Contents
Chapter 1Weird Science
Chapter 2Gadgets, Gizmos and Glitches
Chapter 3Roboflop
Chapter 4Heads You Lose
Chapter 5A Touch of Wind
Chapter 6Happy Landings
Chapter 7Eggy
Chapter 8Summer Craze
Chapter 9Evil Ultimatums
Chapter 10Doomsday
Chapter 11Battle Royal
Chapter 12One is Thanked
At Mighty High it was the summer term and the students were busy at work in the science lab. Among them were Stan, Miles, Minnie and Pudding the Wonderdog, the four members of
the Invincibles.
Every year the Dame Dorothy Wingnut Prize for Science was presented to the pupil who came up with the most original scientific invention.
In any ordinary school this might have resulted in a glut of pencil sharpeners or novelty lunch boxes, but this was Mighty High – the school for young superheroes – so the gadgets were of a different order altogether. Stan’s classmates were working on fireproof capes, silent shoes and hamster-tracking devices. Stan had never won a science prize – in fact, he’d never won anything unless you counted a goldfish at the fair.
‘There,’ he said, tightening a screw and trying on his invention. ‘What do you think?’
Pudding cocked his head on one side. Minnie frowned.
‘A pair of glasses,’ she said. ‘What’s original about that?’
‘Ah,’ said Stan. ‘But say you’re wearing your glasses and it starts to rain.’
‘I don’t wear glasses,’ objected Minnie.
‘Yes, but say you did,’ Stan continued.
‘Then all you have to do is press this tiny button and …’
Minnie rolled her eyes. ‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘Glasses with windscreen wipers?’
‘Brilliant, eh?’ said Stan. ‘Perfect for flying in the rain. And check this out, they’ve got two speeds: fast and superfast.’
He pushed the button again and the tiny wipers zipped back and forth in a blur of speed. Stan turned them off.
‘Clever AND original,’ he said modestly. ‘Especially if you happen to wear glasses.’
‘Which I don’t,’ repeated Minnie. ‘How many superheroes can you name who wear glasses?’
‘Well, Miles, for one,’ said Stan. ‘He’s not a superhero yet but he will be one day. Where’s he gone, anyway?’
They found Miles in another corner of the science lab, putting the finishing touches to a pair of gloves. They looked like fairly ordinary gloves except that they were made of unusual shiny material that glittered like frost.
‘What’s this then – posh oven gloves?’ asked Stan.
‘Very funny,’ said Miles. ‘Try them on.’
Stan did as he was asked.
‘How do they feel?’ asked Miles.
‘A bit too big,’ said Stan. ‘They’re not exactly super-stylish, are they?’
‘That’s not the point,’ said Miles. ‘It’s what they do that counts.’
‘What do they do?’ asked Minnie.
‘They’re magnetic,’ Miles informed them.
‘I call them Mega Gloves. There are a million magnetic microfibres in there so tiny that they’re invisible to the naked eye.’
Stan raised his eyebrows. Miles’s superhero name was Brainiac but even so, this sounded a bit far-fetched. Stan wiggled his fingers.
‘So, how do they work?’ he asked.
Suddenly, something shot off a desk and attached itself to the Mega Gloves. It was a paper clip. A moment later it was joined by a screwdriver, a pair of scissors and the name tag from Pudding’s collar. In a few seconds the Mega Gloves were covered in metal objects.
‘You’re not kidding!’ gasped Minnie. ‘They are magnetic!’
‘Of course they are,’ said Miles. ‘Say someone’s pointing a laser gun. You could disarm them.’
‘Magnetic gloves?’ sneered a voice. ‘How original!’
They all turned to see Norris Trimble, wearing his thick glasses and usual smug expression. Norris was probably the weediest boy in the school. He came over dizzy if he stood on a chair. On the other hand he was a science genius who wore his own white coat to lessons. For weeks Norris had been staying behind after school to work on some kind of secret project.
Miles glared at him. ‘What’s it got to do with you, Norris?’ he demanded.
