Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers

by Matthew McElligott

  Victor felt the air temperature rising and the wind picking up. The Hyperion coil was evidently up and running.

  The boys careened into the next alley. Victor spotted the chain-link fence at the edge of the Arthur Parker Art Park. The park had been the perfect place to set their trap: full of wide-open spaces, secluded, and devoid of people. They skidded their bikes to a stop and dragged them under the fence.

  “This way,” Scott shouted. “Past the giant nose!”

  They hopped back on their bikes and took off across the park, swerving between the enormous sculptures on their way to the trap. The Megabat’s propellers buzzed close behind.

  THE MODIFIED WURP NEWS VAN

  At the crest of the next hill, Victor breathed a quick sigh of relief. The old WURP news van was parked in position. Next to it, the Hyperion coil fired ripples of heat into the sky, where dark clouds were forming. Dozens of box kites lurched violently in the wind, tethered by a nearly invisible web of wire to—

  Victor’s stomach tensed as they pedaled closer. There was a problem.

  Franklin teetered atop the news van, his foot hooked beneath the giant orb. He clutched the frayed ends of the kite net with both hands as it thrashed and snapped in the wind.

  “Dr. Franklin,” Skip called, “I can’t throw the switch until you’re clear of the net. You’ll be electrocuted!”

  Victor screamed into his headset. “He’s right! It’s too dangerous!”

  “If I let go of the net, it will blow away,” Franklin insisted. “Victor! Scott! Lure them this way!”

  They had no choice. The Megabat was gaining on them. Thirty feet from the van, Victor veered left as Scott veered right. They converged on the other side and pedaled on. Victor turned to see the Megabat swoop down at them. It was working. The brothers hadn’t seen the net!

  “Now!” Franklin shouted.

  “But you’ll—”

  “NOW!” Franklin commanded. “NOW!”

  Skip threw the switch. Lightning cracked in the sky, struck the kite net, and raced down the wire through the Megabat, through Franklin, and into the orb.

  “Rrrarrrrrrrrrrggghhhhhh!” Franklin howled.

  The Megabat thrashed in the net like a fish on a line. Flames rose from its wings, and Franklin was yanked into the air. The plane tumbled across the sky, towing him behind.

  Victor gazed on in shock as the Megabat, the Wright brothers, and Franklin crashed over a distant hill.

  He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. “Get in the van,” Skip Weaver commanded. “Dr. Franklin needs our help.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Battle Royale

  Weighted down with the extra equipment, the old van groaned as it climbed the hill. Mr. Weaver coaxed it along, shifting into a lower gear and pumping the gas pedal.

  Clanging and crushing noises echoed from over the crest.

  “What’s that sound?” Scott asked.

  “Rrrrrrrraaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggghhh!”

  “It’s Ben!” Victor said. “He’s still alive!”

  The van stalled out at the top of the hill. Below them a furious battle was raging.

  Franklin and the Wright brothers clashed atop a flaming mountain of glowing, twisted metal that had once been the Megabat. The tank of harmonic fluid had ruptured, and blue liquid flooded the lawn. Orville ripped a chunk of steel from the mangled mess beneath him and flung it at Franklin. With the back of his hand, Franklin swatted it from the air and sent it hurtling upward. Fifty feet away, it struck an enormous steel sculpture of a toothbrush and crashed to the ground.

  Victor started to jump out of the van and run to Franklin’s aid, but Mr. Weaver held him back. “It’s too dangerous.”

  He knew Mr. Weaver was right. Franklin, the Wright brothers, and the entire wreckage of the Megabat glowed with raw harmonic energy. Franklin was in a supercharged state, and judging by their strength, the brothers were too.

  Wilbur tore a bicycle frame from the flaming mountain and swung it. Franklin ducked and stormed at Orville, lifting him into the air. With a roar, he hurled Orville at Wilbur, knocking both brothers onto their backs.

  “We have to do something,” Victor said. “They’ll destroy each other.”

  “It’s too bad we can’t just pull out their batteries,” Scott said.

  Batteries?

  “The orb!” Victor exclaimed.

  “Of course,” Skip said, eyeing the charging sphere on top of the van. “That thing sucks up energy, right?”

  “It’s like an electric sponge,” Victor said. “If we can get them to touch it, it might absorb their power.”

  Atop the mountain of wreckage, the Wright brothers double-teamed Franklin. One held his neck while the other rammed his stomach with a chunk of the Megabat’s engine. Franklin howled and fell to the ground.

  “Stand back, boys,” Skip directed. He hopped into the van and turned the key. The engine spat and sputtered, then rumbled to life.

  Skip turned the wheel toward the glowing wreckage and stepped on the accelerator. The van lurched down the hill and began to pick up speed. He threw open the door and jumped free, tumbling across the grass.

