I HATE YOU.
LET’S MOVE ON. MY NAME IS
MICHAEL BUCKLEY. I WAS ONCE
A MEMBER OF THE NATIONAL
ESPIONAGE, RESCUE, AND DEFENSE
SOCIETY. THESE DAYS I DOCUMENT
THEIR ADVENTURES AND
WEED OUT THE POSERS WHO
WANT TO JOIN THE TEAM.
(WELL, I TRY TO WEED THEM OUT.)
THE ORGANIZATION WAS FOUNDED IN
THE 1970S, LONG BEFORE YOU WERE
BORN. WHAT WERE THE ’70S LIKE?
A-W-E-S-O-M-E! EVERYBODY DRESSED
REALLY WELL AND WE ALL HAD THESE
COOL HAIRCUTS. DON’T BELIEVE ME?
ASK YOUR PARENTS TO SHOW YOU
SOME PICTURES. I’LL WAIT.
SEE, I TOLD YOU. MAN, DO I MISS
MY BUTTERFLY COLLARS. ANYWAY,
LET’S GET STARTED. WHAT YOU’RE
HOLDING IN YOUR SWEATY HANDS IS
THE LAST NERDS FILE. AND UNLIKE
THE PREVIOUS FOUR, THERE’S NO
TEST. THIS CASE FILE IS ALL ABOUT
HISTORY. YOU’RE GOING TO GET A
GLIMPSE OF THE GREATEST
AGENTS THE NERDS HAVE
EVER SEEN. SO READ THIS
CAREFULLY, AND YOU MIGHT
JUST LEARN SOMETHING
ABOUT BEING A SPY.
BUT I HAVE MY DOUBTS.
“How did I get here?” Ruby Peet grumbled to herself as she climbed onto the roof of a British express train. The air was bone-rattling cold, the train was racing at nearly 140 miles an hour, and she was sure the jostling would send her flying over the side at any moment. But, as they say, there isn’t any use in complaining when you have a job to do—and Ruby’s job was saving the world.
Most people couldn’t see past the fact that Ruby was in the sixth grade, only twelve years old, allergic to practically everything in the world, and a social misfit. But the truth was, Pufferfish, as she was known, was actually a very good secret agent.
At that moment, she was in pursuit of a scientist named Dr. Hans Julian, the world’s expert on poop. Yes, you read that correctly. Poop. Dr. Julian knew everything there was to know about dookie, kaka, turds, racing stripes, floaters, and toilet bombs. He also knew how waste could be used for fuels, building materials, and fertilizer, plus a million other very gross things. One could say that he was number one at number two. What he didn’t know was how deep the doo-doo would be when he tried to sell some of his knowledge to a very bad person.
What could a guy with a degree in dung know that would put him on the nation’s Most Wanted list? Dr. Julian had created a superlaxative that caused intensive, explosive diarrhea. One drop of that liquid in a city’s water supply and every man, woman, child, and animal would be racing to the bathroom. With everyone indisposed, any number of crimes could occur and there would be no one to stop them.
She stood, fighting the wind, and peered into the darkness. In the moonlight she spotted Dr. Julian running away from her along the top of the train. Mustering all her courage, she darted after him.
If it were up to her, she’d be calling the shots while one of her fellow agents did the legwork. Gluestick could use his sticky hands and feet to never fall off the train, Braceface could snatch the doctor in a giant fist made from his orthodontic braces, and Wheezer’s inhalers would allow her to fly alongside the train and scoop up the bad guy in her arms. Even Flinch’s sugar-fueled strength and lightning speed would easily overpower the scientist. Unfortunately, her teammates were on other missions, and Ruby was all by herself. All she had were her allergies—a collection of runny noses, swelling feet, itchy hands, rashes, hives, blisters, and weepy eyes enhanced by the latest science. Coursing through her bloodstream were millions of nanobytes, tiny robots that made her allergic reactions so sensitive she practically had psychic powers. A puffy eye alerted her to explosives. A sudden hacking cough warned her of an assassin’s presence. A swollen ankle was a clear sign that she was about to get punched in the face. Her allergies put her one step ahead of every villain, even if she would never know what peanut butter tasted like.
“Dr. Julian! You don’t have to do this!” she cried over the howling wind. She wasn’t even sure the man could hear her, but it never hurt to use reason before you started using your fists. “You can give me the vial and no one has to get hurt.”
Dr. Julian wheeled around, a vial of bright red liquid in his hand. “Kid, you need to leave me alone. You don’t know what’s going on here.”
“I know what you’ve created, and I know you plan to give it to someone who will use it to take the world hostage. I can’t let you do that!”
Dr. Julian snarled and kept running along the top of the moving train. Ruby raced after him the best she could. At a slight bend in the track, the scientist nearly fell off.
“Dr. Julian!” Ruby cried. If he fell, his vial would fall. The scientists back at the Playground told her that would be disastrous. The superlaxative would seep into the water supply, flow into rivers and oceans, and the world would turn into one big toilet.
Ruby reached the end of her car and took a wild leap, landing hard on the next car. Then she continued to run after the scientist. He had a head start, but she was faster and more agile, and soon she had cut his lead in half. “You have to stop, Dr. Julian. You know this is wrong.”
Julian stopped and faced her. “Kid, my work is for sale to the highest bidder! I can’t stop someone from using what I create to do bad things.”
Ruby’s hands began to swell—a clear sign that Julian was lying. There was more to the scientist’s claim. A tickle in her armpit told her that Dr. Julian was being forced against his will.
“Someone has threatened you,” Ruby shouted.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Now get lost before we both get killed.”
“What did they say they’d do to you?”
Julian scowled.
Suddenly, Ruby’s eyes were swelling, which could only mean one thing: Danger. “Duck!” she shouted with no time to spare. She fell to her belly as the train plunged into a tunnel. She could feel the stone ceiling scraping against her coat, and she prayed that Dr. Julian had been able to heed her warning. When they cleared the tunnel, she got to her feet. The scientist had made it, too.
“Who is making you do this?” she continued.