Текст книги "NERDS: National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society"

Автор книги: Michael Buckley

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Brand smiled. “It’s a spy thing.”

“Oh,” Jackson said, climbing to his feet. “That’s what you are—a spy?”

“Special Agent Alexander Brand,” the man said, reaching out his hand. Jackson eyed him suspiciously and refused to take it. “I’m the director of NERDS.”

“The director of what?”

Brand sighed. “The National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society. NERDS. It’s an unfortunate acronym.” He reached into his pocket and removed a small blue orb much like the two Jackson had seen at the Playground. The spy pushed a button on its side, and familiar blue particles swirled out of it. “I’m kind of new to the organization, so I thought I’d bring an expert. Say hello, Benjamin.”

“Hello, Agent Brand,” said the now familiar voice. “Your requested data is ready. Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Brand said.

“Very well. Welcome to an introduction to the National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society, also known as NERDS. Allow me to introduce myself.”

Suddenly, the blue particles merged and a chubby old man in leggings and tiny spectacles appeared. He was balding, but wore his hair long in the back. Jackson recognized him at once. “You’re Benjamin Franklin.”

“Actually, Jackson, I’m the holographic representation of the teams’ supercomputer technology. I have a level-four artificial intelligence and upon request can appear as America’s great elder statesman, but the true Mr. Franklin has been dead for many years. However, you can call me Benjamin.”

Jackson reached out to shake the figure’s hand, but this only caused the image to ripple and smear.

Benjamin smiled. “Perhaps we should get started.”

Suddenly, Jackson’s room disappeared into a three-dimensional desert landscape so real he started to sweat. A beautiful pyramid rose up right before him, as well as thousands of dark-skinned men and women in tunics. They were gathered about listening to a single figure dressed in robes and a crown. Jackson guessed he was a king. He raised his hands to the sun above.

“Many people consider the real Benjamin Franklin to be America’s first spy, but I am in no way the world’s first. No, the secret agent has been around since the earliest days of recorded history. Akhenaten, the controversial Pharaoh of Egypt, enlisted his own son, Tutankhamun, to keep a careful eye on his enemies.”

The hologram revealed a small boy wearing a crown and beautiful robes. He was huddling behind a column, listening to the conversation of two men who lurked in the shadows.

“Since then, spies have been used by countless leaders,” Benjamin continued as the Egyptian setting vanished only to be replaced with three-dimensional portraits of various historical figures: Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Napoleon Bonaparte, Attila the Hun, Richard the Lionheart, Queen Elizabeth, Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Fidel Castro. Suddenly, the images faded, leaving Benjamin alone.

“But secret agent work was dangerous. Spies were often killed in the line of duty. Then in the nineteen thirties and forties, everything changed. The first American computers became operational.”

Benjamin disappeared, only to be replaced by the image of a massive computer that more than filled Jackson’s room.

“It’s as big as a house,” Jackson said.

“The Mark 1, which became operational in 1944, was for the most part just a gigantic calculator, but it ushered in the age of technology, especially in the world of espionage. Soon agents could send information around the world in seconds. They could monitor targets from satellites, and they had hightech gadgets at their disposal. But there were problems.”

The Mark 1 disappeared, and in its place was a spy driving a sharp sports car along the Pacific Coast Highway. He wiped some sweat from his brow and eyed a panel of red buttons on his dash, with labels like “rocket launcher” and “turbo boost.” The spy searched the buttons until he found one labeled “air conditioner.” But when he tried to push it, he accidentally punched one that read “ejector seat” instead, and a moment later he was flying out of the top of the car and into the ocean.

“Most of the agents were not good with technology,” Benjamin explained.

The road vanished and now Jackson saw a man in a tuxedo, surrounded by ninjas. He pushed a button on his watch and a thin red laser fired, cutting the villains to ribbons. Proud of himself, the spy straightened his tie but forgot to turn off his watch, cutting off his own arm. His image was replaced by that of an agent removing a stick of gum from a package labeled “exploding gum.” She popped it into her mouth and started to chew. Just watching her face, Jackson could tell the woman had accidentally swallowed the gum. A moment later her face vanished from view, but the explosion was deafening. Benjamin returned.

“It became clear that computers, technology, and science did not always mix with agents used to the field, and it was decided that a team of techno-savvy spies was needed, to take advantage of America’s growing computer capabilities. A team of people perfectly comfortable with machines and gadgets.”

