by Joan Holub
5
Zeus Snooze
I WONDER WHERE PRINCIPAL ZEUS IS?” PANDORA asked Athena the next morning. They’d been sitting in Science-ology class for ten minutes. The second lyrebell had already rung, and he still hadn’t shown up.
Athena shrugged nonchalantly. “Dunno.” She didn’t even look up from the Teen Scrollazine she was paging through.
“So how was the party last night?” Pandora asked, trying to get Athena’s attention. They hadn’t had much time to talk in their dorm room yesterday evening. Athena had gone to a party and hadn’t returned till Pandora was already in bed. Which was odd, because Athena hardly ever went to parties. Usually her idea of a fun way to socialize was in a study group.
At the mention of the word “party,” Athena perked up. “Oh, my godness! It was sooo fun! Some of the godboys were dunking each other in the fountain.” She giggled.
Pandora arched an eyebrow. The Athena she knew would’ve called such antics immature. Or sophomoric. Or some other big word. “You sure were out late.”
“Oh, well, the party didn’t go all that late, but . . .” Athena looked a little embarrassed. “I got lost on my way back to the dorm afterward.”
“But wasn’t the party in the cupola at the top of the school?” asked Pandora. The cupola was an open-air domed room that you climbed a spiral staircase to reach. Athena had been there dozens of times before.
“Yeah.” Athena giggled again. “I think I caught bad-direction-itis or something.”
Or maybe she’d caught bubble-itis, thought Pandora. Could the bubbles from that box yesterday morning really have something to do with how Athena was acting? The impossible idea was starting to seem more possible by the minute.
Before Pandora could ask anything more, Zeus arrived. She watched him come into the classroom and amble over to the teacher’s desk, shuffling his feet.
Sometime since yesterday he’d replaced Muse Urania’s regular chair with a golden, carved throne like the one in his office. Now he tumbled into it, propped his golden-sandaled feet on the desktop, and surveyed the class with tired-looking droopy eyes.
Zeus’s wild red hair looked even wilder than usual this morning. He obviously hadn’t combed it in a while. His tunic was all wrinkled too. And it was the same color as the one he’d worn the day before. Was it the same one? Hadn’t he changed clothes since then? He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed!
“Major bedhead,” she heard one of the godboys murmur, echoing her own thoughts.
Zeus yawned and scratched his chest. After sighing big he looked over at Athena. “Theeny, you’re in charge today,” he told her. “Wake me up when class is over.”
With that he unrolled Muse Urania’s lesson planscroll, laid it over his eyes, and leaned his head against the back of his throne. Within seconds he was snoring loud enough to wake the dead all the way down in the Underworld.
Everyone looked at everyone else in surprise. Then they looked at Athena, wondering what to do.
Seeing their stares, Athena’s eyes got huge. “Um, like, don’t look at me,” she said in a panicky voice. “You all know what to do, right?” She wiggled her fingers toward the scrollboard at the front of the room, where the six steps of the scientific method were still on display. Then she giggled nervously. “Do whatever it says there, okay?”
Normally when left without teacher supervision for a few minutes, students would begin tossing magic spitballs or passing notes. But no one quite dared misbehave with Zeus in the room. Even if he was snoozing.
So instead everyone paired up with their partners to discuss their projects. Screech! Heracles dragged his desk next to Athena’s so they could work together.
Screech! Screech! Epimetheus and Prometheus dragged theirs over to Pandora’s. Getting to her feet, she turned her desk around so that the three of them could face each other in a triangle.
“So what should we do for our project?” she asked the Titans as soon as they sat down. She had to speak loudly to be heard over Zeus’s snores, which were at least twice as loud as a classroom of screeching desks and shouting students. If he could sleep through his own snores, it was doubtful anything could wake him.
Really, though, it was unlike him to fall asleep here in class. Just as it was unlike Athena to act ditzy, Artemis to primp, and Persephone to lash out at others.
Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser. Had the bubbles actually somehow caused all this? Had they bumped Athena, Artemis, and Persephone and changed their personalities? And was it possible that sometime since yesterday Zeus had been bumped by a bubble too? A bubble that had managed to change him from an energetic Zeus to a lazy one?
Or had she just been bumped by an imagination bubble that was making her imagination run wild?
Pandora glanced at her partners. “Hey, how about if we do the project question, ‘Why is Zeus acting so bizarro-lazy?’ ” she suggested, only half-joking.
Overhearing her, Poseidon hooked his thumb in Zeus’s direction. “Cut the guy a break,” he said. “He’s usually a ball of energy. Maybe he’s just tired today.”
“Yeah,” said Apollo. “You try being King of the Gods and Ruler of the Heavens plus principal of MOA, and see if it’s not exhausting work.”
They were probably right, Pandora decided in relief.
“C’mon. Let’s get serious,” Prometheus urged, snagging her attention again. The two Titans began discussing project ideas. Pandora put in a word now and then. But mainly she was eavesdropping on the conversation Athena and Heracles were having over on her right. They were trying to decide on a project too.
“What do you want to research?” she heard Heracles ask Athena. He was practically shouting to be heard over Zeus’s snores, so it wasn’t hard to listen in.
She watched Athena flutter a careless hand in the air. “Oh, whatever you think,” she told him.
“You mean you don’t have any ideas? You want me to choose?” asked Heracles. He looked surprised.
“Well, you’re such a strong guy. Your ideas are bound to be much more powerful than any I might have.” Athena giggled.
Heracles looked like he didn’t know whether to be flattered by this or concerned about the way she was acting. But then he seemed to shrug it off. “Okay. How about we go with the question, ‘Which are the best kind of clubs to use to destroy different beasts?’ ”
“Perfect!” squealed Athena. She clapped her hands together in admiration. Now Heracles looked truly shocked.
Pandora knew how he felt. No way Athena would want to study clubs and beast-destroying. At least not the normal Athena.
Heracles was a different story. Even now his big knobby club, which he’d actually used to slay all kinds of monsters and beasts, was slung over his shoulder. He carried it wherever he went, and the MOA boys liked to ooh and ahh over it.
Thunk! Pandora turned to see that a hunk of clay the size of her fist had landed in the center of her desk.
“Earth to Pandora,” said Prometheus. He and Epimetheus each had a hunk of clay too, probably taken from the supply closet. They were both busily making something out of their hunks. Epimetheus’s had four legs. A table, maybe?
“So what do you think of our plan?” Epimetheus asked her.
“Awesome, right?” added Prometheus.
Pandora had no idea what they were talking about, but she didn’t say so. She poked a finger into her clay ball. “Um, could you go over the plan one more time?”
Prometheus looked at Epimetheus. “Told you she wasn’t paying attention.”
“We’re each going to create a new character for the Hero-ology game board,” Epimetheus told her.
Hero-ology was taught by Mr. Cyclops. For one of their projects, each student in his class was assigned a small hero statue that they moved around on a humongous game board in the center of the classroom. Under the students’ supervision, the heroes worked toward different kinds of goals.
“Look at the hero I’m making,” Prometheus enthused. He hel
d up the clay statue of a man with bulging muscles, who was clutching a big flat pan.
Pandora cocked her head curiously. “Why is he holding that pan?”
Prometheus frowned. “It’s a shield, not a pan. I’m not finished yet.” He started working on the shield, adding heraldry emblems.
“I’m making a heroic animal. A rescue dog,” Epimetheus added. He showed her the four-legged thing she’d thought was a table at first. She could see now that it was starting to resemble a dog. While she watched, he cast a spell that made it magically trot across his desk. He smiled when she laughed.
When Pandora didn’t begin work on her own hero right away, Prometheus asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the idea?”
“It was actually your idea, you know,” Epimetheus told her. “Remember yesterday when you said you wanted to help mortals? You said we should give them something. So we’re giving them heroes.”
