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Authors: Michael Reisman

BOOK: The Gravity Keeper
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CHAPTER 37
H
ER
F
INAL
O
FFER

Simon, Alysha, and Owen froze as Sirabetta became visible; she was leaning on a tree down the path between them and the chasm. She was wearing her hood and sucking on a soda through a straw. (At least it looked like she was sucking on the straw; the thin plastic tube disappeared into the cavernous darkness of her hood.)

“Seriously, kids, could you move any slower?”
She gestured past them.
“Veenie and I got here by Gateway at least ten minutes ago.”

I gulped; that explained all the puddles on Van Silas Way!

The kids looked to where Sirabetta pointed and saw Mermon Veenie step onto the trail from behind a tree. He was between them and the Van Silas entrance to the woods, blocking off any chance of them going back the way they came. They were trapped.

Sirabetta sighed, the hood distorting the sound so it resembled a humming refrigerator. She tossed back her hood. “Ah, now I can see you better.”

Mermon's teeny-tiny eyes narrowed microscopically, and he growled at the kids, “I don't care that you three turned my son Marcus into a whimpering mess and the laughingstock of your gym class. I don't even care that you made me look like a fool on Saturday. If you give me the Book, you may live to see puberty.”

Sirabetta arched a beauteous eyebrow. “Give
you
the Book, Veenie?” she called out. “Don't tell me you're going to pull one of those last-minute power-struggle things; it's so trite.”

Mermon's eyes widened to the size of nickels, which, for them, was huge. “Of course not, Sir. You know I'm loyal.”

“Yes, like a faithful dog with rabies,” she said. “Don't fret; once I've mastered the
Teacher's Edition
and gotten these tattoos off my skin, you and your confederates will get the power you crave.”

“You're pretty calm,” Alysha said. “I figured you'd be in a much worse mood after Simon and Owen kicked your butts.”

Sirabetta's smile vanished. “Aren't you sweet? No, wait, you're not.” She pulled up a corner of her coat, revealing several purplish bruises among the tattoos. “Your friend's trick with gravity gave me this new color scheme. I'm not a fan. But want to know why I'm so cheerful?”

Simon, Alysha, and Owen nodded nervously.

Sirabetta pointed to a half-green, half-yellow tattoo on her other knee. “A painkiller formula! I first chose it to help me deal with the strain of all these tattoos, but it works just fine on injuries. Unfortunately, it doesn't work while I'm using another formula. Worsening pain makes me cranky, and when I'm cranky, things get blown up. So why don't you do the smart thing? I
know
you've had a rough day and your paltry few formulas are all but used up. And I
know
you will be screaming in agony in a few minutes if you don't hand over my Book.”

“So what's your plan after that, Sara Beth?” Simon asked.

Mermon's jaw dropped. “That's your real name?”

“Shut up, Veenie.” Sirabetta frowned. “You kids have been doing some research, hmm?”

Sirabetta looked up into the sky, as if she could actually see me watching from my apartment. I shuddered and snacked nervously on a scone.

Simon continued, “Is it because you're mad at your ex-husband? Is that what this is all about?”

Sirabetta crossed her arms. “Is this your way of staving off terror, boy?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?” Owen asked.

“And even the tiny one shows a backbone,” Sirabetta said. “Trying to find out the villain's plot before she kills you? So overdone. But I'll tell you this…once I have that Book, I'll get rid of all the Physics formulas I'm wearing and have all that power without the pain. I'll get the other Books, one by one, until I've toppled the Council of Sciences. Then I can turn my attention to the rest of the Knowledge Union. And I will have my revenge.” She seemed to concentrate very hard on not cackling evilly and, with great effort, succeeded. She got away with only a villainous glint in her eyes.

“It's your own fault!” Alysha shouted. “You tried to take over the Order of Psychology!”

Sirabetta waved a fist. “Solomonder had it coming! After we divorced, he started excluding me from the Order. He made me feel like I didn't belong. I couldn't stand for that. Did you know that there is no protocol for a transfer? I had no way of leaving the Order of Psychology for another Order or group even if I wanted to. Even if I was willing to give up on psychology, which was my life. I grew up loving the science of the mind, but I would've left and found another Order if it meant I could stay in the Union. No chance, though; I was stuck.”

She paused and looked away. “What choice did I have?” Her angry tone had turned sad. “I didn't
want
to be a villain, but it was the only way out of my misery. And when my rebellion was put down, I was kicked to the side. Left to rot.”

