by Dan Gutman
“That was the flaw in my plan,” Dr. Warsaw continued. “Children don’t always do what you tell them to do. Some of the young geniuses I selected didn’t follow my instructions. Some betrayed me. The Genius Files experiment was going horribly wrong. I was forced to kill the program. And in order to kill the program, I have to kill the young geniuses. So I have to kill you. That’s you in the plural sense of the word. I’m terribly sorry.”
Pep broke down and started sobbing.
“That’s another reason why I don’t understand kids,” Dr. Warsaw said. “They cry. Pepsi, I assure you, this is nothing personal. It’s for the good of America that I kill off the program completely, you understand. Dying is patriotic.”
“So now we know why Mrs. Higgins and those bowler dudes have been chasing us across the country,” Coke said angrily.
“Bowler dudes?” Dr. Warsaw said, grinning. “Is that what you call them? I like that. They are two of my best men. But they proved to be incompetent. That’s the problem with delegating responsibility. You just can’t get good help. And you two children have proven to be surprisingly hard to eliminate. You deserve credit for that. I suppose that if one wants something done right, one just has to do it oneself. That’s a valuable life lesson that I regret you two will not be able to take advantage of.”
“You’re a mass murderer!” Coke yelled. “How many kids have you killed?”
“Oh, one loses count,” Dr. Warsaw replied. “Some are dead, some are missing, some I haven’t taken care of yet. . . .”
“Mom! Dad!” Pep screamed. “Security! Help!”
“Don’t bother, Pepsi,” Dr. Warsaw said. “Alex Jordan designed The Infinity Room to be soundproof. I rented it for the afternoon. I told them it was for a . . . birthday party. Oh, by the way, happy birthday!”
“What did we ever do to you?” Pep said through her tears. “We never even met you before.”
“That’s true,” he replied. “I’m glad that we did finally have the chance to meet before your unfortunate passing.”
“You’re nuts, you know that?” Coke hollered, pointing his finger at Dr. Warsaw. “You’ve got post-traumatic stress syndrome or something. Watching that plane hit the Pentagon on 9/11 drove you crazy.”
“Crazy? Nuts?” Dr. Warsaw said, puzzled. “Sometimes it’s a thin line between eccentricity and insanity, Coke. Aren’t we all a little nuts, in varying degrees? I mean, your mother traveled halfway across the United States to look at a ball of twine. And then she went to look at another one. Maybe your mother is nuts.”
“Leave my mother out of this!” Coke yelled.
“How did you know that about our mother?” Pepsi demanded.
“Oh, I know so much about you kids. That computer chip in your scalp was my design, you know. I’ve been monitoring you two ever since you got them. I knew where you were at all times. I heard your every conversation. The bones of the skull make an excellent conductor of sound.”
Dr. Warsaw stubbed out his cigarette and took another one from his shirt pocket. As he reached into his jacket for matches, Coke decided he couldn’t wait a moment longer. This might be his only chance. Both of Dr. Warsaw’s hands were occupied. He wouldn’t be able to use a weapon even if he had one. Coke charged at him, ready to strangle him if necessary.
“Coke, don’t!” Mya shouted.
Dr. Warsaw quickly dropped the cigarette, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a little device that looked like an iPod. He pointed it at Coke—coming at him fast—and pushed a button.
“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!” Coke screamed, falling to the floor and holding his head. Pep rushed over and knelt down to comfort her brother.
“What did you do to him?” she demanded.
“Oh, you’ll like this, Pepsi,” Dr. Warsaw said. “Your generation loves portable technology, don’t you? You all have your cute little iPods and iPads and cell phones and cameras.”
“What is that thing?” Coke said, still grimacing with pain.
“The computer chip in your scalp is more than just a tracking device,” Dr. Warsaw said. “It can also deliver powerful electric shocks to your brain. I call it iJolt. See?”
“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!”
This time it was Pep who crumpled to the floor.
“Leave them alone!” shouted Bones helplessly. “If you want to hurt somebody, hurt me!”
