The Octopus Effect

by Michael Reisman

  “And I know I’m not imagining you three intruders in our domain,” the other, shorter man said in a harsh voice.

  “I am getting so tired of being right,” Owen grumbled.

  CHAPTER 16

  BIG TROUBLE BY THE LITTLE PUDDLE

  Simon and his friends stared silently at the three adults facing them. They looked like they were in their early- to mid-twenties. They also looked very upset.

  “Well?” the angry man demanded. He was thin and pale with a shaved-bald head.

  “Please, it’s not what you think,” Simon said, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “We’re supposed to be here.”

  The woman swept her dyed black hair from where it covered her large blue eyes. “Outsiders? Supposed to be here? Don’t think so. And what’s with attacking Cassaro?”

  “It-was-an-accident-we-swear!” Owen said.

  “Yeah, and we’re not Outsiders,” Alysha added. “We’re in the Order of Physics.”

  The thin, bald man glared. “We heard there was trouble with your Order months ago.” He concentrated, and the air around him shimmered. Within seconds, his whole body was covered by dark gray armor that made him several feet taller and much more massive. There were lighter, different-textured areas at his elbows, knees, shoulders, hips, and neck—all places that needed to be flexible. The armor over his face was almost featureless, like a huge gray helmet, but with black, bulbous eyes.

  “Ewww,” Alysha said with a shudder. “What’s he supposed to be, a giant bug-man? I hate bugs!”

  “Oh, Simon,” Owen grumbled, “what did you get us into now?” He spoke his own formula and concentrated on the rocky trail. Six fist-size stones streaked up into the air, swooping and swirling in a steady, fluid formation between Owen and the three Biology members. He was ready to launch them at the adults if they got hostile.

  “Hold on!” Simon shouted. “We’re not here to fight! Gilio asked us to come!”

  Cassaro shook his head. “Not buying it, fella. If you were here for a nice visit, what would shorty over there be doing with those rocks?”

  Simon shook his head, but before he could say anything, the armored man nodded to the black-haired woman. “Targa, zap him!” he said, his voice booming out.

  The woman scrunched her face up and gestured at Simon. He staggered, suddenly sluggish, and dropped to his knees. It was all he could do not to pass out.

  “Whuuuut . . .” Simon slurred. “Whut . . . did . . . yuuu . . . do?”

  Targa punched a fist into the air. “Totally messed you up, that’s what! Try to fight us with your adrenaline levels all the way down. That’s how I roll!”

  “Leave him alone!” Owen yelled. He sent the rocks hurtling toward Targa, but the armored man leaped in front of her. The stones bounced harmlessly off his gray shell.

  Cassaro laughed. “It’ll take more than rocks to get through Kender’s exoskeleton. Here, have some of these!” The tall man puffed out his cheeks and spat out a cloud of tiny, almost invisible, dots.

  Owen launched more rocks at the center of the cloud, knocking away most of the gnat-size dots to land on the ground around him. A few got onto his clothes, though.

  “Were those more bugs?” Alysha asked, scanning the ground in horror.

  The dots, actually called spores, were a lot nastier than bugs. Or dots, for that matter. While I’m no expert on them, I know they’re how fungi reproduce. Fungi, as in multiple of fungus, as in . . .

  The spores in the grass started growing at an accelerated rate, each one becoming a different-colored mushroom. “Okay, that’s gross.” Alysha said. “But better than bugs.”

  The few that had landed on Owen started to grow, too. They weren’t developing as quickly as the ones on the grass, probably because Owen’s clothing was less nutritious than soil, but they were still growing at an unnatural speed.

  “Ahhh!” Owen screamed. “Get them off me!” The mushrooms kept expanding; the ones on the ground were already several feet high while the fungi on him—one on one sleeve, one on a pants leg, and one on the stomach area of his T-shirt—were already the size of small cats.

  “First, the giant roach,” Alysha said. She took a handful of coins from her pocket, filled them with electrical charge, and whipped them at Kender and his friends.

  Targa and Cassaro dodged the attack but were flung to the ground when the coins blew up. Kender, confident in his shell’s protection, didn’t move. The coins exploded against his armor, gouging holes out of it and knocking him onto his back.

