Sci-Fi Junior High

by Scott Seegert

  When first hour ends, I meet up with Spotch on our way to Professor Plutz’s galactic geography class.

  “Whoa, Kelv. What did you do—stick half your head in a shuttle engine?”

  I haven’t known Spotch for long, but I’m getting the feeling he speaks his mind. No sugarcoating with old Spotcho.

  “Nah, I didn’t have time to use any hair gel this morning. Hey, you wouldn’t have any on you, would you?”

  “Nope. I have some antenna gel, but it would probably just make your hair fall out. Which, come to think of it, might be an improvement.”

  Now, that may be Spotch’s idea of a joke or just a factual statement. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

  We make our way into the classroom and grab the last two open desks, way in the back. My chair has a backpack sitting in it. A blue tentacle reaches across from the next desk over and snatches the backpack.

  “Sorry about that, Kelvin,” the tentacle’s owner says. He has three other tentacles, too, but they’re all busy at the moment, writing and turning notebook pages and scratching what I guess must be his nose.

  “Didn’t know you wanted to sit here, pal,” Tentacles continues. “Hey, maybe we could be homework buddies, huh? I’d even let you do most of the work! I know you smart guys like to do most of the work! What do you say?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I answer, knowing full well I won’t. It’s amazing how popular a genius becomes when homework is due.

  Professor Plutz calls Gil up to the front of the classroom and activates a holographic map of the galaxy.

  “Mr. Lagoonie. Please point out to the class where our fine school is located within the Milky Way galaxy.”

  Poor Gil. He clearly has no idea where we are on that map, and he’s starting to panic. I can’t watch anymore, so I let my eyes wander. And they just happen to wander a couple rows over.

  “So, what’s up with Luna?”

  “Luna? Let me guess. You think she’s cute.”

  “Well… yeah. I mean, she is pretty awesome. She almost seems to have a glow about her.”

  “She does have a glow about her. Everybody from her planet does. Something about bioluminescence.”

  Gil looks like he’s really sweating it out up there, although it’s hard to tell, since he’s in a water-filled sphere. He’s pointing all over the place on the map, and Professor Plutz keeps shaking his head no. It’s as if Gil is continually pushing the head-shake button on a Professor Plutz remote control. I sure am glad it’s not me up there.

  “You may take your seat, Mr. Lagoonie. Mr. Klosmo, why don’t you give it a try.”

  What? Yikes! I don’t know anything about galactic geography. And I definitely have no idea where we are on that map. The only reason I even know it’s the Milky Way is because Plutz said it is. Gil is going to look like Copernicus navigating that thing compared with me.

  I’ve seen it happen a lot at other schools. A new kid shows up and gets labeled by the other kids right away. And it usually sticks. If he’s lucky, it will be something like the cool kid. Or the funny kid. Or the smart kid. If he’s not so lucky, it could be the weirdo. Or the dummy. Or the slob. And once you get a label, it’s really tough to get rid of.

  I was lucky. I arrived with a reputation of being a genius right off the bat. But it’s one thing to be called a genius because you actually are one. It’s another thing altogether if it’s because you’re the exact opposite—if it’s because the kids think you’re actually a doofus. It’s like calling a short kid Paul Bunyan. Or a slow kid Speedy Gonzales. Sarcasm is big in junior high. As of right now I’m still the smart genius to these guys. But the way things are going, it won’t be long before I’m the other one. And then who will want to hang out with me?

  I get up and head toward the front of the class. Slowly. As in two-inch steps. Maybe if I take long enough, my Mighty Mega Supergeniusness will kick in by the time I get up there. Or maybe the bell will ring.

  It’s no use. Everybody is staring at me. Luna is looking at me like I’ve got a porcupine stapled to my head. I make my way to the map, at regular speed, and prepare to begin my life as a doofus genius. Mom and Dad will be so proud.

  “I must say, Mr. Klosmo, that it certainly is an honor to have you in our class! There aren’t many teachers who can say they’ve had the pleasure of teaching the smartest student in the galaxy.”

  Here we go again.…

  “This must seem like such a simple question for you. Perhaps we could make it a bit more challenging by having you close your eyes first?”

  Oh, sure. Why the heck not? Maybe I could stand on my head and juggle penguins with my feet at the same time, too. It’s not like any of that is going to make a difference. The jig is up. Nothing can save me from embarrassing myself this time—

  Chapter 19

  What the heck is that?” I yell to Spotch over the noise.

  “Fire drill,” he says. Fire drill? Awesome! It looks like my secret is safe, at least for another hour. “Or maybe an actual fire,” he adds. “Who knows?”

  A real fire? That could be bad. I could be seriously hurt. I could even die. We all could. But to be honest, the whole secret-being-safe thing has me pretty pumped right now.

  “Okay,” Professor Plutz shouts to the class. “You know the drill. Exit the classroom calmly and in single file, and head straight to your lockers. And keep your hands to yourselves. I’m looking at you, Marvin!”

