The Smartest Kid in the Universe

by Chris Grabenstein

  “But you’re okay?”

  “I’m doing as well as can be expected, thank you for asking. However, my laboratory was completely destroyed. I was working on your jelly beans, Jake. But I can’t tell you their formulas because the fire destroyed my computers. Melted them into smoldering lumps. The inferno also devoured my notes, my files, my chemicals, and my equipment. Everything. It’s all gone. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  “Thank you, Subject One. Unfortunately, I’m afraid this will delay our noble experiment. Everything I worked on for over a decade? Gone. Poof!”

  “But you backed everything up, right?”

  “Yes. That would’ve been a good idea. I wish I’d thought to do it before today. Oh, by the way, the college administrators have terminated my position as a research assistant.”

  “What? No way.”

  “Way. But don’t worry, Jake. I have family. A sister in New Jersey. She and her husband have graciously agreed to let me live with them for a while. In their basement. They don’t want me doing experiments down there, of course, but that’s okay. My PhD will just have to wait. I’ll find a better-paying job and, after I make enough money, I’ll rent a proper laboratory. One with smoke detectors and fire extinguishers. And then, when I make even more money, I’ll buy a new computer and some chemicals and shiny new lab equipment. I’ll make new and better jelly beans. If I did it once, I can do it again. It just might take another ten years.”

  “So,” said Jake, “I hate to even bring this up, since I’m not the one who just lost his lab and job…”

  “Temporary setbacks, my friend. I’ll bounce back.”

  “But will I stay smart? Forever?”

  “Yes, Subject One, I believe so. Unless, of course, the effects wear off, which I am starting to think won’t happen due to the fact that you ingested so many IK capsules at once. I hypothesize that your brain will continue to experience fantastic knowledge leaps. Either that or it’ll crash and burn.”

  “Mr. Farooqi?”

  “Yes, Jake?”

  “Why me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why did I become Subject One?”

  “Because, as you might recall, you ate my jelly beans.”

  “No, I mean—why weren’t you the first test? Why didn’t you try your IK capsules yourself?”

  There was a long silence.

  Finally, Farooqi sighed and answered Jake’s question.

  “Because I was afraid. You, on the other hand? You are very, very brave, Jake McQuade.”

  “No. I was just very, very hungry.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to go. My brother-in-law is here with his van. I’ll talk to you again once my new laboratory is up and running. Goodbye, Subject One. And remember your promise: don’t tell anyone of my involvement in this matter until I’m able to re-create the results.”

  Farooqi hung up.

  Jake flopped back onto his bed.

  He stared up at the bumpy ceiling and knew the new truth.

  There was no returning to the Jake McQuade he used to be.

  There was no antidote.

  There never would be.

  His life was a one-way street.

  He could look back.

  But he could never go back.

  Since he was suspended from school for a week, Jake spent Monday morning alone in his room, studying the treasure map image on his phone, trying to learn Spanish from online videos.

  If he was permanently cursed with superintelligence, he should probably use it to do something. Like help Emma with her homework.

  “Hola, soy Lucía,” said the nice lady on the computer screen. “Mucho gusto. Hi, I’m Lucía. Nice to meet you.”

  Lucía went on for a few hours. By the time she was done, Jake was surprised by how much he’d learned and retained—and not just how to find the bathroom or order an enchilada.

  Emma, of course, had gone to school. Jake’s mom was still home because she was working an event that night at the hotel. Tomorrow, Tuesday, she’d have to work a double shift.

  “The State Quiz Bowl is still on for nine a.m. Wednesday,” she’d told Jake when he had his breakfast of oatmeal (because it looked the most like the gruel they served in prisons and he sure felt like he was in prison). “You can’t compete, of course. And they had to write all new questions with all new answers.”

  Around one o’clock in the afternoon, as Jake learned even more Spanish (the jelly beans had definitely increased his ability to learn more quickly), his mom knocked on his door.