  The van hurtled across the lawn and smashed into the wreckage of the Megabat. The impact snapped the orb free from the roof and it rolled onto the towering pile. A trail of sparks shot up the mountain of glowing metal and through the bodies of the men struggling on top. The orb surged, and the harmonic energy began to flow into it like a fountain in reverse.

  “It’s working!” said Scott.

  There was a blinding flash and an earsplitting crack. Victor felt a rippling stream of energy course through his entire body, then everything went dark and silent. Everything except for the orb’s pulsating glow.

  Once his vision returned, Victor scrambled down the hill, scanning the the pile for any sign of Franklin and the Wright brothers. Franklin’s body lay on the far side. The batteries on his belt looked like charcoal briquettes.

  “Ben?”

  Skip and Scott clambered up behind Victor.

  “How is he?” Skip asked.

  Victor reached down to check for a pulse but pulled his hand back. “I can’t tell. He’s too hot to touch.”

  “His chest isn’t moving,” Scott said. “He isn’t . . . dead, is he?”

  A dry wheeze croaked from Franklin’s throat. “Reports of my . . . death are . . . greatly exaggerated. Victor, has anyone said that before me? If not, I should like to claim it as my own.”

  Victor beamed. “Ben, you’re alive!”

  “Just barely,” Franklin said, struggling to sit up. He shook his head. “How did you return me to normal?”

  “The orb.”

  Franklin peered down at the pulsing metal sphere that lay below. “Brilliant work, my boy.”

  “It was a team effort,” said Victor. He turned to Skip. “And Mr. Weaver was awesome.”

  “Standard celebrity stuff,” said Skip.

  Franklin chuckled and winced. “Ah, it hurts to laugh. I feel my power is nearly drained. Help me down to the orb, will you? I can use it to restore my energy before we discharge the rest into the sky.”

  Skip, Scott, and Victor lifted the old man to his feet.

  “And the brothers?” Ben asked. “Are they all right?”

  “All right?” Skip asked. “They tried to kill you.”

  “They were not acting of their own accord, Mr. Weaver. They are puppets of the Emperor. If we can help them, we must.”

  From the other side of the pile came sounds of shifting metal. A silhouette emerged.

  “Where . . . am I?”

  A second shadowy form followed. “Wilbur?”

  “Orville! Brother! ”

  The two men embraced as if they hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime.

  WRIGHT BROTHERS NATIONAL MEMORIAL, NORTH CAROLINA

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A Second Chance at Life

  A week later at the Right Cycle Company, Victor, Scott, and Franklin watched
as Orville and Wilbur Wright systematically dismantled the strange doughnut-shaped machine. The last time Victor and Scott had seen it, it had been pumping harmonic fluid into the necks of five of Philadelphia’s most influential citizens. According to the brothers, it was called a harmonic transmitter.

  Jaime was there, too, taking photographs and making notes. She was still all business, but Victor thought she seemed more relaxed than she had at the diner. At one point, he even caught a glimpse of a smile.

  “So what exactly are you going to do with this thing?” asked Victor.

  “Step one is to figure out how the transmitter works,” said Jaime. “We’re hoping some of the Custodians in the Promethean Underground will be able to reverse-engineer it. They’re experts in harmonic technology.”

  “We ourselves only have vague memories of constructing it,” Wilbur explained.

  “That accursed Emperor’s voice!” Orville said. “We just couldn’t get it out of our heads. It was maddening.”

  Victor and Scott helped the brothers pack the dismantled transmitter into several large wooden crates. Jaime carefully recorded each part in her notebook.

  “What’s going to happen to the other people who were hypnotized?” Scott asked. “Mayor Milstead and the rest. Will they be okay?”

  “Powerful though it may be,” Franklin said, “harmonic fluid is harmless to the average human body. It will pass through their systems in a day or two.”

  “That’s why the Emperor had to keep them hooked up to that machine,” Victor said. “To recharge their harmonic fluid.”

  “Like at the gas station,” Scott said.

  “Precisely,” Franklin said. “And I speak from experience when I say that once it wears off, they will likely remember nothing.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Jaime. “But what about the wreckage of the Megabat? It’s still sitting there in the middle of that art park. Erased memories or not, someone’s going to notice.”

  “We’ve taken care of it,” Victor explained. “Yesterday morning we snuck back and put a plaque in front of it. Ben named it The Emperor’s Spaghetti.”

  Jaime smiled. “I have to hand it to you guys, you really came through. The other members of the Underground can’t wait to meet you.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Franklin said.

  “For the first time in quite a while, we feel energized. We may not have won the war, but we’ve won an important battle.”

  “True,” Franklin said. “But there’s no telling whom the Emperor will awaken next. We must remain on our guard.”

  “Scott,” Jaime said, “I wish your dad was here so I could thank him too. I’m glad he’s on our side.”

