The Octopus Effect (29 page)

“Wait,” Owen said to the lean man. “What's your formula?”

The man sighed. “I study hibernation; I could make one of you fall asleep, but it tends to make me nod off, too.”

Alysha chuckled. “Glowing, tracking, and putting yourself to sleep? What kind of powers are those?”

“Powers?” the woman asked. “We're not here to be su perheroes, you know. We have jobs. We advance knowledge. Some of us have formulas that can be used aggressively, sure, but we're here for the science.”

“Yeah? No wonder you're the B team,” Alysha said.

“Tell me where Sirabetta's headed!” Simon said.

Branto frowned. “Why should we tell you?”

Alysha held out her palm, threatening him with a large electrical spark. “Because it's going to hurt if you don't. A lot.”

“Oh, knock it off, Branto,” the pale woman said. “I'll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“No!” Branto said. He gestured to Jaynu, who yawned deeply and slid to the rain forest floor, sound asleep. Branto folded his arms with a smug smile but frowned a split second later. “Oh, no,” he said before he, too, slid to the ground, snoring loudly.

Alysha rolled her eyes. “You know, I'm starting to get really tired of this Biology place. Let's catch Sirabetta so we can go somewhere that isn't so annoying.”

“Okay, now what?” Targa asked.

“Can you sense which way Sirabetta's gone?” Alysha asked Simon.

Simon closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated. “That way,” he said, pointing through the jungle.

“Good, can we please go after her?” Alysha asked.

“But what about these guys?” Owen asked. “If we leave them here they might wake up and escape.”

“Or attack other Bio members,” Flangelo said.

“We could always trap them in their cavern headquarters,” Kender said. “At least as a temporary measure.” He pointed in the direction Simon had. “It's on the way.”

“It still feels like Sirabetta's moving fairly slowly,” Simon said, “but we should hurry.” Owen and Simon used their formulas to move the traitor Biology members into a pile; soon Simon had all eleven floating weightlessly.

“Wait,” Alysha said. “Where's Wanderby?”

Simon pointed to a pile of squashed insects. “That's where I got him.” They saw the footsteps left behind in the muck; he'd woken up and run off in a different direction.

“Should some of us go after him?” Targa asked Simon.

Simon only hesitated for a second. “No, we stick together. There might be more enemies around. Plus we don't know how tough the Bio members with Sirabetta are.”

“At least one—Krissantha—seemed dangerous,” Kender said.

“Tell us about them as we go,” Simon said. “At least now we don't have to worry about trying to be quiet—we can fly the whole way. Owen, can you manage all of us?”

The way Owen rolled up his sleeves would have been comical if not for the fierce look of determination on his face. “I guess I'll have to.”

“Then let's go,” Simon said. “We can finish this right now!”

Simon used gravity to make his friends and allies weightless. Then Owen flew them through the jungle to the cavern, following Kender's gestured directions. They went fast, with Kender in the front so every tree branch or thick leaf that they had to plow through was torn aside harmlessly against his shell.

They arrived in minutes. Kender cleared away the vegetation at the entrance to the cavern, and they hurried to the sloping passage. Simon used friction to make the tunnel ultraslippery so they could move quickly. Kender and Cassaro fell a few times, but Targa was a natural.

They left the villains in the cavern and hurried back out to the jungle. Simon used his gravity-arms to yank on the rocky entrance. He strained for a few moments until, with a thunderous, dust-raising crash, the entrance collapsed. “I'll clear that away when we get back,” he said.

“Hopefully my lungs will start working again by then,” Flangelo said, coughing.

“Okay, everyone form a circle and join hands,” Simon said. “Flangelo, stay human; it'll be easier and faster.”

“I don't like the sound of that,” Cassaro said.

“Sorry,” Simon said, “but they have a huge head start. From what Kender told us it doesn't sound like they have any strong fliers, so maybe we can catch up . . . but only with speed.”

The seven of them linked hands, and Simon made them all weightless. “Ready, Owen?” he asked. Owen nodded, and Simon took a deep breath. “Brace yourselves.”

Simon used his gravity-arms to force the trees apart and tear through the leaves, branches, and vines of the jungle canopy. “Owen, now!”

Owen lifted them as a group, launching them straight up through the gaping hole in the rain forest Simon had made. In less than a minute they'd soared past the enormous trees and were above the entire jungle ecosystem.

“That way,” Simon said, pointing with one leg to direct Owen.

They streaked through the air, moving as quickly as they could while still being able to breathe. Their hair blew back, their clothes ruffled from the wind, and their cheeks started to push back from the pressure, but Owen didn't let up.

The jungle whizzed by beneath them and the dome zoomed past above them. Targa, Kender, and Cassaro gazed up in awe; I could tell they'd never been so close to the top. An entire ocean held a few feet beyond their heads was an impressive sight.

The landscape below changed from jungle to low grasslands and, very quickly, to sand. “There!” Simon shouted, and Owen sent them soaring down to where the dome touched the beach.

