Zack & Zoey Save Walt's Brain -or- Tinker Bell's Time-Travel Tragedy

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Zack & Zoey Save Walt's Brain -or- Tinker Bell's Time-Travel Tragedy Page 4

by MJ Ware


  Her smile dropped away. "Who are you?"

  "Well, that's going to take a little explaining," Zoey said.

  "Are you Zoey and Zack?"

  "What! How'd you know?" Zoey asked.

  "And you've traveled into the future?"

  "Oh my gosh. You really are the smartest person in the entire world," Zoey cried.

  Sunny ran forward and gave Zoey a huge hug, almost lifting her off her feet.

  "It was simple deduction, really." Sunny seemed really calm about the whole 'meeting people who'd just traveled into the future' thing. "I recognized you from when we were kids. But you haven't aged since I last saw you, right before you disappeared. So the only logical conclusion is either you've traveled from the past, or I'm hallucinating."

  "Still, I never knew you were that smart."

  "We could have been ghosts," Tommy said.

  "But who's he?" Sunny pointed to Tommy.

  "I'm in love." Tommy smiled at her as if she was a double bacon cheeseburger smothered in Ranch sauce.

  "I mean, he looks like Tommy Traddles, but Tommy's doing research for WED Scientific."

  "I am not. I would never hurt Walt Disney!"

  "Hurt Walt Disney?" she asked, puzzled.

  I couldn't stop staring at Sunny. She was a completely different person; I mean it was Sunny, but not the Sunny I expected. No glasses. No pocket protector. I was sort of stunned, but managed to lift up the sweatshirt we had Walt wrapped in.

  "A head?" Sunny got the evil scientist gleam in her eyes that I'd seen many times. "Tell me you have Walt Disney's cranium in there?"

  "No, it's his head," Tommy said.

  "There've been rumors ever since they figured out how to repair the crystalline damage caused by the freezing process, but I never imagined they were true." She took Walt from me and unwrapped him with the care normally reserved for the last present on Christmas morning. "Tommy Traddles, what have you been hiding from me?"

  "Nothing," Tommy cried and flopped down on a rolling stool.

  "I think she's talking about the other Tommy," I said.

  "Zack, stop staring at Sunny." Zoey hit me in the arm.

  "Ouch!" I said, moving back. "What's a matter with you?"

  "Just stop staring."

  "What are you talking about?" I glanced up at Sunny, trying to figure out what Zoey was so mad about.

  "Owwee!" Somehow, Zoey managed to punch me in the exact same spot, except twice as hard, and even though Dad always says real men don't, I rubbed my arm.

  Sunny sat Walt on a big metal lab table and started connecting all sorts of electrodes and cables to him as we told her what had happened. She listened as she worked, only stopping us a few times to ask questions or for extra details. I couldn't believe she bought our story or at least wasn't totally freaked out.

  Once we were finished, she ignored us for a few seconds, thinking. Then she said, "So, the question is, how do we get you three back to the correct location in your own timeline?" She closely examined the severed head on the table. "Maybe we should ask Walt?"

  A few seconds later, Walt Disney's eyelids popped open, and two dark hazel eyes drilled into us.

  "Ahh!" the three of us screamed together.

  Chapter 11 – The Many Boogers Theory

  "Calm down, guys." Sunny quickly turned a knob, hit a couple switches; the eyes closed, one at a time. She smiled. "That was me. I was just testing his responses to my interface, sorry."

  "What is wrong with you?" Zoey looked as though she was about to take Sunny down—which I would have paid a month's lunch money to see. "That was so not funny."

  "It was funny for me." She smiled again, and I think Tommy giggled. "But seriously, let's figure out how we're going to get you back to your own dimension."

  "So, we didn't just travel to the future, but to a whole other dimension?" I asked.

  "Yes, it must be." She eyed Tommy. "It's him. There can only be one Tommy that belongs in this dimension."

  "But we already told you, Tommy was half out of the machine. We think he got split in two."

  "What must have happened"—Sunny was tapping on the counter—"is you created an alternate timeline. In your correct timeline, Tommy disappeared at the same time as both of you—all three of you are missing. But in this one, he stayed behind."

  "Just what does that mean, our correct timeline? How can there be more than one?"

