The Octopus Effect

by Michael Reisman

  Gilio stared along the line of Simon’s wavering finger. “Hmm. Lots of ground to cover that way,” Gilio said. “First, desert. Then, depending on which way you veer, either there’s dry, wintry savannah, or wetlands. After that, you’ve got more possibilities.” He pointed to one direction. “If you angle that way, you get taiga, tundra, and mountain regions. Evergreens and snow leading to extreme cold and barren land with little life.”

  Simon pointed in a slightly different direction. “It’s more like that way.”

  “Ah,” Gilio said. “Wetlands, then a wide expanse of rain forest. Jungle.”

  “Wonderful,” Flangelo said with a shake of his head.

  “It’s better than going back to Savannah,” Owen said.

  “A savannah,” Flangelo said. “Not Georgia, remember?”

  “Whatever, as long as we don’t see any more Komodo dragons,” Alysha said.

  Gilio nodded. “You should be fine. While you’re doing that, I’ll send word to certain Order members and animals in the dome that I trust. I’ll check in every direction in case your extra sense is wrong, Bloom. I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “That’s gross!” Owen said.

  “I mean spies,” Gilio said. “If they’ve seen or heard anything unusual, I’ll send a messenger-bird to you. Flangelo can understand and speak to them.”

  “Meanwhile, we follow Flangelo?” Alysha asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Flangelo trilled.

  Gilio looked Simon, Owen, and Alysha in the eyes. It wasn’t hard—he wasn’t very tall. “The camouflage works better when you’re not in bright lights. Also, I wouldn’t talk to anyone. Or get in anyone’s—or any thing’s—way.” He frowned. “Flangelo, keep them in the air as much as possible, okay?”

  Alysha chuckled. “Nice pep talk, thanks.”

  Gilio took off his glasses and cleaned them. “Bloom, a word, please?” Simon and he stepped away from the others. “There are definitely strange things afoot, and I don’t like it. Frankly, the Board must be having a fit—I’m surprised they haven’t stepped in yet.” He paused. “They must know something , and yet . . .” He shook his head. “In any event, your friends are going to need you to guide them. You’re all very capable, but you are their leader. Keep your wits about you, be prepared for anything. And please,” he said, looking away for a moment, “please be careful.”

  Simon nodded awkwardly—he was touched by Gilio’s words, but he wasn’t enjoying being reminded of how much responsibility he was carrying. He followed Gilio back to the others. “Ready?” Simon asked. They nodded. “Owen, do your thing.”

  Owen took Simon’s and Alysha’s hands, then triggered his octopus ability. With a mental command, he spread his chromatophores out to Simon and Alysha. A wave of color swept over them so they matched the appearance and texture of the dirt and air around them.

  It was impressive and, I have to admit, a challenge to my narrating ability. I knew Simon and his friends were there and I knew they couldn’t see one another. I could detect their feelings and surface thoughts, and I could sense a few things about them; for example, Owen’s shoelaces were untied. As far as my eyes—watching them on my Viewing Screen—were concerned, though, the three kids had disappeared. As long as they kept physical contact with Owen, they, too, would be flawlessly camouflaged.

  Simon eliminated their gravity to make them weightless, and Owen used velocity to raise them off the ground.

  “Okay, Flangelo,” Simon said. “You take the lead and we’ll fly right behind you. I’ll let you know if we need to change direction or if we start to get separated. Don’t worry that you can’t see us; you’ll be able to hear us just fine.”

  “Lucky me,” Flangelo warbled.

  And with that, he turned into his sparrow form and took to the air followed by a perfectly camouflaged trio of youths. They soared off the mountaintop and swooped toward the ground. Flangelo flew as hard and as fast as he could, flapping his wings with all his might. Owen had no trouble keeping up; no matter how fast Flangelo went, Owen was moving at the speed of speed itself. He could go as fast as he wanted.

  The first ecosystem they had to cross was the desert that surrounded Gilio’s mountain. It’s widely known that deserts are not fun to be in or, more to the point, to cross. They’re dry and sandy with dunes, which are basically hills and valleys made of—you guessed it—sand. There are also long stretches of barren rock, which aren’t much more fun than the dunes, but at least they’re generally less sandy.