It was a dizzying landing for Kender, Targa, and Cassaro, who weren't used to this type of flight; Targa and Cassaro bumped into each other and almost fell over, while Kender leaned forward with his hands on his knees for a moment until he adjusted.

“Can you still feel her?” Alysha yelled.

“Yes,” Simon said. Then, “Oh no!” He ran to the edge of the dome and planted his hands against its curvature. “There they are!”

In the distance the black shape of a manta ray moved swiftly through the water. It was already far away, though; within seconds it was beyond the bioluminescent kelp around the dome. Past that boundary there was only the impenetrable blackness of the deep, dark ocean. The fleeing enemy was quickly gone from sight.

Simon could feel the space-time tug from Sirabetta dwindling, too. He turned to the Biology members. “How can we go after them? How can we go outside?”

“Kid,” Targa said, “that's the ocean out there! Can you spell
drown
?”

Simon waved his hands. “I'll be fine—I can breathe underwater!”

“Doesn't matter; there's nothing we can do,” Flangelo said with a low, sad whistle. “There isn't an active transport point nearby; there's no way in or out of the dome here. Besides, what about them?”

Flangelo pointed at the coral reef ringing the dome. As if injured, a small variety of marine life was drifting along at odd angles above the reef. There was a moray eel, a large stingray, a small shark, and a few other fish. Simon recognized one as Phineas.

“Oh no,” Owen said. “Are they okay?”

Targa squinted. “They're breathing; I can see their sides moving.”

Phineas wiggled in the water and started to swim, though with a slight tilt—the aquatic version of a limp. He came next to the dome.

Simon put his ear to the wall of water and heard Phineas talking: the same formulas that let him talk through a vesicle clearly worked through the dome.

“I am sorry, friends. I was on my way to guard duty when they made their illegal breach. I gathered as many helpers as I could from the area”—he gestured with his spines to the sea life around him—“but we weren't enough.”

“You tried your best, Phineas,” Simon said. “We'll tell Gilio.”

“Many thanks,” the lionfish said. “And if you should cross fins with these villains, I only ask that you thrash them for me.”

Simon nodded. “Gladly.” The other fish and sea creatures started to stir as Simon turned away from Phineas; the brave guards were recovering. Still, Simon's face fell—their enemies had gotten away and he had no idea where they were going. What could they do now?

I watched as Simon used the Book to contact Gilio and ask him to meet the group back at the cavern. I could sense everyone's tension as Simon and Owen cleared the cavern entrance; they figured the rogue Biology members might be looking for more trouble. They needn't have worried. Most were still unconscious (or, as with Jaynu and Branto, sound asleep), and the others were eager to surrender.

When Simon collapsed the tunnel, he'd disrupted the cavern's artifical lighting and climate control. Without that climate control, the place was as cold as you'd expect something to be at the bottom of the ocean—that is to say, quite. The few traitors that were awake and alert enough to be a possible danger were too busy huddling around the semiconscious Grawley—in battered and exhausted bear form—for warmth.

Alysha lit the place with an arc of electricity, and Simon had no trouble wrapping the collected villains in the firm grip of a gravitational field. It was almost ridiculously easy to transfer them to a special holding cell Gilio had arranged to keep them asleep until the Board of Administration was ready to deal with them.

Gilio had Simon, Alysha, and Owen over for a hearty meal and good night's sleep; their traveling, battling, and chasing had made for an exhausting day. He told Flangelo, Kender, Targa, and Cassaro to join him the next morning for breakfast. Flangelo quietly chirped something about hoping there were no eggs there, but Gilio ignored him.

This left me with some downtime, and I wondered what to do. What could I do? How many times would I have to ask myself that? My job, I was realizing, was an exercise in admitting my own helplessness.

This never bothered me before when chronicling Simon Bloom's life; in fact, there was a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing I had no responsibilities besides watching.

But now . . . now I wanted to be a part of it all. To do something useful. Or, at the very least, to understand more about what was going on. Frankly, it was embarrassing to be almost as clueless as those I watched.

As if in response to my wishes, my Viewing Screen changed scenes. Something was happening. Something important. To celebrate the occasion, I popped two pieces of different flavored gum in my mouth. I took a moment to appreciate why no company had ever marketed peppermint-banana gum, paused to spit out the poorly chosen combo, and watched the new scene take form.

The image shifted to a place I could barely see, which was odd; the Screen had gizmos to counter lighting problems. It should even let me see infrared, ultraviolet, and other wavelengths of light not in the visible spectrum.

Now, though, I could make out a large room with heavy shadows. Several people walked into the room, but the darkness persisted; I could only see shapes.

“Let's get this over with, LaCurru,” said a familiar, gruff thirteen-year-old girl.

The lights went on, revealing many devices with dials and wires; rubber tubes; glass vials and beakers with colorful liquids; and metal: tables, stools . . . even chains. It was a place decorated with style in mind, assuming that style was “Mad Scientist's Lab.”

Sirabetta, Aleadra, and two men entered. One man was average height and average weight with no hair on his head. Not only was he bald . . . but he also had no eyebrows or eyelashes. His skin was so white that most Narrators would call it alabaster or porcelain.