Dr. Warsaw ignored him.
“I spent my entire life savings on the research and development of the iJolt,” he said, clearly proud. “This is my House on the Rock. My life’s work. My obsession. It’s a customized iPod. See the wheel? Instead of increasing the volume, it increases the voltage. Clever, eh?”
“What’ll they think of next?” Coke said, rubbing his head.
“Before you know it, they’ll be selling these things at Wal-Mart,” Dr. Warsaw said. “I’ll make a killing. It’s a killer app! Get it?”
He broke into a cackling laugh, but none of the others in the room appreciated the humor.
“So, that’s it, huh?” Coke said, helping his sister to her feet. “You’re going to kill us with electric shocks.”
“I would rather not,” Dr. Warsaw told him. “Short-circuiting one’s brain with electricity is . . . such a waste of energy. And we’re all trying to be green these days, aren’t we? Come over here, please. I’ll show you how you’re going to die.”
He went over to the glass box and looked down through it at the trees below.
“You expect us to just get in that hole and fall to our deaths?” Coke said. “Now I know you’re crazy.”
“Forget it,” Pep said. “We’re not getting in there.”
“The iJolt will kill you for sure,” Dr. Warsaw told them. “But if you go through this hole voluntarily, maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe you’ll hit the branch of a tree and survive. You take your chances. It’s your choice, of course. And I’m pro-choice all the way.”
“We’re not coming over there,” Pep said defiantly.
“Have it your way,” Dr. Warsaw said, holding up the iJolt. “This is going to hurt me almost as much as it hurts you.”
“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!” Pep screamed, dropping to her knees and covering her head.
Suddenly, Coke came up with a crazy idea. It was a long shot, but sometimes you’ve got to play a long shot.
“Wait!” he yelled. “Before you push that button again, may I ask you one question?”
“By all means.”
“Did you ever play a game called 52 Pickup?”
“I can’t say that I have,” Dr. Warsaw replied.
Coke took his deck of cards out of his pocket and squeezed it, flipping the entire deck up in the air.
While Dr. Warsaw was momentarily distracted, Pep reached into her backpack and grabbed the Frisbee. Without hesitation, she brought it back and flung it hard at Dr. Warsaw, striking him on the wrist. The iJolt dropped to the floor.
Coke dove for it, but Dr. Warsaw kicked it behind him, near the glass box.
“Get him!” Bones and Mya yelled.
While Coke crawled after the iJolt, Pep jumped on Dr. Warsaw’s back and started hitting him with her fists. He spun around and threw her off. She hit the floor hard. But by that time Coke had his hand on the iJolt.
“Give that back to me!”
“Aha!” Coke said, waving the little device around, a wide smile on his face. “What now, Dr. Warsaw?”
“Okay, if you give that back to me, I will let you go,” Dr. Warsaw said, gasping for breath. “I promise. And I won’t press charges against you for assault and battery. That is a good deal. You should take advantage of my kind offer.”
“You say you spent your whole life savings on this?” Coke said, waving the iJolt in front of him as if he was playing ball with a dog. “Well, come and get it.”
As Dr. Warsaw came toward him with his hand outstretched, Coke flipped the iJolt underhand to his sister. Pep thought about continuing the game of keep-away but instead decided on a simpler strategy—she
slam-dunked the iJolt into the glass box.
“Oops, I dropped it!” Pep said.
“No!” Dr. Warsaw screamed, leaning over to look through the hole in the bottom of the glass box and watch his iJolt fall to the ground far below. “That’s my only prototype!”
“Aw, gee, too bad!” Coke said.
You might think that Coke would have felt a twinge of sympathy for the pathetic inventor, who was leaning over the glass box and watching his life’s work smash onto the rocks below. You might think that Coke would have understood how witnessing the attack on the Pentagon could have driven Dr. Warsaw insane. You might think Coke would have felt sorry for a mentally ill man who, some would argue, was not morally responsible for his actions.
