The Great Powers Outage (16 page)

“Well, clearly you didn't notice”—I spoke again, this time in my deepest possible voice—“the whiskers on my face.”

She stared at me blankly, absorbing what I had said.

“Oh!” She brightened up and blinked her eyes. “Of course you can go in, sir. Room one sixty-five. It's just down that hall.”

“Wait here, guys,” I said with a big grin. “I'll be back as quickly as I can.”

LI'L HERO'S HANDBOOK

PLACES

CRANIA-SUPERIORE HOSPITAL

Located on Hoity-Toity Row on the northern edge of Lava Park, Crania
Superiore has become the city's most financially successful hospital
thanks to its exclusive focus on diseases of the rich. The hospital is
named in honor of an unknown benefactor who has contributed enormous
sums expressly for the study of the brain and its functions.

I could tell my friends were annoyed as I left them behind in the lobby, but it would probably be in our best interest for me to do this on my own. Unfortunately, as I stepped into room 165, I saw that I had company anyway.

“Great hoppin' horny toads!” exclaimed Whistlin' Dixie. “Why sure'n if it ain't Ordinary Boy.”

“Who let you in?” demanded the Tycoon, AI's business partner.

As unpleasant as it was to see him, it was the other person in the room that made my blood run cold—the Red Menace.

“This midget looks familiar,” he said, his sinister eyes boring right through me.

“That's not a midget,” said the Tycoon. “It's just a very annoying kid who always seems to know everything except what's good for him.”

“Ah, yes, it does appear to be the young boy who I chatted with on Wednesday,” observed the Red Menace. “But now he's got a beard. Fifty years ago, before I went to prison, children tended to be clean shaven. Have things changed?”

“That ain't no beard.” Dixie laughed as she dropped to one knee to wipe my chin with her hanky. She jerked back in surprise when she found the hairs were real. “Sure'n if he hasn't grown his self a set o whiskers!”

“They'll go away in about an hour,” I said to everyone, “just like your powers if you don't take steps now to prevent it.”

“What did he say about powers?” I heard a creaky voice from across the room. That was when I noticed the patient in the hospital bed. It was hard to recognize him beneath all the casts and bandages, but even in a weakened state I knew the voice of the Amazing Indestructo.

“It's true,” I said speaking directly to AI. “I think the Red Menace is using your Pseudo-Chips to drain everybody's powers—including your own.”

“Not my chips!” AI responded plaintively.

“I notice you said you
think
that Pseudo-Chips might be causing this,” the Tycoon pointed out. “So the reality is that you don't
know
it for a fact.”

“Well, no,” I admitted, “but the link looks pretty strong.”

“This here li'l buckaroo may jes' be on to some-thin',” said Dixie with concern. “Ah even hit ma self a wrong note this mornin'—in the show'r, no less!”

“Mays, mights, possiblies,” the Tycoon said with a snort. “Until you have hard facts, we're certainly not going to pull an item that's bringing in more income for Indestructo Industries than all our past products combined.”

“But what good is anything if you have to change your entire way of life to keep using it?” I asked. “Besides, there's only one reason that people are eating these chips.”

The Red Menace gave an evil leer as I turned to face him.

“You're right,” he agreed. “People buy them because they're delicious. Don't you agree?”

I could tell that he was using his power on me, and somewhere in my subconscious I felt myself craving a canister of Amazing Indestructo Pseudo-Chips. But I knew the feeling was phony and shook myself free of it.

“No I don't,” I snapped back. “They're tasteless and bland, and anyone who can think for themselves knows it.”

The Red Menace's face turned as red as his costume, but before he could say anything, a loud sobbing noise drifted through the room. We all turned to the Amazing Indestructo, who was blubbering like a baby.

“H-h-he's right!” he wailed uncontrollably. “Even I think they taste lousy.”

“So take them off the market,” I appealed directly to him. “For once do something for the right reason—even if it costs you some money.”

“Money?” he said, his tears ceasing.

The Tycoon saw his opening and went for it.

“That's right,” he said in the oiliest way possible. “If you take these chips off the market you'll be sacrificing uncountable millions in profit. You don't want to do that, do you?”

“No.” AI shook his head vacantly. “I like money.”

I couldn't believe it. The Amazing Indestructo and the Tycoon weren't even under the Red Menace's control. It was their own greed that was driving their actions.

“Is money so important to you that you'd give up the one thing that makes you unique among everyone else in Superopolis?” I asked AI in disbelief.

