“Next time, darling, we should take off the masks before we kiss,” she said.

“Agreed,” he said as he spit a bit of lint out of his mouth. “Now, what were you saying about taking over the world?”

“Yes, yes—look around you,” she said, gesturing to his imprisoned soldiers. “What do you see?”

“A hundred lunatics all bent on taking over the world!”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not what you see.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, you see opportunity,” she said. “This virus they have inside them is spreading. Everyone who contracts it joins the ranks of evildoers.”

“And how does that help me?”

Miss Information giggled. “Oh, silly, you don’t have to hide your genius from me. I know perfectly well that you are already planning to set them free.”

“Set them free?”

“Yes, because if we set them free, they will cause chaos, especially for the NERDS. But better than that, the virus will spread. The infected will overrun the world, crippling governments, conquering the military, and doing all our hard work for us. Then they will turn on one another, and while they fight it out, we can sit back and watch it all unfold, ready to take our rightful place when there’s no one left. It’s a genius idea that only my little love puppy could imagine.”

The Antagonist nodded. Of course it was genius. It was his idea. Though some of the details were not so clear until this amazing woman helped him flesh it all out. Right?

“Exactly,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her again, this time more passionately. She returned his affection, and once more they stood and stared, as if seeing each other for the first time.

“Darling, we forgot about the masks, again,” Miss Information said.

“Um, yes,” he replied, spitting out another bit of lint. “Next time. For now, we have a world to conquer.”

Flinch sat on an examination table in the Playground, feeling like a jerk.

“He benched me,” he said to Dr. Kim. “The last two missions I’ve been on I screwed up. Paris is a mess and the Empire State Building is small enough to step on.”

She shook her head. “Flinch, that’s not why you’re here, and even if it was, you can still be a big help to this mission. We need to do some tests. Maybe we can find out why you didn’t suffer from the nanobytes like the others.”

“While I’m on the bench,” he grumbled.

Dr. Kim and several other scientists collected blood and hair samples, peered into his eyes and nose, checked his blood pressure and reflexes, and swabbed the inside of his cheeks. They examined his harness and the connection devices that linked his bloodstream to it. They took his temperature, peered at his tongue, and had him run on a treadmill, both at superspeed and under his own natural power. Then they hurried away to study the results, leaving him alone with Dr. Kim. She was a nice lady, but she spent the next couple of hours staring into her microscope while he tried to keep himself occupied. Not an easy task after you’ve emptied three boxes of hot cocoa mix into your mouth. He was so jittery, he fell out of his chair seven times, but nothing could take his mind off his recent failures. As many times as Dr. Kim tried to assure him that his role in the team was important, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was being punished. For a moment he wondered if perhaps the nanobytes were making him paranoid, but he didn’t feel like a genius or that everyone was laughing at him. He knew he had screwed up. It was just normal, regular, everyday paranoia.

Dr. Kim sat down on a chair in front of him. Her face looked grim, and he panicked. “I have the disease!” he cried before she could say a word. He was going to go crazy, too! He darted across the room and into one of the empty holding cells, slammed the door shut, then took the key and swallowed it. It was the best thing for everyone, he told himself.

“Flinch, come out of the cell,” Dr. Kim said.

“No! I’m too dangerous,” he shouted. “I have to lock myself up for the good of humankind. Just push a plate of gummi bears and a juice box under the door from time to time. I’ll be fine!”

“Flinch, calm down. You’re freaking out for no reason,” the scientist said.

“Don’t try to talk me out of this, Doc!” he said. “I’m better off in here, growing my toenails long and working on a big bushy beard. Don’t worry about me. I’ll make friends with the lint in my belly button!”

“Agent! You’re not sick!”

Flinch was surprised. “Huh? But I had a fever. I wanted to take over the world.”

“You had the virus, but you beat it. The alien nanobytes have been disabled,” she said. “Your body created an immunity.”

“Then … Matilda and the others will get better, too?” Flinch asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Dr. Kim said. “Their bodies don’t have the same fighting power yours does. You see, when a virus invades, white blood cells are sent to fight and kill it. Some viruses are too strong for the cells, and that’s how a person gets sick. That’s what happened to Matilda and Sherman.”

“Then why didn’t that happen to me?” Flinch asked.

“Your white blood cells are different. I’ve never seen anything like them. They are flooded with sugar, which gives them energy, and then your upgrades supercharge them, turning them into little firecrackers. The alien nanobytes never had a chance.”

“So I’m not going to go crazy?”

“Not any crazier than you are right now,” she said with a laugh. “You’re not a danger to anyone, Flinch—except for those who stand between you and a box of chocolate-covered cherries. Come on out.”

Flinch tried the cell door. It was locked tight. He gave his harness knob a twist and then ripped the door out of the wall.

Dr. Kim didn’t seem fazed. “Agent Brand told me to send you back to class. He says the team has the Monkey Master under control and will be back soon.”

“OK,” Flinch said. He left and headed for the middle of the dome. In the center was a panel of blinking buttons. One was labeled RETURN TO CLASS. Before he pushed it he turned to Dr. Kim, who had followed him. “Um, sorry about that door.”

“It happens,” she said.

Flinch grinned and pressed the button. The gigantic fans turned on, and soon he was pushed up through the dome and into the tunnel system. He fully expected to land inside Locker 41, but instead he found himself in his chair in Mr. Gilligan’s health class just as the roll was being called. Flinch popped up so quickly that no one even noticed his arrival.

“Julio Escala? Has anyone seen Julio Escala?” the teacher snapped.

“Here!” Julio said.

Mr. Gilligan sighed. “People! You need to speak up when I’m calling attendance. Tommy Friedman?”

Before Tommy could answer, there was a knock at the door. It swung open, and Ms. Dove and Mrs. Reinhold, the science teacher, entered the room. As usual, Ms. Dove was all smiles, but Mrs. Reinhold looked like a vengeful god from Mount Olympus.

If Flinch hadn’t known any better, he might have thought actual flames were burning in her eyes. He didn’t need to be told they were there for him. He slid out of his chair and followed the two women down the hall and into the principal’s office, where they closed the door behind him.

“Mr. Escala, I find you in my office for the second time this week,” Ms. Dove said with an exaggerated pouty face. “You realize there have only been three days of school so far. You are not starting off very well.”

“He threatened me!” Mrs. Reinhold shouted.

“Threatened?” Flinch said. “I did not!”

“He said he would relieve himself in my classroom!”

Flinch struggled to respond. What was he supposed to say? I had to go save the world, and that kind of thing is usually urgent? But he didn’t have to say anything. Mrs. Reinhold launched into a fiery tirade, describing his high crimes and outlining the bleak future that lay ahead of him.