“But you were supposed to forget about the Order and go to prison and all that!” Owen said. “So how are you here?”

Sirabetta folded her arms proudly. “I am no fool, child. I didn't stage my revolt without a good backup plan. And if you're in the Order of Psychology, you learn the best mental tricks. They do wonders for resisting mind wipes or sneaking past guards in Outsider prisons.”

“Fine, they were jerks, but that's no excuse to act like a maniac!” Alysha yelled.

Sirabetta shook her head. “Maniac? It's not like I've killed anybody…yet.” She grinned cruelly. “You know why the Board of Administration didn't lift a finger when Solomonder did what he did? The only way they'll directly intervene with an Order is if the Keeper dies. And that's why I won't kill Solomonder until I'm absolutely ready. I can't kill Ralfagon and you, Simon; the entire BOA would know. Though after all your open formula use, they're bound to investigate sooner or later. The Union is very focused on secrecy.”

“For now,” Mermon sneered.

“That's right, Veenie. Once I'm ready, when I have all the power I need, I'll be able to ignore all the Union's precious rules. I'll change the entire system so that what happened to me can't happen again. If the Union doesn't accept me, I'll be viewed as a tyrant. I can live with that. But
I
will be fair.
I
will be just.”

“What about the tattoos?” Simon asked. “How'd you do that?”

Sirabetta shook her head. “No. I'm keeping some secrets. Now, my patience is gone, and this painkiller formula is keeping me only so pleasant.” She sighed. “I don't want to have to fight you; I don't want to hurt you. I won't even try to strip you of your powers and control your life, like the Order of Physics would do if they got hold of you. But I've suffered and sacrificed too much to let you stop me now. So I'll make you one final offer, young Simon. Emphasis on
final
. Give me the Book, or your friends will get a free ride on a lightning bolt. Your choice.”

Alysha folded her arms and glared at Sirabetta. “We've had enough of your whole ‘bad guy with a purpose' routine. A crybaby story, if you ask me.”

Owen reached down to the ground and picked up a thick branch. “You want the Book, you come and get it, lady.”

Simon smiled. “You heard them. I'm sorry about what you went through, but a bully's a bully. The Book stays with me.”

Sirabetta rubbed at her glowing painkiller tattoo and frowned. “So be it.” She gestured toward Simon. “Veenie, just stun or wound him, but I want to see the others in ashes.”

CHAPTER 38
I
T'S
A
LL
F
UN AND
G
AMES
U
NTIL
S
OMEONE
G
ETS
H
IT BY
L
IGHTNING

Mermon showed his teeth with a smile that would put most sharks to shame. He spoke his formula and pointed at the kids. As a bluish glow formed around his hands, Alysha spoke her own formula.

A sonic boom split the air as a bolt of lightning blasted out from Mermon Veenie's fingertips. A jagged blue-and-white streak as thick as his arm seared the air as it leapt toward the kids. Alysha's formula drew it off course, and it veered to her as if she were a human lightning rod.

The bolt struck her chest with a terrible crackling sound. Alysha cried out in surprise, but she wasn't hurt. Every bit of the lightning's electrical charge soaked into her, leaving her unharmed.

Mermon was baffled; this was not how lightning was supposed to behave. He changed the wording of his formula, and his entire body was surrounded by that bluish glow. With the altered command, he gathered an immense electrical charge in his body. This time, the lightning burst out of every inch of him, from hair to heels. It was more than an entire thundercloud could generate, and he unleashed it all at once. This was a mistake.

A six-foot-four-inch-high, two-foot-wide onslaught of sizzling electrical power tore through the air with a deafening roar. Alysha, Owen, and a chunk of the forest should have been vaporized, but again, the attack was sucked into Alysha. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as her entire body was enveloped by Veenie's blindingly intense energy. With her formula activated, she kept draining everything Veenie had.

By the time Veenie realized what was happening, it was too late. He couldn't reverse his formula—the floodgates were jammed open. He cried out until his voice cracked as he was drained of all electrical power.

At last the lightning flow stopped, leaving Veenie's once-immaculate suit charred and blackened. Wisps of smoke curled out from his body. His tiny eyes were unfocused, his mouth drooped, and he stood unsteadily.

Sirabetta stared in confusion. “Veenie? What happened?”

Simon glanced at Alysha, her entire body glowing bluish white with energy, and she gave him a thumbs-up.

“Owen, now!” Simon shouted.

