“No way,” said Tadpole. “You saw what the Multiplier tried to do to us. What do you think BrainDrain would do?”
“Fine,” I said, letting them all see how disappointed with them I was. “I’ll go after him myself.”
I pulled out my copy of the Li’l Hero’s Handbook and looked up Professor Brain-Drain in the appendix. It said that his secret headquarters were located on the top floor of the Vertigo Building. I slammed the book shut, slipped it into my back pocket, and turned to leave the warehouse.
I only made it a few feet before I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“I’ll go with you, O Boy.”
It was Halogen Boy. That was all it took. By the time I had made my way to the door, the other three Junior Leaguers had caught up with us.
“We won’t desert you, either,” Plasma Girl said.
“You’re right. We’re either heroes or we’re not.”
Tadpole and Stench nodded in agreement. I was incredibly proud of my teammates.
Unfortunately, things were about to get more complicated.
“Do you guys see what I see?” I asked them as we stood on the street outside the Multiplier’s warehouse.
“What is it?” Tadpole asked.
“Take a look.” I nodded my head toward Lobster Boy’s bike, which was still leaning against the building.
“What about it?” said Stench. “It was there when we came in.”
“Exactly,” I said. “It was ridden down here by the mysterious person who stole the second card and sold the duplicates to our classmates—the one we overheard threatening the Multiplier. Obviously he’s still here.”
A shiver ran down our spines and we all looked around. Of course, there was no one to be seen. Whoever this stranger was, he had a remarkable ability to remain inconspicuous. Suddenly, I began to get a strong sense of who it was. I whispered in Stench’s ear.
“Go and round up some help. I think we’re going to need it,” I said. “The rest of us will go to the Vertigo Building. If we’re not waiting outside for you, come in with everything you’ve got.”
“You got it, O Boy,” he responded and headed off.
To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure how much of a threat Professor Brain-Drain would actually be. Apart from what we saw on the Amazing Indestructo’s TV show, the Professor seemed to keep a pretty low profile these days. Nevertheless, I thought it made sense to have backup in case this situation was more dangerous than I suspected. And I knew I could count on Stench.
“Let’s go, team,” I said to the rest of them, and we headed back toward downtown. I didn’t turn around to check on Lobster Boy’s bike as we left. If I had, it wouldn’t have been nearly so shocking twenty minutes later when we arrived at the entrance to the Vertigo Building and found the bike parked outside.
THE VERTIGO BUILDING
Located in the heart of the Superopolis financial district, the Vertigo Building is perfectly situated to provide office space for hundreds of criminals and accountants. Owned by the nefarious Professor Brain-Drain, it is abundantly clear how he earned at least one of his many nicknames, the Landlord of Crime. Seventy-five stories high, it is the tallest building in Superopolis.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Rising to the Challenge
“How did that get here?” Plasma Girl asked in alarm.
Sure enough, Lobster Boy’s bike was now leaning against a lamppost in front of the Vertigo Building. Only this time it had a huge padlock on it—which in this case made perfect sense. You see, the Vertigo Building is home to hundreds and hundreds of supervillains. At seventy-five stories, it’s the tallest building in Superopolis, and for some reason it became the spot of choice for villains looking for office space. Personally, if I were a supervillain, I would want something more … well … villain-ish than space in a skyscraper. But it’s probably a good thing I don’t think the same way as a criminal.
We all stared up at the enormous building. None of us had ever been this close to it before. What we saw at the top, however, confirmed that we were in the right place, for tethered to the spire of the building was the Brain-Drain Blimp.
There was an incredible amount of activity going on around the building. All over the place villains were either coming back from crimes or heading out to commit them. Of the ones returning, some were carrying items they had stolen. Others appeared empty-handed. I recognized one of them; a guy dressed in ratty-looking clothes named Mr. Rotten, whose power was to spoil anything he touched. He was running toward the entrance carrying what looked like a bag of cash, but just before he reached it, a hero called the Jackhammer came pummeling out of the sky feetfirst, knocking Mr. Rotten to the ground. The bag of cash fell open, and we saw little crumbled pieces of bills blowing away. They had already rotted to almost nothing, which I’m sure had to be pretty depressing for a villain.
As the Jackhammer wrapped up Mr. Rotten in a garbage bag to avoid touching him, the rest of the villains around the Vertigo Building scattered like cockroaches. We figured this was our chance to make our way inside.
In the lobby we found a directory that must have had two hundred names on it. First we looked under P for Professor Brain-Drain, but there was no listing. Next we tried B, but still no luck.
“Jeesh,” complained Tadpole, “what’s the point of keeping a low profile when you’ve got a blimp with your name on it tied up to the building?”
“Good point,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t matter. We know he must be on the top floor. How else could he get into the blimp?”
We hadn’t noticed, but Hal had wandered off toward a guard who was posted over in a corner of the lobby.
“Hal, stop!” Plasma Girl whispered as loudly as she could. The last thing we wanted to do was draw any attention to ourselves. But Hal didn’t hear her. He walked right up to the guard.
“Where can we find Professor Brain-Drain?” he asked innocently.
