The Octopus Effect (15 page)

“So, can you fix me?” Sirabetta asked with an edge of “you'd better” to her voice.

The woman gestured to a thin mattress in the chamber behind her. “Please, lay down.”

Sirabetta did as she was told. The woman placed her hands on Sirabetta's head and closed her own eyes in concentration.

Long minutes passed like that until finally the old woman sighed. “This is hard work you have for me,” she said. “Using biology to undo physics . . . and strong physics, too. Deep. Not just cells—molecules. No, deeper. At a level that I don't know—that only the Books know, perhaps.”

“Aleadra, please,” Sirabetta said, and for the first time since Wanderby had reminded her of herself, she showed vulnerability. Fear. “As long as I'm stuck like this, I'm powerless! Plus . . . I look like a child.” She frowned. “Not a child—I mean, I'm a teenager, but . . .” She stopped and growled in frustration. “And that's another thing—even with my memory restored, I keep thinking like a thirteen-year-old!”

The woman known as Aleadra brushed some of the blond hairs from where they'd fallen in front of Sirabetta's eyes. “Not easy being young again, is it? Not easy living a different life at the same time as yours. Makes new weaknesses. Maybe makes new strengths, too, yes? Perhaps not all your changes have been bad.”

Sirabetta half-rose from the mattress and gritted her teeth. “Why is it that I can't understand what you're saying half the time?”

“Could be I've always been that way,” Aleadra said. “Enigmatic. Or perhaps retirement has made me seem old and batty. But what matters is that
I
know what I'm saying.”

“We don't have forever, you know,” Sirabetta said. “Three children . . . powerful, interfering children . . . are hunting for me.”

Aleadra nodded. “Yes, with the bird-man. I heard all about it, dear. Don't worry—I have plans for them. I still have plenty of tricks left from when
I
was the Keeper of Biology.” She closed her eyes again. “Now lay back and let's see if we can get you back on track. Whatever track that is.”

“Fine,” Sirabetta said and did as she was told. She closed her eyes, too, prepared to pass the time with thoughts of power . . . and revenge. With the might of this former Keeper on her side, she would not fail again.

“So this is the way to Gilio?” Alysha asked as they stomped along. “No shortcut?”

“This is the way he told me to use,” Flangelo said.

“Maybe
he
should be guiding us,” Alysha said. “You know, important mission?”

Simon swiped at his forehead with his sleeve. “Definitely,” he said. The farther they walked, the hotter and drier it had become.

The sandy floor had long ago given way to rough, uneven stone with jagged points that the kids had to step around carefully. Large, twisted thorn-vines sprawled across the ground; a few twitched as the kids gingerly passed by. There was a bitter smell that stung the kids' nostrils and a heaviness to the air that made it harder to breathe.

Flangelo frowned. “I think we've strayed into one of the savannah regions in its summer phase.”

“What's savannah?” Owen asked.

“It's a place in Georgia,” Alysha said.

“No,” Flangelo said. “Well, yes, but in this case I meant tropical grasslands. Gilio's got a duplicate of every ecosystem on Earth down here, and in every season, too. It can get a little confusing.”

“I'm so glad Gilio made you our guide,” Alysha muttered.

“Do you know where to go from here?” Simon asked.

Rather than respond, Flangelo stared off at something in the distance. Not far beyond them were sparse fields of dry brown grass, about knee-high on Flangelo. Past that, a herd of dozens of large, light brown animals with white and black faces grazed. They were vaguely deerlike but huge; the largest was four feet high at the shoulder, and each had a pair of three-foot-long black horns pointing up from atop their heads.

“Finally,” Simon said. “Wildlife.”

“Like the Nature Channel, but for real,” Owen said.

Alysha noted Flangelo's expression and body language. “What's wrong, birdie?” she asked. “Got a problem with deer or something?”

“They're not deer; they're oryx—an almost extinct species of African antelope. But there's something . . .” Flangelo held up a hand. “Shhh!” he hissed. “Quiet, now!”

The kids followed his gaze to the gently swaying grass. “What's—?” Owen started to say, but Flangelo clapped a hand over his mouth. A second later, the kids saw why. The grasses parted enough for them to catch a glimpse of gray, wrinkly skinned lizards. Though built very low to the ground, they were enormous—over twelve feet long. They'd have to be big to hunt those oryx.

“Those are Komodo dragons stalking the oryx.” Flangelo said in a barely audible whisper. “They're an endangered species, too, but they're also predators. And if we don't leave them to their feast, you three might be on the menu, too.”

“Why would they bother us?” Alysha whispered back. “Wait, you put dangerous animals in your headquarters and let them roam around?”

“They wouldn't attack
Biology
Order members,” Flangelo hissed. “But I don't know how they'd react to you. Now let's—” He stopped talking in midsentence because one of the reptiles paused in its hunting. It turned its head sideways and flicked its tongue several times. Then it ran at full speed—about twelve miles per hour—toward him and the kids. It burst out of the grass, its short legs pounding at the dry dirt as its thick tail pumped from side to side.

