Revenge of the Beetle Queen

by M. G. Leonard

  “You go way back there, to the far edge of the rooftop, and I’ll stand here.” He rooted his feet against the stumpy wall that kept them from the extreme edge of the roof. “Run as fast as you can toward me and jump, as if you were going to leap across the gap, and as you jump, I’ll grab you and fling you.”

  Pickering’s eyebrows lifted so high they touched his thatch of hair.

  “No other way to get over there,” Humphrey said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

  “You’ll throw me as hard as you can. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay.” Pickering trudged off to the other side of the roof. When he got there he squatted down in a sprint start position, his bum in the air and fists on the tarmac.

  “Wait!” Humphrey stopped him. “Tuck your skirt into your underwear. We don’t want it getting in the way.”

  Standing up straight, Pickering gathered up the long flowery skirt and stuffed it in his drawers.

  “On three,” he called out, squatting back down. “One, two, three.” And suddenly he was dashing toward Humphrey.

  Bending his knees, Humphrey held his hands out, ready.

  As Pickering’s feet hit the floor to make the jump he let out an almighty shriek. “NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

  “ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!” Humphrey roared as he hurled Pickering forward as hard as he could, flinging himself backward immediately after letting go, to stop from falling over the edge of the building. As his buttocks hit the floor he wondered if he’d just missed a good opportunity to get rid of his annoying cousin once and for all.

  He propped himself up on his bulbous elbows and looked to see if Pickering had made it to the other side. There was no sign of him. He peered down into the alley between the two buildings. There was no splattered Pickering on the ground.

  As Humphrey got to his feet, he saw his cousin lying flat on the theatre roof, blood streaming from his beaky nose. It was broken and pointing left, rather than straight down. As Pickering slowly sat up, Humphrey gave a belly-gurgle of a laugh. It had worked!

  “Oi, Pickers!” he shouted.

  Pickering looked at him and blinked, blood streaming down his chin.

  Humphrey pointed. “Get the chain.”

  Gingerly getting to his feet, Pickering stumbled forward, worked loose a broken brick from the base of a chimney and carried it to the iron post that the chain was welded to. He smashed at it till the chain broke away. Humphrey kept an eye on the butler, but he hadn’t noticed them. Pickering unthreaded the long chain from the post, and then he carried it in his arms back to the chimney, looped it around, and tied it in a knot. Then he threw the loose end to Humphrey.

  Humphrey tugged on the chain to make sure it would take his weight, and then, before he had a chance to change his mind, he wrapped it around his wrist several times and ran at the roof edge, leaping as far as he could, grabbing up the chain as he began to fall and swinging himself forward. He hit the theatre wall hard, and dropped down a couple of feet. But the chain held firm, and hand over hand, he pulled himself up onto the theatre roof.

  Once he’d got his elbows over the lip of the building, Pickering leaned over and grabbed at his belt loops, helping to heave him over.

  Humphrey lay on his back, panting. His heart was beating faster than it ever had before.

  “The butler’s getting out of the helicopter!” Pickering hissed, dropping down onto his belly beside Humphrey. “He’s going to that door—it must lead into the theatre.” His eyes lit up as he looked down at Humphrey. “We should follow him.”

  They heard a commotion on the street below. Humphrey peered over the edge of the building, still waiting for his heart to stop hopping about inside his ribs. There were people screaming and running out of the theatre.

  “Something’s happening in there.”

  “Let’s go inside and find out what it is.” Pickering jumped up.

  “No!” Humphrey shook his head. “Think about it, dummy.” He pointed at the helicopter. “That’s how Lucretia Cutter is leaving the building.” He grinned at his cousin. “So we don’t want to go into the theatre. We want to get onto that helicopter, with her.”

  “That’s a good idea!” Pickering marveled. “I wonder where it’s going?”

  “Probably to one of her swanky houses on a private island with coconut trees and swimming pools,” Humphrey replied.

  The cousins scrambled to their feet and dashed over to the helicopter.

  “There’s nowhere to hide!” Pickering exclaimed, looking into the cabin. He was right. If they got in, they’d be spotted and chucked out immediately.

  “Do helicopters have luggage compartments?” Humphrey wondered.

  “Here!” Pickering squealed, opening a hatch door. “It’s full of bags.”

