“I have a way with computers,” Albert said modestly.

“I know, and it’s a talent that could prove very useful to me. I’d like to hire you, Albert. I want you to build something for me with that amazing brain of yours, and I can pay you very well. My friend informed you of what I’m offering—correct?”

“He said you could give me superpowers,” Albert said, eyeing the big man for traces of a lie.

“That is true. I have access to a machine that can take your weaknesses and turn them into strengths. With the great number of weaknesses you possess, you could be turned into an incredibly powerful individual. You could become a real superhero, Albert. Though, I hope you will give some thought to a career in supervillainy. It can be quite rewarding.”

A television monitor mounted on a tree came to life with a fuzzy image. “I’d like to show you something,” Simon continued as the image came into focus. Albert wasn’t exactly sure what he was seeing. It looked like thousands of electronic bees scurrying about in a strange, light-filled hive. He studied them, then realized what he was seeing: not living creatures, but tiny robots. The longer he looked, the wider his mouth opened.

“Are those—”

“Nanobytes,” Simon said.

Albert stammered, “Scientists have been developing those for over a decade, but what you have here is way beyond the current science. How? Where?”

“All will be revealed in time. And, anyway, wouldn’t you prefer to know what they do?”

Albert smiled. He liked mysteries, especially ones involving computers.

The image zoomed out until the little robots were smaller and smaller and smaller. When the camera stopped, all Albert could see was a set of huge buckteeth.

“Those things are in your mouth?” Albert cried.

Simon laughed. “Yes, they have been implanted into my two front teeth. They create a hallucinogenic phenomenon that makes people susceptible to hypnotic suggestions.”

“So it’s mind control! You control people’s minds with your teeth!”

Simon nodded. “The ability has been further supercharged by a hallucinogenic toothpaste. Combined with my incredible charm and good looks—”

Albert interrupted him. “If you can control people, what do you need me for? All you have to do is flash those big teeth and people will do whatever you say. Everything you could ever want is at your fingertips.”

“Not everything, my new friend. The nanobytes cannot give me revenge. You see, there’s a certain boy in this town with technology similar to mine and I’d like to destroy him.”

“Why not send this guy?” Albert said, pointing to the goon.

“What fun would that be? I’d rather make him doubt himself and the things he holds dear. You see, my friend, it is not fists or superpowers that destroy a man, it’s self-doubt. Albert, you are going to help me destroy this boy, and when he is destroyed you will get your superpowers.”

“Has this kid committed a crime? Is he a bad person?”

Simon shook his head. “Actually, he’s really very nice.”

“But if I help you destroy him, that would make me a villain.”

Simon nodded.

Albert searched his brain for other superheroes who had started out as villains before they turned to a life of fighting crime. “I don’t know about this. How do you want me to help you?”

“My nanobytes allow me to control the mind of any living thing that looks at my teeth. I want you to build a device that will allow me to do the same thing to computers. Once I have people and technology under my control, I will have the tools to destroy my enemies and rule the world.” Simon laughed hysterically and his squirrels joined him.

“Wait, I thought you just wanted to destroy this one kid,” Albert said. “You didn’t tell me you wanted to take over the world.”

Simon’s eyes shone in the spotlight. “Albert, I’m an evil genius. It’s always about taking over the world. Oh, don’t frown. I think it’s a small price to pay for superpowers, don’t you?”

Like a lot of gym teachers, Coach Babcock loved to torture his students. He felt he had failed as a teacher if his students didn’t cry out for mercy. He often bragged that he held the school district’s record for causing the most hysterical breakdowns in one afternoon. He used such classic forms of torture as weight training, wrestling, long-distance running, rope climbing, wind sprints, chin-ups, and the occasional game of wet dodgeball (the wet ball was superloud when it hit a kid, and it left a huge red welt). But his favorite device of torment was so horrible, so truly evil, that it would drive most children to the brink of madness. It was the square dance.

For six weeks of the school year, his students suffered through the Star Promenade, the Slip the Clutch, and the Ferris Wheel. As Babcock saw it, square dancing was the most embarrassing and uncomfortable form of dancing ever created, and a perfect way to prepare his students for the crushing heartbreak of life. Square dancing was a metaphor for life—you got swung around and just when you thought you were free, you got dragged back into the dance. He really thought he was doing the kids a favor.

But he couldn’t teach them if the tornado alarm kept going off in the middle of a do-si-do, like it was now. Babcock looked out the window at the crystal-blue sky and sighed. Arlington had more tornado warnings than any place he had ever lived, and all of them were false alarms. He considered ignoring the siren and forcing his class to continue to Flip the Diamond, but if a tornado came after all and one of the kids got blown away, well, he’d be in for another disciplinary hearing. Discouraged, he ordered the children out through the double doors to the basement, where they would be safe. He left the gym empty, except for the sounds of fiddles and banjos coming from the old record player.

When everyone was gone, a slender hand removed the needle from the dusty record and the music stopped. Ms. Lisa Holiday locked the double doors that led out of the gym, then did the same to the emergency door. When she was satisfied there were no prying eyes, she rushed across the recently waxed gym floor, her high heels tapping out every step. When she got to the thick rope that hung down from the rafters, she grasped it in both hands and gave it three quick tugs. At once an unseen machine began to rumble beneath her feet. A blue light on the gym wall started to flash and the ceiling above slowly and silently retracted, revealing the bright blue sky above.

“All clear,” she said, and a wall of the gym spun around and a team of scientists in white coats rushed into the room, followed by a team of mechanics wearing bright orange jumpsuits and hoods. Then part of the floor opened and slowly an enormous space jet rose up from below. It was painted yellow just like a school bus and had two huge wings and a needle nose. The mechanics busied themselves attaching huge fuel tubes to it while the scientists opened control panels and tinkered with its engine.

Finally, Agent Brand hobbled into the room with the help of his cane. Behind him were Duncan, Ruby, Matilda, Jackson, and Flinch.

Duncan smiled. He loved the School Bus—the name they had given the ship. He had seen plenty of spy movies with dashing heroes, but none of them had a space jet! He rushed to it and was soon climbing up the side like a spider. He startled a scientist standing on a lift checking the wind calculators in the ship’s nose. The man tumbled backward. Luckily, Matilda was already zipping about using her superinhalers and managed to snatch him in free fall. She dropped him into Flinch’s strong arms.

“Sorry,” Duncan called out sheepishly.