The scene changed and Jackson found himself standing in the middle of an empty lot. Construction was underway on a seemingly normal building, but the lot was swarming with military police and the work was being done at night.

“There was only one group of people in the country with no fear of technology: children. The government quickly realized the advantages of recruiting children to do clandestine work. They are small, and adults often ignore them and underestimate their abilities and intelligence. In other words, children make great spies. So, in 1977, the government formed the National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society.”

Jackson watched as the construction crew went into fast forward. Before his eyes, the empty lot became his school, Nathan Hale Elementary.

“Membership in the organization follows strict rules. Only a child can be an agent. Each agent is retired from active duty at the age of eighteen. No one can know of the NERDS’ existence. Their work is done in secret.”

The picture changed and Jackson saw the nerd herd, only each of them was doing amazing things.

“The current team consists of Duncan Dewey, code name Gluestick, a boy who can walk on walls and create powerful polymers by enhancing the glue he loves to eat.”

Jackson watched Duncan’s chubby little body leaping from wall to wall on the holographic projection. Duncan ran along one wall, then hung upside down from the ceiling. There was also video of him wiping his sticky skin on walls to seal cracks and bind doors. It was amazing, yet no sooner had he appeared than he was replaced by an image of Matilda.

“Matilda Choi, code name Wheezer, has always suffered from bronchial asthma, keeping her from athletic achievement and, occasionally, from walking around the block. But with the help of nano-powered inhalers, she can not only breathe freely, but fly as well. Her inhalers double as blowtorches to burn through steel doors, and as concussion blasts to knock down enemies.”

Matilda soared into the air. The next image showed her using the inhalers to burn a hole in the hull of a ship, and then to blast the crew as they ran to challenge her. She vanished and was replaced with Heathcliff.

“Heathcliff Hodges, code name Choppers, has an unfortunate set of buckteeth, but after a special nano-designed hallucinogenic whitening treatment, Hodges can use them to control the minds of people and many animals.”

Heathcliff was shown hypnotizing a pack of wild dogs to chase down a villain. Then there was an image of him being backed into a corner by sword-wielding ninjas. He smiled and the ninjas dropped their swords and raised their hands in surrender. Heathcliff’s face quickly morphed into Julio Escala’s. Julio’s tiny, shaky frame was quickly overlaid with the harness Jackson had seen him wearing.

“An important addition to the team is Julio Escala, code name Flinch. Flinch is intensely hyperactive, but now his busy body’s nervous energy has been channeled into a special suit that converts it into superhuman strength and speed.”

Jackson watched as Julio lifted a car off the ground like it was a newspaper, then saw him racing down a freeway, outrunning a BMW.

Running Julio became Ruby Peet, who scratched at her skin like an old dog with a bad case of the mange. A moment later, her body was swelling like a balloon.

“Ruby Peet, code name Pufferfish, has the most severe case of allergies in documented history. She has extraordinary reactions to everything from peanuts to pizza, even swelling up when exposed to emotions like fear, anger, and love. What could be seen as a weakness has now been enhanced into an incredible ability. Her allergies warn her of danger and dishonesty in others. She is the team’s current leader.”

Benjamin continued. “Like their predecessors, the newest members of NERDS operate in shadows, using their weaknesses as strengths, monitoring the globe for possible conflicts, and fighting for the security of the world. Together, they are the world’s last, best hope. When the best of the best can’t get it done, NERDS can. Ta-ta for now.”

The blue particles vanished, and Benjamin with them. Jackson found his bedroom returned to normal once more.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Jackson said as he turned to Mr. Brand.

“Because I want you to join the team,” the spy replied.

“Why me?”

Brand smiled. “I’ve just taken over as director, but I can already see the team has become too set in their ways, too isolated. A new perspective is just the thing they need to shake them up. You’re a gifted athlete.”

“True.”

“And you’re a born leader.”

“It’s like you know me.”

“Plus, I’ve been watching you for some time, Jackson. You are a snoop. You spy on your friends and teachers and you’re good at it. You managed to find your way into the Playground.”

“So I’m very clever. That doesn’t make me a spy,” Jackson said.

“No, what makes you a spy is that tingling feeling you get when you are about to uncover a secret.”

Jackson was stunned. How could Brand know about the tingling?

“I’ve been doing this work for a long time,” Agent Brand continued. “I know when someone has what it takes. Plus, you have the incredible upgrade that Benjamin gave you.”