  “Quick, pull them out. I’ll chuck them over the edge.”

  Pickering emptied the luggage compartment and scrambled in, while Humphrey dumped all Lucretia Cutter’s bags over the side of the building.

  “Move up,” Humphrey said. He crawled in backward on all fours so he could shut the door.

  “Ouch! There isn’t enough room. You’re too fat.”

  “Shut up.” Humphrey pushed backward, and with a wrench slammed the door shut. He heard his cousin whimper. “What’s the matter?” he hissed.

  “Your bottom is wedged against my face,” Pickering said unhappily. “You’d better not fart.”

  “Shhhh.” Humphrey cocked his head. “I can hear someone coming. Just think, when we get out, we’ll be in paradise.”

  “Alone with Lucretia Cutter,” Pickering cooed.

  Darkus followed Uncle Max down the hospital corridor. There were Christmas decorations hanging from the white ceiling, and as he passed by windows into wards, he realized that there were a lot of people who didn’t get to spend Christmas with their family. It wasn’t just him.

  “Here we are,” Uncle Max announced, opening a door and marching through it.

  Sitting up in bed, drinking green tea, was Professor Andrew Appleyard.

  “A very merry Christmas to you, Andrew,” Uncle Max boomed, sitting down on the chair beside the bed.

  Darkus shuffled shyly to his side. “Happy Christmas, Professor Appleyard.”

  “And a merry Christmas to you both.” Professor Appleyard lifted his tea. “May your life cycle be longer than a mayfly’s.” He chuckled.

  “I brought you a present,” Darkus said, offering the brightly wrapped box he was nervously clutching.

  “I’m too old for presents,” Professor Appleyard protested. “You didn’t need to go and do that.”

  “I wanted to,” Darkus said.

  The professor put down his tea and delicately unwrapped the present. When they’d got back from America, Uncle Max had called the hospital to check on Professor Appleyard’s condition, and been told that he’d come out of his coma the day before the Film Awards and seemed to be making a full and speedy recovery. Darkus was relieved, but he still felt responsible for Professor Appleyard ending up in the hospital in the first place.

  “Are you all better now?” he asked.

  “I think so,” the professor replied. “It would seem I was bitten by a venomous insect, which is peculiar because the venom they found in my system appears to have been from a black widow spider, but the only insect I saw before I passed out was a yellow ladybug, and black widows are not native to this country.” He shook his head. “Luckily I’ve been bitten by a black widow before, and I appear to have built up some immunity.”

  “You’ve been bitten by a black widow?”

  “Oh, it was my fault entirely, I scared the poor thing by accident. Black widows are not aggresive,” he said, pulling the paper off his present. “Oh, Darkus, how wonderful! Chocolate-covered crickets. What a treat. Thank you.”

  “The ladybug was Lucretia Cutter’s,” Darkus said. “We’ve been studying them. The ones with eleven spots are deadly.”

  “Really? How interesting. I’d love to see y
our work.” Professor Appleyard rubbed his eyes. “I must have angered Lucy when I asked the global entomology network to call for citizen invasion monitoring, getting people to keep an eye out for her Frankenstein beetles.”

  “I thought it was my fault,” Darkus said.

  “What? Why would you think such a thing?”

  “I led the ladybugs to you,” Darkus admitted.

  “Dear boy, no. I have been worrying about Lucy Johnstone ever since the Fabre Project closed down. You aren’t the only one fighting her, you know.”

  Darkus beamed. “That is good to know.”

  “I’ve checked with the doctors,” Uncle Max said. “They’re happy to discharge you, if you want to go home.”

  “I would love to go home.” Professor Appleyard smiled. “I need to feed my arthropods.”

  “Then we’ll take you. I’ve got the car in the parking lot.”

  “We’re going to have Christmas dinner at Virginia’s,” Darkus said, “and you’re invited, too. There won’t be any bugs to eat, but if you want to come, we can tell you all about Lucretia Cutter.”

  Professor Appleyard had already thrown back his blanket and was slipping his feet into his shoes. “That sounds wonderful, Darkus. I want to hear all about it. I watched the Film Awards on the television.” He pointed up to a screen bolted to the wall. “I’ve never seen such madness.”