“But what about my idea to find out why Zeus is acting so lazy?” She leaned in so Athena wouldn’t hear the next thing she planned to say. “He isn’t the only one acting weird. Have you noticed how giggly and ditzy Athena is acting?” Immediately both boys turned to stare at Athena.
“Stop!” Pandora hissed. “Don’t stare at her! I just wondered if you’d noticed?”
“All girls are giggly,” said Prometheus. He said this as if it were an absolute fact he’d seen carved in the wall of a temple somewhere on Earth.
“That’s not true,” said Pandora. “And Athena’s usually not at all giggly. She’s usually super brainy.”
“So if you giggle, you don’t have brains?” Epimetheus asked.
Pandora straightened. The way he said it made her suspicions sound dumb. “Okay, then. We’ll do the hero thing,” she told them. “But isn’t the first step in the scientific method to come up with a question? By making heroes, what question will we be trying to answer?”
“Our question is going to be, ‘What effect will adding heroes to the game board have on Earth?’ ” explained Epimetheus. “And our hypothesis is that creating more heroes is a good idea because they’ll be able to help more mortals.”
“Or maybe they’ll create more problems?” countered Pandora. “In Hero-ology we get graded on manipulation, disasters, quick saves, and on how well our heroes succeed. Which means our heroes are always trying to outdo each other. Which also means they’re forever going on quests and starting wars on Earth.”
The two boys stopped working on their heroes, suddenly unsure. “I told you we shouldn’t have asked her to join our team,” grumbled Prometheus.
Uh-oh, thought Pandora. If they kicked her off their team, she might wind up having to do a project all by herself. “Wait! Did I say it was a bad idea? I don’t think so. It’s pretty good, actually.”
A new thought came to her, and she snapped her fingers. “I know! I’ll make a girl hero. That’ll be fun.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Epimetheus.
Prometheus nodded.
They continued discussing their project as they worked on their statues. Pandora molded her clay hero-girl to have wild hair and a long cape that fluttered out behind her. She also gave her a big question mark on the front of her chiton.
“I’m going to name her Curie,” she said. “For ‘curious.’ ”
“Mine’s Alpha Dog!” said Epimetheus, getting into the spirit of fun. “Because he’s number one when it comes to hero dogs!”
Prometheus looked hesitant. “I can’t think of a name for my hero.”
“He’s made of clay. How about naming him Clay?” suggested Pandora. Which made both boys crack up.
Time flew by as they worked on their little heroes. They finished right before the lyrebell rang, and decided they’d take their statues to the game board the next day.
But then Pandora said, “Wait a sec. I just thought of something. The Hero-ology room will be empty during lunch, so why wait? We won’t bother anyone if we take our heroes there now.”
“Sure,” said Epimetheus.
“Yeah, why not?” Prometheus agreed. So, after leaving the room with their little statues, they all headed down the hall to Hero-ology.
The classroom was empty when they got there. Like Pandora had figured, everyone had gone to lunch already. Even Mr. Cyclops. They slipped inside and went over to the game board in the center of the room.
The game covered the top of a table about the size of two Ping-Pong tables set side by side. Its three-dimensional world map showed colorful countries dotted with castles, villages, roads, and hills. The countries were surrounded by oceans filled with small sea monsters, mermaids, and scaly dragons that really moved!
Dozens of three-inch-tall hero statues already stood atop the board here and there. The Titans each chose a spot and set their heroes on the map.
But Pandora walked around the board, considering the various countries. “Let’s see. Where should you go, little Curie?” she murmured to herself.
“What’s this?” Epimetheus asked a few seconds later. Pandora turned her head and saw him standing by some shelves against the classroom wall. He had picked up a wooden horse from a shelf to examine it.
The horse was about the size of a lunch box, plus legs, a head, and a tail. Naturally someone who liked animals the way he did would be interested in it.
“It’s Athena’s,” Pandora told him. “A toy she brought from home. Usually she keeps it in our dorm room, but I guess she must be using it for something in class this week.”
“So that’s the famous Trojan horse?” said Prometheus. He went to stand by his brother, and they both gazed at it with interest.