  "It would take me hours to explain the mathematics." Sunny wrinkled her nose as she thought. She still had those same little freckles. "Here's a better example… Let's call it the Many Boogers Theory."

  "The Many what Theory?" Zoey asked, as if she hoped she'd heard her wrong.

  "Just hear me out. Every living person on earth, at any moment, can decide whether or not to pick their nose. There's a Many Worlds Theory that basically says in one timeline they pick it, and in another they don't. There's almost eight billion people on the earth, so that's eight billion new timelines every second. And that's just picking your nose. The theory goes that anytime you have a choice, you do both options, creating a new dimension in the process."

  "Who knew science was filled with so many boogers?" I said.

  "I only pick my nose when it's crusty and always wipe my hands on my socks afterwards." Tommy smiled as if he had just said something insightful.

  "This sick fixation on boogers aside"—Zoey glanced at Tommy's socks and took a step back—"that's just an insane number of timelines."

  "Yep." Sunny connected a glowing plug to Walt. "But your presence is strong evidence it's correct. Though I've been working on my own theory that only some choices create new timelines."

  "Like the important ones?"

  "Sort of. But more like decisions that are more likely to happen. Take Tommy and Zack. According to my theory, in no dimension does Tommy reach over and give Zoey a kiss right now. It's just too unlikely. He doesn't like Zoey, and even if he did, he'd never have the nerve to try it in front of us."

  Tommy's face turned red.

  "Zack, on the other hand, is secretly in love with Zoey—"

  "What? I am not!" I said, as Zoey started blushing, too.

  "So, the odds of him leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek are much greater." Sunny went back to work on the head.

  "You mean"—Zoey gazed in my direction—"there's a universe where Zack kisses me?" I could tell this whole kissing timeline thing was going to lead to trouble.

  "Even if my limited Many Worlds Theory is flawed, I think it's safe to say, yes, almost certainly, there's a timeline where Zack has admitted his love for you and kisses you often."

  "Rotten luck," she said. "Born in the wrong timeline."

  "I am not secretly in love with Zoey," I protested.

  "The Universe has spoken, Zack." Zoey shook her head and smiled. "You can't deny the Universe."

  "Enough about boogers and kisses," Sunny said. "We're going to have to get you three back to that time machine if you ever want to get home. And I can't wait to see it."

  "We'll have to get past Night, first," I said.

  "Who?" Sunny stopped what she was doing, hands and wires in mid-air.

  "Mr. Night," I explained. "The guy running the lab. Didn't we mention him?"

  "No, not by name," she whispered and immediately started disconnecting cables. "I should have known. This is bad. Very, very bad."

  "Sunny, what's wrong?" Zoey asked.

  "I connected the head to the network. I didn't realize Night was involved."

  "Why does it matter?" I asked.

  "He's one of the most powerful—and probably the most evil—CEOs in the world." She quickly took off her lab coat and tossed it on a stool. "The company doesn't just operate theme parks and produce movies anymore. Night runs half the Internet and is making a bid to take over the power grid."

  "The power grid?"

  "All power is traded on the futures market. Anyone who controls it stands to make a fortune in transaction fees." Sunny picked up Wa
lt's head. "They'll be here any second. We've got to get going."

  "Who will? What are you talking about?" Zoey asked.

  Something caught my eye out of one of the big windows along the far wall. "Maybe… them?" I pointed to a group of missiles flying straight toward us.

  "Oh, this isn't good." Zoey seemed more irritated than panicked—but she was the only one.

  Chapter 12 – Autonomous, Ram-Jet Flying Robot Attack

  "Quick! Follow me." With Walt's head in one hand and a fistful of wires and electrical components in the other, Sunny headed for the door. "We'll take my car."

  "We can't outrun missiles," I shouted as we followed her, dashing down the stairs.

  "They aren't missiles."

  "Then what are they?" Zoey cried, looking behind us.

  "They're autonomous ram-jet-powered flying robots, of course," Sunny said as we ran out into the parking lot.

  "Of course." Zoey rolled her eyes. "Don't I feel stupid for not knowing the difference?"

  High in the sky, the missile-like robot things closed in. Sunny had put a little distance between us, but the robots seemed to be gaining fast.