  Darkus reached up and rang the doorbell.

  “Happy Christmas!” Virginia yelled as she yanked the door open. “Where are your uncle and the professor?”

  “They’re coming. The professor’s got a wheelchair until his strength comes back,” Darkus said, following Virginia into the Wallace house. “But he’s fine.”

  Serena, Virginia’s older sister, was sitting on the stairs talking into her mobile phone, looking bored and picking the nail polish off her neon-yellow fingernails. Virginia led Darkus into the living room. David, her oldest brother, sat in a big armchair, headphones on, eyes glued to a game console. He grunted at them as they entered the room.

  “That’s David’s version of ‘Happy Christmas,’ ” Virginia said.

  There was a thundering sound as Sean ran down the stairs, bursting into the room behind them. “Did you bring the rhinoceros beetle?” he asked.

  “Where are your manners?” Barbara Wallace waddled in, flicking a tea towel at David. “Offer Darkus your seat, David—he’s all alone, with no parents to spend this Christmas Day with.”

  “I wish I had no parents,” David muttered.

  “I heard that.”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Wallace,” Darkus said as Keisha and Darnell chased each other in and out of the room, shrieking.

  “What can I get you to drink, Darkus? Would you like a mince pie?”

  The doorbell rang and Virginia sprinted out of the room.

  “An orange juice would be lovely,” Darkus replied. “Thank you.”

  It was Bertolt and his mum, followed by Mrs. Crips carrying a Christmas cake.

  “Merry Christmas,” Bertolt said, with a wide smile.

  “Come in, everyone!” Virginia shouted as they all piled into the living room.

  “Thanks for inviting Mrs. Crips,” Bertolt whispered to Virginia.

  “Of course!” Virginia smiled. “No one should be alone on Christmas Day.”

  Sean came in with a dinner plate of chopped-up bananas, melon, and sweet potato. “I’ve brought a snack for the beetles,” he announced, setting the plate down on the coffee table beside the Christmas newspapers. The beetles didn’t need telling twice. Baxter and Marvin flew down to the plate and began eating. Baxter climbed onto the banana and Marvin hugged the sweet potato.

  “Newton doesn’t eat much,” Bertolt explained apologetically.

  “So cool.” Sean stared at them in wonder.

  Uncle Max wheeled Professor Appleyard’s chair in, and it had a bag full of presents hanging off the back, which he placed under the Christmas tree. The three mothers, Mrs. Wallace, Mrs. Crips, and Miss Bloom, sat together on the sofa with glasses of sherry, discussing the newspapers on the coffee table. The front pages were covered in pictures from the Film Awards, mostly of the naked, screaming Ruby Hisolo Jr.

  Stories reported that Lucretia Cutter had gone crazy, designing live beetle dresses, and that Novak Cutter was a dreadful actress who should never have even been nominated for an award.

  “I don’t understand.” Bertolt picked up the Daily News. “Why is no one talking about the millions of beetles Lucretia Cutter has released into the ecosystem in a bid to take over the world?” He shook his head.

  “Because a story about a naked film star sells more papers,” Barbara Wallace replied, and the mothers nodded.

  “But her beetles are out there, wreaking havoc,” Uncle Max said. He pointed to a story on page five. “Look. There’s a story here about ruined wheat crops in Texas. America’s declared a state of national emergency.”

  “So what do we do now?” Virginia asked.

  “First week of January,” Darkus said, “there’s the International Congress of Entomology in Prague. Uncle Max is going to take me, and Dr. Yuki Ishikawa’s coming, too. He saw the Film Awards.”

  “He is?” Bertolt smiled. “Oh good.”

  “Me too,” Professor Appleyard said. “It’ll take more than black widow spider venom to stop me from going to that conference.”

  “Darkus has an extraordinary collection of beetles to show our fellow scientists,” Uncle Max said proudly, “and a story they all need to hear.”

  “You up for that, Baxter?” Darkus grinned, and Baxter flew to his shoulder, nuzzling his head against the boy’s neck.

  “After Prague,” Uncle Max said, “Motty and I will be leading a rescue mission to the Amazon. We’re going to find Barty, Spencer, and Novak and bring them home—and, while we’re at it, do a bit of giant insect hunting.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “YES!” Virginia leapt to her feet and punched the air. “Another adventure.”