“You’ve heard of it?” Pandora asked.
“Sure, everyone has. It’s famous on Earth,” said Epimetheus.
Earlier that year all the MOA students had been abuzz about the horse too. Athena had used it to end the Trojan War! She’d tricked the team of classmates in charge of the Trojan heroes by offering the horse to them as a gift.
Little had they known that she’d filled its hollow stomach full of Olympic hero statues. Once the horse had been allowed inside the gates of the Trojan fortress, the Olympian heroes had jumped out and won the war.
Thinking of Athena made Pandora think of Athens, which had been named after that brainy girl. Staring back at the game board again, Pandora finally made a decision.
“Here you go,” she told her hero. Then she placed her on the spot marking the city of Athens. By the time she turned to look at the boys again, they’d already put the horse back on its shelf.
“So what do we do next? For our project, I mean?” she asked. “We know mortals need stuff, but what exactly will our heroes do for them?” She stared off into space and tapped her chin with one finger, thinking. “Hmm. What do mortals need?”
“More pets,” suggested Epimetheus. He didn’t look like he was joking either.
“You would say that,” said Prometheus, rolling his eyes in a teasing way. “Wait. I know. They need gold.”
“Yeah. Or jewels,” said Epimetheus.
Pandora cocked her head, considering. “Why would they need that?”
“To buy stuff,” Epimetheus explained.
“Can’t we take a shortcut? Just skip the gold and give them the stuff they really need so they don’t have to buy it?” asked Pandora.
“But we don’t know what they need,” Prometheus protested. “Only they know what they need.”
“Then why don’t we go talk to them?” she suggested as they headed out of the classroom. “Number two in the scientific method is research. Tomorrow during class let’s go down to Earth and ask mortals what they need.”
“You know? That actually makes sense,” Prometheus agreed.
“Yeah, good idea,” Epimetheus said, high-fiving her.
Pandora smiled as she reached up to slap hands with him. “I’m starting to like this plan!” she said. It would be nice to help other mortals, especially since she was a mortal herself.
And
even better, this was turning out to be a good project. With a little luck on their side, maybe they’d even win the fair!
6
Titan Flight
THE NEXT DAY WHEN THE LYREBELL RANG FOR third period, Pandora met Epimetheus and Prometheus at the front office. It was jam-packed.
Pandora waved to get the attention of Zeus’s administrative assistant. “Ms. Hydra? Can we get an Earth pass?”
Earth passes were like hall passes; only, they gave students permission to travel to Earth during class time. Because of the Science-ology fair, lots of other students were in the office getting passes too. Like Pandora’s group, they needed to do research on Earth for their projects.
Ms. Hydra looked super busy, trying to take care of everyone. Her nine heads were zooming back and forth on long, serpentine necks as they dealt with all the students clamoring for her attention.
Her green head, which was grumpy even on a good day, greeted Pandora and the Titans with a sour expression. “Hold your horses! I may have nine heads, but I only have two hands,” it exclaimed. “I’ll get to you in a minute.” Too bad they hadn’t gotten her sunny, smiling yellow head instead.
Several minutes later the three science partners finally had their pass and were pushing through MOA’s big bronze front doors. On the way out Pandora reached for a pair of winged sandals.
“You’ll need to put some on too,” she told the Titans. “And you’ll have to help me with mine. I’m mortal, so I can’t make the wings work on my own.”
“We can’t use the sandals either,” said Epimetheus, shaking his head. “They don’t work for Titans, only Olympians.”
“Oh,” said Pandora, “I didn’t know.” She opened the bronze door and tossed the sandals back into the basket. Then she faced the brothers again, hands on her hips. “What are we going to do, then? We can’t walk the whole way. It would take us forever to get to Earth and back.”
“No worries. We have our own way of travel,” said Prometheus.
“We call it Titan Flight,” said Epimetheus. “C’mon.” After the three of them took the granite steps down to the courtyard, he spoke to Prometheus. “Fire up, Bro. Time’s a-wasting.”