  "The important thing is that they are much slower than missiles, but they can track you." Sunny clicked her remote, and the lights blinked on a cherry-red Corvette. With two stout wings and a pair of rotary engines, it was unlike any Corvette I'd ever seen.

  "How much slower?" I asked.

  "Don't know. They're still experimental. These are the first ones I've seen."

  "You've even got your own parking spot?" Zoey asked.

  "Wow, this isn't a car. You said a car." Tommy gaped at the Corvette.

  "Yes, technically the word car originates from the Latin carrus, meaning four-wheeled—"

  "Hey, no fair!" I yelled as Tommy jumped in the front seat. "You didn't call shotgun."

  "Oh, now you'd rather sit in the front seat with Sunny." Zoey put her hand on her hips. "Is this the worst dimension ever or what?"

  A blue blur rushed by, knocking Zoey aside and snatching the head from Sunny's arms. She tried not to let go but only managed to hold onto the metal box that was connected to the head. Cables and fiber optic wires ripped out of the box as it pulled away from Walt. They were pretty long, and without thinking, I lunged at them.

  My feet were yanked off the ground as I flew up into the air. I knew what I had to do: Let go—and fast. The longer I waited, the higher I climbed, the farther I'd fall. Wait too long, and I'd end up a splat on the sidewalk.

  I held my breath and let go.

  I didn't fall.

  Sunny and Zoey's cries quickly faded. I must have been a hundred feet off the ground. One of the fiber optic cables had caught on the string from my Tigers sweatshirt.

  I was too high to cut myself loose. Carefully, so I didn't slip out of the sweatshirt, I tied a bunch of the fiber optic wires around my belt and then tried not to think about how big of a splat I'd make if I fell.

  I kept my eyes off the ground. From here, the thing didn't look much like a missile, more like a tin-can robot. It had arms, but they were only two cylinders that bent at the shoulders and elbows and it had no hands. I figured once we landed—if we landed—I might have a shot at grabbing the head and making a run for it.

  Behind me, the sound of metal being smashed up rang out. Sunny was pitching the Corvette back and forth, knocking the rest of the squadron out of the sky like bowling pins.

  They pulled up, partway under me.

  Zoey rolled down the window, stood, and reached up. "Zack, give me your hand."

  "I can't!"

  She grabbed my foot. "Let go of the wires."

  "I'm stuck," I said.

  Sunny yanked the controls; the 'vette shot up and scooped me into the car.

  I fell into Zoey's lap. "You're supposed to be the one to sweep me off my feet," she said.

  "Sunny, keep close to it!" I stood up, cold wind smacking me in the face.

  Zoey wrapped her arms around my legs. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

  With both hands I reached up for Walt's head, but he was out of reach. "A little higher," I hollered.

  The flying car slammed onto the robot, knocking Walt out of its arms. The head flew, but it was still attached to the cables, which were tied around my waist, so I reeled it in like a fishing line and then fell back into Zoey's lap.

  "Thanks for the lift." I took a deep breath.

  "This is where you kiss me." Zoey smiled.

  "Yeah, I don't think so."

  "Seriously? I just saved your worthless life."

  "How about kissing Walt? I doubt he'll complain."

  Zoey was about to hit me when the flying robot dove at the car—smacking into it right as the window closed.

  Sunny pushed a lever forward. The engine roared to life, and the car shot into the sky, but the robot kept right behind us.

  "Can you outrun it?" I asked as I wiggled out of Zoey's lap into the next seat and put a seatbelt on.

  "Unlikely."

  "Why bother with a flying sports car if you can't outrun a robot?" I asked.

  "Because it can do zero to sixty in one-point-five seconds." She pushed a lever forward, and we were thrown back into our seats so hard my eyes squished in the back of my head like Jell-O.

  The robot smashed into the side of the craft and started pounding at the window.

  Sunny drove above a large boulevard and started jerking the wheel, trying to shake him.

  Tommy sat more in Sunny's seat than in his own. "It doesn't look that dangerous up close."

  "Maybe they haven't added any armaments yet," I said. "You know, because they're still in the test phase."

  Unfortunately, it appeared its robotic arms were functional: even without fingers, it was trying to pry the door open.

