“Tut tut, Mr. Geryson.” She sighed. “I can follow many Chronicles at the same time. But with the exception of some shenanigans the Math League is up to again, no subjects of other Chronicles are holding the safety of the universe in their hands.”
“Pardon? You’re saying that Simon and his friends . . . ?”
“Yes. Their mission will decide the fate of all things. Are you surprised? You’ve made references to that several times; were you just being colorful?”
“Er, no,” I stammered. “I’m just not used to this sort of conversation. Talking with someone who knows more than I do.”
Miss Fanstrom chuckled. “Ah, that’s part of being in the Knowledge Union. No matter how much you know, there’s always someone who knows more.”
I shuddered. “What happens now?”
Miss Fanstrom checked her watch. “Now—ah! Here they are.” She was looking at the street in front of the school, where an ordinary unmarked white van pulled up to the curb. A man and a woman, both wearing denim overalls and baseball caps with GUILD stitched across the front, got out.
I recognized them from my last Chronicle—they’d installed a teleportation device in Miss Fanstrom’s office when she became principal of Simon’s elementary school.
“Thank you for coming,” Miss Fanstrom said to the Guild members. “I have much work for you, more than the standard setup package.”
The woman took a large toolbox out of the van while the man took out a red and white cooler, the kind often used to hold beverages. The various gauges and switches on the cooler and the unusual tools in the toolbox made it clear these were not ordinary items.
“Excuse me,” I said, “what exactly are they going to do?”
Miss Fanstrom crooked a finger to the Guild members, who followed her into the school. “Mr. Geryson, they are going to do what the Craftsmen’s Guild does best: prepare me for whatever may come. You keep your eyes on your Screen, I’ll keep mine on mine, and hopefully that’s all we’ll need to do.”
“What else might we have to do?”
Miss Fanstrom showed a mysterious half-smile and a shrug. “I can tell you this: I fear we may be earning hazard pay in the near future.”
Hazard pay? But I don’t get any pay!
“A minor quibble, Mr. Geryson,” Miss Fanstrom said. “We’ll worry about that later, if there is a later.” A beep from her notebook computer distracted her. “For now, we both have work to do. And friends to worry about.”
And with that, my Viewing Screen changed its focus: the Chronicle was to go on.
CHAPTER 35
WHEN RAIN FORESTS ATTACK
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Flangelo quietly asked for the third time.
“He’s sure!” Owen and Alysha hissed at the same time.
“Just getting tired of stomping through all this mush,” Flangelo chirped.
“It’s not far now,” Simon whispered. “Wait, something’s changing. She’s moving.” He concentrated. “She’s slowly headed that way now,” he said.
“Slowly?” Alysha said. “If she’s not flying, maybe her tattoos aren’t working.”
“But we can fly after her,” Flangelo said. “I’ll go as a bird; I’m tired of Owen’s sweaty hand.” He yanked his hand away from Owen’s and wiped it on his pants. “It’s like holding an eel!”
Flangelo paused and stared down at his hands and body, which were rapidly becoming visible. “Wait, how come I’m starting to see myself? Oh, I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?”
And that’s when the jungle sprang at him.
A vine lashed out from the nearest tree and wrapped around Flangelo. It yanked him off the ground, wound him up like a yo-yo, and flung him back to the floor.
It happened so fast that the kids barely had time to avoid his hurtling body. He squished to a landing in the muck beyond them, while the act of dodging forced the kids to let go of one anothers’ hands. Alysha and Simon’s chromatophores disintegrated, leaving them fully visible, too.
“Surrender!” a familiar voice bellowed.
Simon, Alysha, and Owen turned at the sound of a voice that used to holler at them through seemingly endless gym classes. “Mr. Wanderby!” they shouted.
“Stay camouflaged, Owen!” Alysha shouted. She looked down at the moist rain forest floor. “And watch out for your footprints!”
Owen used velocity to launch into the air and slowly circle above his friends.
“Forget him,” Wanderby yelled. “You, lad,” he said, pointing at Simon. “You have something I want, and I want it now!”
Alysha burst out laughing. “Do you ever get tired of sounding like such a jerk?”