“You mean my profile?” he said as he turned to show it to me. The huge welt on his nose had done nothing to improve it.

“No!” I practically exploded. “Your power! Your indestructibility! What good is your money if you don't have that?!”

The Amazing Indestructo immediately began blubbering again.

“It's true. My power is the only thing that makes me special. Without it people will see that I'm just a two-bit phony.”

“A
rich
two-bit phony,” the Tycoon corrected as he walked over to the hospital room's door. “Nurse Slaphappy, we need your assistance for a moment.”

AI continued to sob as Nurse Slaphappy came into the room. Just as I was wondering what her power might be, the nurse came to the side of the hospital bed and gave the sobbing Amazing Indestructo a solid whack across the face with her hand.

Instead of reacting as most people would when getting slapped, AI began to grin and laugh. Nurse Slaphappy was well named.

With his mood completely lifted, the Amazing Indestructo came up with a solution to this problem that only he could have concocted.

“Wait a minute!” he lit up. “If I were to sell the kid the business, I can have my money and he can do what he wants with the chips. Everyone would win!”

My mouth dropped open at the spinelessness of this hero who only a month ago I had idolized. A similar expression of outrage flashed across the Red Menace's face as well, but I think for another reason—the thought that AI might actually sell the business to me. He shouldn't have worried.

“That's it!” The Amazing Indestructo grinned as Nurse Slaphappy gave him another smack across the face. “The business is yours kid . . . and all for the bargain price of just one billion dollars.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Riches from the Sky

“What do you mean he refused to stop selling them?” Plasma Girl asked with concern while she and my other teammates scrambled to keep up with me as I stormed out of the hospital.

“He did offer to sell me the business, though—for one billion dollars.”

“A billion dollars!!” they all said in astonishment.

“We can't even compete with Transparent Girl's twenty-three-cent fish fund,” Tadpole said with annoyance.

“I have a hundred and twenty dollars in my college fund,” Hal offered. “Is that close?”

“Not really,” I said. “But thanks anyway, Hal.”

“Why doesn't he just stop selling the chips because it's the right thing to do?” Stench asked in disgust.

“Because he's selfish and greedy,” I said by way of explanation.

“How could anyone sacrifice his own power for profits?” Stench shook his head in amazement.

“Because I didn't have absolute proof that the chips are at fault, the Tycoon convinced him to do nothing.”

“That's stupid,” said Hal. “He could at least stop until we knew for sure.”

“What really upsets me,” I admitted, “is that I
don't
know for sure. It's only a guess at the moment.”

“People start eating the chips. Their powers go away. What more proof do you want?” snorted Tadpole.

“On the surface, it sounds convincing,” I agreed, “but there's no solid evidence. We still don't know what
causes
people's power in the first place, and without knowing that, it's incredibly tricky to figure out what would prevent someone's power from working.”

“Maybe there's something in the Pseudo-Chips that blocks people's power,” Plasma Girl proposed.

“There could be.” I shrugged. “But I've looked over the ingredients label. In spite of a dozen or so unpronounceable additives, the chips don't contain anything that hasn't been used in tons of other products.”

“Speaking of food loaded with chemicals, I'm starving,” Stench announced. “Let's head someplace where we can get something to eat.”

“Should we go to Dinky Dogs?” Halogen Boy proposed.

“No. I heard they were overrun by armadillos,” Tadpole said. “Let's hit the Cavalcade of Candy, instead.”

“Candy for lunch?!” Plasma Girl snapped, clearly appalled. “That's disgusting!”

We all stared at her blankly. Candy for lunch made perfect sense to the rest of us.

“Oh fine.” She gave in as we turned and headed for a building shaped like a giant dollop of whipped cream. Kids of all ages were coming and going as we passed through the main entrance of the Cavalcade of Candy. We took a sharp right and made our way up the spiral pathway that ringed the interior of the hollow structure.

We stopped for a moment to watch the Sugar Rush roller coaster whip by. It's just one of the cool attractions inside the Cavalcade of Candy. Another was the complete model of Superopolis built entirely of candy. It's spread out across the whole bottom floor of the place. After the coaster passed, I looked down at the three-dimensional map of the city just as a worker was adding a new detail. It was a model of the S.S.
Befuddlement
made entirely of Popsicle sticks. The worker, an old man with a neatly trimmed beard was carefully placing the ancient wrecked ship on the rock candy shore of MegaManly Beach. While I marveled at how accurate it was, my friends debated their lunch options.