“I can’t be a spy,” Jackson said. “Spies have to fly all over the world. What would I tell my dad?”

“Most of our missions take place during school hours. At other times, you can rely on this,” the spy said as he reached down and picked up his black case. He opened the lid.

“A clarinet?”

“Tell your family you want to learn to play an instrument so you can join the marching band. Musical education takes a lot of time, especially after school. Your father will think you’re just busy. He will never guess you are saving the world. And if he does, well, we always have Heathcliff’s teeth. He can wipe his memory.”

“What about school? He’ll notice if my grades drop, and they are already dragging the ground.”

“Jackson, we can’t do your homework and take tests for you, but you’ll have access to some of the finest minds in the world. You saw those scientists in the Playground. They’ll tutor you.”

Jackson was dumbfounded. He tried to imagine himself as a spy, but his mind was blank. “Can I think about it?” he said. “This is a big decision and I’m very much in demand these days. I really need to weigh my options.”

Agent Brand nodded. “Of course. Think about it carefully, Jackson. We would pretty much own you until you’re eighteen years old, but you would help keep millions, maybe even billions of people safe.”

The spy reached into his pocket, pulled out a sealed envelope, and placed it in Jackson’s hand. “When you’re ready to serve your country, read this and follow the instructions.”

Jackson glanced down at the envelope. “What is it?” But there was no answer. When he looked back up, the spy was gone.

In the world of professional crime there are four kinds of bosses: (1) Those who are obsessed with taking over the world in order to save it. They think they’re actually heroes, ending one kind of world so that the survivors can pick up the pieces and start anew. (2) Those who want to destroy the world because of some perceived injustices from childhood or a time when colleagues laughed at their revolutionary ideas. Scientists are always laughing at each other, and it really irks some of them. (3) Those motivated by greed. For them, taking over the world is just another opportunity to drain it of all its money and resources. (4) The clinically insane type. The crazy bosses are prone to angry outbursts, paranoia, and unprovoked killing of underlings. They pore over their plans and doomsday devices, neglecting to shave or take a shower, and are baffled that those around them can’t see the genius of their ideas.

The Hyena had begun to suspect that Dr. Felix Jigsaw was the fourth kind of boss. He rambled on and on to an imaginary colleague whom he was convinced was trying to sabotage his work. He ate nothing but bean sprouts, whole tea bags, and uncooked egg noodles, and he had a nasty habit of killing people when he didn’t get his way. If it hadn’t been for the guaranteed raise after ninety days, the Hyena would have quit.

But the killing and the unusual diet were only half of it. Every morning the Hyena and Dumb Vinci stood with the kidnapped scientists and watched Dr. Jigsaw do his daily workout routine. Jigsaw did one hundred one-armed push-ups. Fifty for his left arm and fifty for his right. When he was finished he would do one hundred lunges, one hundred shoulder presses, one hundred calf raises, and one hundred standing rows, fifty on each limb. It was a grueling workout, but what was even more painful was listening to Jigsaw’s lecture on the importance of symmetry, how essential it was to be equally strong on both sides of the body.

One morning after his workout, Dumb Vinci brought Dr. Jigsaw the tiny pencil-shaped device the Hyena had found in Dr. Lunich’s lab. Jigsaw studied it closely, turning it over and over, as if it were a beautiful flower.

“Dr. Lunich, tell me about your invention,” Jigsaw said. The Hyena was surprised by the man’s excitement. Jigsaw was nearly salivating.

Despite his kidnapping, Dr. Lunich had not lost his courage. He shook his head and turned up his nose.

“Dr. Lunich, that is bad manners. I invited you here to my lab. Don’t you want to be friends?”

“I was not invited. I was kidnapped just like all the others,” Lunich said, gesturing to the cowering men and women who stood behind him. “You should let us go before you get in more trouble.”

Dr. Jigsaw sighed and turned to the Hyena. “Mindy, dear, sometimes I wonder if I have what it takes to be a scientist. You see, I hate setbacks. I know it’s part of the job, and heaven knows I’ve had many. Some have been my fault—wrong turns I’ve made during my research, lack of imagination, exhaustion. But more often than not, my setbacks have been the result of working with lazy and small-minded people, bureaucrats, and pencil pushers. If I could only surround myself with passionate, open-minded thinkers, my plans would already have been completed. Take Iceland and Greenland—if I had the support of the scientific community, then they wouldn’t have slammed into each other so hard and perhaps—”

“You did that? You moved Greenland? People were killed!” Lunich said.

