When the third spoonful approached, Butch sunk his teeth into the side of Jackson’s hand. Jackson was about to cry out when he felt an odd swirling in his mouth. It felt as if his braces had come to life. They were moving left and right and up and down, and then his mouth flew open and two long metallic tentacles shot out. One snatched Butch by the jaws and forced them open, while the second grabbed the plate with the veal and poured it all into the dog’s mouth. When every last chunk was inside, the tentacles forced the dog to chew.

“That was your principal,” Jackson’s dad said as he came back into the room.

Jackson looked down and saw that the odd appendages had slipped back into his mouth. Butch looked stunned.

“He says you’ve been cutting classes and disappearing,” Mr. Jones said as he sat back down at the table.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you about—”

Jackson’s father shook his head. “Son, four weeks ago you were the most popular kid in school. Now you’ve been cut from the football team, your grades are in the toilet, and you’re turning into a delinquent. What is going on with you?”

Jackson was about to explain, but his father stopped him, again.

“Look at your brother. Chaz is an all-star. He’s dependable. He’s starting at quarterback as a freshman in high school. He’s well liked and has a million friends. If you want to know what I expect from you, just take a look at him.”

Jackson’s face reddened with anger and embarrassment.

“Whatever is causing this turnaround in you is a bad influence. Get rid of it, Jackson. Get your act together.”

Jackson’s dad turned to Butch. “You want to go for a walk, big guy?”

The dog raced out of the room.

“What’s got into him?” Mr. Jones asked.

Jackson watched his dad leave the room. After a moment, he shook off his hurt and hurried out to the garage to search in his father’s old toolbox for a pair of pliers. When he found them, he ran back inside, climbing the stairs two at a time until he reached the bathroom, and closed the door tight behind him. He flipped on the light and stepped in front of the mirror. He opened his mouth to study his braces. They were moving! He could see them swarming here and there like worker ants. What had the nerds called them? Nanobytes? Regular braces were bad enough. The last thing he needed were braces made from tiny supercomputers. He had to get rid of them. But as soon as he put the pliers in his mouth, his braces lashed out like a whip and knocked the tool out of his hand. On the next try, they snatched the pliers out of his hand and smacked him on the top of his head with them.

Jackson gave up. He went to his room and threw himself on the bed. He knew he was in big trouble. Whatever that strange computer had done to him, it had made him dangerous. He wondered how long it would be before his braces hurt someone. He imagined himself being tried and sentenced to life in prison for assault with a deadly dental device. He wondered what life would be like for a fifth grader in a federal penitentiary. Eventually he fell asleep and dreamed of a life on a chain gang, fixing the roads as Principal Dehaven stood over him shouting his name, over and over again.

When he woke, it was still dark out. He sat up, waited for his eyes to adjust, and then screamed and nearly fell out of bed.

Mr. Brand was sitting on the edge of his mattress. He looked completely different than he did at school. His face was shaved, his hair was washed, and he was dressed in an expensive-looking dark gray suit. In his hand he held a small black case.

“How did you get in my window?” Jackson cried. “I keep it locked.”

Brand smiled. “It’s a spy thing.”

“Oh,” Jackson said, climbing to his feet. “That’s what you are—a spy?”

“Special Agent Alexander Brand,” the man said, reaching out his hand. Jackson eyed him suspiciously and refused to take it. “I’m the director of NERDS.”

“The director of what?”

Brand sighed. “The National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society. NERDS. It’s an unfortunate acronym.” He reached into his pocket and removed a small blue orb much like the two Jackson had seen at the Playground. The spy pushed a button on its side, and familiar blue particles swirled out of it. “I’m kind of new to the organization, so I thought I’d bring an expert. Say hello, Benjamin.”

“Hello, Agent Brand,” said the now familiar voice. “Your requested data is ready. Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Brand said.

“Very well. Welcome to an introduction to the National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society, also known as NERDS. Allow me to introduce myself.”

Suddenly, the blue particles merged and a chubby old man in leggings and tiny spectacles appeared. He was balding, but wore his hair long in the back. Jackson recognized him at once. “You’re Benjamin Franklin.”

“Actually, Jackson, I’m the holographic representation of the teams’ supercomputer technology. I have a level-four artificial intelligence and upon request can appear as America’s great elder statesman, but the true Mr. Franklin has been dead for many years. However, you can call me Benjamin.”

Jackson reached out to shake the figure’s hand, but this only caused the image to ripple and smear.

Benjamin smiled. “Perhaps we should get started.”

Suddenly, Jackson’s room disappeared into a three-dimensional desert landscape so real he started to sweat. A beautiful pyramid rose up right before him, as well as thousands of dark-skinned men and women in tunics. They were gathered about listening to a single figure dressed in robes and a crown. Jackson guessed he was a king. He raised his hands to the sun above.

“Many people consider the real Benjamin Franklin to be America’s first spy, but I am in no way the world’s first. No, the secret agent has been around since the earliest days of recorded history. Akhenaten, the controversial Pharaoh of Egypt, enlisted his own son, Tutankhamun, to keep a careful eye on his enemies.”

The hologram revealed a small boy wearing a crown and beautiful robes. He was huddling behind a column, listening to the conversation of two men who lurked in the shadows.

“Since then, spies have been used by countless leaders,” Benjamin continued as the Egyptian setting vanished only to be replaced with three-dimensional portraits of various historical figures: Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Napoleon Bonaparte, Attila the Hun, Richard the Lionheart, Queen Elizabeth, Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill, and Fidel Castro. Suddenly, the images faded, leaving Benjamin alone.

“But secret agent work was dangerous. Spies were often killed in the line of duty. Then in the nineteen thirties and forties, everything changed. The first American computers became operational.”

Benjamin disappeared, only to be replaced by the image of a massive computer that more than filled Jackson’s room.

“It’s as big as a house,” Jackson said.

“The Mark 1, which became operational in 1944, was for the most part just a gigantic calculator, but it ushered in the age of technology, especially in the world of espionage. Soon agents could send information around the world in seconds. They could monitor targets from satellites, and they had hightech gadgets at their disposal. But there were problems.”

The Mark 1 disappeared, and in its place was a spy driving a sharp sports car along the Pacific Coast Highway. He wiped some sweat from his brow and eyed a panel of red buttons on his dash, with labels like “rocket launcher” and “turbo boost.” The spy searched the buttons until he found one labeled “air conditioner.” But when he tried to push it, he accidentally punched one that read “ejector seat” instead, and a moment later he was flying out of the top of the car and into the ocean.

“Most of the agents were not good with technology,” Benjamin explained.

The road vanished and now Jackson saw a man in a tuxedo, surrounded by ninjas. He pushed a button on his watch and a thin red laser fired, cutting the villains to ribbons. Proud of himself, the spy straightened his tie but forgot to turn off his watch, cutting off his own arm. His image was replaced by that of an agent removing a stick of gum from a package labeled “exploding gum.” She popped it into her mouth and started to chew. Just watching her face, Jackson could tell the woman had accidentally swallowed the gum. A moment later her face vanished from view, but the explosion was deafening. Benjamin returned.