‘I just wouldn’t want you to waste your time,’ said Norris. ‘You’re hardly going to win with a pair of oven gloves.’
‘Mega Gloves,’ corrected Miles.
‘Whatever,’ said Norris.
‘And what’s your brilliant invention, Norris?’ asked Minnie.
Norris tapped his nose. ‘Ah, that would be telling,’ he smirked. ‘Wait until tomorrow when they announce who’s won!’
They watched him go. Stan sighed. ‘He can be really annoying sometimes,’ he said.
‘What do you mean sometimes?’ asked Miles.
They were interrupted by the arrival of their head teacher. Miss Marbles clapped her hands to get their attention.
‘Now, as you know, tomorrow we’re holding the Science Awards,’ she said. ‘We shall be selecting three finalists who will compete for the award. And this year I’m delighted to say we have a very special guest to present the prize – a celebrity, in fact!’
A buzz of excitement ran round the room. Who did Miss Marbles have in mind? Maybe it was a famous footballer or a glamorous film star? Stan wondered if it could even be Captain Courageous, probably the most famous superhero on the planet and the face of Titan Shampoo for Men.
Miss Marbles waited for quiet.
‘You’re very lucky that our Science Prize will be presented this year … by Dennis Trigg.’
Dennis Trigg? Stan and his friends looked at each other, mystified.
‘You know, Dennis Trigg! He used to do the weather forecast on TV,’ said Miss Marbles.
Stan rolled his eyes. A weatherman? He’d been expecting someone who was actually famous. Stan never understood why his parents watched the weather forecast every night without fail. It had to be the most boring programme on television!
Miss Marbles had pulled down a screen and was showing them a TV clip she’d found on the internet. A man in a grey suit and tie was reading the weather forecast in a voice that was duller than a cloudy day in Cleethorpes.
… And tomorrow another dry day with a few fog patches which will clear away during the morning …
Miss Marbles zapped off the TV screen and turned back to the class.
‘There you are – Dennis Trigg!’ she said.
But no one was listening because they were all slumped face down on their desks.
In days gone by, a superhero arrived on the scene armed only with brute strength, quick reactions and limited intelligence. But times have changed. These days, crime fighters often have more gadgets than a space station.
Here are a few examples from the gallery of gizmos:
1. HOVER BOOTS
Because why walk when you can make like a hovercraft.
2. INFLATISUIT
Are you small, skinny or weedy? Do villains kick sand in your face? No problem – just inflate this suit for instant superhero muscles.
3. UTILITY BELT
For those pesky missions when you don’t know what to expect.
4. SMOKESCREEN CHEWING GUM
In a tight corner? Smokescreen gum covers any sticky situation.
5. DEATH STARE GLASSES
With these specs, no one will call you four eyes ever again.
Stan sat in the school hall, fiddling with his rainproof glasses. The judges – Miss Marbles, Professor Bird and Miss S
titch – had already made their inspection of the children’s projects and now the head teacher was about to announce the names of the three finalists.
Stan had a feeling his chances of winning were slim. Miss Marbles’ verdict on his invention had been something like ‘Hmm, very nice, Stanley’, which hardly qualified as wild enthusiasm. Minnie’s Xtra-Stretch Dog Lead had caught Miss Stitch’s attention, but she had pointed out that it was aimed more at dog owners than superheroes.
Miss Marbles came on stage along with a man wearing a baggy grey suit and a terrible tie. Stan recognised him as Dennis Trigg, the former weatherman and special guest. He didn’t look like a man who was mobbed by autograph hunters everywhere he went.
Miss Marbles searched for her reading glasses and located them on her head. She smiled.
‘Well, the judges have been tremendously impressed by the sheer variety of your ideas,’ she said. ‘But we have to find a winner, so we’ve narrowed it down to our three finalists who now have a chance to show us their projects. So, the first up is Tabitha Spinks.’
Tabitha Spinks, a girl with wild curly hair, bounded on to the stage.
