Suddenly, Ruby felt the floor begin to shake. She held on to her seat and watched as several books fell off the shelves and tumbled to the floor. “Duncan, what’s going on?” She asked. “Are there tanks outside?”

“There’s nothing outside,” Duncan said. “I have no idea where that noise is coming from.”

The sound was getting louder and the shaking more intense. “What about a helicopter?” Jackson asked.

“What kind of helicopter cracks marble floors?” Matilda asked.

“The walls in the main office are crumbling like crackers,” Duncan said.

Pufferfish, Braceface, and Wheezer ran out of the library and toward the noise. In the hallway there was an explosion of snapping wood, pulverized concrete, bursting pipes, and boiling steam.

“Maybe it’s an earthquake!” Flinch cried as he joined the com-link.

Ruby shook her head. “It’s not an earthquake. It’s her, and she’s not coming from the sky or outside. She’s coming from underneath! Where is Tessa right now?”

“She’s in pre-algebra,” Duncan shouted. “Room 111-A.”

“Go!” Ruby shouted, and she, Jackson, and Matilda dashed off to find the classroom. As they turned the corner, Flinch appeared like a lightning flash in a thunderstorm. The hall was empty so no one spotted his superspeed. Duncan joined them outside of Tessa’s class, but it was too late. They could see through the window in the classroom door that the floor was buckling, being thrust upward as a large, metallic drill broke the surface.

Ruby threw open the door. “Everyone listen up. Get out of this room now!” she shouted, but the students were far too shocked and terrified to follow instructions. “Listen to me! All of you are in danger. I need everyone to get up from their desks and—”

She didn’t get to finish. The drill shot up out of the floor like a whale breaching the waves. It fell down hard on its side, knocking students and desks over in a massive shock wave.

The agents leaped into action when the large machine fired a rocket directly at them, a plume of black smoky death trailing behind it. Ruby barely had time to shout a warning and dive out of the way before the missile crashed into the very spot where she and the NERDS had been standing. Ruby staggered to her feet and squinted through the black air for Tessa Lipton. She couldn’t let Ms. Holi—no, Miss Information—take the president’s daughter, but she couldn’t see and her ears were buzzing like they had been colonized by honeybees.

But Ruby “Pufferfish” Peet didn’t need any of those senses. She had a sixth sense her doctor called “overactive allergies.” She closed her eyes and tried to tune out the screech in her ears. Instead, she listened to the messages her body was telling her. Her puffy glands and runny nose were speaking loud and clear.

A row of red sores appeared on her forearm. She knew what that meant—goons. She was allergic to goons, and by the number of bumps she could tell there were eight of them spilling out of a hatch in the machine. A sudden swelling in her right big toe meant one was in striking distance. She swung, made contact, and felt the bad guy slump to the floor. Now there were seven bumps, so only seven goons. But where were they? The itching of her ear allowed her to play a game of hotter/colder. The closer she got to the next villain, the more her ear itched, and soon she was whacking him in the jaw. Six bumps.

A phlegmy cough meant there was someone behind her. She was allergic to being snuck up on. A quick turn matched with a swift kick to the goon’s groin sent him toppling over in pain. Wait—puffy lips! A fast elbow behind her, right into the Adam’s apple of another of Miss Information’s toadies. Four bumps left.

“Pufferfish, are you OK?” Duncan shouted through the noise. “We can’t see you!”

“I’m fine,” Ruby said, smashing another goon in the face. “Find Tessa!”

But then there was a ridge of red, hot sores sprouting up her back. She was allergic to betrayal. The only explanation: Miss Information had arrived.

“I can’t let you do this, Ms. Holiday,” Ruby cried, forgetting her old friend’s alias in the panic of the moment.

“Don’t call me that!” the former librarian bellowed. “My name is Miss Information—or Master, if you want to get a head start on what the world will soon be calling me.”

Even through the mask Ruby could hear the woman’s rage. Why did she hate to be called by her real name? Was she really that disconnected from reality? If only Ruby could reach her, take her by the hand, and let her know they still loved her. Unfortunately, she had more immediate problems. A stinging pain in her ears told her that the other goons had surrounded her. She was allergic to being surrounded.

She swung at one, clipping him in the temple, and he fell over with a thud. Her right leg shot out behind her and nailed a second thug in the belly. She could hear the wind exploding out of his mouth even if she couldn’t see his face through the smoke. There was only one punk left to worry about and then she could deal with Ms. Holiday, but he had abandoned the fight and snatched Tessa. He dragged the poor, screaming girl into the bizarre drill machine while Miss Information looked on.

“Don’t do this, Ms. Holiday!” Ruby begged.

The villain stood motionless, staring at Ruby. She tilted her head as if trying to shake something loose from her brain. For a moment, Ruby believed she had gotten through to the former librarian. But then another rocket fired out of the machine, and Ruby was forced to leap for her life once more. By the time she had recovered, the drill was spinning and the machine was slipping back into the massive sinkhole. There was nothing Ruby or anyone else could do to stop it.

Even though Miss Information had technically kidnapped Tessa, she still wanted to make a good impression. So when her goons brought the frightened, tired girl to meet her, she had a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies ready.

“Have a cookie, sweetie. I made them myself,” she said.

Tessa eyed the treats suspiciously. “You’re in big trouble, lady! My father won’t rest until I’m found. He’ll send the military, the Secret Service, the CIA, and the FBI. If he has to, he’ll even send the Boy Scouts!”

“Oh, honey, you know that’s not true. Your daddy is far too concerned with his next election to make a big scene out of getting you back. How would it look to voters if he can’t protect his own daughter? No, I think what will most likely happen is, he’ll quietly do everything to find you, and then he’ll attempt to negotiate your return at a bargain price. He likes being president, and he’s not about to let you ruin it for him.”

Miss Information watched Tessa’s face fall. She got no pleasure in hurting the girl’s feelings, but young Ms. Lipton needed to see the truth if she was going to be of any use.

“I know how it must feel,” Ms. Holiday continued. “You’re not his top priority, and that’s heartbreaking. But he does have a long history of disappointing you, doesn’t he? When he was the mayor of Arlington, he missed your preschool graduation. When he was the governor of Virginia, he went to a campaign fund-raiser lunch instead of your ballet recital. He was a no-show at your soccer team’s championship and even a couple of Christmases. You’re a very forgiving person to let him get away with it, Tessa. You’re a much stronger person than me.”

“You don’t understand. His job isn’t easy,” Tessa snapped.

“That’s what your mother says to make you feel better, right? I’m sure she’s very worried about you, but she’ll keep quiet. She’s really not a wave-maker, is she? So sad. You’re just not on their list of priorities.”

“How do you know that?” Tessa whispered.