  Alysha rushed to Owen’s side. “Okay, this might hurt,” she said.

  Owen closed his eyes and braced himself as Alysha reached for the mushroom on Owen’s sleeve. She discharged more stored-up electricity with a bluish spark and a loud zzzap; the mushroom turned black, shriveled, and fell to the ground.

  “I think my arm’s gone numb,” Owen moaned.

  “Stop whining and stand still,” Alysha said; she didn’t want to risk Owen moving and getting a shock. In seconds she’d burned the other mushrooms off. Owen smacked at his clothes to knock the charred remnants away.

  Targa, Cassaro, and Kender rose to their feet. “That’s a nice trick,” Targa said. “But try pulling it after I’m through with you!” She pointed her finger at Alysha.

  For long moments, Simon had been barely aware of what was happening . . . his vision was blurred and everything sounded as if he were underwater. But when Targa was knocked to the ground, Simon felt a bit more self-control creep back to him.

  What do I do? he thought to himself. How can I possibly fight this? Squinting, he saw Targa taking aim at Alysha. That did it for him—he shoved his fear and exhaustion aside and let his anger surge forward. Anger, and the need to save his friends.

  With great effort, Simon concentrated on the adults. Even with his mind sludging along at the speed of molasses, he was able to trigger his oldest, best power. The Biology members were suddenly hit by staggering weight as the gravitational pull on them was tripled. They collapsed to the ground with yelps and groans.

  Simon felt better instantly, the exhaustion torn away like a blanket yanked off.

  “You’re okay!” Alysha said.

  Simon nodded and got to his feet. “Getting there. How are you guys?”

  Before they could respond, Kender slowly rose from the ground.

  “How?” Simon gasped, taking a step back.

  “That’s the beauty of an exoskeleton,” Kender said. “Augmented strength.”

  “You’re going to need it, Beetle-face,” Alysha said. “It’s three against one now.” She held up her fists, knuckles out, and let a jagged burst of electricity arc back and forth between them. Owen nodded, forming more stones into large, tightly balled clusters and raising them up in front of him.

  A loud chirping cut through the air, and to everyone’s surprise, a brown-and-white sparrow swooped between Kender and the kids.

  The bird landed on the grass, flickered, trembled, and distorted until it morphed into a skinny, brown-haired man.

  “Flangelo!” the kids shouted in unison.

  “Stop fighting!” he cried out in his musical, almost sing songy way. “Kender, they’re not enemies. And kids, stop beating people up! It’s no way to greet strangers.”

  “They started it!” Owen shouted. “We were just protecting ourselves.”

  Kender stomped forward, each triple-weighted step making a three-inch-deep footprint in the ground. “They attacked Cassaro and were rude.”

  “And I’m sure you were an absolute angel to them,” Flangelo said. “Trust me, Gilio invited them here for a reason, and he won’t appreciate you hurting them.”

  Alysha snorted. “Hurting us? Look who’s winning.”

  “Okay, I’m going to let those two up,” Simon said. “But if any of you attack again,” he said to the Biology members, “I’ll make you weigh six times normal. More for you,” he said to Kender. He gestured, restoring the gravity to normal.

  Targa b
arely moved. “Trust me,” she groaned, “I’m just going to lie here and ache for a while.” She nodded weakly at Flangelo. “And who are you supposed to be?”

  “He’s in Animal Diversity with me,” Kender said. He turned to Flangelo. “You’d better be right about these kids. You know how hard it is for me to molt and grow another shell.”

  “Yes,” Flangelo said with a weary glance skyward, “we’re all so concerned. Get it through your chitin skull, Kender. They’re friends—back off.”

  Kender spoke a few words, and his human form stepped backward out of the massive exoskeleton. Then he spoke a few more words and poked the empty shell with a finger. It started to dissolve; within seconds, it was gone.

  Cassaro struggled to rise to a sitting position. “Friends or not, they’re sure tough. What was that you got us with?”

  Simon shrugged self-consciously. “Gravity.”

  “Okay, okay, there’ll be plenty of time to chitchat at the inter-Order picnic,” Flangelo said, tugging on Simon’s arm to drag him away. “Important business, now.” Flangelo also grabbed Owen’s arm and shouted, “Come on, spark plug, let’s go.”