Owen didn't bother with his formula. Instead, he raised his branch, yelled fiercely, and charged at Veenie.

Veenie, dazed, had no chance to react before the thick branch smacked into his stomach. He pitched forward, and Owen brought the branch down on his back, hard. The branch snapped in two from the impact, but Owen didn't stop. He took both halves, one in each hand, and pounded away like a drummer doing a solo.

“Stop it, you brat!” Sirabetta hissed. She pulled one sleeve back and scanned the tattoos, preparing to unleash some terrible attack on him.

Simon nodded to Alysha. Alysha plunged her hands into her bag and pulled out assorted coins, screws, and other small pieces of metal she'd taken from Myarina's and Loisana's purses and the playground battlefield. Filled to the bursting point with electricity, she spoke the command words to release her electrical charge. She poured much of her stored-up energy into the metal and threw both handfuls at Sirabetta.

Sirabetta stopped her tattoo search and instinctively raised her arms as the glowing projectiles struck her, the path, and the forest around her. She screamed as each tiny object released massive bursts of blinding blue-white energy on impact, blowing huge holes into the trail and tearing apart surrounding trees.

The explosions were over in a few seconds, leaving an astonished Simon, Alysha, and Owen staring in awe at the cloud of smoke and dust.

“I didn't think it would be so much,” Alysha whispered hoarsely. “What did I
do
to her?”

The woods' trademark Breeze kicked in, clearing away the haze and revealing a twelve-foot-wide, four-foot-deep crater that now lay across the path.

To the kids' horror, Sirabetta was standing, unhurt, in the middle of it.

CHAPTER 39
T
HE
L
AST
S
TAND

Sirabetta coughed and looked down at what was left of her hooded coat. “You idiots!” she spat. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to steal that thing?” She smacked at the smoldering fabric, and it collapsed into a pile of ash at her feet. “Now it's only fit for a dustpan.”

Underneath, Sirabetta was wearing a formfitting, black rubber outfit like a wet suit. It left her arms exposed to the shoulder and her legs bare to midthigh, revealing her scores of tattoos and more bruises from their earlier fight.

Sirabetta took a deep, calming breath as the painkilling formula on her other knee began to glow again. “A good try, though. Too bad for you I've got this.” She pointed to another half-green, half-yellow tattoo just above her left elbow. “It activates on contact, insulating my body against electricity.” She shrugged. “When you ally yourself with a dog like Mermon Veenie, you take precautions.”

Simon recovered from his surprise quickly and reached into his backpack, whipping out his paintball gun.

Sirabetta snorted. “Child, this is not the time for toys.” Then she yelped with pain as Simon started firing—like I said, those paintballs really sting when they hit bare skin. He managed to get off several shots before Sirabetta spat out a formula and snapped her fingers. The resulting air pressure explosion destroyed the gun and sent Simon sprawling onto the ground.

“You little brat!” Sirabetta yelled. “What did that accomplish besides annoying me?” Then she looked down at her legs, where most of Simon's shots had struck. There were splotches of fresh paint covering numerous tattoos. “No! What have you done?”

She swiped at the paint and managed to smear some off, but the damage was done. Enough of her tattoos were covered, including the silver explosive one and the one she'd used to generate heat. Until she could get that paint off, she couldn't read them—those formulas were useless.

“That's it? Did you really think that would stop me?” Sirabetta said.

Instead of answering her, Simon looked to Alysha and Owen. “Go!” he yelled.

Alysha pulled the remaining metal items from her pockets and poured what was left of Veenie's electrical energy into them. They couldn't hurt Sirabetta, but there were other ways to use them.

Simon concentrated and shifted his gravity control, using a variation on an old trick.

Owen saw only one useful weapon around him and grabbed at it with his velocity formula.

Suddenly, Sirabetta was besieged from all sides. Simon had altered gravity just as he had during the battle in the street, making Sirabetta the center of attraction for the loose items in the woods. She swatted and kicked at sticks and stones that streaked toward her.

As Sirabetta dodged a zooming rock, she also had to dive away from Alysha's strikes. Electrical bombs struck thick branches or small trees' trunks, making them falling hazards. Everywhere Sirabetta turned, heavy chunks of wood dropped toward her. Even when she dodged these tree parts, Simon's formula added them to the growing collection of objects that fell toward her.