  It was relatively dark for the first hour or so, and so the temperature was cool . . . even cold. As daybreak arrived, that changed. Whatever methods Gilio had used in designing the dome worked incredibly well—it really seemed as if the sun were rising. The air got steadily warmer until it became almost stifling. Flying became a lot less fun.

  The heat and dryness made it, well, dry and hot, and the air that whipped past them (or, to be more accurate, that they whipped through) stung their faces. The sand occasionally blowing in their eyes, noses, and mouths didn’t sweeten the experience either. At least Simon managed to lessen their friction with the air (called drag), so much of the stinging sand and air went around them.

  Cruising over the desert, they saw a lot of spiny cacti in a variety of shapes, and the occasional desert animal. These weren’t terribly exciting to look at, though. Scorpions scuttled, tarantulas crawled, snakes slithered, kangaroo rats hopped, lizards . . . crawled, too. (There are only so many verbs to describe that motion.) Hawks soared above; on occasion they circled, swooped down, and ate some unfortunate critter that wasn’t scuttling, crawling, slithering, hopping, or crawling fast enough.

  After seemingly endless hours, Simon could see the terrain starting to change. The way it felt to Simon’s space-time sense, they’d be going across the wetlands and then the tropical rain forest. And that’s where he hoped—and feared—they’d find the object of their quest.

  CHAPTER 27

  OUT OF THE DRYING LAND AND INTO THE MIRE

  The sand and rock gave way to hard, dry dirt. They flew over a few teleporting pools and a handful of structures that looked like mud huts. I felt a swell of pity for whomever used them. If you had to live in the desert—and I think I’ve made my opinion about the place quite clear—you’d better live somewhere comfy. Preferably with air-conditioning and refreshing beverages.

  Soon the land beneath them became increasingly lush, increasingly moist, and increasingly sticky. They were shifting from a dry and hot ecosystem to a wet and hot one, and that was not a nice change.

  Things got worse when they found themselves being pelted by heavy raindrops. Flangelo angled sharply toward the ground, ignoring the complaints of the kids flying behind him. They followed him as he landed on the outskirts of a small lake. It was clearly real water, not another teleporting pool—the surface dented and rippled in the growing rain. All around the lake, a few hundred feet back from the waterline, stretched tall, thin trees.

  The grass was thick and high, while the storm had turned the dirt into a muddy marsh. Each squishy, sticky misstep led to them having to yank their feet to get unstuck from the mud. It was a struggle, especially since their shoes often stayed in the mud and had to be pulled out separately.

  “Why did you land?” Simon asked loudly. He didn’t mean to yell, but having wind rush past his ears for so long had made it hard to tell what his volume was.

  “Do you like flying through a downpour?” Flangelo chirped back. “I certainly don’t.” He held his hands out, letting the water smack against his upturned palms. “These hurt when you’re a sparrow, you know! And what if there’s lightning?”

  “Okay,” Owen said. “So why don’t we fly above the storm?”

  Simon shook his head. “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to follow the space-time trail from so high with a thunder-storm raging beneath me. It might interfere.”

  Alysha shrugged. “So Flangelo can fly with us in human form. I should be able to absorb
any lightning that hits us.”

  “Should?” Owen asked, wide-eyed.

  “Fine,” Flangelo warbled. “But I’d like to rest a little.” He waggled his arms. “Flying is tiring if you’re using wings. Besides, I could really go for some water.” He looked up at the clouds. “Not this water, but you know what I mean.”

  Simon nodded. “I guess we could all use a break.” They reached into their packs, with Simon, Owen, and Alysha donning their raincoats to deal with the deluge. They were careful to maintain some contact with Owen so they’d remain camouflaged. “But not too long; we need to keep on Sirabetta’s trail!”

  “Yes, yes, whatever,” Flangelo said. “Maybe we can discuss this under some trees, so we can get out of the rain? Or one of you can use your fancy Physics tricks to keep us dry? It’s bad enough I’m talking to a bunch of invisible people.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who decided to land here,” Owen said. He started catching the rain above them with his velocity control.

