The Girl Who Knew Even More

by Commander S. T. Bolivar, III

  Everyone agreed. Well, everyone except for Delia Dane, who had just crept down the stairs. She looked from Mattie to the Spencers to the machine and smiled.

  THEY’D DONE IT! THEY’D CLONED the crystal! Mattie knew he was grinning wildly and he couldn’t stop. Actually he didn’t want to stop grinning. This was amazing. All he had to do now was—

  “Give it to me.”

  Mattie swallowed. It couldn’t be. Ever so slowly, he began to turn. Please, please, please don’t let it be…

  Delia.

  Delia stood next to the conveyor belt. Her hair was shiny, her smile was wide, and her jacket was dirt-smeared. “Miss me?”

  “Not really,” Mattie said, pocketing the crystals. “Want to go away so we can see if I do?”

  “Funny.” Delia strode toward him, hand outstretched. “Give me the crystal.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  “No!” Mattie drew himself up and squared his shoulders. It didn’t really help. Delia was still two inches taller, but he felt better. “We know about General Mills and Miss Maple and the lightning setting and what you’re going to do with the Weather-matic!”

  “We do?” Eliot whispered to his sister.

  “Shut up!” Caroline whispered back.

  Okay, so they didn’t know exactly what Delia had planned for the Weather-matic and the crystal, but Mattie was pretty sure whatever Delia had in mind would be bad. Actually, he was positive it would be bad.

  He was also positive something had just moved in the shadows behind Delia. Mattie tried not to look. Maybe it was a teacher!

  Or maybe it’s Dr. Hoo, the little voice inside his head said.

  Mattie took a shaky breath. “There is zero chance I’m giving you the crystal,” he told Delia.

  “Oh,” she said airily, “I think there’s a very good chance you’re going to give it to me. In fact, there are two very big reasons you’re going to do it too.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Mattie asked.

  Delia smirked. “Yeah.” She snapped her fingers and Doyle and Maxwell emerged from the shadows. Doyle pounded one fist into his hand and Maxwell cracked his knuckles.

  Mattie felt all the blood drain from his face. Delia was quite right. Doyle and Maxwell were indeed very big reasons to give her the crystal.

  Caroline brushed past Mattie. She stood in front of him, hands on hips and hair twice the size of her head. “We can take them. There are four of us.”

  “Beezus doesn’t count,” her brother whispered furiously. “Stop acting like he does!”

  Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Get them!”

  Maxwell and Doyle jumped forward with a roar. Eliot squeaked, Caroline charged, and Mattie grabbed the back of her shirt. “Stop!” he yelled.

  To Mattie’s shock, everyone did.

  Mattie took a deep breath. “You have to tell me why, Delia!”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  Mattie tightened his grip on Caroline’s shirt as the shadows behind Delia rolled. “Tell me why you want the crystal.”

  A slow smile crossed Delia’s face. She stepped closer to the cloning machine and orange lights from the electrical board rippled across her shiny hair. “Why, Mattie, I’m so glad you asked.”

  “I’m not! Now she’ll never shut up!” Caroline lunged forward again and Mattie hauled her back. The shadows behind Delia moved once more and Mattie’s heart leaped. He knew someone was there.

  Someone who would help them?

  Or someone who would help Delia?

  Maxwell growled and started toward them. Delia put a hand on his sleeve. “I’ll let you pummel her later,” Delia told him. She turned back to Mattie. “You see, I was sent here to fulfill my aunt’s latest master plan—you ruined the last one, Mattie—and, frankly I was angry. Gathering up clones for Dr. Hoo? Being stuck here until the Weather-matic was ready? I had way better things to do than watch him accidentally set off thunderstorms in class. In fact, I had so many way better things, it got me thinking about clones. If I had one, I could make it do my homework, my chores. I mean, who wouldn’t want a minion?”

  Eliot sighed, nodding. “Exactly.”

  “I’m going to thump him,” Caroline muttered. Mattie held on to her and watched the shadows. Nothing happened. Was that a good sign? A bad sign? Mattie didn’t know, but he did know the longer Delia talked, the better Mattie’s chances were of thinking of something—anything—to get them out of this.