  “Jake? Kojo’s here. He brought, uh, friends.”

  “Deputy Assistant Director Don Struchen, FBI,” said a familiar voice.

  “Special Agent Patrick Andrus,” said another.

  “Special Agent Sydney Tillman,” said a third.

  “Open this door,” said Struchen. “We’re here to investigate the crime scene.”

  Stunned, Jake opened the door. Kojo was standing on the other side with the three FBI agents. He was smiling with a white Tootsie Pop stick jutting out of the corner of his mouth. “Who loves ya, baby?”

  “Uh, hi, Kojo. Hi, everybody. Qué bueno verles de nuevo. Great to see you again.”

  “Oh, you’ve been studying your Spanish?” said Kojo.

  “Yeah,” said Jake. “Doing it old-school.”

  “Good for you,” said Kojo. “And you were right. When you said I should learn how to do some CSI stuff for real. I figured I could, if I had a teacher. Nobody really learns anything all by themselves.”

  “Your friend called us first thing this morning,” explained the deputy assistant director, Mr. Struchen. “We owe you, Jake. Both of the Shaffer brothers are now behind bars for that bank robbery in California thanks to your brilliant work.”

  “Now, if you will please step out of the room,” said Agent Tillman. She was toting a very large evidence-gathering kit. “We have work to do.”

  “Mr. Shelton?” said Agent Andrus. He had a laptop computer in a rugged military-style carrying case. “Would you care to observe?”

  “Definitely!” said Kojo.

  “What’s your Wi-Fi password?” asked Andrus.

  “Jellybeans,” said Jake. “Lowercase. No space.”

  Jake and his mom waited in the living room while the three FBI agents and Kojo went to work. Two hours later, they emerged from the bedroom and started peeling off their sterile evidence-gathering gloves.

  “Ms. McQuade?” said the deputy assistant director. “Your son was framed.”

  “Yes!” said Jake, doing a triumphant arm pump.

  “We were able to lift some solid fingerprints off the windowsill and the Xbox console.”

  “We ran the fingerprints through our database,” said Special Agent Andrus, tapping his computer case. “We have a match.”

  Special Agent Tillman took up the narration. “One Eriq LeVisqueux. Seems like a strange crime for him to add to his rap sheet. LeVisqueux is a notorious international jewel thief and treasure hunter. The kind who would steal artifacts out of a sacred tomb and then sell them to the highest bidder.”

  “What was he doing here?” asked Jake’s mom. “I don’t have any valuable jewelry….”

  “We suspect that someone hired him, ma’am,” said Agent Andrus.

  “Jewel thieves, or second-story men as they are sometimes called, are good at climbing up fire escapes and crawling through partially open windows,” added Agent Tillman.

  “Someone hired LeVisqueux because they wanted your son out of the Quiz Bowl competition, Ms. McQuade,” said Mr. Struchen. “Kojo here suspects one Patricia Malvolio. Apparently, she gave Monsieur LeVisqueux the distraction needed to draw the kids out of the bedroom.”

  “The school’s principal?” said J
ake’s mom. “Why would she do a thing like that?”

  “Because she wants the city to tear down our building and sell the land,” said Jake. “She and her greedy uncle want the Riverview property for a luxury condominium complex.”

  “I need to make a few calls,” said Mr. Struchen, pulling out his phone. “We’ll advise the local police to be on the lookout for LeVisqueux. He should be considered armed and dangerous. Tillman? Andrus?”

  “Sir?” they said at the same time.

  “I need you two to stay up here. Coordinate with the locals. LeVisqueux is wanted in fourteen states. His capture remains a federal matter.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Ms. McQuade?” Struchen continued. “One final thing. Mr. Shelton here has requested that we call Dr. Lopez, the district superintendent, to advise her of our findings. With any luck, Jake will be going back to school tomorrow.”

  “And the day after that?” said Kojo, draping his arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Me and Jake are back in the Quiz Bowl, baby!”