  With Owen reducing the rainfall around them, they could see the area around them better. “Ah,” Flangelo said. “Possible trouble.” He pointed in the distance.

  Several shapes were moving. Some were on the opposite side of the lake, and most were keeping their distance from Simon et al. A few were passing right by them, but their slow pace and lack of interest made an attack seem unlikely.

  As they stared, Simon and his friends were able to make out a herd of odd-looking horses. They had rounded ears, shorter-than-normal snouts, and very short manes. Others looked like variations of normal animals—such as armadillos, anteaters, and beavers—only giant-size. Across the lake, they saw huge creatures that looked similar to bears but with long, narrow faces and a slow, shuffling walk.

  “Oboy,” Flangelo said, then whistled. “Megafauna.”

  “What does that mean?” Owen asked. “Sounds like a type of giant robot.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t seen some show about them,” Flangelo said. “They’re unusually large animals, in this case, prehistoric ones.” He pointed across the lake. “See those? Giant ground sloths. You can’t tell from here, but they’re about ten feet tall. And they’re one of the shorter giant sloths. Sharp claws, too. That’s our cue to leave.”

  “Wait,” Alysha said. “They just want to drink from the lake!”

  Indeed, the huge mammals paid no attention to the friends. Granted, Owen’s camouflage was keeping them hidden, but the animals could surely smell them, too.

  “I guess we don’t smell threatening to them,” Simon said.

  “Well, let’s hope they don’t decide to go oryx on us,” Owen said.

  Once they were sure the megafauna were ignoring them, Simon and his friends tried to continue to the tree line. They struggled in the mire, breathing hard from the effort.

  “This getting-stuck-thing is as much fun as getting soaked,” Flangelo warbled.

  “Who decided to land in the storm?” Alysha demanded, tugging at a stuck foot.

  Owen lost his balance and fell to the ground, dumping his collected water onto everyone with a splash in the process. “Sorry,” Owen said. He couldn’t get his hands and feet unstuck. As his friends tried to help him up, they each stumbled in the muck. They became spread out from one another and—it’s important to note—far from Owen’s camouflaging touch.

  They all noticed they could see one another, and they suddenly stopped moving. Instead, they watched the various megafauna carefully, looking for any sign of hostility.

  “They don’t care about you,” Flangelo said. “I guess the oryx attack was a fluke.”

  “Wait—does anyone else feel that?” Owen asked.

  Everyone nodded; there was a light but steady shaking to the ground.

  “We should go,” Owen said. “What if there’s an earthquake? Or a dome-quake!”

  “It’s not a quake,” Simon said, pointing to the tree line. “It’s them.”

  The group followed his extended arm and saw the source of all that shaking. It was a herd of what looked like elephants stomping out from the trees. Like elephants, these beasts had thick gray skin with a few tufts of gray hair on their heads. These were much bigger than modern elephants, though.

  The largest in the monstrous herd was at least fourteen feet high at the shoulder, and fourteen feet long. That one, stomping ahead of the rest, also had spiraled tusks that stretched out at least fifteen feet in front of it; for a moment, Simon wondered why the tusks weren’t tipping them over.

  There were seven in total, all huge and all headed toward the lake, a few hundred yards away. They were probably just looking for a drink like the other megafauna; it was unfortunate that Simon and his friends were standing between them and the water.

  “Columbian mammoths,” Flangelo said, his voice strained. “They were one of the largest animals to walk the Earth.”

  “You mean are one,” Alysha said. “’Cause they’re right there.”

  “We’re fine,” Flangelo said. “They’re plant eaters like these others. Peaceful unless threatened.”

  “These other ones are leaving,” Owen said.

  It was true; the prehistoric horses, beavers, and other huge, extinct mammals were slinking away to the surrounding woods.

  Flangelo shrugged. “I guess they want to give the mammoths room?”

  The lead mammoth let out a deafening bellow and started to run at them. The rest of the herd trumpeted in response and joined in with a thunderous stampede.

  Owen turned and glared at Flangelo. “Are any of you ever right about anything?”