‘My invention is the Exploding Pencil,’ she announced.
Miles rolled his eyes, but Stan sat forward. This ought to be worth watching.
‘You can use my pencil in any situation,’ Tabitha explained. ‘If you need to escape by blowing a hole in a wall for instance. All you do is press the button on the end like this, then stand well back and wait.’
She set the pencil down and quickly withdrew to the side. Miss Marbles and the others on stage crouched down, plugging their fingers in their ears. Tabitha began a countdown as her schoolmates joined in …
Nothing.
‘Oh,’ said Tabitha. ‘Um.’
Miss Marbles came forward cautiously. ‘Thank you, Tabitha, it’s a lovely idea, but perhaps it needs a little more work,’ she said. Slightly crestfallen, Tabitha pocketed the pencil and was about to leave the stage when ...
The audience burst into applause.
Stan noticed that Dennis Trigg was looking rather baffled. No one had explained to him that Mighty High was a school for junior superheroes. He was probably wondering why the pupils were allowed to experiment with exploding pencils.
Miss Marbles moved on quickly. ‘So, let’s welcome our next finalist. Where is Miles?’
Miles blinked in surprise. Stan thumped him on the back.
‘Wish me luck,’ muttered Miles.
He climbed on to the stage and went to the microphone.
‘This is my science project. They’re called Mega Gloves,’ he told the audience, holding them up. ‘They may look like ordinary gloves but in fact they contain millions of magnetic microfibres …’
His audience looked impressed, mainly because they had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Maybe it’s best if I show you,’ said Miles.
‘Imagine I’m locked in a locked room and the key is out of reach.’ He placed a key on the small table beside Dennis Trigg and took a few steps back.
Wearing the Mega Gloves he stretched out his hands. Immediately the key zipped across the stage and shot into his hand.
Unfortunately Miles hadn’t considered that there might be other metal objects on the stage – Miss Marbles’ glasses, the Science Award Trophy and the buckle on Dennis Trigg’s belt, to name a few. All of these things obeyed the pull of Miles’s magnetic gloves and zoomed into his hands.
There was an awkward silence as Miles returned the objects to their owners. As he left the stage, only Stan and Minnie clapped.
‘Well, that went well,’ said Stan as Miles sat down.
‘It just needs a few adjustments,’ muttered Miles. ‘The magnetism is more powerful than I thought.’
There was one last finalist to come and to nobody’s real surprise it was Norris Trimble. He took to the stage, wearing his white lab coat and protective goggles, which made him look even more like a mad professor than usual. His science project was draped in a white sheet.
‘OK, listen up, peabrains,’ he said. ‘I’ll try to make this easy for you to understand. My invention is called … ALBOT!’ He whipped off the white sheet.
Dennis Trigg suddenly sat forward, paying attention. He certainly hadn’t expected a robot.
Norris switched it on and the robot clicked and whirred, swivelling his head to face the audience. Norris smiled.
‘Ask him a question,’ he said.
‘Very well,’ said Miss Marbles. ‘What’s the name of my cat?’
Norris rolled his eyes.
‘I meant a scientific question,’ he said. ‘Albot is programmed to calculate meteorological changes.’
‘Come again?’ said Miss Marbles.
‘He can tell you the weather – and he’s never wrong,’ said Norris.
Dennis Trigg rose from his seat. The weather was his area of expertise after all.
‘Let’s start with something simple – what will the weather be at 2.35 p.m. precisely?’ he asked.
Stan glanced at the clock which stood at 2.30 p.m. Norris repeated the question. Albot whirred as lights blinked on and off in his head. He spoke in a harsh, electronic voice.
Stan looked out of the window. Outside, the sky was a brilliant blue and rainfall seemed about as likely as a plague of frogs. There was a long silence while everyone waited expectantly. Nothing happened, apart from Norris losing his smug smile. Miss Marbles stepped forward and spoke.
‘Well, thank you, Norris, a talking robot is very clever but it’s probably wiser to leave weather forecasting to ...’