  “A Delia clone would make me look like the perfect niece,” Delia continued, smiling to herself and staring at the machine. “And that got me thinking about perfect aunts. You see, my auntie has missed every ballet recital, every school play, every award ceremony I’ve ever had, and I’m tired of it. Was tired of it. I’ve moved on. I’ve evolved. I’m not interested in making my aunt love me.”

  Mattie hesitated. “Well, that’s very mature of you.”

  “Isn’t it?” Delia studied the cloning machine’s pipes and wires and smokestacks. “Now, I’m interested in making the whole world love me—or fear me. I’m happy with either.”

  Mattie’s stomach lowered an inch and then one more. This was even worse than they thought. “That’s why you want the Weather-matic? To threaten people into doing what you want?”

  “Not just people. Governments. Countries. Entire continents!” Delia turned back to Mattie, looking at him expectantly. “What do you think of that?”

  I think I see a very bald head poking around the smokestack! Mattie blinked, sure he was hallucinating, but he wasn’t. It was Doyle—the clone that is—creeping along the top of the machine.

  What’s he doing?

  Clone Doyle crept from pipe to pipe, frame to frame, without a single sound, and when the Spencers inhaled hard, Mattie knew they’d seen the clone too.

  “Well?” Delia demanded. “What do you think?”

  “I think you sure do like to talk about yourself,” Mattie said.

  Delia scowled like he had let her down.

  It was sort of true. You see, at this point in his life, Mattie didn’t know the rules of villains and heroes and heroes who were also thieves. He had no idea that when Delia the Terrible was talking, he was supposed to listen—and be suitably scared. This is part of Hero-Villain Statute 747B: Villain Monologues.

  “Of course I like to talk about myself,” Delia managed through clenched teeth. Eyes bulging, Real Doyle and Real Maxwell looked at each other. Mattie and the Spencers weren’t the only kids scared of Delia. “I’m fascinating.”

  Clone Doyle dangled twenty feet above her head, and when Mattie’s eyes widened, she grinned. “I know. I’m terrifying too. It’s a gift.”

  “Well, I still don’t get it,” Mattie said.

  “What?” Delia frowned as Clone Doyle swung on an antenna, his mud-caked shoes dancing. “Why? I explained everything perfectly.”

  “Well, yeah. You explained that part, but not the rest.” Mattie tried very hard not to look at Clone Doyle, who was still dangling from the antenna. “How did Miss Maple even know about the Weather-matic? And how did she meet Dr. Hoo?”

  Delia slumped. Clearly, her big moment wasn’t nearly as satisfying when Mattie played dumb. “They met online,” she said finally. “There are websites for everything—including world domination. Hoo told her all about the Weather-matic. They were supposed to be partners, but then he double-crossed her.”

  Mattie thought for a moment. “Did you know about that when you caught me in the headmaster’s office?”

  Delia’s expression darkened. “I didn’t then, but I do now, and now I’m taking over.” She smiled her nastiest smile, and even though Mattie was trying to be tougher, he couldn’t stop shivering at the sight. “I want that crystal, Mattie. Both of them.”

  “Too bad.” Mattie thought he sounded awfully determined for someone whose insides had gone liquid. “You can’t have them.”

  Delia paused. “If you don’t give it to me, I really will destroy you. Purple glitter and s
hredded Dream Bears were just playing around.”

  “I can take it.” Again, Mattie sounded brave.

  Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. If you don’t give it to me, I’ll destroy them.” Delia didn’t point or even look at Caroline and Eliot. She didn’t have to. Mattie knew exactly whom she meant. “Maxwell and Doyle will turn them into pulp and it will be your fault.”

  Everyone fell silent. There was only the hum of generators and the drip of pipes. If anyone could make good on that promise, it was Delia Dane. Mattie knew it, the Spencers knew it, and Delia especially knew it.

  “Face it,” she said. “You’re done. I beat you.”

  Mattie looked at Delia. He looked at Caroline and Eliot. Then he looked at Real Maxwell and Real Doyle and tried not to look at the clone dangling above their heads. Mattie had to admit Delia was right. They were caught. It was a depressing realization.

  It also gave him an idea.

  “You’re right,” Mattie said, sliding his hand into his pocket. He pulled out the crystals and rolled them around in his palm.

  Caroline gasped. “Mattie! Don’t!”

  “You can’t!” Eliot yelled.

  “I have to! Delia’s right. She won.” Mattie tossed the crystals at Delia. “Here. Take them.”