  CHAPTER 28

  PLASMA MAKES PERFECT

  “Should we feel insulted that the superbeavers didn’t attack us, too?” Alysha asked.

  “Maybe we can make jokes later?” Flangelo said. “After we fly away?”

  Alysha tugged at her feet. “I can’t—I’m stuck!”

  Simon groaned. “Me, too!”

  Owen, similarly bogged down, nodded as he frantically tried to get free.

  Flangelo looked down; one of his feet was stuck in the swampy ground, too. “This is bad. And disgusting.” He changed into his bird form. As Simon pointed out earlier, the extra mass of Flangelo’s human body dispersed into the air and his sparrow form was small and light enough to avoid getting stuck.

  Flangelo took to the air and flew at the lead mammoth. He chirped furiously as he winged his way around the creature’s massive head, which was as big as a king-size bed. He hovered by one of its dinner plate-size ears, apparently trying to talk to it. Whether it understood or not, it swung its tusks and swatted its trunk at the sparrow. Flangelo easily dodged these attacks and returned to the kids.

  He shifted back to human form. “Something’s definitely wrong; they’re not stopping. And it tried to attack me! I think something is controlling them!”

  “You think?” Alysha said. “Simon, Owen, can you stop them?”

  “They’re huge!” Owen gulped. “I don’t think I can move anything with that much mass and weight. Definitely not seven of them!”

  “Simon?” Alysha yelled. “One of you at least try!”

  Simon squinted through the rain at the uneven, muddy ground. Would friction work on that kind of surface? Would it work on something as big as the mammoths? These were like elephants from the planet Krypton. Massive in size and strength, terrifying in sheer power, with a stench—like a barn-yard times twenty—worsened by the humid air and swampy ground.

  It was his fault they were in this mess . . . he had to find a way out for them! He tried to redirect the gravitational pull on the mammoths as he did with the Komodos. The trees behind them should have become their ground instead of the earth beneath them, and unlike the Komodo dragons, these beasts had no claws to grip the ground with. They should have been flung backward, literally falling to the forest. But it didn’t work.

  Alysha looked at Simon, slumping with defeat. “They’re big—so what?” she yelled. “You control gravity! You sent Sirabet
ta’s car flying once, and that was big!”

  He nodded, but with no enthusiasm. Since he’d gotten his gravity formula, he’d done amazing things. But there were limits to everything, and he’d just found his.

  “Those mammoths are a lot bigger and heavier than cars!” Owen said.

  “Besides, I didn’t consciously do that,” Simon said. “I just changed gravity, and it eventually made the car fly.” He shivered from the damp . . . and fear. What should he do? What could he do?

  “Simon,” Alysha yelled. “Try something! Anything!”

  Simon grit his teeth. She was right—trying and failing was better than doing nothing. If he could make them weightless, maybe Owen would be able to use velocity on them. Simon tried to twist the weblike network of gravity away from them, but he couldn’t budge it. It was as if gravity were a living thing that wouldn’t let go of its grip on them. There might have been a way to do it, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around how.

  By now, the mammoths had gotten frighteningly close—maybe one hundred feet away and getting nearer with each earth-shaking moment. He couldn’t redirect or take away the effect of gravity on them, but perhaps he could add to it. That wasn’t fighting their enormous nature . . . it capitalized on it. He spoke the words and smiled as, with angry but weakened bellows, the Mammoths sank to their knees.

  Simon had only managed to double their gravitational pull and thus double their weight. But these beasts naturally weighed ten to fifteen tons, which was not an easy amount for any land animal to go strolling around with. At twenty to thirty tons, their muscles strained and their bones creaked from their efforts to move.

  “Great!” Owen shouted. “Now let’s get out of the mud and go . . . anywhere!”

  The kids pulled at their feet, but Alysha suddenly leaned back and shrieked. “There’s something in the grass!”

  “Oh, not again!” Owen yelped, staring wildly around him.

  “Alysha, what’s going on?” Simon yelled to her.

  Alysha tugged harder at her leg and cheered when it pulled free. “Look, I saw that grass moving.” She pointed toward the waist-high grass about twenty feet away.