Tessa sat up and rubbed her swollen eyes. “Yes.”
Miss Information smiled beneath her mask. “So you’ve gotten meaner and meaner to your classmates and teachers but it hasn’t worked. I can help you get the attention you want.”
“How?”
“Oh, I know a lot about getting attention,” Miss Information bragged. “We can make your father regret his choices, and turn him into the daddy you’ve always wanted. In exchange, you can help me with some of my plans.”
“How can I help you?”
“Tessa, being a bully is a skill that requires years of practice to develop. Few bullies ever get past pushing kids on the playground. But you … you’ve taken it to a whole new level. Not only are you mean and nasty but you’ve also found ways to terrorize everyone you’ve ever met. That, my friend, is a talent I can use.”
“What do I have to do?”
Miss Information felt like a fisherman reeling in a trout. All she had to do now was get her catch into the boat.
“You and I will cause a little trouble that will, in turn, cause a little trouble for your dad. Why, it might even cause him to lose the election.”
“Lose the election? I can’t do that!”
“But, honey, if he loses the election, he’ll be out of politics. You’ll have him all to yourself.”
Tessa sat thinking for a long time.
Miss Information wasn’t sure her little fish was still on the line. “I have a team of kids who, like you, need a little attention. All they need is a leader. Someone to boss them around.”
A smile crept across Tessa’s face.
Miss Information knew she had her now. “And you’ll get superpowers.”
Tessa frowned. Her eyes went back to looking at the exit.
“Did the Secretary of the Interior put you up to this? He’s still angry about the time I called him a tree-hugging hippie.”
“You think this is a prank?” Miss Information asked.
Tessa sneered. “I was kidnapped by a lady who wears a skull mask. She wants me to lead a team of kids for her and says she can give me superpowers. You can see why I might think you’re crazy.”
“I AM NOT CRAZY,” Miss Information bellowed. She did not like that word. She was perfectly sane. Tessa had better watch her words. There was always the tiger cage! But then she saw the fear in the girl’s eyes, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m very sorry. Listen, if you want proof that what I’m saying is true, then I’m happy to show you.”
She clapped her hands, and a small round hole opened in the wall. Benjy zipped through it and into the room.
“Benjy, I would like Ms. Lipton to meet our team,” Miss Information said. “Are they ready?”
“Yes. The upgrade chair you designed this morning has been constructed and is operational. The four operatives you chose have all been through the process successfully.”
Miss Information clapped like a happy child. “Have the fire alarm sounded in the school above us. I need their gymnasium.”
Benjy chirped and spun. “The alarm has been triggered.”
Miss Information pushed a button and the ceiling slid open to reveal a long dark tunnel. With a loud rumbling noise, the floor beneath them rose like a massive elevator. It went higher and higher, until the room came to an abrupt stop. The four walls fell over as if they were the walls on a house of cards. They had arrived in the middle of an empty basketball court. A basketball rolled across the floor.
“Bring them out, sweetie,” Miss Information said to the floating orb.
It spun around and clicked. A door on the far side of the gym opened, and a boy with toadlike features and limp, greasy, shoulder-length hair walked into the gym. His face, clothes, fingernails, and neck were filthy, and he smelled like mildewed towels.
“This is Rash Maver,” the orb said. “While some people are wanted criminals, Rash is ‘unwanted’ in nearly fourteen states due to his lazy approach to personal hygiene. He’s been banned in nearly fifty middle schools and more than a few petting zoos. His upgrade allows him to direct a cloud of his own stink to do his bidding. We call him Funk.”
“‘Upgrade’?” Tessa asked Miss Information.
“It’s what gives him his powers—tiny robots, darling.” Miss Information pushed a button on the console and leaned into the microphone. “Mr. Maver, can you demonstrate your abilities?”
A rancid green cloud seeped out of the boy’s clothes. It swirled around like a poltergeist, giving off a pungent odor like the smell of rotten eggs slipped into crusty gym socks soaked in spoiled mayonnaise and brown sugar. Funk gestured with his hands and the gas formed different shapes: a cannon firing at a nearby wall, a snarling dog, and an enormous fist. With a flick of his wrist, the mist lifted Funk off the ground and flew him around the gym’s rafters.
“That’s totally disgusting,” Tessa said, gagging.
“Isn’t he fun? Wait until you meet the next one,” Miss Information said.
Another door swung open and a second boy stepped through. This one had a head of bright white hair and was as skinny as a cornstalk. His finger was buried up his nostril all the way to the knuckle.
“This is Manson Cane,” the orb said. “As you can see, he’s fond of a peculiar pastime. There are no known photographs of him without his finger in his nose.”
Benjy beamed a holographic image in front of them. It was a photo of Manson as a baby. His tiny newborn finger was stuffed in his little baby nose.
“Charming,” Tessa grumbled.
“We call him Snot Rocket,” Miss Information.
Snot Rocket leaped into action, pressing one finger against his left nostril and blasting enormous globs of mucus out the other. The repulsive rockets crashed into a wall and exploded on contact, demolishing the wall. Mucus missiles from the other nostril allowed him to create elaborate structures made of snot. With a couple of blasts, he created a flight of stairs to race up. A third honk shot a phlegmy tendril across the room, where it stuck like glue. He slid down the booger rope like it was a zip line.
“I’m going to barf!” Tessa cried.
“Clench that belly tight, Ms. Lipton. The next two members are just as obnoxious but not nearly as gross.”
A third door opened and a large girl wearing a princess dress and a sparkly tiara appeared. Her pie-shaped face had a sour expression and was bright red.
“This young lady is Tammy Tots. She has a bad reputation and an even louder voice. She’s been tossed out of every library and movie theater on the East Coast. I like to call her Loudmouth,” Miss Information said as she handed Tessa a pair of earplugs. “You’ll need these.”
When Tessa’s ears were protected, Miss Information pressed the button on her microphone.
“All right, Tammy. You’re up.”
Loudmouth opened her jaws as wide as possible, and screamed. What she was saying was incoherent but rageful—something about wanting a kitten for Christmas and about a boy named Larry who laughed at her hands. A fierce wind poured from her mouth, ripping up the hardwood floor, tearing down the backboard, and collapsing the bleachers. Miss Information couldn’t have been more proud.
“And finally, I present the muscle of our group—Thor Hardwick.”
The fourth door in the arena didn’t get a chance to open. It was blown apart. As the shattered pieces flew in every direction, a boy as big as a professional wrestler—over six feet tall with a neck like a tree trunk—emerged. His arms and feet were three times the size of a normal person’s and twice as long. His knuckles dragged on the floor and sent up a shower of sparks as he walked. He had what looked like a flattop haircut until Tessa realized the top of his head was actually flat. You could land a helicopter on it.