“You watch how you talk to me, lass!”
“You’re not our teacher anymore!” Owen shouted, his voice floating down from the seemingly empty air. “And we never liked you then, either!”
“Spread out and prepare for battle,” Wanderby said over his shoulder, in the commanding tone of a military leader.
Simon gulped; stepping out from the foliage were eight Biology members he didn’t recognize plus Kender, already encased in his exoskeletal armor.
Grawley, still dressed in all brown, cracked his knuckles. His body shimmered, shook, and grew until he’d shifted to his massive, eight-foot-tall grizzly bear form. Then he let out a roar that shook the branches around him.
Simon felt that roar deep inside his stomach, and his face went pale. Oh, no, here we go again! He looked from Grawley to the other enemy Bio members. What did I get us into?
“Simon?” Alysha said, her face scrunched up with worry. “Come on, focus. We need you if we’re going to get through this.”
Wanderby laughed. “That’s the point, lass—you won’t.” He turned to the Bio member who’d been with Grawley earlier. “Kushwindro, bind them!”
Kushwindro nodded and gestured with his hands. Dozens of green, ropy vines dropped from the canopy above, lashing out through the area where the kids stood. He then spoke an unintelligible string of words, causing the dirt, leaves, and moss on the rain forest floor to reach up and encase Simon’s and Alysha’s legs. Before they could try to free their feet, their bodies were snared by the animate vines.
“Watch-out-he-can-control-the-jungle!” Owen shouted.
“No kidding,” Alysha groaned. “Don’t give away your position!”
“He doesn’t have to, little lady,” Kushwindro said with a chuckle. “This is my rain forest; I’m all-powerful here.” He gestured, causing more vines to swing through the air between the canopy and the jungle floor.
One of them grazed Owen’s unseen arm and suddenly several more flailed around that area. Within moments, Owen was entwined. He was still camouflaged, though—the vines appeared to be holding onto part of the jungle itself.
“That was even easier than I’d expected,” Wanderby said. “Sir will be pleased.”
“Don’t worry, kids, I’m coming!” Flangelo shouted as he rose from where he’d been thrown. Another vine wrapped around him, but Flangelo turned into a sparrow, leaving it holding empty air. He flapped hard, dodging other grasping vines.
“Okay, now I’m getting angry,” Alysha snarled. She generated a current of electricity through her body, killing the vines and burning away the rain forest muck that held her. “Simon, snap out of it!”
For a moment, Simon was lost in his head. Feeling stupid, feeling useless, feeling like the worst thing to ever happen to his friends. To the universe. Wait a second, he thought. If I give up now, that’s even worse. He glared at Wanderby, fumed at the other Bio members who were moving forward around him, and raged at Sirabetta for putting his friends and him through this. No. No more!
Simon used gravity to fling away the mud and decaying vegetation that held his legs, and then he used friction to slide out of the vines’ grasp. Kushwindro sent more vines swinging and whipping after him, but Simon formed arms out of gravity and tore them apart. He did the same to the vines wrapped around Owen, freeing
him, too.
“You never learn, Wanderby,” Alysha shouted. “Don’t underestimate kids—especially us!”
“Do I look worried, lass?” Wanderby yelled back. He raised his hand and opened his mouth, but he paused when two more Bio members burst through the foliage, breathing hard as they slammed to a halt at the battle site: it was Targa and Cassaro.
Kender nodded his bug-eyed head at them and turned to Wanderby. “Those are my friends. They’re here to help.” He chuckled, the sound echoing deep inside his exoskeleton as he cupped one fist in the other. He suddenly spun around and swung his fists at Grawley the Grizzly Bear, knocking him back into the trees with a shocked whine.
“Don’t worry, kids,” Kender shouted. “We’re on your side.”
Wanderby turned to look at Kender. “You traitor!”
“Traitor?” Kender laughed. “By betraying betrayers?” He shrugged his massive, gray-armored shoulders. “My friends and I only picked a fight with those kids so I could join your group and wreck your plans. We joined this Order to improve things, not to pull some conquer-the-world scheme!”