  I’ve never been through a fire drill in space before, so I stick close to Spotch as we head to our lockers. Once we get there, we put on our helmets, and Spotch attaches a cable hanging from his locker to his belt.

  “What the heck is this thing for?”

  “Attach it to your belt, so when they open the air lock, you’re not sucked out into space.”

  “Oh.”

  “If there’s a real fire, they’ll open the nearest air lock and suck out all the oxygen until the fire goes out. That’s why we have to wear our helmets and strap in.”

  “Do you think this is a real fire?”

  “If it is, we’re going to need a new principal.”

  Spotch points behind me. A helmetless Principal Ort is slithering down the hallway toward us.

  “You were all too slow getting secured to your lockers. TOO slow! DANGEROUSLY slow! I-OBVIOUSLY-DON’T-CARE-IF-I-GET-SUCKED-OUT-INTO-SPACE-OR-BURNED-TO-A-CRISP slow! If this were an actual fire, there is no telling how many of you would be floating around outside the school right now. We need to improve on this.

  “Also, this was most definitely NOT a scheduled fire drill. Someone pulled the alarm. And when I find out who the culprit is, he or she will be in big trouble. BIG trouble! MAJOR trouble! YOU-DON’T-EVEN-WANT-TO-THINK-ABOUT-IT trouble!”

  Ort slithers back down the corridor, leaving a trail of slime behind. So, no real fire. That’s a relief. Plus, we got to leave class before I had to answer that question, so at least I didn’t look like a doofus in front of everybody.

  Until now, that is.

  Chapter 20

  On the bright side, it took Spotch and Mippitt only nine minutes to pull me out of my helmet this time. Of course, that still made me late for lunch. Which also made me late for science class after lunch. Fortunately, Mr. Jeddee doesn’t have triple-gravity boots to punish me with, so I just walk in and sit down at my group table. Mr. Jeddee doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m late. I have a feeling somebody told him what happened.

  “What’s wrong with Grimnee?”

  “She heard about what Dorn did to you. Grimnee doesn’t like bullies.”

  “Who does?”

  “No. I mean Grimnee really doesn’t like bullies. She got teased a lot back on her home planet for being so skinny.”

  “So… skinny?”

  “Yeah. Remember, on her planet the gravity is so high that everybody has to be pretty thick and muscular just to move around.”

  “It also means she doesn’t know her own strength in the lighter gravity we have
out here.”

  Note to self—never make fun of anyone around Grimnee.

  “I have graded your short science essays from last week. Overall, I am quite pleased, although some of you need to show a bit more consistency in your work.”

  Mr. Jeddee hands the papers back. I wasn’t here last week, so I didn’t have to write one. And the way things are going, that’s probably just as well. Everyone in the group looks pretty pleased with their grades… except Brian. “What’s up?” I ask. “Didn’t do as well as you thought?” He hands me his paper.

  “Also, I am handing out your group science projects today. I’m sure you all remember the large robot we saw during our field trip yesterday.”

  “Huh? Robot? Field trip?”

  “Each group will be assigned a system on the robot, such as navigation or communication. You will write a detailed overview of that system and present it to the class.”

  Mr. Jeddee walks around the room, handing out the project assignments. Our group gets propulsion. Rand-El taps me on the shoulder. “Hey, Kelvin. I know you’re a genius and all, and you probably want to do this whole thing yourself to get a good grade, but can you let the rest of us do our share, too? I’m actually really interested in propulsion systems. In fact, that’s why I started the rocket club.”

  “Oh… absolutely!” I tell him. I don’t tell him he can feel free to do my share, too. But he can. “In fact, you guys can take the lead and do most of the work. I can just sort of look things over as we go, if you want. You know, to make sure you’re doing it right.” Man, this is a perfect setup. I was born to be a supervisor.

  “Actually, you can do more than that. The robot is in your mom and dad’s lab, right?”

  I don’t know if I like where Rand-El is going with this.

  “Maybe you could sneak us all in one night to get a good look at that robot when nobody is around.”

  Yup. There it is.

  “Yeah! Come on, Kelvin,” the rest of the gang joins in. Except Mippitt. He never talks.

  “Well… uh… I don’t know,” I tell them. “How am I supposed to get us in there?”

  Rand-El looks at me like I’m nuts. “How? Come on, Kelvin. You’ll figure something out. I mean, you are the smartest kid in the galaxy. Right?”

  Chapter 21

  “Well, this was certainly a wonderful way to waste the entire evening. I don’t know how you put up with it day after day, Mr. Nosebutton. By the way—why did she give you such a ridiculous name?”

  “Oh. I see. Bah. None of this matters anyway. Very soon these silly tea party games will be a thing of the past, and I, Erik Failenheimer, will RULE THE UNIVERSE! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! What do you think of that, Miss Hairzybearzy?”

