The Great Powers Outage (19 page)

The tunnel became brighter and brighter as we moved forward, and I could make out the creatures that had captured us. What I had first taken to be living creatures, I could now see were actually made of metal. These were machines! Where could they possibly have come from? And more important, what were they going to do with us?

For a moment I had a ray of hope that Stench had been able to fight off the creatures and escape. But then I saw that the crabs bringing up the rear had him secured as well. He was struggling but unable to overcome them. My heart sank. If Stench couldn't break free, what chance did any of us have?

“Help! Help!” Tadpole screeched. “Let go of me, you metal misfits.”

What really surprised me was how big the creatures actually were. From a distance, I had guessed they were maybe a foot long, a foot wide, and a foot high. In reality they must have been three times that size!

As they carried us down the slope of the cavern and onto the chamber floor, I had a chance to stare ahead at the main mass of metal monsters. They were clustered alongside the stream. Only then did I notice a human figure standing amid them.

“O Boy! What are we going to do?!” Plasma Girl cried out in fear. “I can't get away from these things.”

Whatever fear she was feeling couldn't possibly compare to the chill that ran down my spine as I realized we were being delivered into the waiting clutches of Professor Brain-Drain himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A Fiendish Plot

How Professor Brain-Drain had managed to return from one hundred and thirty million years in the past was a mystery that seemed of minor importance at the moment. He had us in his power—at precisely the same instant that my friends had lost the use of theirs.

“Well, now, what have my Crush-staceans found?” he asked with a malevolent chuckle. “I believe I recognize this crop of junior do-gooders.” His eyes wandered from one of my friends to another before finally coming to rest on me. “And here's the most meddlesome of all.”

“How did you escape?” I demanded as I struggled in vain against the metallic crablike creature that held me captive. “You should still be stranded in the past.”

“Yes, I should be.” He smiled enigmatically. “But that's only if one assumes I was ever there to begin with.”

“I know you were,” I asserted. “I sent you there.”

“Indeed you almost did,” he said, glaring at me. “And you would have succeeded if it hadn't been for the emergency escape hatch I had installed in the interior of my Time Tipler.”

“Escape hatch?” I replied dumbly, feeling somehow I had been cheated.

“Yes,” he replied dryly. “No genius leaves himself without an exit plan. Nevertheless, I hesitated before using it, and only barely escaped before the Tipler did its thing.”

“Why would you have hesitated?” I asked even as I realized the answer on my own.

“Because, by leaving the Tipler, I, too, could have been destroyed by this approaching meteor.” His hand swung up to indicate the enormous mass of prodigium mounted above us. “It took me a moment to make a calculated decision. Surely you know what that was.”

“Yes,” I grudgingly admitted. “You had to decide if you were in a worse position facing the meteor or being stranded one hundred and thirty million years in the past.”

“Correct.” He beamed. “And do you know ultimately why I chose to stay with the endangered citizens of Superopolis?”

“Because it would have been very boring for someone determined to destroy civilization to be stuck in a time before people even existed?” I hazarded a guess.

“Well, no.” He shook his head. “Not that your point isn't valid. But my main reason was I had faith in
your
ability to figure out a way to save Superopolis and return it—and me—to the present.”

“What??!” I said, both appalled yet oddly pleased.

“Oh, don't pretend to be so modest,” he pooh-poohed. “You're well aware that you don't possess the same empty shell of a head as most of the residents of this city.”

“But what are you doing down here?” I asked. “I mean, with this meteorite?”

“Ah, yes.” He clucked. “You, of course, have also recognized it as prodigium, haven't you?”

“Only as we entered this chamber,” I admitted. “I never suspected before we came here.”

“Really?” said the Professor, “then what possessed you to take this dangerous trek under the mountains? Something must have provoked your curiosity.”

“I was curious if anything remained of the meteorite after sixty-five million years,” I said, determined not to reveal my treasure hunt scheme. In truth, I wondered what the value of this meteorite might even be. Prodigium was considered priceless when nobody thought any existed. What it was worth in huge supply was anyone's guess. And what kind of effects might this much prodigium be having on the people of Superopolis? I was beginning to get a whopper of an idea.

“Well, let me tell you why I am here,” he said as he lapsed into the habit of every villain of explaining himself. “I had always been aware that a meteor impact created the topographical features of Superopolis. And long ago I was able to calculate exactly when it had happened, thanks to my analysis of the rock strata and soil erosion patterns of the Carbunkle Mountains. But I always assumed that the meteor itself had been obliterated upon impact. I never imagined that it could have been made up of pure prodigium until I saw it in person. In those last few minutes while you were saving the city, I was observing its approach from my hiding spot. I was astounded to see that it was, indeed, prodigium—a substance I always thought to be practically nonexistent.”

“I remember,” I said. “You waited twenty-five years for me to return with the one small chunk that you needed to operate the Tipler.”