“My point exactly, and you have no one else to blame but yourself. All I’m asking for is some help with some equations and a little insight on your remarkable device. Don’t you want things to go better, Dr. Lunich?”

“You can forget it, Jigsaw!” Lunich shook his head. “I fear how you might use my invention.”

“Then let me explain,” the doctor said. “I have built a machine that can move continents from one place to the other with a blast of energy. Unfortunately, the machine is unable to move them precisely where I want them. Now, you’ve built an amazing machine, and I believe that if I can link my satellite to your tractor beam, I can literally tow everything where it’s supposed to go.”

“Supposed to go? I won’t help you. In fact, we’re all through with you.” Lunich gestured to the other scientists. “You’ll get no more help from us.”

Jigsaw stomped his feet like a child whose mother has just refused him cookies.

“You don’t have to be rude! If you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine with me!” Jigsaw shouted. He looked like he was about to storm off, but he hesitated for a moment. He stared at Lunich’s face as if he were cataloging his features.

“Doctor, has anyone ever told you that your left ear is slightly bigger than your right ear?”

Lunich scowled impatiently. “No, no one has ever told me that.”

“It’s really disconcerting. Now that I notice it, I find it difficult to see the rest of your face. It’s truly grotesque. I don’t know how you live with yourself.”

“You are clearly unwell,” Lunich said with disgust.

“I just can’t bear to look at it a second longer,” Jigsaw said, then pushed a button on his wristwatch. The floor beneath Dr. Lunich slid open and he plummeted downward. A flash of fire and a puff of smoke rose from below, along with a terrible scream.

The Hyena thought her eyes might pop out of her head.

“Well, friends,” Jigsaw said, waving the miniature tractor beam at the whimpering geniuses. “We’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. Let’s break it open and see how it works.”

Jackson walked the hallways of Nathan Hale Elementary with a sense of wonder. The boring old cookie-cutter building he had never given a second thought to now seemed to be brimming with secrets. Every door might lead to a hidden room. Every face in the hall could belong to an international spy. He wondered if any of the other kids suspected anything. What would they think if they knew the world’s very existence was owed to these hallways? Yet at the same time, Jackson had serious reservations about joining Brand’s team. For one, he was worried he’d get killed, which was something he generally tried to avoid. And two, even with their souped-up technology, there were still nerds. All five of them were wheezing, whiny misfits.

Joining the group would mean giving up on ever being popular again. Even though his former friends had shunned him, Jackson still had hopes that they would give him another chance. If he accepted Brand’s invitation, he could flush all his dreams down the toilet.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that becoming a nerd, albeit a nerd who was also a secret agent, was not for him. No, he’d keep doing what he was doing and eventually he’d find his rightful place in the spotlight again. After all, once his old friends got a look at what he could do with his superbraces, he’d be the most popular kid in school. He reached into his pocket and felt the envelope that the spy had given him and knew what had to be done. He shoved the boys’ bathroom door open and stepped inside.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said as he crunched the envelope into a ball and tossed it into the toilet bowl. He was leaning over to flush it down when he heard the bathroom door open. He turned to see who it was and saw a group of his former friends, led by Brett. They were laughing and slugging one another in the arm, a game they seemed to play all the time. Instinctively, Jackson smiled at them. After all, they had been best friends for years. But when Brett sneered at him, he knew he had made a mistake.

“Hey, Braceface,” Brett said. “How many toothbrushes do you go through in a day?”

The other boys exploded into obnoxious giggles.

Jackson felt his face flush. Before he could think, a nasty reply escaped his lips, “Hey Brett, you still using those big-boy diapers at bedtime?”

Brett’s face fell. His nightly bedwetting was a secret the two boys had shared since the second grade, when Jackson had spent the night at Brett’s house and they had gone hog-wild over pizza, candy, and root beer after root beer. Jackson had woken several times in the night to visit the bathroom. Brett had slept like a rock—a rock floating on a soggy mattress. The next morning, in front of Jackson, Brett’s mom had informed her son that from now on he would have to wear “pull-up pants,” which everyone knew was code for diapers. Horrified, Brett swore Jackson to secrecy.

