WITH HAIR PLUGS AND LESS
RIDICULOUS FACIAL HAIR.
UPGRADE: DESPITE BEING
INJECTED WITH NANOBYTES, UNCLE
MITCH HAD NO POWERS AND SPENT
MUCH OF HIS TIME FLIRTING
WITH SCIENCE TEAM MEMBERS AND
SECURITY GUARDS. SHORTLY AFTER,
HIS UPGRADES WERE REMOVED
AND THE UPGRADE CHAIR WAS
REPROGRAMMED SO THAT NO ADULT
COULD RECEIVE NANOBYTES.
When the time machine flashed into August 16, 1987, Miss Information realized that perhaps she should have entered more detailed information about exactly where in Washington, D.C., the machine should drop them. It occurred to her that they could have appeared right in the middle of traffic and been hit by a bus. But there was nothing barreling at them. In fact, there was nothing in the street at all except for a few parked cars. It seemed peculiar that a street in downtown Washington, D.C., during lunch hour would be so empty, but perhaps it was just her good luck. One thing was for sure: She had an incredible sense of déjà vu.
“Welcome to 1987, team. There’s no Wi-Fi, no iPhones, no Facebook, and MTV still plays music videos,” she said.
“What’s a music video?” Tessa asked.
Miss Information frowned, suddenly feeling very old. “I hate you. I hate all of you.”
She pressed a button on her time machine and watched it collapse into a small box.
She hefted Alex onto her back and pulled Benjy out of her pocket. The little robot floated next to her, buzzing and tweeting.
“Many of my functions are inoperable, including telecommunications. I’ve concluded that the satellites needed don’t yet exist at this point in time.”
“But you still have our list of targets, correct?” she said.
“I do. In fact, the first one should be along any moment.”
Everyone peered down one end of the empty street, then they turned to peer down the other. No one was coming in either direction.
“You sure about that?” Tessa asked.
“I’m quite certain,” Benjy said.
“Something’s wrong,” Miss Information said.
“Where are all the cars?” Snot Rocket asked.
“Benjy dear, what time is it, exactly?” Miss Information asked.
“Two thirty,” he said.
“Two thirty in downtown D.C. You shouldn’t be able to walk across this street, let alone stand in the middle of it for five minutes, without seeing so much as a kid on a bicycle.”
“That’s ’cause we redirected the traffic,” a girl said as she stepped into the road. Miss Information recognized her at once. It was the poofy-haired kid with the superallergies—Ruby Peet. “There’s a very important person on his way to the immigration office and we wanted to make sure he got there unharmed.”
The migraine came on full force. Miss Information’s brain felt like it was going to break in two. Was this real or was it a dream? She couldn’t be certain. Whenever one of the NERDS showed up, she lost her focus. But why? “How did you find us?”
“We followed you,” Ruby said. “You see, you weirdos have already been to this moment and you made a huge mess. You destroyed a bus, smashed a taxicab, and made a major blunder—you got your faces in the paper. That’s the thing about wearing a black mask with a skull on it, lady. It draws a lot of attention.”
A red-haired boy with glasses stepped next to her. Heathcliff! “It was easy to figure out that you had built a time machine, but we didn’t know how to build one ourselves. That was until you made your second mistake. You shouldn’t leave highly sensitive plans for time machines lying around your secret lair,” he said. “Or leave a toxic trail to said secret lair that was easily tracked. Those are textbook no-no’s for supervillains. Very sloppy work.”
“But that wasn’t your biggest mistake, Lisa,” a man said as he joined the children in the road. He was wearing a tuxedo and using a cane. It was him—the man she dreamed about! But he wasn’t supposed to be real … “Your biggest mistake was pretending to be someone that we could care about, because now you’re surrounded by people who aren’t ready to give up on you.”
All of a sudden she couldn’t stand. Her face felt like it was on fire, scorching her mind and cooking her memories, stirring them into some confusing stew. The name Alexander boomed in her thoughts. Alexander! She looked at her scarecrow boyfriend and then back at the stranger, trying to tell the two of them apart.
The man approached and tried to help her up, but she slashed his face with her fingernails, drawing blood. He fell back in surprise.
“Get away from me,” she cried. “Whatever you think you’ve stopped, you’re wrong. You’re outnumbered. BULLIES!”
Her team circled her, ready to attack.
Five more children joined the trio. She had never seen any of them before, in dreams or in real life. They were a collection of runny-nosed losers holding some weird gadgets—clearly, no match for her BULLIES.
“Kill them!” Miss Information commanded.
Tessa raised her hands. “No!” she cried. “You didn’t tell me I’d have to hurt anyone. I just wanted my dad’s attention and I’ve made things worse. I can’t get my dad back like this.”
“Oh, Code Name to Be Decided, you disappoint me,” Miss Information growled. “BULLIES, break some heads, starting with your leader.”
The BULLIES assaulted everything that wasn’t nailed down. Thor threw an uprooted tree at the NERDS, which missed and crashed into a building. The losers had to leap out of the way of Snot Rocket’s mucus missiles, which blew up a parked car. Tammy’s voice knocked over a phone booth that landed within a foot of Ruby Peet. Funk unleashed a dark cloud of body odor over the entire battle that caused everyone to double over, gagging.
Miss Information watched all the destruction admiringly. These kids were like artists who used violence instead of paint. They were incredible!
Tessa was heartbroken. All this fighting and destruction, and for what? So her daddy would give her a hug? What had she been thinking? Now, here she was, a human target in the middle of an enormous battle. She had to escape. But how?
She scanned the road and quickly spotted her answer. The shiny silver time machine was lying on the sidewalk where Miss Information had dropped it. Ducking explosions, she ran to it and pressed the buttons just like she had seen her wicked boss do. It unfolded right before her eyes. The control panel dazzled with possibilities, but where should she go? And when? Was there some place in all of space and time that she could hide from Miss Information? Her heart sank. The answer was likely no. The woman was relentless, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be erasing Tessa, too.
If that were the case, she wanted a chance to say good-bye to her family.
She entered an address and a date, and with all her strength she turned the wheel to start the machine. It barely moved. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough, but she had to be. Slowly but surely, with straining muscles and tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned the wheel faster and faster. Tessa Lipton vanished from the year 1987.
When the machine stopped, she stood outside Arlington Memorial Hospital. The readout said July 29, 2001. She pressed the button that shrank the time machine and shoved it in her pocket.