The Great Powers Outage (15 page)

NAME:
Spaghetti Man.
POWER:
An ability to fire strands of wet spaghetti from his fingertips.
LIMITATIONS:
The sauce has to be prepared the traditional way.
CAREER:
Despite the obvious career one would have expected, given his family's pasta business, Spaghetti Man turned to a life of crime fighting, eventually joining the League of Ultimate Goodness.
CLASSIFICATION:
As dangerous to criminals as a wet noodle.

“I see the league is performing at their usual level of efficiency,” I commented to the Amazing Indestructo.

“Just give 'em a chance . . .” he started to say, and then fell silent.

I followed his eyes to where they had focused on an elephant across the playground. It had just begun to charge toward us.

“Uh-oh,” I agreed, as at the exact same moment the school bell rang and kids from all the other classes came rushing out for the morning recess. “You've got to do something.”

“Are you kidding?” AI blurted out. “Look at the size of that thing. I'm getting out of here.”

“You're indestructible!” I screamed back at him. “Act like it for a change.”

He was about to start up his jet pack, but I reached over and yanked out one of its power cables.

“Hey!” he yelled. “What are you trying to do?”

“You're not going to run out on your fans, are you? It's going to really hurt your sales if anything happens to a group of kids while you stand by,” I pointed out as both he and I noticed the rampaging elephant getting closer and closer.

The Human Compass was right in its path but then darted off to the north. Major Bummer, who sat nearby with his head slumped while a pack of hyenas ridiculed him, simply got up and walked in the opposite direction. Whistlin' Dixie managed to get her lasso around one of the elephant's tusks, but she was no match for an animal that size, and her rope was yanked right out of her hands. That left only the Amazing Indestructo, who, realizing he had no choice, decided to make the most of the situation.

“Step back kids,” he boomed in his best TV hero voice. “The Amazing Indestructo is here to save the day.”

As the kids let out a cheer, he barreled straight at the charging beast. It didn't take long for AI to notice with horror that the elephant had suddenly sprouted a second set of tusks. And then a third. And then a fourth, fifth, and sixth. I could only imagine the horror in the Amazing Indestructo's eyes. But it was too late for him to do anything now.

Like the thundering sound of a dozen cannons, the indestructible hero and the unstoppable force collided. When the dust finally cleared, none of us could believe what we saw. The multitusked elephant had been knocked back on its rear and looked a little dazed. But crumpled in a heap in front of him was the Amazing Indestructo. He was practically pulverized.

“Ow . . .” was the one solitary word that emerged softly from his contorted lips.

We all held our collective breath as Whistlin' Dixie ran to his aid.

“Tarnation! Someone git some help,” she hollered in a panic. “The Amazing Indestructo's been—” the very impossibility of the word caught in her voice “—hurt!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Faded Genes

It wasn't hard to guess what was going to be on the front page of the newspaper on Saturday morning. I retrieved our copy of the
Superopolis Times
from the front porch and there, front and center, was one of the largest headlines I'd ever seen: AI INJURED!!!! And yes, it had four exclamation points. Below, in slightly smaller type, it asked the question: INDESTRUCTIBLE NO MORE?? Here they used only two question marks. I brought it into the kitchen where Mom and Dad were preparing breakfast.

“I can't believe it,” my dad said as he read the headline over my shoulder. “How could someone who's indestructible be hurt by anything?”

Dad had a frying pan resting on his palm and was busy scrambling eggs. My mom was setting out milk, orange juice, and a bowl of AI's Maple Glazed Pseudo-Chips. I sampled one of them. It was as disgusting as you might imagine.

“If he were still around, I might think that Professor Brain-Drain was somehow responsible for this,” Mom said as she focused her gaze on my glass of milk to get it extra cold. “But clearly he isn't.”

“Thanks to our little hero,” my dad said proudly as he gave me a mock punch in the arm.

Instinctively, I recoiled. Not because Dad had hit me too hard, but rather to keep from getting an imprint of his superhot hand on my skin. Oddly, his fist was only lukewarm at best. I probably wouldn't have thought anything more about it, except Dad brought over the frying pan and proceeded to scrape a portion of half-cooked, curdled-looking eggs onto my plate.

“Dad, are you okay?” I asked. My mom was suddenly concerned as well.

“Thermo, what's the matter?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he replied, obviously agitated. “Everything is just fine.”

For about thirty seconds he succeeded in maintaining his facade of confidence—then he broke down and began blubbering into his hands.

“I don't know what's happening,” he sobbed as only a mild hint of steam was given off. “Ever since I woke up, I haven't been able to generate anything other than a mild heat. What's happening to me?! Oh, and we also got fired as the spokesteam for Maximizer Brand Snack Cakes.”

“There, there, dear,” she attempted to calm him. “Everything will be— Wait, you also got fired?”

I nodded encouragingly to my dad to fess up as I picked up my glass of milk. I hadn't taken more than a sip before my blood ran cold—for the simple reason that my milk was anything
but
cold.

“Mom?” I asked nervously as I set the glass back down. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm just fine,” she snapped back a little peevishly. “See?”

She took a hard stare at my orange juice, I think in an attempt to freeze it solid. But nothing happened. In desperation, she tried again—and failed again. Her face betrayed a number of emotions all at once—fear, frustration, worry—and then her natural calm took control.

“Whatever has affected the Amazing Indestructo is clearly affecting us as well,” she admitted. “With or without powers, it's up to us to figure out the cause.”