  “Wait!” Targa shouted. “Flatulo, or whatever your name is . . . what’s the deal?”

  “Love to stay,” Flangelo chirped, “but these three have an appointment to keep and we’re oh-so-late.” He pulled the kids out of sight. “What’s the matter with you?” he scolded them. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? Can’t you read messages in the sand, or is WAIT HERE too complicated?”

  “Yeah, it’s nice to see you again, too,” Owen said.

  “Why are you yelling at us?” Alysha shouted. “If you were supposed to meet us, then you screwed up!”

  Flangelo shook his head. “What, I’m not allowed to go to the bathroom?”

  “We almost got killed because you couldn’t hold it?” Owen asked.

  Simon, Alysha, and Owen broke into laughter as they hurried along.

  CHAPTER 17

  SOME FISH DO NEED BICYCLES

  Flangelo led them back the way they came.

  “Where are we going?” Alysha demanded as she was pulled along.

  “To Gilio’s,” Flangelo warbled. “But I have to take you back to that entrance, because that’s the fastest way I know to get to him. When he finds out what happened . . .” He shook his head.

  Alysha pulled out of Flangelo’s grasp. “Fine, but enough with the dragging!”

  “Yeah,” Owen said. “It’s bad enough I had giant mushrooms on me!”

  Flangelo dropped Owen’s arm as if it were covered in dead fish or, more accurately, burned mushroom. “You could have told me.” He stared at his hand. “Fungus . . . I’ll be washing this hand for a week.”

  “Okay, Flangelo,” Simon said, “you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “Like how did we even get here?” Alysha asked.

  “Yeah,” Owen said. “One minute we’re at the Jersey shore or something and the next there’s a huge wave and sploosh!”

  “Oh, that’s Gilio’s fancy entrance system. He’s very cautious about who he lets into his home, you see.” Flangelo let out a whistle-laugh. “He’s got all sorts of ways to keep Outsiders from coming around here or noticing anything unusual.”

  Alysha shrugged. “Sure. That’s what they said about Dunkerhook Woods, but look how that went with Simon.”

  Flangelo shook his head. “Well, there’s no Breeze to invite people into our domain. And that’s not New Jersey up there; I don’t know where it is. The whole place moves—Gilio designed it to relocate regularly. Even Council members need Gilio’s approval to have Gateways take them to the nearest beach, and then they still need the vesicle to bring them in.”

  “The what?” Alysha asked.

  “That bubble that was your chariot,” Flangelo said.

  As they walked and talked, the grass beneath their feet gave way to sand again.

  “So all the Biology members have to go through that each time they want to come to meet?” Owen asked. “Seems like an awful lot of work. And dangerous, too.”

  “It’s at least as safe as the Gateway system.” He paused. “Which probably terrifies you, too, doesn’t it, little lion-heart?”

  Owen made a “sort-of” gesture with his hand.

  “As for the coming and going,” Flangelo said, “it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think. Most of us live here.”

  “I thought Union members go around as teachers to help Outsiders discover stuff,” Alysha said. “How does that work if you’re all down here playing Atlantis and the rest of the world doesn’t even know you exist?”

  Owen gasped. “Is this Atlantis?”

  Flangelo whistle-laughed. “No, but that’s a funny story. Supposedly, a couple of guys in Physics were trying to impress a woman in another Order and . . . well . . . good-bye, continent, hello, annoying legend.”

  Simon pointed to a stretch of coral reef and the dome outline beside it. “That’s where we came in. Do you think Sirabetta came through here, too?”

  “Is that what this visit’s about? That witch is back?” Flangelo warbled. “Wonderful. I’m pretty sure she didn’t come through here, though.”

  “Why’s that?” Alysha asked.

  “Even if she managed to find this place and get past the protective formulas, she’d have been spotted by the guards. At the very least, they’d have told me about it.”

  “I hate to argue—” Alysha said.

  Before she could finish, Flangelo fake-whispered, “Not likely.”

  Alysha rolled her eyes. “There were no guards when your vesicle-thingie brought us,” she continued. “Maybe the same thing happened with Sirabetta?”

  “No guard?” Flangelo chirped. “Oh, Phineas, care to meet our little guests?”