Well, he didn’t. Boys don’t have feelings, remember?
There was no time to think about feelings, anyway. It was time to do something. Coke spun around and did the only karate kick he knew.
“Meet the Inflictor!” he hollered.
His foot struck Dr. Warsaw on the backside and pushed him forward, causing the unsteady man to lose his balance and tumble, face-first, into the floorless glass box. Dr. Warsaw reached out and tried to grab an edge of the glass as he went through it, but it was no use.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Coke and Pep rushed over in time to watch him plummet. They lost sight of him as he fell through the trees.
A person doesn’t fall from that height and just walk away.
For a long moment neither of the twins said a word. There was nothing to say. They had, in all likelihood, killed a man. They may have had every reason in the world to do it, but they had done it; and they would have to live with that fact for the rest of their lives. Silently, they untied Bones and Mya. The four of them did a group hug and said good-bye.
“Let’s blow this pop stand,” Coke finally said, taking his sister’s hand.
Chapter 25
Kids Today
“You were amazing back there!” Pep said as she and Coke made their way down the wooden ramp and out of The House on the Rock.
“You weren’t bad yourself,” her brother replied. “Y’know, you’re getting to be pretty good with a Frisbee, Pep. I’d say you’re no longer totally pathetic. You’re now simply pathetic.”
“Gee, thanks.”
When they got out to the parking lot, there were several police cars, an ambulance, and lots of people milling around. Eventually, the twins located their parents.
“We’ve been looking all over for you two!” Mrs. McDonald said. “Why didn’t you answer your cell phones?”
“We silenced them,” Coke said honestly.
“Are you kids all right?” asked Dr. McDonald. “We were so worried. The police told us there was some kind of a disturbance inside. A woman was found unconscious in that room with that big sea creature, and somebody fell through the floor of The Infinity Room. They had to evacuate the entire building.”
“Oh man, and we missed all the excitement!” Pep complained.
“Did you get lost?” their mother asked. “Where were you?”
Pep looked at her brother.
“We were throwing the Frisbee,” Coke said.
“You were throwing a Frisbee inside The House on the Rock?” Dr. McDonald asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” the twins said together.
“So where’s the Frisbee?” asked Mrs. McDonald.
“We . . . I guess we lost it,” Coke said.
“You lost it?”
Dr. McDonald just shook his head and wondered what was wrong with kids today. When would this generation get some common sense and become responsible, hardworking, mature individuals who care about something other than themselves? But he didn’t want to make an issue of it. Not now. After all, it was the twins’ birthday.
“Let’s eat!” Coke suggested.
The McDonalds piled back into the RV and pulled out of the parking lot. It was almost a thousand miles to Washington D.C. They still had a long way to go.
Epilogue
Is Dr. Warsaw really dead? Or did he somehow survive the fall from The Infinity Room? Will the McDonalds make it to Washington in time for Aunt Judy’s wedding? What strange places will they visit on the way there? Will their parents ever figure out about The Genius Files? What will become of Mya, Bones, Mrs. Higgins, and those bowler dude brothers? Are there other perils awaiting Coke and Pep as they make their way cross-country? What happened to the other young geniuses who were selected to be part of the experiment?
To find out the answers to these and many other questions, you’ll just have to wait for Part II of The Genius Files.
Don’t Miss The Genius Files
Never Say Genius 2
Happy birthday, Coke and Pepsi . . .
It was June 25. The McDonald family (Coke, Pep, their mom, Bridget, and dad, Dr. Benjamin McDonald) were sitting in the RV in the parking lot of The House on the Rock. Mrs. McDonald had baked a little cake in the microwave oven. Dr. McDonald stuck thirteen candles in it and lit them. That’s the problem with getting older—at some point your birthday cake becomes a fire hazard.
“Can you believe we have a couple of teenagers on our hands, Ben?” asked Mrs. McDonald, shaking her head at the wonder of it all.
“Do you remember the day they were born?” he replied (as if she could ever forget). “I held each of them in my arms like a couple of footballs. I remember it like it was yesterday. And now look at them.”