“Seventy-fifth floor, kid,” the guard said without even blinking. “Take any elevator. He’s always happy to have guests.”
As the guard said that, he started laughing in a way that made me very nervous.
Just then we heard a buzzer, and the door to one of the elevators slid open right in front of us. Sitting on a high stool by the controls was a guy with three arms. I noticed it right away, as one tends to do when encountering someone with an extra limb.
“Where to, kiddies?” he asked. Apparently he was the elevator operator.
“Seventy-fifth floor,” I said as I ushered my reluctant group inside.
“Professor Brain-Drain, huh?” he grunted. “That’s a great idea.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. But he was already pulling the door shut with one hand, punching the button for the seventy-fifth floor with the other, and pulling a lever to start the elevator rising with the third. There was a clank and a harsh metallic groan, and the cage slowly began to rise. It was not going to be a fast trip.
The elevator operator’s third hand stayed on the lever, but his other two hands were now free. One of them fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, and the other retrieved a match. He puffed a big cloud of smoke into the enclosed space of the elevator.
“Hey, that’s illegal,” Plasma Girl complained.
“Oh, no!” he said, acting nervous. “I guess that makes me a … a criminal!”
Then he burst out laughing.
I guess there’s not a whole lot you can do about someone breaking the law in a building filled with criminals. Nevertheless, the guy was really annoying us.
“Besides, if you’re so worried about your health,” he continued, “you shouldn’t be heading up to see Professor Brain-Drain.”
Then he started laughing all over again. I had to admit I was getting more and more nervous about what we were getting ourselves into. But it was too late now. We had finally reached the seventy-fifth floor and the door was opening. The operator was still laughing as we stepped off the elevator, but that stopped as Tad
pole’s tongue darted out, wrapped itself around the leg of his stool, and yanked it out from underneath him. As he tumbled onto the floor with all three of his arms flailing in the air, Tadpole retracted his tongue, and the door closed once again. The operator’s cursing faded quickly as the elevator descended.
The four of us found ourselves in an outer lobby. In front of us was a blank double door. I reached to grab one of the handles, but before I even touched it the doors swung open to reveal a person standing just inside.
“Welcome, my junior do-gooders. I’ve been expecting you.”
Even if he hadn’t looked exactly like the picture on his card, there would have been no mistaking Professor Brain-Drain this time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Brain-Drain’s Lair
I knew that we were facing the genuine Professor Brain-Drain because he looked quite a bit older than he ever did in episodes of the The Amazing Adventures of the Amazing Indestructo (and the League of Ultimate Goodness) TV show. Plus the chill in my bones told me that this was the guy. The costume, of course, was just like it was on TV and in the comic books. He had on a brilliant white lab coat that came down to just below his knees. Underneath the open coat he was dressed completely in black. And, of course, on top of his bald head, he had on his trademark steel colander. I couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if he ever took it off and used it to drain pasta.
“Welcome to my secret headquarters,” he said, smiling rather pleasantly for a criminal mastermind. “It’s always nice to have visitors—especially children. Please, come and sit down while I call for some refreshments.”
It was difficult to see his expression through the enormously thick glasses he wore, but so far, he wasn’t acting anything like an evil genius. Either he wasn’t remotely as dangerous as AI made him out to be, or he was plotting something.
As we were ushered into the heart of his lair, our eyes nearly popped out. This wasn’t just a single floor of an office building. The entire top of the skyscraper, all the way up into its spire, was completely hollow, reaching up as high as a hundred feet. At the very top were a series of catwalks that connected to a docking area for the enormous Brain-Drain blimp. A figure was moving about on the walkways, too far away to identify. My attention returned to the immediate surroundings. The entire space was jammed full of the most amazing array of machines and devices I had ever seen.
“You’re looking at a lifetime of work,” Professor Brain-Drain announced proudly as we all stared up at an enormous model of the solar system. It was actually revolving around the center of the space, apparently unconnected to anything. “Come, have a look.”
He led us past what looked like a large steam pipe organ, except in place of the pipes there were a series of fireworks rockets. The Professor saw that I was looking at it and stopped to talk about it.
“I call that my Combustible Calliope,” he said with a chuckle—not a chortle or a cackle, like on TV, but a chuckle. “So far I’ve been reluctant to play it since I fear the first time could be the last.”
“Why’s that?” asked Tadpole. “It looks pretty cool to me.”
“The problem is all the explosives,” the Professor said. “I’m convinced that they’ll add a marvelous quality to the music, but who wants to be the one to try it out?”
I could tell from the look on Tadpole’s face that he would love to try it out.
“What’s that?” Halogen Boy asked, pointing to a contraption that looked like a bicycle equipped with wings.
“Oh, that’s the Icarus III,” answered the Professor with a wry smile. “You don’t want to know what happened to the Icarus I and the Icarus II.”
By this time we had reached the middle of the expansive space and we all caught sight of an enormous machine that dominated the center of the room.