Flangelo shifted from sparrow to human form. “All right, Kender!” He turned to Alysha. “Okay, spark plug, as promised, I’m going into warrior mode. Prepare to be impressed.” With that, his body shimmered and once again changed shape into a bird. This time, however, he didn’t become a sparrow.
Where slender, pale Flangelo once stood was now a huge bird. He had a two-foot-long, black-feathered neck; a head the size of a softball with a triangular black beak; and a light gray, fluffily feathered body. His legs were three feet long, each ending in a three-toed, sharp-clawed foot. He wiggled his head, rose to his full height—over six feet tall—and let out a few grunts from deep within his throat.
Wanderby grimaced. “You think we’re scared of a few kids, three punks barely out of college, and an ostrich?”
The large bird shifted back to Flangelo’s human form. “For your information, I’m an emu, not an ostrich.”
“This is a battle, not chatter time!” Alysha hissed. Flangelo blushed and returned to emu-form.
“Whatever type of bird he is, you should be scared, loud-mouth,” Kender said to Wanderby. “It’s almost even numbers—seven versus eight—and we’re gonna flatten you!”
A ferocious roar split the jungle, and Grawley burst back into the region. He tackled Kender, slamming him to the ground with a wet thud. Grawley swung softball-size paws tipped with three-inch-long claws and bit with a tooth-filled snout the size of a loaf of bread. Kender punched at the bear-man, and the two began rolling back and forth along the jungle floor, fighting fists against paws, teeth against head butt.
“I guess it’s seven against nine again,” Alysha grumbled.
“Guess again,” Wanderby yelled. “Najolo, Demara, call your armies.”
Najolo, a tall, thin man with messy hair, shimmered and shook and turned into a gibbon—a three-foot-tall, black-haired ape. He inflated a grapefruit-shaped air sac on his throat and let out a piercingly loud gibbon hoot.
It wasn’t a monkeylike “ooh-ooh-ahh-ahh” or the usual deeper, apelike “ooh ooh.” It was a high-pitched “wooooh, wooooh,” like a cowboy having fun. Answering hoots came from throughout the jungle, and distant trees shook with what must have been hundreds of gibbons approaching.
Demara, a blond, curly-haired woman, spoke some unintelligible words, and in response, the jungle began to vibrate with a buzzing sound.
“What’s that?” Alysha asked, her voice quivering.
Demara grinned. “My army of insects: flying beetles, mosquitoes, cicadas, bees, and flies. Many thousands of them. And they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Bugs?” Alysha shrieked. “You’re fighting with bugs? I hate bugs!”
Zillafer the porcupine fish-woman stepped forward and triggered her Bio-power, inflating her body into a huge, spike-covered sphere. Kostaglos, the venom spitter, moved to her side, hissing as he opened his mouth wide to reveal his poison-shooting tubes. Two more female Biology members joined them with faces set in grim expressions, ready to unleash their own Biology abilities, too.
“Now do you see what you’re up against?” Wanderby said.
“Simon,” Alysha hissed, “if you’ve got a plan, this would be a really good time to mention it.”
Simon looked from her to the assembled enemies, with the hoots and buzzing of more on the way ringing in his ears. “Yeah,” he said with a gulp. “I’m working on it.”
CHAPTER 36
RAIN FOREST CRUNCH TIME
“Okay, team—get them!” Wanderby snarled. “Failure is not an option!”
“I didn’t think anyone really talked like that,” Owen said as he used velocity to yank handful-size globs of mossy jungle-gunk, loose branches, and torn vines from the rain forest floor. He bombarded Wanderby with them, forcing his former gym teacher to back away while covering up as much as he could with his hands and arms.
Flangelo let loose with a booming sound—the emu equivalent of a roar—and rushed at the nearest enemy: Zillafer the porcupine fish-woman. Before she could react, Flangelo spun and kicked her hard, sending her bouncing off into the forest.
Cassaro stepped forward. “Nice shot! Let’s see how they like this.” He spat a cloud of mushroom spores toward Wanderby and a cluster of enemy Order members; several attached themselves and began growing at an accelerated rate.
“This is going to be easy!” Targa cheered, throwing her fists into the air.