  “Not impressed, I see. Well, I’ll have you know that I have devised a new plan to steal the ultrapowerful Zorb, since my original plan to transfer my brilliant mind into the body of a robot hit a few snags.”

  “You find that amusing do you, Mrs. Fuzzface? It’s not a big deal, really. I don’t even need my mind in the robot. You see, although no living being can go anywhere near that Zorb without turning into a puddle of goo, my new body has no such restrictions!”

  “Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Nosebutton. There are a few advantages to being made of cotton and polyester. And taking the Zorb from that secret planetoid is one of them.”

  “What’s that, Miss Hairzybearzy? If it’s a secret planetoid, how will I find it? No need to worry. I have a plan for that as well. And I intend to get started on it immediately. But first…”

  Ah, now that felt good! It turns out this being-evil thing is right up my alley. I should have thought of it years ago. And this little tea party turmoil is just a small sampling of what I have in store for the rest of this pathetic universe! But first I need the key card to Klosmo’s lab so I can hack into his computer. I saw him put it down on the table by the front door.

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Ugh. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I guess that’s what happens when you stay up half the night trying to figure out a way to sneak seven classmates into your parents’ top secret laboratory. Especially when one of them sloshes around in a giant goldfish bowl. And the worst part is what I came up with—which is nothing. Zip. Zippo. Zilch. Nada. Well, unless you count synonyms for “nothing.”

  I walk into Ms. Gassias’s math class. She’s not here yet. Good. Maybe I can catch a minute or two of shut-eye. Then again, maybe not. Luna is sitting in the middle of the classroom, and there’s a seat open right behind her. Here’s my opportunity! I quickly make my way over to the open desk.

  What is it with this guy? What did I ever do to him? Well, the seat next to him is open. I guess I’ll just take that one and hope he doesn’t decide to cram me into my backpack.

  “Sorry again, brainiac, but that’s my right foot’s seat.”

  Dorn puts his foot on the desk. I see that the desk next to him on the other side is open. I may not be a Mighty Mega Supergenius—yet—but I’m smart enough to know where this is going.

  “Let me guess—you’re using that desk, too, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? I… uh… I guess I’ll just sit over there, then.”

  “But my left foot is.”

  Wow. Dorn may be a jerk, but I’ve got to give him credit for being flexible. Although I doubt he can fit his whole body into a helmet, like I can. Anyway, there’s another seat open in the back, next to Rand-El. I sit down without a hitch. Dorn is eyeballing me, but apparently, he isn’t quite that flexible.

  As I’m taking my book out of my backpack, I hear a deep, growling sound from the other side of the room. It’s getting louder. It’s Grimnee, and she’s clomping her way toward the center of the room. She doesn’t look happy.

  Yikes! Zot wasn’t kidding. Grimnee really doesn’t like bullies! She rolls Dorn out into the hallway, closes the door, and sits back down. Her desktop is missing a large, hand-shaped chunk.

  Rand-El leans over. “So, Kelvin, how are we going to get into that lab?”

  Gee, I thought he’d never ask. “I don’t know yet,” I tell him. “We need to use one of my parents’ key cards, but if they find out I took it, I’ll be toast.”

  Rand-El looks disappointed. “I already talked to the rest of the group, and they all think they can sneak out of their LIV spaces tonight. This might be the only time everybody can make it.”

  “Well, my parents are going to Bula’s art fair tonight, and they’ll have their key cards with them. But I’ll see what I can do. By the way, why do you sit way back here? I can hardly see the screen.”

  “Not a problem,” Rand-El says. “My top set of eyes is great for long distances. I can read a textbook from five hundred feet away.”

  I’m confused. “Then why do you wear glasses?”

  “Because,” he says, “they look cool. The top ones don’t even have lenses in them.”

  Ms. Gassias enters the room.

  She’s a cloud of gas, although she won’t tell us what kind. I can tell you this much, though—she’s definitely not odorless.

  “Kelvin, would you do us the honor of coming up and solving today’s first problem? I’m sure this all seems too simple for a young man of your cognitive abilities, but it would help the rest of the class to see it done correctly.”

  Man, I cannot catch a break at this school! I was able to do most of the homework, but Ms. Gassias always puts the hardest problems up on the screen. And they’re usually waaay over my head.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to hog the best problems, Ms. Gassias. Why don’t you go ahead and let somebody else give it a try.”

  “Nonsense, Mr. Klosmo. Stop being so modest and come on up here. I’m hoping to learn something myself.”

  All right. Here goes nothing. I can’t see the screen from back here. Maybe it’s not too tough of a problem after all. Maybe I’ll luck out and I can fudge my way through it. I get up and slowly walk to the front of the class. As I get closer,
the screen comes into focus.

  Wait! I know this one! I can do this! Prepare to be impressed, Luna. Ol’ Kelvin is going to strut his stuff. I grab the stylus and begin to write, pausing a couple times to stroke my chin so everybody thinks I’m a real thinker.