  "There's only this one left." Tommy was chewing on his fingers. "Maybe we could take it out."

  "But how?" Zoey asked.

  "It's basically a computer with wings," I said. "How do you break a computer?"

  "I spilled a Coke on mine," Tommy said.

  "That won't help," I replied. "We need to find something we can use."

  "I tried to shut it down, but it filled the whole house with smoke."

  "Tommy, you just gave me an idea." Sunny hit a bunch of buttons, and the hover car started beeping, like when someone takes their seatbelt off too soon.

  She pulled the steering wheel hard, and the car flipped upside-down.

  Thud! Thud!

  Tommy and Walt's heads both slammed into the roof. Zoey hung on to me. I put my arms around her, careful not to touch the shoulder Pinocchio had grabbed.

  Driving upside-down, Sunny drove onto a golf course and smashed the roof against the turf. The car bounced up, and grass and dirt streaked the windows, but the robot still held on.

  "Sunny!" Zoey screamed. "Do something! Fast. It's getting in."

  The robot managed to pry the window from the doorframe. It must not have been glass, because it didn't break. But just a couple more inches, and the arm would be able to reach in.

  "Small bump coming," Sunny said and made a sharp turn.

  I saw the lake a second before we hit.

  Sunny had plowed the car into the water, driving a good foot under the surface. Water began pouring in.

  "That's what you call a small bump?" Zoey asked.

  "It's no use," I cried. "He's still holding on, and we're all going to drown if you keep this up."

  "Just a second more…" Sunny pulled the 'vette out of the water and quickly flipped it back over. Water sprayed into our faces so hard it stung.

  The steering wheel danced around in Sunny's hands. The mechanical menace still struggled to get in the window. A trail of smoke billowed in its wake.

  Sparks flew. It sputtered and then fell, exploding into a fireball when it hit the street.

  "All we needed was a liquid," Sunny said.

  I let go of Zoey and turned to look out the window so she would
n't get any ideas.

  "So, where to now?" Tommy asked, rubbing his head.

  "The high school." Sunny steered the car back onto the road. "I have keycard access on account of my work with the Science in Schools program."

  The high school didn't seem any different from ours—except for the holographic message board out front declaring it Flux Capacitor Appreciation Day.

  "I can't believe they make a four-seat Corvette," I said as we got out of the flying car.

  "California mandate," Sunny replied, "to encourage carpooling."

  When we got to the school building, I said, "Hey, this is the entrance to the auditorium."

  "Yep. If we are going to sneak you back into the park, we need costumes."

  Chapter 13 – Tinker Bell Tutu Tragedy

  "But that's stealing," Tommy cried. "We could get expelled from the entire district."

  "No, once we restore the timeline, it will be like none of this ever happened." Sunny swiped her access card. "So it's not actually stealing."

  "Sunny, I swear you should have been a lawyer. You have a gift for rationalizing crimes." I scanned the area to make sure no one saw us entering.

  "I'll have you know I went back and paid for every one of those umbrellas," Sunny said.

  The stage was a mess of set pieces and clothes. Everything was tossed around; half the costumes were on the floor under the clothes racks.

  "What happened here?" I asked.

  "All funding for the arts was cut once Bill Gates got his hands around the school's curriculum."

  "Wow, this really is a messed-up dimension," I said.

  "Zack, you and Tommy find some pirate costumes." Sunny dug through a pile of dresses. "Zoey and I will pass ourselves off as princesses."

  "Zoey? A princess?" I asked, watching them rummage through the clothes.

  "What does that mean?" Zoey dropped the dress she had picked up and glared at me. "You don't think I'm pretty enough to be a princess?"

  "No, no. It's not that. It's just… ummm…" Think quick, Zack, like your life depends on it. "Your age—you're too young. That's it. Too young to pass for a princess."

  "What about Alice?" Sunny handed her a blue and white dress.

  "I've always wanted to be Alice." Taking the dress, Zoey ran back to the dressing area.

  "Here's one for Sunny." Tommy held up what looked like a pirate wench costume. "We can be a couple."

  "Not my style," Sunny said. "Besides, Princess Alestia is the only princess with purple hair." She took a flowing pink dress with long sleeves back to the dressing room with her. "You two keep digging around for pirate costumes."

 

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