But she spoke far too soon. Kostaglos rushed forward and shot streams of well-aimed poison at most of the mushrooms growing on his friends. The fungi dissolved quickly, melting to the ground in bubbling puddles.
Kushwindro gestured, shifting the thick, long leaves of nearby bushes and trees to smack at the group. He also launched more vines from the canopy, sending them snaking down toward the heroes. Several wet leaves clung to Owen, revealing his location.
While Owen was busy tearing the leaves off, Wanderby used the break to turn his rotational formula on Flangelo. The fierce but goofy-looking bird crashed hard into Cassaro, knocking him unconscious; the remaining giant mushrooms stopped growing. Wanderby whirled Flangelo faster and faster, causing the emu to let out tormented honks.
Zillafer bounded back into the battle area, squashing some leftover mushrooms as she arrived. Chunks of torn fungus clung to some of her spikes. “I hate getting bounced around,” she bellowed. “I’m going to enjoy squashing these guys.”
“Here,” Kushwindro said. “Let me help you with that.” He gestured, and more vines grasped at his enemies. Zillafer aimed herself at Simon, Alysha, and Targa, who were standing near one another in a relatively clear part of the jungle.
Wanderby grinned cruelly as he spun Flangelo faster and faster. “Trurya, make sure they’re defenseless for the attack.”
Trurya, a short, slender woman with extremely thick glasses, gestured at Simon, Alysha, and Targa.
Alysha reached into her pocket and brought out a handful of coins; she was about to fill them with electricity and throw them, but Trurya’s attack had an instant effect. “I can’t see the bad guys anymore!” Alysha gasped. “I’ve gone blind!”
“Me, too!” Targa yelled. She waved her hands in front of her own face. “No, wait—I can still see things close by, but not far away.” She slapped at some grabby nearby creepers, but once they got more than a foot away, she flailed helplessly at the air.
Simon knew what it was. “Myopia,” he whispered. “She made us nearsighted.” He strained to see past a foot, but everything was blurry. “Owen, can you still see?”
“Yes-but-I-can-only-see-jungle-attacking-me,” Owen yelled. He was flying back and forth, using velocity to tear away the vines, branches, and leaves that were coming at him from all directions. “Camouflage doesn’t help when there’s jungle everywhere!”
“This will be like bowling,” Zillafer said, aiming at Simon, Alysha, and Targa.
“We’re
sitting ducks like this,” Targa shouted. “Kender, we could use a hand!”
As they battled, Kender and Grawley went crashing through the foliage, rebounding off large trees and snapping smaller trees they smashed into. “Little busy right now!”
Not two minutes had passed since Alysha had called for Simon to think of something, and in that short time, everything had gone from bad to worse. Simon squinted but, try as he might, he couldn’t see beyond a foot or so.
“I don’t need to see like that,” he muttered. He closed his eyes tightly and extended his sense of gravity, letting him feel everything happening around him. Everything, moving or stationary, was being affected by the gravity around them. It may have been Kushwindro’s rain forest, but it was all part of Simon’s world.
There were so many enemies, though, and beyond them he could sense an enormous swarm of insects flying in from one direction and an army of gibbons swinging over from the other. It was too much for him to focus on.
“No,” he whispered. “I’m tired of worrying and I’m sick of being pushed around.” He might well be a terrible leader, he decided, but the others were looking to him for guidance. He’d gotten them into this mess—he’d get them out.
“Hey . . . adrenaline woman!” he shouted, sensing her nearby.
“Name’s Targa,” she said.
“Can you reverse that sleepy trick? Make someone hy peralert and energetic?”
“Yeah, sure. Who?”
“Me.”
“When?”
“Now!” Simon shouted.
The effect was immediate: Simon’s eyes immediately jolted wide open as Targa’s epinephrine surged through his bloodstream. He felt as if he’d just chugged twelve cans of soda, but without having to pee after.
Every heartbeat was a gong-strike, every intake of breath was a cyclone in reverse, and every muscle was a contender for the be-like-Superman club. Most importantly, this triggered another chemical (called norepinephrine) in his body; it turned his mind into an Indy 500 of racing thoughts and sharp, precision calculations. His gravity-sensitivity was amplified, giving him hyperawareness of everything around him.
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