
“My father,” I said, without even having to think about it.
“Exactly!” he confirmed. “By hiring Thermo to work here I not only was able to hear about your progress on a daily basis but also got an incredibly effective and cost-efficient method of heating my fryers. It was quite a blow to me in both respects when he chose to leave and pursue his superhero career once again. My energy bills skyrocketed.”
“And now you have a business that has ceased completely because of the Amazing Indestructo and the Red Menace.”
“Mostly because of the Red Menace,” Dr. Telomere agreed. “Even with all his advertising, the Amazing Indestructo would never have been able to convince the populace to switch over to those baked scraps of preformed paste that he’s producing.”
“But you know exactly how to return everyone’s power,” I blurted out. “You just have to let people know.”
“Do I?” he replied cryptically. “Do you think people really want to know that something they take such pride in is merely the side effect of their diets?”
“No,” I grudgingly admitted, thinking back on my own experience at the hands of a room of hostile fifth graders. “But then how do things get returned to the way they were?”
“Maybe they don’t,” he said seriously. “For more than two centuries I’ve let a situation persist that maybe should never have happened at all. Maybe this is an experiment that has finally reached its conclusion. Would you be so upset if everyone were to remain . . . ordinary?”
I stood there silently asking myself that very question. How would I feel if everyone was left in the same position as me?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Decisions, Decisions
The decision was mine.
Those were the words that Dr. Telomere had left me with. As I tossed and turned in my bed that night, they echoed through my brain like a fateful decree. I feared the weight of responsibility hanging over me might crush me.
What was I to do? At last I had a power—possibly the most awesome anyone had ever possessed. I had the power over every resident of Superopolis to either return their abilities to them—or not. If I did so, they would once again have the special gifts they believed formed the core of who they were. Or I could do nothing, and leave everyone in the same position as me.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to do just that. My entire life had been a nonstop reminder that I was different. The thought that I had the ability to change all that coursed through me with a fiery rush. Why shouldn’t I put an end to an unnatural system that gave some an unfair advantage over others? Why shouldn’t everyone be equal?
But I already knew the answer to that question. The Red Menace wanted to make everyone equal, too—with no more personality or individuality than a stack of Amazing Indestructo Pseudo-Chips. I didn’t need to hear it coming from a wannabe tyrant to know that such a goal was utterly evil. People are always going to be different. Some will be more talented artists than others, while some will be better athletes. There will be those who get the looks but not the brains, while others get the brains and not the looks. Some lucky few will get both; some will get neither.
And none of these things were guarantees of happiness. The Amazing Indestructo appeared to have everything. Yet I had come to realize he wasn’t a very happy person. I wouldn’t have traded places with him for anything in the world.
Then there were the practical aspects of the decision. If everyone was left powerless, it would be as good as letting the Red Menace win. It was becoming clear to me that he must also know the secret of the potato chips. Why else would he have used his power to switch everybody over to the Pseudo-Chips? But how had he discovered the truth while locked away for fifty years? That was another mystery I needed to solve.
Professor Brain-Drain was also a major concern. Unless I found a way to stop him, he would most likely be the next mayor of Superopolis. Unlike the ineffectual and harmless Mayor Whitewash, Professor BrainDrain could do some serious damage if he were to win. And if everyone remained powerless, he almost certainly was going to win.
What would a true hero do? I asked myself.
The answer was clear. Dr. Telomere’s potato chips would have to be brought back, and AI’s PseudoChips would have to go. Everyone would regain their powers while I would continue to have no power at all. But I would have the hope that Dr. Telomere had left me with—that I just might have a power that simply hadn’t revealed itself yet.
With the decision made, my anxiety was replaced with exhaustion and I finally drifted off to sleep. The question of how I was going to accomplish this would just have to wait.
The next morning I woke to the sound of voices drifting up from our living room. Getting out of bed I pulled on my jeans and a clean white T-shirt and made my way downstairs. There I found an emergency meeting of the New New Crusaders in full swing. Even Stench’s mom, Chrysanthemum, was there, making for a complete reunion of the original New Crusaders. They were in the midst of a heated discussion.
“The problem is that we’ve all lost our powers,” Windbag was blustering. “I don’t know why you keep going on about AI’s chips.”
“We think that AI’s chips are sapping our powers,” my dad was insisting.
“Thermo is right,” my mom said in support. “As soon as we all started eating those chips, our powers vanished.”
As I stood there, listening to their discussion, I had an idea. I had assumed that it was going to be necessary to reveal the power of Dr. Telomere’s chips to everyone in Superopolis in order to foil the Red Menace’s plans. But now I was getting another idea—one that would allow the secret of the chips to remain under wraps.