Jackson felt bad about revealing the secret and began to make an earnest apology, when Brett grabbed him by the collar and forced him back inside the bathroom stall. Then, with the help of the other boys, he shoved Jackson headfirst into the toilet bowl. Someone flushed and the water swirled around Jackson’s ears. He was drowning, but there were too many hands holding him down. He kicked and punched and finally freed himself. Gagging and spitting, he managed to turn his head toward his attackers. They shrank back in terror. His braces! They had transformed into four metallic lobster claws, snapping and lunging at the bullies.

“Freak!” Brett shouted, scrambling for the bathroom door.

“No!” Jackson cried. “Wait. They’re really cool.”

His friends rushed out of the bathroom, leaving him alone on the floor. He lay there for a long time, fighting back tears. It was clear that his former life was officially over. As he got to his feet, he found a soggy wad of paper crumpled beneath him. It was the envelope. He scooped it up and opened it gingerly. Inside was a blurry handwritten note.

Go to the cafeteria. Ask the lunch lady for

the creamed corn. Welcome to the National

Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society.

Jackson reread the words over and over to make sure he understood them. What did creamed corn have to do with becoming a spy?

He hurried down the hallway, leaving soggy footprints behind him.

The fifth grade was halfway through their lunch break, so the line in the cafeteria was short. Jackson hopped onto the end and soon stepped up to the counter. There he found the lunch lady chewing on an extinguished cigar. Jackson had never noticed her husky forearms before or, for that matter, how hairy they were. He had never noticed her five o’clock shadow before, either.

“What’ll you have, kid?” the lunch lady asked in a rather deep voice.

“I was told to order the creamed corn,” Jackson said, eyeing the grayish-yellow muck boiling in a pan next to some off-color green beans.

The lunch lady cocked a bushy eyebrow. “Did you say you wanted the creamed corn?”

“Yes, the creamed corn.”

“You sure, kid? Once you have the creamed corn, there’s no going back.”

Jackson shook some toilet water out of his ear. “I’m sure.”

The lunch lady scooped out a heaping helping of the goop and plopped it onto Jackson’s tray. “Welcome to the team, kid,” she said.

Once he found a seat, Jackson took a sniff of the corn and quickly realized that ordering it had been a terrible decision. It smelled like feet and maple syrup, and jiggled on the tray as if it were alive. Summoning all his courage and tightening all his stomach muscles, Jackson plunged his spoon into the goop and shoveled some into his mouth. Just as it went in, he thought he spotted something tiny and metallic. It was too late. He had already swallowed.

Jackson could feel the metal thing at the back of his throat, but it wasn’t sinking into his stomach, it was climbing into his nasal cavity! There was an odd tickling feeling and then a sudden sharp pain that made Jackson yelp, which made every kid in the cafeteria look in his direction.

There was horrible popping sound and then Jackson’s head filled with a whining feedback. He clamped his hands on his ears and cried out in agony. He heard a kid sitting behind him diagnose him as a lunatic. He was about to reply when he heard another voice, this one soft and calming.

“Welcome, Braceface.”

“Hello?”

“Do you wish to join NERDS, Braceface? Please confirm.” Jackson nodded. “Sure … I guess. But my name is Jackson—”

“Yes or no is required, Braceface.”

“Enough with the Braceface! Yes! I want to join,” he shouted, collecting more bug-eyed gazes.

“Confirmed. You have received a TL-46A Tracking, Calling, and Communication Implant. It has three functions. The first emits a unique radio frequency allowing agents to track your whereabouts. I will test this function.”

An incredible squeal blasted in Jackson’s brain. The pain was similar to that of eating an ice cream cone too fast except, in this case, it was like eating forty pounds of ice cream too fast. Jackson’s head was filled with a teeth-rattling screech and he fell over onto the floor. The kids who were sitting nearby picked up their trays and moved to other seats.

“Adjusting volume,” the voice said as the noise faded. “The TL-46A’s secondary function is as a pager system to alert agents of a crisis. I will test this function.”

Just then, Jackson felt an incredible itch in his nose and he let out a massive sneeze. His nose was running like a river, and he wiped it on his sleeve. He had seen the same thing happen to the nerd herd.

“Secondary function working within parameters,” the computer said. “OK, Braceface—”

“All right, pal, you call me Braceface one more time and I’m going to—”

“Testing.”

Suddenly, Jackson’s nose started to tickle and he sneezed. Then he sneezed again, and again, and again.