“Exactly. So just imagine the marvelous ideas I've gotten as I've thought about what I could do with a million times as much of the power-packed substance.”

“I shudder to think . . .” I started to say.

“You should,” he replied, as his eyebrows scrunched menacingly. “Because it also has occurred to me that this much power could very well be the answer to a mystery that has baffled me my entire life. . . . Could it be the cause of the unique powers of every citizen of Superopolis?”

I couldn't hide my sharp intake of breath. “See?” I turned to my captive friends. “He thinks powers are caused by something, too!”

“O Boy,” Plasma Girl replied with disgust, “he's an evil villain. I would hardly point to him as support for your theory.”

“Of course powers are caused by something,” the Professor said dismissively. “Everything has a cause. And this meteorite—this gargantuan chunk of prodigium—must somehow be radiating
its
power in the creation of
our
powers.”

I was so disturbed over the fact that Professor Brain-Drain and I had been thinking along identical lines once again that I almost missed his next statement.

“That is why I must now destroy it.”

“What?!” I said. Looks of horror appeared on my friends' faces. If the Professor was right, and he succeeded in his plan, it would be devastating for them.

“Why would you do that?” I asked in alarm.

“Because I can,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I've deduced that it must be the water streaming around the base of the meteorite that is actually being affected. As it flows out of the mountains, it then enters the Superopolis water supply. For a week now, my trusty Crush-staceans have been chipping away at the base of the meteorite. Soon it will be completely clear of the stream. Even now the effects must be beginning to be felt throughout the city.”

I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of confirming that he was right, but as he looked at my helpless friends and gave a knowing smirk, I knew he already had all the proof he needed.

“In a matter of hours they will have removed all of it that intrudes into the river,” he continued. “Once they have, the water in this chamber will cease to provide its benefit, and the citizens of Superopolis will be left bereft of their powers.”

“But what about you?” I pointed out. “You'll lose your power as well.”

“What would you say if I told you I lost my power over ten years ago?” He smiled cryptically.

“Huh?” I said in astonishment. “But I know that's not true.”

“Do you?” The Professor pushed the point. “Have you ever seen me actually drain anybody's brain?”

I went silent as I thought back over my previous meetings with the Professor. He was right. I never had seen him actually use his power. He
had
used his Brain Capacitor to drain away the intelligence of a number of victims. This included the actors who had played him on TV, all of whom were turned into Dumbots.

“But you've tried draining my own brain a bunch of different times,” I countered.

“Tried, yes,” he admitted, “but never succeeded.”

“If you have no power, why try at all?” I asked.

“When one is perpetrating a charade, it's important to play along with the game,” he replied. “People believed I could drain their brains because I acted as if I could. In the meantime, I developed alternative methods to achieve the same effect.”

“Like the Brain Capacitor and the Oomphlifier?” I asked.

“Exactly,” he replied. “Thankfully, I retained all the intelligence I had absorbed during the years my power was effective, and I used that intelligence to find a solution to my dilemma. The Brain Capacitor, which you children almost had a chance to experience, is a mechanical version of my own power. It can sap the intelligence of anyone I strap into it. The problem is that it's the size of a cement truck and isn't very practical outside my laboratory.”

“And the Oomphlifier?”

“I invented a power-magnification device under the assumption that I could restore my power by amplifying it,” he said as he reached over to a pitcher of water that was sitting on a nearby table. It was full of ice cubes. “That, too, failed to achieve its primary goal.”

I cringed at the thought that I had tried to use the Oomphlifier for the exact same purpose.

“I even modified the colander on my head with the controls necessary to mentally direct my mechanical creations,” he added as he silently instructed the Crush-staceans to lower us to the ground while still keeping our limbs immobile. “In ten years I've discovered thousands of ways to extract, store, and manipulate brain power. I just haven't figured out how to reinstate my original power—until now!”

An involuntary shudder ran through my body as the Professor picked up a glass and began pouring himself some water.

“You may all be wondering why I revealed something so personal.” He chuckled as he filled his glass and set the pitcher down. It was only then that I noticed that what I had thought were ice cubes floating in the water were actually small chunks of prodigium. “The reason is that you won't possess that knowledge for very long. You will, however, have the honor of being the first victims to have your brains drained the old-fashioned way in over a decade.”

He took one drink out of the glass of water before setting it back down and then confidently approached me as I struggled against the steely claws of the Crush-stacean.

“It truly is a pity,” was all he said as his finger reached out and came to rest on my forehead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Escape from the Caverns

Oddly, nothing happened. At least I didn't think anything was happening. I certainly didn't feel myself getting dumber. The Professor's face was wrinkling in annoyance. He lifted his finger and then once again pressed it against my skull. Still nothing. Professor Brain-Drain's face twisted into a snarl as he began repeatedly poking me in the head.

“Stop that!” I finally blurted out in irritation.

“Aaarrrgghhh!” he erupted in a howling cry of frustration.