Owen's assault was the hardest to avoid, though. He used velocity to hurl the unconscious Veenie at Sirabetta. Mermon Veenie was tall and heavy, and every time he zoomed past, Sirabetta had to duck or leap out of the way.

Sirabetta snarled; she was getting tired and battered. After swatting a cluster of speeding leaves away from her face, she read a yellow tattoo on her shoulder: her deforestation formula. The leaves crumbled to ash just before they could hit her again.

“Enough!” she yelled. A large piece of tree trunk fell toward her head, but she quickly redirected her formula. The trunk smoldered and crumbled into several small fragments that fell around her. The fragments were still at the mercy of the changed gravity, though, so they smacked into her from all sides.

Owen sent Veenie zooming toward her again, and this time, Veenie started to wake up. “Sir, what is happening?” he cried.

Sirabetta leapt out of the way again, but Veenie's shoe smacked her shoulder painfully as he zipped past. Sirabetta screamed in pain and grabbed Veenie's body, using it as a shield.

“Sir, what are you do—” was all Veenie had time to whine before a chunk of shattered tree thudded on his head. Once again, he was knocked out.

Sirabetta struggled to hold Mermon up, using his body to block incoming projectiles. With him shielding her, she had time to search her arms and legs for the tattoo she wanted.

Owen tried to send Veenie, with Sirabetta holding on tightly, flying toward one of the nearby trees. Nothing happened. A second later, Owen winced and sagged forward; he'd used his formula too much. He had no velocity control left.

Simon tried to increase the gravity pull toward Sirabetta so everything would fall toward her faster and hit her harder. He felt a pop inside his head and gasped. The tree fragments, stones, branches, and leaves clinging to Sirabetta fell to her feet. Sirabetta, realizing what happened, dropped Mermon to the dirt, too. Various bits of forest, now obeying normal gravity, dropped onto his unconscious body.

Simon tried gravity again, but nothing happened. He had overused it.

Sirabetta was winded from having to hold Veenie's body up for so long. Between heavy breaths, she shouted across the distance between them. “What's the matter, children? Pushed yourselves too hard?” She smiled cruelly as her pain-reliever tattoo flooded her with comfort. “So much for your heroic last stand. Ready to lie down yet?”

Simon, Owen, and Alysha looked at one another. “How bad?” Simon asked.

Owen shook his head. “I'm out.”

Alysha cracked her knuckles. “Little bit left.”

“Any thoughts?” Simon asked with a sigh.

Owen gritted his teeth. “No way do we let her win this.”

Alysha nodded. “No way some blonde in a wet suit pushes us around.”

Simon took a deep breath. “Here's the
real
last stand, then.”

Alysha threw the last of her metal—two pennies—filled with her remaining electrical charge. They hit the ground in front of Sirabetta and the prone Veenie, exploding and kicking up a cloud of dirt that temporarily blinded Sirabetta.

Simon pointed to Alysha's and Owen's feet as a signal and poured all his concentration into one last use of friction. The three friends streaked forward, their feet gliding smoothly over the trail, and got ready to strike with the only weapons they had left. Owen gripped the two branch halves he'd used to clobber Veenie, Simon cocked his backpack (with a few textbooks and the Book inside), and Alysha balled up her fists. They came from three sides in the hope that one would get in a lucky shot.

Sirabetta coughed and waved at the dust around her enough to see the kids sliding toward her. She read her air pressure formula; the tattoo glowed bright blue as the air exploded, tossing her attackers away like they were toys.

Owen got hit hardest. He was flung up into the air and landed with an audible
thud
in the crater behind Sirabetta.

Alysha, moving in from the right, was thrown straight back into the woods. She tore through several bushes before crashing into a tree trunk. She collapsed to the ground and lay on the forest floor, unmoving.

Simon, coming in from the left side, was flung up into the trees. He plowed through several small branches and grabbed hold of a thick tree limb before he could fall back down.

“And then there was one.” Sirabetta exhaled. “That was good. A noble effort.” She grimaced and looked up at Simon. “What next? Do I have to torture you? You've hurt me, you've blocked some of my tattoos, but I have plenty left. More than enough to keep you in agony for hours. But you know it hurts me every time. And I don't
want
to do any of this. Be reasonable, Simon. Let's take the easy road.”

Simon didn't answer; it took all his fading strength to cling to that tree limb.

Sirabetta looked at her right shoulder, reading the yellow formula for deforestation. The tree limb withered and finally disintegrated. Simon fell eight feet to the dirt floor and cried out as he landed badly on his left arm.