Owen looked to Simon, who stood wide-eyed. Owen used velocity on the giant reptile, hurtling it back the way it had come. It hit the grassy ground hard and rolled to its feet; then it stood still, probably stunned or at least cautious, now. The other two Komodo dragons also turned from the oryx and swiftly flicked their tongues.

“That's their main sensory organ,” Flangelo said. “They're literally tasting us.”

All three Komodos ran at Simon and his friends. Simon shuddered. “We're not here to fight,” he said quietly. He changed the pull of gravity on the Komodos so a spot in the distance acted like their ground. They started to slide backward on the dirt, scrabbling at it with their claws as they fell away from Simon and his friends. That ground was no longer regular dirt and grass to them—it was more like a vertical wall they were trying to cling to.

“Wait-anyone-notice-anything-weird?” Owen asked.

“You mean besides the attack of the killer iguanas?” Alysha asked.

“Yeah.” Owen pointed to the herd of oryx. “Those guys aren't running off.”

Simon looked at the huge antelope. “Maybe they're curious about us.”

Owen shook his head. “That's not how it works on nature shows. Curiosity is bad for prey animals—they're supposed to scatter the second they know there's a predator, and then the predators take down the slowest one.”

The oryx all cocked their heads in the same direction at the same time. They flicked their round ears in eerie synchronicity. Then, as a unit, they started to move.

“No,” Flangelo said in a confused tone. “They're coming toward us!”

The antelope ran fast, their hooves pounding the dirt as they moved. They burst through the grass with their horns aimed down, poised to spear the kids.

“What's going on here, Flangelo?” Simon demanded.

Flangelo shook his head. “I've never heard of such a thing,” he said.

Owen used his velocity control on the oryx running in the front of the herd, knocking them sideways to trip the antelope alongside them. Those immediately behind the fallen stumbled over their herd mates, and many in the back came to a stop. Others, however, went around the traffic jam and kept coming, their lethal-looking horns ready for shish kebabing. The fallen oryx, unhurt, slowly got to their feet, too. The herd spread itself out to cover more ground.

Simon went pale; this was getting worse and worse . . . and he was in charge, wasn't he? “I guess . . . I'll stop them.” He reached out with gravity, straining to focus his attention on so many animals over such a wide area. In doing so, he let his grip on the Komodos slip. With the dirt floor suddenly acting as their ground again, the three monstrous reptiles resumed their attack. They ran alongside the oryx, passing right by them—even those that were still getting to their feet. Neither species reacted to the other, as if they'd forgotten all about that whole eat/be eaten thing.

“No,” Simon moaned. “I made it worse! Everyone, grab your things—we're getting out of here!” Simon made his friends and himself weightless and they quickly linked hands. “Don't bother changing, Flangelo. We can move faster through velocity.”

Owen sent them soaring from the trees and far from the animals' reach.

“I don't understand,” Flangelo squawked loudly to be heard over the roar of the wind. “They shouldn't have acted like that!”

“Worry about that later,” Alysha said. “First figure out where we're going.”

Flangelo shielded his eyes from the hot air blowing past and pointed. “There!”

Owen shifted his formula, sending them veering over increasingly stony ground. Soon they approached a lone, forbidding-looking tree with a thick gray trunk. It was over fifty feet high and twelve feet wide. The tree was barren of leaves or fruit; its rootlike branches were bent and curled, most extending outward like grasping fingers. It was easily the freakiest-looking tree I'd ever seen.

They landed at its base. Once they let go of one anothers' hands, Simon grasped at his head and stomach. That queasy, something-wrong feeling was hitting him again. “This tree . . . it's not normal,” Simon said.

“I like it just fine,” Gilio said, stepping out from the other side of the massive, gnarled thing. “Don't take it personally, Clive,” he said, patting the trunk.

“Gilio!” Flangelo said with relief.

“What took you so long?” Gilio asked. “What were you doing, sightseeing?”

Four faces frowned back at him.

“Anyone else think we should feed him to the Komodos?” Alysha asked; the others raised their hands and chuckled.

Flangelo and the kids filled Gilio in on what happened.

“This is very concerning,” Gilio said. “I'm glad you're all safe. It's bad enough some of my Order members behaved so poorly, but the animals, too?”

“I saw a show on Komodos,” Owen said. “They're not from Africa, are they?”

“No, Indonesia,” Gilio said. “It's also a savannah climate. My dome has lots of animals and plants from different countries and time periods sharing ecosystems.”

“That sounds unnatural,” Simon said.

“Oh?” Flangelo said. “Says Mr. Gravity Keeper?”

“No, he's right,” Owen said. “Wouldn't that mess with their lifestyles?”

“Maybe that's what screwed up the predator-prey relationship,” Alysha said.

“It shouldn't have,” Gilio said. “Trust me, the dome system has been working for decades; animals from different parts of the world and different time periods—sometimes even many thousands of year apart—have behaved normally until today.” He shook his head. “Perhaps the Book has an insight into why they attacked.”

He reached into his pants pocket and, in a move that defied all physical laws, pulled out his textbook-size, green-covered
Teacher's Edition of Biology
. Noting their stares, Gilio smiled. “The Books follow their own rules; you'll get the hang of it, Bloom.” The Book pulled free of Gilio's grasp and hovered over his head.