“Lastly, the implant allows communication between agents. Testing.”

There was a horrible whine of feedback in his head that caused Jackson to slam his head on his table and hold his hands over his ears.

“Prepare to be delivered,” Benjamin’s voice continued.

“Delivered?”

Just then, the fire alarm rang and the sprinkler system came to life. Cold water poured down, causing panicked kids and staff to rush for the exits. In the chaos, Jackson felt the floor below him disappear, and he plummeted into darkness, landing in an overstuffed chair next to the computer desk in the center of the Playground. Agent Brand was waiting for him.

“Welcome to the team,” Brand said, helping the boy to his feet. Jackson brushed himself off and scanned his surroundings. The scientists he had seen before were busy working on their various experiments.

“Well, I suppose we should get right to it,” Brand continued as he escorted Jackson around the massive room. “You’ve seen the Playground before. It’s our mission room, as well as a multifunction lab, information collection center, and training facility. You’ve met a few of our scientists. There are nearly fifty on staff, and they make up the finest minds in chemistry, engineering, and astrophysics—all working on the latest technologies to help your missions succeed.”

Somewhere, something exploded.

Brand continued the tour, showing Jackson a bank of desks manned by men and women watching video monitors. “We also have a full team of experts who search the globe for trouble. Our eyes are everywhere, so that we can stop a problem before it starts. This is where missions start and end, Jackson.”

The spy led him to a wall with a big red button on it. He instructed Jackson to press his back against the wall, and then Brand pushed the button. The wall spun around, and they found themselves in a tight, confined space that smelled of body odor. The spy opened a door and the two stepped out into one of the school hallways. Jackson realized they had come back through another set of lockers—just as he had entered the Playground on the first day of his screwy new life.

They walked down the hallway to the library.

“I want you to meet our information specialist, Ms. Holiday.”

“Ms. Holiday—you mean the librarian? She’s a spy?” Jackson cried.

Agent Brand nodded. “She assists with mission intelligence, cover stories, clothing and weapons, and mission preparation. At the moment she’s relaying the latest intelligence on an ongoing investigation to the team. Why don’t we go in and say hello? I’m sure they will be thrilled to hear you’ve agreed to join them.”

They stepped through the doorway and found Heathcliff, Ruby, Matilda, Duncan, and Flinch sitting at a round table. They looked angry.

Jackson was puzzled. Maybe they were angry about their mission, because surely, deep down, nerds would be honored to hang out with a kid like him. He turned to the nerds and smiled his best popular-kid smile. “Listen up, folks. I’m thrilled to be joining the team. Clearly, you needed someone with a little athletic ability, and it doesn’t hurt that I’m cute and brimming with charm. I mean, you’ve seen those James Bond movies. He looks a lot more like me than he does the rest of you. So, I guess I’ll be the face of the team and you guys can do whatever it is you do behind the scenes. Good? Good. Glad to be here.”

Ms. Holiday rushed to Brand’s side. She looked worried.

“Agent Brand, the team has something to say,” she said.

Brand cocked an eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“We’ve taken a vote,” Ruby said, and she jumped to her feet.

“A vote?” the spy asked.

“Yes. We have decided that this punk is not right for our team. He has no training. He is a show-off and I doubt he’ll take orders. We have decided to pass.”

Agent Brand’s face tightened like he had just bitten into a very sour pickle.

“Pufferfish,” the spy said. “I’m sure that once the six of you get to know one another—”

“We know everything we need to know about him,” Heathcliff said.

“Hggggaalfhal amldyad aaaal,” Flinch sputtered.

“What did he say?” the spy asked.

The hyper boy turned the knob on this harness and spoke again. “He’s a jerk.”

Suddenly, all the children were shouting angry words at Brand.

“Children!” Ms. Holiday cried over the chaos. “Let’s be professional. Jackson has a lot to offer the team.”

Matilda laughed. “He’ll draw attention to himself and us. He can’t help it. All he cares about is being popular.”

Brand’s face was hot and red. He looked as if he had a million things to say, but he gritted his teeth and said, “Train him.” Then he turned and walked out of the room.

The team was quiet for a moment. It was clear to Jackson they were unused to hearing someone tell them what to do. It was also clear they were very accustomed to getting their way.

Ms. Holiday forced a smile onto her face. “Welcome to the team, Braceface.”