Simon lay moaning while Sirabetta approached. She looked down at him and smirked. “And this is my prize.” She reached for Simon's backpack.

A loud burst of birdsong filled the air. Sirabetta whirled around as a flock of sparrows zipped through the trees and surged toward her. “Oh, what now?” she snarled.

One bird's chirp, louder than the others', sounded mysteriously like “Charge!” The birds dive-bombed Sirabetta, wildly pecking, clawing, and flapping at her. (Had Owen been able to see, he would have been satisfied to know it very much resembled Alfred Hitchcock's
The Birds
.) Sirabetta was driven back from Simon, shrieking in pain every time a claw or beak hit.

After several moments of uselessly smacking at her avian assailants, Sirabetta ducked down and covered her head. Her muffled words were barely audible, but the result was clear. A beach-ball-size sphere of multicolored light sprang into existence above her and tossed brilliantly hued rays in every direction.

The birds twittered in confusion, blinded by the raging rainbow. Most of them collided with one another, the trees, or the ground. Sirabetta repeated her air pressure formula, and the explosion threw the remaining sparrows in every direction.

One last bird dropped to the dirt, blurred, and transformed into Flangelo. He moaned in pain and then was silent.

Sirabetta shrieked with fury and pain as she examined the damage. Her rubber wet suit was torn in many places, and several more tattoos had been pecked beyond recognition. One of them was her painkiller tattoo. She staggered over to Simon. Her voice was ragged and hoarse. “For this pain, boy, you should suffer. But first…” Once more, she bent over to his backpack.

“Ahhh!” she suddenly squealed.

Simon wasn't ready to give up; though it hurt to even move, he had lurched forward and clamped his teeth onto her ankle.

Sirabetta stamped at Simon, kicking him with her other bare foot until he let go and lay stunned. “Don't you know it's over? Don't you know you've lost?” She looked along her arms, choosing from the remaining tattoos. “Then let me make it clear.” She read a tattoo on her left wrist, and it glowed a sickly bright green.

Simon curled into a ball, holding his stomach with his one good arm. His belly quivered as if he'd eaten five chili dogs with onions and ridden the fastest looping roller coaster in the world. Twice. His internal heaving increased, and a vile taste rose up his throat. He squirmed as a nauseated feeling tore him from the inside out, leaving him paralyzed with that about-to-throw-up sensation.

“That's another from Biology,” Sirabetta said. “Utter nausea. You can't concentrate enough to use a formula if you're trying not to vomit.” She grimaced, fighting her own pain; the strain from her tattoos and injuries was clearly wearing her down.

For a moment, the woods were quiet but for the sound of Simon gagging. Sirabetta gritted her teeth. “I can handle this. I can finish what I started.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, then exhaled. “I have earned this.”

She pulled the
Teacher's Edition
out from Simon's backpack. “Hello, gorgeous. Meet your new master.”

The Book shuddered in her grasp, as if trying to break free. “Fight it all you want, you rebellious tome,” Sirabetta said. “You can't resist me.” She revealed a multicolored spiral tattooed into her other palm. “
This
says you can't.”

(I gasped—that was the mark of the Board of Administration! How could she have gotten a tattoo from them?)

Sirabetta nodded to Simon. “Don't worry, boy, this tattoo works independently from the others; it won't interrupt your anguish.”

Sirabetta turned away from Simon and took a few steps as she touched her tattooed palm to the
Teacher's Edition'
s clasp. The metal sprang open the instant her palm made contact, and the Book stopped struggling.

Sirabetta held it over her head. “It worked. They said it would, and it did. At the risk of sounding cliché”—she laughed with delirious glee—“at last! At last it is mine!”

Several feet from Sirabetta, Simon stopped trying to fight the nausea. Using his good arm, he stuck a finger down his throat and made himself throw up. He gasped for air and, for just a few seconds, was free from the formula.

Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of. He didn't know what would happen, but it was his last chance, and he took it. He spoke the words of his third formula—space-time—and aimed it at Sirabetta.

Sirabetta felt the effect at once. “What…what are you doing to me?” She screamed but was unable to move. She stood frozen, still holding the
Teacher's Edition
above her head. Her entire body began to ripple, as if made of water. “What is this? WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

As she screamed, her voice rose higher and higher and her body shuddered. There was a burst of bright white light and the air was filled with the dusty smell of space-time bending. There was no sound, though. Whatever was happening didn't involve any air ripping.

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