  “Jake and I,” Jake whispered.

  “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. We’re back in the game!”

  They were also back in the hunt.

  The treasure hunt!

  Because their mom had to work an event at the hotel, Jake and Emma ordered pizza for dinner.

  Kojo and Grace came over to join them.

  “Perdón por todas las cosas malas que dije,” said Grace.

  “No te apures,” replied Jake. “Creo que yo hubiera dicho lo mismo.”

  “What?” said Grace. “You speak Spanish now.”

  “Little bit. And what you said wasn’t all that mean.”

  “Did your friend Farooqi give you another smart jelly bean?”

  “Who’s Farooqi?” said Emma. “And what’s this about jelly beans?”

  “¡Nada!” said Jake. “I just spent the morning learning Spanish. On the computer.”

  “You spent the morning?” said Emma. “One morning? I’ve been going to a Spanish-immersion school for four years!”

  “El programa es muy bueno,” said Jake, and everybody laughed. Except Kojo.

  “What? What’d he say?”

  “That it was a very good computer program,” said Emma with a giggle.

  “So good,” said Jake, “I should be able to help you the next time you have a problem with your Spanish homework, Emma.”

  “¡Fantástico!”

  “Anyway,” said Grace, “I apologize, Jake. I said some mean things. And I put way too much pressure on you. There’s nothing you could do to save the whole school by yourself. No great thing was ever accomplished without help.”

  “A very wise observation,” said Jake. “Consider: Would we even know who Shakespeare was if a whole troupe of performers and stagecraft people hadn’t helped him put on his plays?”

  “Jake?” said Kojo. “Ease up, baby. You’re getting all professorial on us again.”

  “Sorry.”

  After dinner, Jake, Kojo, and Grace reconvened in Jake’s bedroom.

  “I don’t care how hot it gets,” said Kojo. “Tonight we are leaving that window closed and locked.”

  “That was smart of you to call the FBI, Kojo,” said Grace.

  Kojo nodded and took in a chest-ballooning breath. “Yep. It’s like you said. No great thing is ever done solo. Sometimes we have to bump these things up to the next level. The feds have more resources than I do.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” said Jake. “It’s not a coincidence that the guy who broke in here, Monsieur Eriq LeVisqueux, is a notorious jewel thief and treasure hunter. I’m guessing he’ll be the guy Huxley hires to go down into the caves to find the pirate treasure.”

  “But,” said Grace, “he doesn’t have the cabin boy’s clue!”

  “Or,” said Kojo, “that treasure map we drew up.”

  “It’s not a great map,” said Jake, sounding frustrated. “I’ve been staring at it all day, in between Spanish lessons. How do we find ‘X’ if the location of the fire pit remains unknown? The whole puzzle starts with the fire pit….”

  “You guys want dessert?” Emma came into the room with a stack of bowls, a half gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, and a scooper. “Huh. What’re you working on?”

  “No es nada,” said Jake, covering up the word treasure on his graph paper with a rubber eraser.

  “It looks like a geometry problem,” said Emma. “Aren’t you guys supposed to learn geometry in middle school?”

  “Of course!” said Jake. “Emma? ¡Eres la mejor hermana del mundo!”

  Emma smiled. “Gracias. You’re a pretty good big brother, too.”

  “What’s going on?” said Kojo as Emma scooped out the ice cream. “Are you having a brainstorm or do you just really, really like chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream?”

  “Brainstorm,” said Jake. “You guys are right. We can’t do this alone. We need help. We need Mr. Keeney!”

  Early Tuesday morning, before the first bell rang, Jake headed to homeroom.

  Mr. Keeney was already at his desk, reading another paperback science fiction book.

  “Mr. Keeney?” said Jake after rapping his knuckles on the doorjamb. “Hate to bother you…”

  “That’s okay, Jake,” he said, closing his book. “The forces around the Outer Rim territories have come together to fight the Yuuzhan Vong. Luke Skywalker should show up soon. Great to have you back with us.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So jewel thieves broke into your apartment?”