“It’s true,” I said loudly enough for them to all turn and notice me. “My friends and I discovered that Comrade Crunch is really a paroled super-villain named the Red Menace. He admitted right to our faces that he would use the chips to make everyone in Superopolis equal—equally powerless. He obviously used all his years in prison developing a potato chip that would block everyone’s powers.”
“But Pseudo-Chips are so good,” Windbag whined in despair. “They’re all I eat anymore.”
“That’s the truth.” Chrysanthemum rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“They’re lighter and crispier than any other chips,” the Levitator insisted.
“They’re the primary cause of you all losing your endorsement deal with Maximizer Snack Cakes,” I pointed out.
“Maximizer Brand Snack Cakes,” my dad corrected me.
“Wait here,” I said as I bolted into the kitchen and grabbed another of the bags of Dr. Telomere’s chips that I had brought with me from the zoo. I returned to the living room, bringing a chip bowl with me as well.
“You’ve all been brainwashed to forget what really good potato chips taste like,” I said as I ripped open the bag and poured half the chips into the bowl. “Taste these and tell me if you honestly believe Pseudo-Chips even come close.”
Reluctantly our four guests reached for a chip as my mom and dad watched. The proud looks on their faces were all I needed to know that my decision last night had been the right one. And the look of pleasant surprise on the face of each New New Crusader told me that I had broken the spell the Red Menace had had over them.
“You’re right, OB.” The Big Bouncer blinked a few times as if he were clearing his head. “These are fantastic. How could I ever have thought AI’s chips were better than these?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I explained. “It was the Red Menace. But now it’s up to all of you to let everybody once again taste the superiority of Dr. Telomere’s chips.”
“But how?” My dad shrugged. “The factory is closed. Dr. Telomere’s is out of business.”
“You know how the factory runs,” I reminded him. “You may not have your power back yet, but with the help of the New New Crusaders you can still get production up and running again. When people taste Dr. Telomere’s chips again, that will be it for the Pseudo Chips. And the New New Crusaders will be the team that made it all happen.”
“The boy’s a genius,” my dad said as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders. A warm glow spread throughout me—literally. There was a faint heat coming from my father’s hands.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
That’s the Ticket!
I was confident that my father’s team would soon have Dr. Telomere’s fully up and running. But how was I going to get the entire city to switch chips? Not only that, how was I going to prevent Professor Brain-Drain from being elected mayor? There had to be some way to derail his bid for the office.
“Miss Marble?” I raised my hand, interrupting her as she explained how important it is for a politician to know his own flaws so he can accuse his opponent of the same things first. “What exactly are the qualifications for being able to run for mayor?”
“Other than breathing?” she asked. “Well, you have to have an oversize ego. And tons of money is helpful, too.”
“But what about legal requirements?” I pressed.
“Legal?” she said, partly to herself. “Well, you have to be at least old enough to vote. Oh, yeah, and you can’t ever have been convicted of a crime. That usually happens after you’ve been in office.”
None of this was of any use. Professor Brain-Drain was certainly old enough, and he had said he’d never been convicted of a crime—as hard as that was for me to believe. Then it hit me! Professor Brain-Drain himself admitted he had tried
draining the Red Menace’s brain ten years ago. How else could he have done that unless he was in prison, too? Before I made that kind of an accusation, though, I was going to need proof.
I was so distracted by this idea that it caught me by surprise when Tadpole asked for permission to get up and make a speech. What was he doing? We hadn’t planned for him to speak.
“Fellow classmates,” he began solemnly, “we have a crucial decision to make. With our powers gone, it’s more important than ever to cast our votes wisely. That’s why you need to vote for the candidates who are clearly smarter.”
Uh-oh. If there was one thing I had learned from Miss Marble, it was that nobody buys into the idea that a smart candidate is a better choice when it comes to elections.
“Just three weeks ago, when he had us prisoner in his lair atop the Vertigo Building, Professor BrainDrain himself attempted to drain away the intelligence of all three of our top candidates,” Tadpole continued as if this proved our superiority. “Can our opponents say likewise? In a world of no powers, smarts matter.”
“Ha! Their side has already given up on getting our powers back,” Cannonball accused, sensing the easy opening that Tadpole had just given him. “But if you vote for me and Melonhead, we promise to return everybody’s powers right after we’re elected.”
“Right,” snorted Tadpole as he scrambled to recover from his error. “Like you have the ability to give or take away everyone’s powers. That’s ridiculous!”
Tadpole was right, of course, but I knew a lot of my classmates were taking what Cannonball said seriously. They really believed him. I knew I had to act.
“Cannonball claims he can bring back your powers if you vote for him.” I quickly rose to address the class. “That’s a lie, of course. But I’ll make you a different promise. Our side will solve this problem and bring back everyone’s powers before the election.”