  “Me too,” said Victor. “We couldn’t have done it without him. He’s a real pro.”

  “I know!” Scott said. “And wait until you see what he has planned for tomorrow’s broadcast. It’s going to be windy, so he rented all these fans and he’s going to blow everything off the set—even his clothes!”

  Victor sighed.

  “Delightful!” Franklin said. His face grew serious. “Speaking of parents, Jaime, has there been any news of your own mother and father?”

  “Not yet, but there’s hope. The Underground believes the Emperor has been abducting Custodians to turn them to his side. With my parents’ knowledge of the Order, they’re more valuable to him alive than dead.”

  OTHER SCULPTURES AT THE ARTHUR PARKER ART PARK

  THOUGHTFUL PAJAMAS

  GEORGE WASHINGTON WITH PORCUPINE

  NORMAN ROCKWELL’S LAST POTLUCK SUPPER

  FOOD DESCENDING A STAIRCASE

  SIR BISCUIT WHISKERS SIPS SOUP

  JIGGLING DONKEY

  “We’ll help you find them,” Scott said. “Right, guys?”

  “You know it,” Victor said.

  “It will be my honor,” said Franklin. “The Great Emergency is the very reason I am here.”

  “As are we,” added Wilbur. “Although my brother and I will be quite busy over the next few months. It seems we need to reconstruct several hundred bicycles or face some very angry customers.”

  “In any case, you can count on us,” Orville said. “We owe you all a debt of gratitude.”

  “Agreed,” said Wilbur. “The Emperor’s voice has been banished from our thoughts. May it never return!”

  “The Emperor’s voice!” Orville exclaimed. “I suddenly realize where I’ve heard it before.” He staggered to a chair and sat down. “Wilbur, the man who is destroying the Order today is the same man who gave us a second chance at life, so long ago!”

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  EPILOGUE

  “Custodian!” the man screamed. “Come here at once!”

  “Yes, Monsier Enbée?” The Custodian raced to the man resting in the large glass and metal casket.

  “Why have I lost all contact with the Wright brothers?”

  The Custodian trembled. “It appears, sir, that a small network of Custodians—somehow not yet under your control—sabotaged your efforts. We believe that the Modern Order of Prometheus is trying to—”

  “I AM THE MODERN ORDER OF PROMETHEUS!” He pounded the top of his Leyden casket. “Curse this box! Once it gave me immortality. Now it confines me like a prison cell.”

  The Custodian recoiled. Although the little man had been confined to his Leyden casket for decades, he could still command fear in the bravest of souls. His power seemed boundless.

  “Perhaps, sir, we could send a spy to learn what happened to the brothers?”

  “It no longer matters,” Monsieur Enbée said. “They are lost to me. But thanks to Franklin’s inventions, there are other scientists I have already resurrected for my purposes.” He picked up a light bulb from a nearby shelf and idly rolled it between his fingers. “Although I still cannot fathom how Franklin himself escaped my grasp. It had to be the boy.”

  “They must be stopped, Monsieur Enbée.”

  “Do not concern yourself with them. I have another plan in the works.” He gazed into the lightbulb. “A greater plan.”

  “Your genius is infinite, Monsieur Enbée!”

  “Enough!” the little man shouted from his casket. “I am through hiding behind that false name. From now on, you shall refer to me by my proper title—Napoléon Bonaparte, Emperor of the World!”

  CUSTODIANS NEEDED!

  Have you ever wondered, “Gee, do I have what it takes to be a Custodian in the Modern Order of Prometheus?” The Order is always on the lookout for promising new recruits. Answer these five simple questions and find out if this job is for you!

  1. One of Benjamin Franklin’s biggest problems is that when he is overcharged, he becomes a raging monster bent on total destruction. With this in mind, if you were a raging monster bent on total destruction, what would you destroy first?

  2. In the eighteenth century, Benjamin Franklin flew a kite in a thunderstorm as an experiment to determine whether lightning was actually electricity. How nuts was that? Discuss.

  3. Benjamin Franklin created the Modern Order of Prometheus in order to preserve the world’s greatest inventors, with the idea of reawakening them one day to solve the Great Emergency. If you could put one person into a harmonically induced suspended animation, who would it be? (We will not accept the answer “My annoying brother/sister.”)

  4. When Victor, Scott, and Benjamin Franklin needed to create a lightning storm in order to save Philadelphia, they asked weatherman Skip Weaver for advice. If you had to create a tornado to save a major metropolitan city, how would you go about doing it? What if you had to create an earthquake? A citywide blanket of soupy fog?

  5. If the people running the Modern Order of Prometheus created a secret training program for new Custodians disguised as a fake online business, what do you think they would call their Web site?

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  Wherein is contained
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  an Accounting of the Preparation,

  Suspension, and eventual Reawakening of the Subject in Modern Day,

  and his Quest to discover the Great Emergency.