The cause! Of course! Something had to be causing this loss of power that had hit Mayor Whitewash, Lobster Boy, AI, and now my parents. What had changed over the last week that could possibly be behind this? Then I looked at the bowl of chips, and the Red Menace's threat came back to me. He had said he was going to make everybody equal. Taking away their powers would certainly accomplish that, but could his PseudoChips really do that?

“Mom, Dad! Maybe it's the chips!” I blurted out.

“What do you mean, OB?” my mom asked.

“Well,” I said. “They
are
the only thing that's changed in our day-to-day routine. Maybe they're responsible for your power loss!”

“That's ridiculous,” my mom said defensively. “How could potato chips do something like that?”

“I don't know,” I admitted, “but nothing else makes sense. I think you should stop eating them.”

“Don't be silly.” My mom laughed. “Just because you don't like them is no reason to scare us away from them.”

“I can't lose my power
and
my Pseudo-Chips in the same day,” my dad said, sniffling. “I just couldn't handle it.”

“You won't need to, dear,” my mom said confidently as she stood up. “We're going to figure out the real cause of this mystery. It's time to gather up the New—” she paused only momentarily, and with only a hint of a cringe “—New Crusaders.”

“It'll be just like old times,” Dad said with a wide grin. “Thermo and Snowflake, together again on the job.”

While my parents planned their new mission, I remained at the table, my own concern undiminished. My parents were still under the control of the Red Menace, so I was going to have to find someone who wasn't. I was going to need the Junior Leaguers.

I called everyone to announce an unscheduled emergency meeting and then practically ran to Stench's house. I was in such a hurry that I didn't even notice the wire that had been pulled tight between two particularly close piles of tires in his dad's junkyard. I fell right into Fuzz Boy's trap. Zippy appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my legs, and pinned them to the ground. Fuzz Boy was on me a second later, pulling back each of my arms and kneeling on them, leaving me totally immobile.

“We set this trap to catch some of these freaky animals,” Fuzz Boy sneered. “But you'll do fine instead.”

“Do something really funny, Fuzz,” Zippy said with a crazy grin on his face, “like growing hair in his ears.”

“I think what O Boy here is going to need when I'm done with him is an all-over shave,” Fuzz Boy said menacingly. “And we'll start with a
really
long beard.”

As much as I struggled, I was no match for the two fourteen-year-olds, and Fuzz Boy cupped his hands around my cheeks and chin. I felt a tickle as the beard began to grow, but then I sensed some irritation on Fuzz Boy's part.

“What's the matter?” Zippy asked. “That's not much of a beard.”

“Give me a second,” Fuzz Boy said in obvious annoyance. “I'm working on it.”

But nothing more was growing, with the exception of Fuzz Boy's anger and frustration. For a moment I was amused, but then I realized an enraged Fuzz Boy was even more dangerous. I needed out of here.

“HEELLLLPP!” I shouted out from behind Fuzz Boy's frantically gripping hands.

“No one can hear you, little dude,” Zippy said. But he was wrong.

Only a minute or two later a shadow fell across us. Fuzz Boy and I looked up to find a very angry Stench. My best friend didn't even say a word. He just wound up his arm and punched Fuzz Boy so hard that the creep went flying into a stack of tires over eight feet away. Zippy freaked out and bolted for home. Even at his speed, though, he couldn't evade a long, powerful tongue that shot out and encircled one of his feet. As it was whipped out from under him, he tripped and fell howling into a tangle of used TV antennas.

“Are you okay?” Hal asked me as he helped me to my feet.

“What did he do to me?” I asked in a panic as my hands went for my face. All I could feel, though, was stubble.

“It's just a five o'clock shadow,” Stench said. “It's lucky we got here so fast.”

“That's just it,” I said, “you didn't get here that fast. He was on top of me for three or four minutes. This was the best he could do.”

“Fuzz Boy, too?” said Plasma Girl with alarm. “First Lobster Boy, then AI, and now Stench's brother? Maybe this power loss is only happening to nasty people.”

“That would be nice,” I said as I scratched at the uncomfortable whiskers, “except it happened to my mom and dad this morning. And don't forget Mayor Whitewash.”

“It happened to my mom, too,” Halogen Boy added with more than a hint of concern.

“That's just too freaky,” Tadpole said. “What's causing this? And how do we stop it from affecting us?”

“I think I know,” I announced. “And if I'm right, it's time for us to pay a visit to the one person who can do something about it.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Hero Reviled

“You're saying that AI's Pseudo-Chips could be what's causing people to lose their powers,” Tadpole repeated as we walked toward downtown. Other than a run-in with a particularly slobbery camel, we had so far managed to avoid any dangerous animal encounters.

“The Red Menace himself
told
us that they would be his tool for making everyone the same,” I reminded them. “At the time, I had no idea what he could have possibly meant by that, but now it all makes sense.”

“It does?” asked Halogen Boy.

“Think about it,” I said. “Has anything changed over the past week other than people's constant consumption of these chips?”

“No, everyone is eating them,” Stench pointed out. “Except us.”

“Thanks to O Boy,” Halogen Boy added.

“But that means everyone else is going to lose their powers,” Plasma Girl said.

“Unless we get these phony chips off the market,” I concluded as we came to a stop outside our destination—Crania-Superiore Hospital. “And there's only one person who can do that.”

Passing through the front door, I led us right up to the main nurse's station. A woman with surprisingly wide, vacant-looking eyes was sitting at the desk. I glanced at her nameplate.

“Umm, Nurse Slaphappy?” I cleared my throat. “We're looking for the Amazing Indestructo.”

“I'm sorry,” she said cheerfully. “No children are allowed in the patients' rooms.”

This threw me for a moment, and I instinctively found my fingers tugging at my still-stubbly chin. Then an idea struck!