RUMBLE, RUMBLE …
Her words were drowned out by a deafening roll of thunder. Seconds later, rain fell hammering against the window like giant hailstones.
As quickly as it had started, the rain stopped. Stan glanced at the hall clock – the downpour had happened at precisely 2.35 p.m.
Dennis Trigg had turned pale.
‘But that’s ... that’s impossible,’ he stammered.
‘Told you,’ said Norris triumphantly. ‘Albot is never wrong, and that’s only a fraction of what he can do.’
‘Thank you, I think that will do for now,’ said Miss Marbles. She announced that the judges would retire for a few minutes to decide on the winner. Stan looked at Miles and Minnie.
‘That was insane!’ he said. ‘How did Norris do it?’
Miles shrugged. ‘It’s obviously a trick,’ he said. ‘He probably looked up the weather forecast beforehand.’
‘Even so, the rain started right on time,’ said Minnie.
‘If it was rain,’ said Miles. ‘Maybe someone’s on the roof emptying buckets of water?’
It didn’t seem likely. When Stan really thought about it, the only explanation he could see was that Norris’s pet robot had done what he claimed. But that was impossible. No one could predict the weather to the exact minute.
Miss Marbles and Dennis Trigg were back on stage. In his hands, Dennis held the Science Award Trophy.
‘I am proud to announce the winner of the Dame Dorothy Wingnut Prize for Science,’ he said. ‘This year the award goes to ... Norris Trimble.’
Miles let out a groan of disappointment.
‘Never mind. At least you came close,’ said Minnie.
Miles shook his head. ‘A tinpot robot that predicts the weather?’ he said. ‘I mean, it’s hardly going to change the world, is it?’
‘Probably not,’ agreed Stan, although as he spoke he scratched his right ear. He’d earned his nickname Dangerboy because his ears tingled whenever danger was in the air. Worryingly, they were tingling right now.
Later that afternoon, Norris Trimble wheeled Albot down the corridor. In his pocket he had the book token he’d got for winning the Science Prize and he was wondering how to spend it. Maybe on 101 Science Projects for Junior Geniuses, a book he’d had his eye on for some time. As he passed the science lab, he noticed someone had left a light on.
‘Hello? Anyone h
ere?’ he called out. The next thing he knew someone grabbed him, pulled him inside and slammed the door shut.
He was shoved roughly into a chair and found a desk lamp shining in his eyes. A figure stepped out in front of him.
‘Mr Trigg!’ gasped Norris.
‘Hello, Norris,’ smiled Dennis Trigg. ‘I thought we’d have a quiet little chat, just you and me.’
‘But I’m supposed to be back in lessons,’ protested Norris.
‘Don’t worry, this won’t take long,’ said Trigg. ‘So tell me, how did you do it?’
‘Do what?’ asked Norris.
‘Don’t give me that, the trick with the rain,’ snapped Trigg.
‘It wasn’t a trick,’ said Norris.
Trigg’s small moustache twitched with impatience. He leaned in closer. Norris could smell egg on his breath.
‘You’re telling me that your robot can predict the weather, to the exact second?’ he said.
‘Well, no, not predict,’ admitted Norris. ‘As any fool knows, weather forecasting isn’t an exact science. I decided to take out the uncertainty by programming Albot to change the weather.’
Trigg’s eyes narrowed.
‘Change? You don’t mean … control it?’ he frowned.
‘Yes, exactly,’ said Norris. He wondered what Trigg was after – possibly his book token. The TV weatherman had a wild look in his eye.
‘This is incredible,’ said Trigg. ‘Explain, boy. How does it work?’
Norris sat forward. ‘Well, first I installed a D4 hypersonic transmitter…’
‘Yes, yes, spare me the technical drivel,’ interrupted Trigg. ‘I mean what does it DO?’
‘Well, the transmitter sends a signal into the atmosphere,’ explained Norris. ‘It can alter the weather any way you like. Rain, ice, snow – anything at all.’
Thunderbot's Day of Doom Page 1