“What does that thing do?” Halogen Boy asked,
wide-eyed. From the floor all the way up into the spire of the building stood what looked like a gigantic barber pole, at least ten feet wide. As the red-, white-, and blue-striped pole slowly turned, electrical bolts and currents flashed and sparked all around the top, making it look like the pole was spiraling up through the ceiling. On the floor, a series of chairs surrounded the pole, each with a metallic dome placed above it. Each dome had something like a gauge or a clock face set into it. More than anything, they looked like hair dryers from a beauty parlor.
“That’s one of my hare-brained schemes.” The Professor laughed. “No need to concern yourself with it just yet.”
I hated to say it, but Professor Brain-Drain really seemed like a fairly nice guy. He led us into a sitting room in the corner, which had incredible views of the ocean to the east and downtown Superopolis to the north. There were also about half a dozen statues placed around the sitting room. They all looked like variations of Professor Brain-Drain himself.
“What are these statues?” I asked.
“Oh, just one of my hobbies,” the Professor responded. “I’ve been through my painting stage and my pottery stage. Now I’m trying sculpture. I’m practicing first with self-portraits.”
“They look so lifelike,” Tadpole said, poking one of them in the stomach.
“Why thank you,” the Professor said, seeming genuinely pleased as he ushered us to sit down and then took his own seat.
“First of all, what can I get you?” he asked. “I believe I have some lemonade and some homemade cookies. Does that sound suitable?”
We all nodded, confused by his hospitality.
“Excellent.” He smiled. “The refreshments should be here soon. While we wait, let’s discuss these pesky cards that seem to be causing you so much trouble.”
“So you do know about them!” I said in a more accusing tone than I intended.
“Of course I do.” The Professor smiled pleasantly. “The same way I knew you would be showing up here to discuss them with me. Here, please help yourselves to the cookies.”
I noticed that a tray of cookies and a pitcher of lemonade had just appeared on the table as if out of nowhere.
“You see,” Professor Brain-Drain continued, “I’ve had you observed since the moment you showed up at Indestructo Industries two days ago.”
“By who?” I tried to ask casually. I had suspected as much myself, but I was surprised that he would come right out and admit it.
NAME: Sneak, The. POWER: Like a chameleon, the Sneak can blend into any background. LIMITATIONS: Being difficult to see is not always an asset. As an infant his parents lost him numerous times. This may have contributed to his antisocial criminal tendencies. CAREER: Briefly attempted a legitimate career as a traffic cop with disastrous results. Turned to crime thereafter. CLASSIFICATION: As an information gatherer, the Sneak is a master.
“By me, little onesss,” a familiar voice suddenly hissed from right next to me.
I spun around and looked right at where the voice had come from. There was nobody there! And then the wall moved. Well, actually the wall didn’t move. A figure moved who was the same color and texture as the wall. He stepped away from it and stood in front of one of the windows. Within seconds, the figure began to change to a pale blue identical to the color of the sky outside the window.
“I’d like to introduce you kids to the Sneak,” Professor Brain-Drain explained as he poured each of us a glass of lemonade. “He already feels like he knows you after spending most of Monday with you on your scavenger hunt.”
“I knew it,” I shouted. “You stole the second card from us at Aunty Penny’s Arcade.”
“Exsssactly,” the ominous figure confirmed. “And I mussst give credit where credit isss due. I would not have dissscovered the card without you. I had ssspent all day hiding in the Tycoon’sss offissse without finding out where the cardsss were. Even with the clue he provided, it wasss only by following you that I wasss able to get the sssecond card. I’m very pleasssed that you were able to find the third for yourssselvesss.”
“I was most impressed, as well,” Pr
ofessor BrainDrain added as he handed around the cookie tray.
“Don’t you have any potato chips?” Tadpole asked.
I thought it was sort of impolite of him, but the Professor didn’t seem to care.
“I never touch them,” he replied. “I feel as if they numb my mind.”
We all looked at each other in astonishment. Halogen Boy, however, wasted no time in helping himself to a sugar cookie that was shaped—and frosted—to look like the Amazing Indestructo. In fact, as I glanced down at the tray, I saw they all looked like AI.
“I have an immense appreciation for intelligence,” the Professor continued as he set down the tray and picked up a cookie for himself. “I’m well aware of how rare it really is in this city,” he added, before biting the head off the AI cookie he was holding.
“That card was unbelievably valuable,” I pointed out. “How smart was it to make more of them?”
“Yes, yes, I know,” the Professor said, waving about the headless cookie. “But some things are more important than money—things such as self-respect.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! What kind of a crook talks like that?
“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. I own this entire skyscraper, after all.”
“So why did you have the Multiplier create all these duplicates? And how were you able to increase his power?”
“I am a genius,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I’ve been working on a device for quite some time that would enhance the power of anyone who used it. I gave a small handheld prototype of it to the Multiplier as a test—which just goes to show that even geniuses can make mistakes.”
“He’s not very bright,” Halogen Boy added. “Did you drain his brain?”
“Well, truth be told, there really wasn’t much there to drain,” said the Professor with a grandfatherly laugh. “But I did take what little I could.”
The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy, Book One: The Hero Revealed Page 12