  Delia snatched the crystals from the air. “This is why you shouldn’t have friends, Mattie. They make you weak.” She paused, peering down at her hand. “Wait. Which one’s the real crystal?”

  “Guess you’ll find out,” Mattie replied.

  “Bu-but if I pick wrong, the machine could be ruined!”

  “Oh darn, that’s right,” Mattie said.

  Delia glared at him before spinning around. “Have fun,” she said to Real Maxwell and Real Doyle. The Reals—as Mattie was beginning to think of them—rubbed their hands together.

  “Hey!” Mattie yelled. “A deal’s a deal! I gave you the crystals!”

  But Delia was already gone.

  WELL, SHE WASN’T EXACTLY already gone. Mattie and the Spencers listened to Delia’s footsteps as she ran across the concrete floor and up the concrete steps. They were light and fast footsteps and they disappeared somewhere around the ladder, growing softer and softer until they were nothing at all.

  “Which one do you want to punch first?” Real Doyle asked Real Maxwell, stepping forward. His feet scraped against the cold concrete floor.

  “The girl one,” Real Maxwell said.

  Caroline sighed. “Well, you can try,” she said. As far as heroic responses to being punched go, it was a pretty good quip. But, honestly? There wasn’t much heart in it.

  Mattie understood. This wasn’t their best moment. He needed another idea—a really good one too, because Real Maxwell and Real Doyle had started toward them. Mattie and the Spencers backed up.

  “Get them!” Real Doyle shouted.

  “Run!” Mattie yelled. Eliot scrambled across the conveyor belt. Mattie and Caroline dove under the fat red pipes. Maxwell went after Eliot. Doyle chased Mattie and Caroline.

  “How could you give Delia the crystal?” Caroline scurried along on her hands and knees. “She’s going to hurt people!”

  “No, she’s not,” Mattie said, crawling along after her. They wedged themselves between two support columns as Doyle puffed behind them.

  “Come here!” he shouted.

  “Highly unlikely!” Caroline shouted back.

  “This way!” Mattie yanked her toward a set of metal stairs. They led up to another platform and the platform led…actually Mattie had no idea. He’d deal with it in a minute.

  Caroline and Mattie reached the top step and spun right. They hit a wall. They spun back around, and galloped across the platform and around a corner and—

  “We are so screwed,” Caroline said, panting.

  She was right. The platform dead-ended into a massive electrical cabinet. There was no going over. There was no going under. They were caught.

  “Ow!” Eliot shrieked. Mattie cringed. It sounded like Eliot was caught too.

  “Gotcha,” Doyle said. Mattie and Caroline swung around. Doyle flexed his meaty hands. “Now, who wants to go first?”

  Whap!

  Clone Doyle dropped in front of Real Doyle. “I do!” he announced.

  Real Doyle’s mouth fell open. His eyes went huge. “I—I—I—”

  “Am a horrible human being,” Caroline muttered.

  Mattie elbowed her.

  “What is this?” Real Doyle squealed. Mattie nearly laughed. Relief and panic were warring inside him, and it made Real Doyle’s high-pitched squeak way funnier than it should’ve been.

  “It’s a long story,” Mattie told Real Doyle. “Hey, Doyle?”

  Both Doyles turned.

  “Uh.” Mattie glanced at Caroline and she shrugged. “Doyle the clone?”

  “What?” Real Doyle asked. His voice was even squeakier.

  “Yes?” Clone Doyle asked Mattie.

  “Could you keep him here for us? We have to save El—”

  Bam!

  Eliot hurtled around the corner. “Guys! Maxwell saved me from himself!”

  But apparently not before Real Maxwell had punched Eliot in the face. His cheek was purpling. “This is even better than the gym blowing up! I have a bodyguard!”

  “You’re going to need one if Delia gets ahold of the Weather-matic,” Caroline said, bending in half as she caught her breath.

  “Maybe not,” Mattie managed. He needed to explain and he didn’t have the breath. Nearly dying always did that to him. “Fifty-fifty chance Delia picks the wrong crystal.”

  Caroline thumped him. “Fifty-fifty chance she picks the right one!”

  “What’s going on?” Real Doyle’s face was shiny with sweat. He couldn’t drag his eyes from Clone Doyle. “Why does he look like me?”