Coke and Pep sat in the backseat, silent. They were still stunned after what had happened to them at The House on the Rock. Just minutes earlier, they had been captured by Dr. Warsaw in The Infinity Room, a pointy extension that hung off the house like the beak of a huge bird. Dr. Warsaw had given them the choice of dying by electric shock from the wireless iJolt he had invented or plummeting one hundred fifty feet to their deaths. They chose neither. Instead, Pep knocked the iJolt out of his hands with a Frisbee and Coke used his famous Inflictor karate move to kick Dr. Warsaw out of The Infinity Room and to his virtually certain death. It would be a while before the twins would be ready to return to anything resembling normal.
“It’s time for your birthday presents!” Mrs. McDonald announced.
“Yay!”
A while was over. The twins, being of short attention span (like most thirteen-year-olds), instantly forgot all about Dr. Warsaw and their ordeal at The House on the Rock.
“What did you get us?” Pep asked anxiously, clapping her hands together.
“Just a little souvenir to help you remember our fun time in Wisconsin,” Dr. McDonald told them. With that, he presented them with a framed photo of The Infinity Room.
Coke gulped and Pep lurched backward in her seat involuntarily. Somebody had died at The Infinity Room. And it had almost been them. They certainly didn’t need a constant reminder hanging on the wall.
“But that’s not all!” said Mrs. McDonald, in her best infomercial voice.
She presented each of the twins with a little plastic bag filled with what appeared to be those Styrofoam “peanuts” that are used to pack boxes.
“What is it?” Pep asked.
“Cheese curds!” Mrs. McDonald exclaimed. “You can only get them in Wisconsin. Go ahead, taste one. When you bite into them, they squeak.”
“We also got you some genuine Wisconsin cheese heads,” Dr. McDonald added, pulling the big goofy yellow hats out of a bag and handing one to each twin. “Cool, huh?”
“It’s awesome, Dad,” Pep said semisarcastically as she put on her cheese head.
“We knew you’d like them,” said Dr. McDonald.
He pulled out of the parking lot and into the first gas station on the road to fill the tank of the RV. Then he merged onto Route 14 East, heading out of Spring Green. Dr. McDonald had attended graduate school at the University of Wisconsin and knew the area well. Soon they were in the country, passing by the rolling hills and dairy farms of southern Wisconsin.
“Look, a cow!” Pep hol
lered.
“Big wow,” Coke said. “What, you never saw a cow before?”
“Be nice to your sister,” warned Dr. McDonald.
“It’s Wisconsin!” Coke said. “Do you have any idea how many cows they have in Wisconsin?”
“I give up,” Pep admitted. “How many?”
“One point two million,” Coke said.
There was no point in arguing with him. Coke had a photographic memory. He could remember virtually anything he ever saw, touched, heard, smelled, or tasted. And one day, several years earlier, he happened to be reading the back of a milk carton that said there were one point two million cows in Wisconsin. Of course, there could be more cows now, or less. But at some point in time, there were definitely one point two million cows in Wisconsin.
“Hey, speaking of cows,” Dr. McDonald said, “do you know what kind of milk comes from a forgetful cow?”
“What kind?” everybody asked.
“Milk of amnesia!”
“Lame, Dad,” Coke said.
Actually, Coke thought his father’s joke was minorly funny. But it’s not cool to laugh at your parents’ jokes, as you well know.
About the Author
Dan Gutman has written many books for young people, such as Honus & Me, The Homework Machine, The Million Dollar Shot, and the My Weird School series. If you’d like to find out about Dan or his books, visit www.dangutman.com.
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Also by Dan Gutman
Baseball Card Adventures
Satch & Me
Babe & Me
Ray & Me
Jim & Me
Roberto & Me
Abner & Me
Honus & Me
Mickey & Me
Jackie & Me
Shoeless Joe & Me
My Weird School
Miss Daisy Is Crazy!
Mr. Klutz Is Nuts!