  “That’s what the FBI says.”

  “That is so awesome. How can I help you?”

  “I have this geometry problem.”

  “You do? When I was your age, all I had was a girl problem.”

  “Yeah. I might have one of those, too. Here’s the math problem.”

  Jake spread out his graph paper on the teacher’s desk. He’d redone it without the word treasure written over the X or any of the other notations.

  “Oooh,” said Mr. Keeney, rubbing his hands together. “Fascinating. What do we know about the relationship between all these points?”

  Jake recited the clues, editing out words like stone pillars, fire pit, and pirate’s treasure—keeping it all very geometry-ish, with points and angles and lines.

  “What do you know about imaginary numbers, plane geometry, and vector algebra, Jake?”

  “Not enough, sir.”

  Mr. Keeney blasted off like one of the rocket ships in his Star Wars novels. “You don’t need to know where ‘C,’ ‘D,’ or ‘E’ is to find ‘T.’ ”

  By the time the first bell rang, Mr. Keeney had moved on to “Since we know the sides of our triangle are equal lengths, we can factor the isosceles equality of the vectors.” As kids came into homeroom, they joined Jake behind Mr. Keeney’s desk so they could watch the math whiz at work.

  Just like he had with his internet Spanish lessons, Jake caught on pretty quickly to what Mr. Keeney was saying. After a few minutes, he was able to understand strange new concepts. The jelly bean–lubricated synapses in his brain were soaking it all in. Jake started adding in vectors and angles and working the equations along with Mr. Keeney.

  “Multiplying by i turns the vector ninety degrees to the left and does not change the length,” Jake said.

  “Precisely!” said Mr. Keeney, rolling up his sleeves. “You remind me of a young me, Jake!”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Hmm, I don’t know if you should thank me. Being a math nerd led to those girl problems I told you about.”

  “Things are different now, sir. Nerds rock.”

  Ten minutes and lots of complicated formulae and triangles and vectors and a few multiplications by pi later, they had found X (which Jake had also labeled
T for treasure)—without having to worry about where the fire pit (C) was.

  When the problem was solved, Mr. Keeney stood up behind his desk, clutching his pencil in his hand as if it were a microphone.

  “If you use imaginary numbers, you don’t need to know where ‘C’ is to find ‘T.’ All you need are ‘A’ and ‘B.’ And that, my friends,” he said to the room full of fascinated students, “is how we bring the geometry! Boo-yah!”

  He opened his hand and the pencil dropped to the floor.

  Everybody cheered.

  Jake was cheering the loudest.

  Because his map was complete. If Mr. Keeney could find T without knowing where C was, so could Jake.

  He could find the treasure without the fire pit!

  He’d just have to bring his mad new math skills with him into the cave.

  Mrs. Malvolio stepped out of her office when she saw Jake McQuade, Kojo Shelton, and Grace Garcia walking toward the exit.

  She blocked their path.

  “No after-school activities for you three today?” she asked with one of her lipstick-crinkling smiles.

  “No,” said Kojo, answering for the group. “We’re just gonna head home and chillax. Big morning tomorrow. The Quiz Bowl starts at nine o’clock sharp.”

  “We probably won’t be wearing those shirts you dropped off at my apartment the other night,” said Jake. “You know, the night the thief broke into my bedroom during the exact same time you were with us in the living room.”

  “I heard about that!” said Mrs. Malvolio. “What an odd coincidence.”

  “You can say that again,” said Kojo.

  Mrs. Malvolio almost did. But then she caught herself.

  “Almost as odd as Grace getting sick right after she ate your brownies,” added Jake.

  “Yes, I’ve been wondering about that, too,” said Mrs. Malvolio, placing a hand over her heart. “It’s almost as if someone tainted my brownies when I wasn’t looking.”