  “Hush now. Sit down, Virginia,” Barbara Wallace said. “I’ve had enough talk of adventure.”

  Bertolt got to his feet. “I don’t like adventures. Not one bit.” He turned to his mum. “But I have to help Novak. She needs us.”

  “Oh c’mon, Mum!” Virginia protested. “You saw Lucretia Cutter on TV. Imagine what she’s going to do to Novak for helping us. You’ve got to let me go.”

  The flickering firefly and the cherry-red frog-legged leaf beetle rose into the air, hovering above their humans’ heads.

  “Today is Christmas Day.” Barbara Wallace held up her hands. “Why don’t you children each open a present?” She gestured to the mound of gifts under the tree. “How about that red one, Virginia? That’s for you. Bertolt, Darkus, yours are the ones with stars on them.”

  Sulkily, Virginia got down on her knees and pulled out the red present from under the stack of gifts stuffed under the heavily decorated tree. She handed Bertolt and Darkus their presents and looked at her mum for permission to open hers. Barbara Wallace nodded, and Virginia halfheartedly ripped off the paper, pulling out a pair of camo trousers and a small bag, in camo fabric, stuffed full of things.

  “Oh wow!” She unzipped the bag, emptying onto the floor a compass, a Swiss Army Knife, a mosquito net, a set of waterproof matches, a tiny first aid kit, a reel of string, and water purification tablets. She looked up at her mum. “This is amazing!”

  Darkus and Bertolt ripped open their presents to find they each had a small camo bag stuffed with the same things.

  “Well, I thought they would be useful,” Barbara Wallace said, “if you’re going to the Amazon jungle.”

  “You’re going to let me go?” Virginia jumped to her feet, flying at her mother, arms wide. She hugged her tightly.

  “The compass is so you can always find your way home,” Barbara Wallace said, stroking Virginia’s head.

  “Oh, thank you, Mum, thank you, thank you.” Virginia kissed her mother’s forehead and cheeks.
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br />   Bertolt turned to his mother, and she nodded. “I saw that Lucretia woman with my own eyes. She needs to be stopped.” Calista Bloom smiled proudly. “And I think you’ll do better if I don’t come this time.”

  “The Amazon!” he whispered breathlessly, looking at Darkus.

  Darkus nodded. “It’s time someone stood up to Lucretia Cutter and made her realize this world does not belong to her.”

  ABDOMEN: The part of the body behind the thorax (human abdomens are usually referred to as the tummy or the belly). It is the largest of the three body segments of an insect (the other parts being the head and the thorax).

  ANTENNAE (SINGULAR: ANTENNA): A pair of sensory appendages on the head, sometimes called feelers. They are used to sense many things, including odor, taste, heat, wind speed, and direction.

  ARTHROPOD: Means jointed leg and refers to a group of animals that includes insects (known as hexapods), crustaceans, myriapods (millipedes and centipedes), and chelicerates (spiders, scorpions, horseshoe crabs, and their relatives). Arthropod bodies are usually in segments, and all arthropods have an exoskeleton and are invertebrates.

  BEETLE: One type (or order) of insect with the front pair of wing cases modified into hardened elytra. There are more different species of beetle than any other animal on the planet.

  CHITIN: The material that makes up the exoskeletons of most arthropods, including insects. Chitin is one of the most important substances in nature.

  COLEOPTERA: The scientific name for beetles.

  COLEOPTERIST: A scientist who studies beetles.

  COMPOUND EYES: Can be made up of thousands of individual visual receptors, and are common in arthropods. They enable many arthropods to see very well, but they see the world as a pixelated image—like the pixels on a computer screen.

  DNA (DEOXYRIBONUCLEIC ACID): The blueprint for almost every living creature. It is the molecule that carries genetic information. A length of DNA is called a gene.

  DOUBLE HELIX: The shape that DNA forms when the individual components of DNA join together. It looks like a twisted ladder.

  ELYTRA (SINGULAR: ELYTRON): The hardened forewings of beetles that serve as protective wing cases for the delicate, membranous hind wings underneath, which are used for flying. Some beetles can’t fly; their elytra are fused together and they don’t have hind wings.