  Mattie ignored him. “What does ‘destroy the machine’ mean anyway? If Delia does use the wrong crystal, what happens?”

  “Don’t know,” Caroline said.

  Eliot clapped his hands together. “So let’s go find out!”

  “Clone Doyle?” Mattie looked at the clone. “Can you keep them here?”

  “Sure! And take some muffins to go!”

  Mattie frowned. “But there aren’t any—”

  Caroline held up her empty hand. “Yum! Yum!” she said, pretending to eat.

  Clone Doyle’s nose wrinkled. “Is she okay?” he asked Mattie. “Because there’s nothing in her hand.”

  “I’ll get her checked out,” Mattie said, dragging the Spencers with him. “We’ll be right back!”

  Mattie didn’t think he’d ever run so fast in his life. He took the stairs two at a time. He scrambled up the ladder. He ran flat-out across the overgrown meadow and didn’t trip once, which was quite the feat considering how the moon had ducked behind the clouds and shadows pooled everywhere.

  But even all of this wasn’t enough for Mattie to catch up to Delia.

  “She’ll head for the gym!” Caroline shouted, ponytail whipping behind her.

  “Wait!” Eliot cried, running behind them. “What are you going to do, Mattie?”

  Mattie had no idea. Like running from Maxwell and Doyle, some things had to be figured out as they happened. Or at least Mattie hoped he would figure it out as it happened. Honestly, all this was far too much to explain while running across the Munchem campus.

  Mattie and the Spencers dashed across the still-crispy lawn, dodging half-burned inventions, a very un-burned shark tank, and…Dr. Hoo and Professor Shelley?

  Mattie and the Spencers skidded to a stop as the two scientists wrestled across the grass in front of the gym. “I won’t let you do this!” Professor Shelley cried. “It’s over!”

  “Aargh!” Dr. Hoo bellowed, not because he agreed, but because Professor Shelley had him by the hair and was yanking as hard as she could.

  “Lem!” Professor Shelley yelled. “Lem, c’mon!”

  Lem was indeed coming. The tall, thin scientist barreled out of th
e dark toward Hoo and Shelley. “Students!” Lem cried, noticing Mattie, Caroline, and Eliot looking on. “Don’t! Move! He isn’t who you think!”

  “Who?” Caroline asked.

  “Hoo!” Lem flung himself on top of Professor Shelley and Dr. Hoo. They wrestled right. They wrestled left. They didn’t notice the ballroom-turned-gym’s windows brightening up, or the hole from the explosion beginning to illuminate with pink.

  Mattie gasped. He looked from the wrestling teachers to the hole in the wall, and back to the teachers. There was no time to wait. Mattie hurled himself forward. The Spencers charged after him. And Professor Shelley, under a pile of arms and legs, threatened to give everyone detention.

  Inside, all the lights were blazing. Mattie couldn’t see a thing—and then he could. Specifically, he could see Delia climbing up the side of the Weather-matic.

  “Delia! Stop!” Mattie cried. “Please!”

  Delia didn’t stop. If anything, she climbed faster. Hand over hand, foot over foot, Delia grabbed the Weather-matic’s wire antenna and swung a few feet higher. Mattie groaned and pumped his legs harder. The Spencers were close behind him.

  Just a little farther, Mattie thought, his lungs on fire. Keep going!

  Mattie, Caroline, and Eliot did keep going—until bright orange light shot up toward the ceiling. Mattie slid to a stop. Caroline, then Eliot, crashed into him. The orange light widened and then narrowed, focusing.

  Mattie gasped. “She found the right one! She’s going to use it!”

  Eliot grabbed his arm. “Then we need to go!”

  “WHAT?”

  Caroline grabbed Mattie’s other arm. “He’s right! We have to get out of here!”

  The Weather-matic began to shake. Its belly turned red.

  “You know how this ends, Mattie!” Caroline yelled, pulling Mattie with all her strength.

  He yanked his arm from her grip. “Of course I do! That’s why we have to stop her!”

  Boom!

  The orange beam shot a fresh hole in the gym roof. Mattie and the Spencers hit the floor, covering their heads with their arms.

  “Delia?” Mattie yelled. There was no answer. Mattie peeked up at the Weather-matic. The top of Delia’s shiny blond head poked out of the machine.