  One of the fish from the reef came toward the dome wall. It was the red-and-white-spined fish that approached when Simon and his friends first arrived. As the kids stared, it swam straight for a spot on the dome a few feet above the ground.

  Simon winced, expecting it to smack into the barrier. Instead, the fish plowed through without slowing down, bringing a beach ball-size globe of water into the dome with it. The aqueous ball separated from the dome and dropped to the sandy floor. The fish was entirely covered in this bizarre, reverse submarine.

  Flangelo applauded lightly. “Good trick, isn’t it? Every living organism is made of cells, and every cell uses something called active transport to take food or other objects in or out. Gilio designed the dome to work like a giant cell, complete with certain active transport sites. Ocean folk like Phineas get water-filled vesicles that let them move around in the dome’s atmosphere. Air-dependent Order members get air-filled vesicles so they can go out among the fish. And you three get an express vesicle from the beach to this dome, with water jets propelling you at an extreme speed.”

  The water around Phineas shimmered. The bubble expanded around the fish’s various spines and bristles, forming thin arms and legs. The fish lifted its water-sphere—its vesicle—off the sandy floor and walked over to them.

  Flangelo gestured. “Simon Bloom, Owen Walters, Alysha Davis, meet Phineas. He’s a lionfish and one of our best guards.”

  Simon reached out with one hand, anxious to see what the water-vesicle felt like.

  Flangelo’s hand whipped out and firmly grabbed Simon’s arm. “Not a good idea, Captain Gravity.” He gestured to the watery limbs. “The vesicle-formula lets him make those pseudopods: temporary, fake limbs so he doesn’t have to roll around in here. But those spines? Poisonous. There’s plenty of surface tension around each vesicle to keep the traveler pressurized and breathing properly, but if you pressed too hard on Phineas’s . . . let’s just say your mission would be over real quick.”

  Simon nodded and waved to Phineas. “Hi, there.” Alysha and Owen took several steps back at the mention of poisonous spines and waved, too.

  Phineas’s wide mouth barely moved, but one of the bristle-ps
eudopods waved. “Likewise,” he said in a gurgly voice.

  “You can talk!” Owen gasped.

  Phineas nodded—awkwardly, considering he had no neck; it was more like bowing his entire body. “Another of Keeper Gilio’s great works.” His voice was slightly muffled from going through water and air.

  Flangelo shrugged. “The Craftsmen’s Guild and your dear Order of Physics probably helped Gilio with that, not that he’d admit it. Gilio likes to take all the credit.”

  “Back to the deal with Phineas, though . . .” Alysha said.

  “He’s one of many ocean recruits watching the active transport sites,” Flangelo said.

  Phineas performed another full-body nod. “No sign of anyone during my watch, nor any report from those before me. And if I do spot anyone, I will stop them.” The lionfish gestured with a pseudopod to the kids. “I am quite agile on these. Though I’m waiting for Keeper Gilio and his wondrous Craftsmen to make a faster vehicle.”

  Flangelo whistle-laughed. “Like a bicycle!” There was no reaction from the others. “Never mind,” he said with a warble. “We’d better get going, Phineas.”

  “Good-bye, friends of the Order,” Phineas burbled, and then he strode back to the dome. His water-vesicle, legs and all, merged back into the barrier, and he swam away casually, if such a thing is possible, to resume his sentry position.

  “See?” Flangelo said as he led the kids in a new direction. “Nobody saw anything, so you can breathe easier; I’ll bet that bleach-blonde isn’t even coming here.”

  Simon and his friends exchanged a look: they were not convinced. And if Flangelo was wrong, where in the dome was Sirabetta?

  CHAPTER 18

  BRING ON THE BAD GUYS . . .

  In a distant region of the dome, there was a segment of coral that was bleached white: dead. Something—or someone—had killed off that region, so no fish swam by it. No anemones clung to it. No crabs or shrimp scuttled along it. As you might guess, there were no aquatic guards patrolling that area, either.

  Oceans creatures are often on the move, however. That’s why nothing seemed odd about the manta ray. If you’ve never seen a manta ray, I highly recommend it—they’re beautiful and elegant. And big—that’s important. They resemble undersea stealth bombers: black (mostly), almost flat, and wide with huge fins—like wings—for soaring through the water.