by Luke Sharpe
“It’s going . . . slowly,” I admit, although “slowly” doesn’t really cover it. My Spy Dye looks kind of like old soup. Probably because it is old soup.
“Well, are you ready for your first class, Billy?” Drew asks. “Interrogation. Things can get pretty wild in there.”
“Okay,” I say. Interrogation? Bring it on!
To Catch a Scammer
IN CLASS I take a seat near my new friends. The teacher, Mr. Doval, doesn’t make a fuss over me, like teachers do back at Fillmore when there’s a new kid. Phew.
Mr. Doval stands up and speaks. “There are a few basic interrogation techniques I’d like to outline for you,” he says. “Of course, we do not condone hurting those we interrogate. However, a little discomfort can go a long way.”
Mr. Doval presses a button on his desk. ZURP! A light blazes, shining up from the surface. Then a life-size hologram of a man in an orange prison jumpsuit stands in front of the classroom!
WOW!
“In this case, Prisoner A, as we’ll call him, has information about the agency’s missing iguana,” Mr. Doval says. “Watch as we demonstrate the use of basic physical discomfort to gain what we need.”
Iguana? Before I can ask why the agency has an iguana, a hologram guard brings Prisoner A a tall glass of iced tea. SLURP! The prisoner drinks it down quickly.
This doesn’t look so bad to me. In fact, I’m pretty thirsty, myself.
We wait. A few seconds later, the guard brings out another glass of iced tea. And again, Prisoner A drinks it down. This is repeated two more times, and that’s when I notice that with each glass the prisoner drinks, his body language changes. He appears more and more uncomfortable.
The prisoner’s legs move closer together, his arms wrap around his body, and he grits his teeth.
Oh! I get the “discomfort” that Mr. Doval was talking about now. They’re not going to let Prisoner A go to the bathroom after drinking all that iced tea! And let me tell you . . . that was a lot of iced tea. I’ve been there on long car rides. Long car rides where Emily knows I have to pee and will talk about waterfalls and swimming pools and anything to make me go crazy. Yup, I would talk too, if it meant that someone would give me a bathroom key!
The hologram vanishes.
“Physical discomfort,” says Mr. Doval. “Any questions?”
No one raises a hand. The example couldn’t have been more clear.
“This next technique is especially interesting. We call it COVER STORY. It involves making a suspect repeat the tiny details of a false story he or she has been telling, again and again, until you catch the suspect in a lie.”
Now, this is something Drew and his memory would be good at.
“Watch this next demonstration,” Mr. Doval says.
But we don’t watch his next demonstration. Because just as he is about to press a button on his desk, the classroom door opens and in walks . . . Mom!
Mom is followed by two other agents. They lead a teenage girl in front of them.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Doval,” she begins, as the agents guide the girl over to a seat in front of the classroom. “But I have a suspect here that I think your class might benefit from interrogating.”
“She’s probably an actor,” Josh whispers to me.
“Actually, this suspect is real, not an actor,” Mom says.
I think Mom’s special agent superpower is her hearing.
“This young woman is a suspect in an online scam,” Mom explains. “The scam promises a magic cream that will help kids grow taller. Kids buy it and then never receive it.” She turns to the suspect. “What do you call it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.
“Class, could you help me interrogate this suspect to find out if she is the scammer? Good luck!”
Then Mom leaves the classroom.
To my shock, Morgan jumps up from her seat and hurries to the front of the room. She stares at the suspect. The suspect stares back. I can’t tell what either of them must be thinking.
Then Morgan points to something on the suspect’s T-shirt. I lean in to see if I can read what it says, but the letters are unfamiliar. Greek, maybe?
Morgan starts speaking in Greek. The suspect’s eyes light up with surprise. (Later, Morgan explains what she said to her, so here’s how it went down.)
“It is nice to meet someone else who speaks Greek. I have to tell you I feel pretty bad for you. I can’t stand the people in this room. I don’t like anything about this whole place. I’m being forced to stay here. But you look like someone I can trust.”
As she speaks in Greek, I can see the teenager start to relax. She looks a lot less nervous. Morgan continues:
“If you can tell me what really happened, I can help you fool these people and get you out of here. What do you think? And don’t worry, no one else here speaks Greek. They’ll have no idea what you are saying.”
The suspect’s whole facial expression changes. She gives Morgan a small smile. Morgan turns her back to the suspect, looks right at Josh, and gives him a signal with her eyebrows. Josh leans forward in his seat.
“So, what were you planning to do with the money raised from people buying your product?” Morgan asks.
The suspect speaks slowly in Greek, seeming to get more and more comfortable as she goes along.
Josh puts his fingers to his temples and shuts his eyes tightly. A few seconds later, Josh whispers something to Drew. They’re really in sync. It’s awesome. Morgan sits down. Drew walks up to the front of the room.
“Tell me what exactly you were trying to do with your business?” Drew asks the suspect.
“I was raising money for college,” she says.
“But isn’t it true that the kids who ordered your magic growing cream never got it?” Drew asks.
“Well, we did have some shipping problems,” she replies nervously.
“Shipping from a warehouse, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we contacted the warehouse, and they’ve never heard of your magic growing cream.” Drew is holding the suspect’s file in his hand. Wow. He must have read that pretty quickly!
The girl squirms in her seat.
Drew leans in close. “Why did you want to buy a red car?” he asks quickly.
“I wanted to impress . . . I mean, what car?”
“The cherry-red convertible sports car with turbo-charged engine, eight-speaker sound system, 5-speed transmission with overdrive, Bluetooth, and voice-controlled GPS? That car.”
“How—how did you know all that?” the girl stammers, obviously stunned by the detail of Drew’s description.
“So it’s true,” Drew replies.
The girl buries her head in her hands. “Yes, it’s true. There was no real project. My website was just a way to scam money out of kids so I could buy a cool car. Everyone else at school has a car, but not me!”
Drew turns to the two agents who brought the suspect in with Mom.
“Agents, I think you have your confession,” he says. “The suspect is all yours.”
The agents lead the girl from the room.
I am amazed. How did that just happen?
“Excellent work, Morgan, Josh, and Drew,” says Mr. Doval. “Would you all please come to the front of the classroom and explain your use of interrogation techniques?”
Morgan and Josh join Drew in front of the class.
“When I saw the Greek writing on the girl’s shirt, I figured I could play good cop with her by speaking to her in Greek,” Morgan explains.
“Once Morgan asked her a direct question, I could read her mind,” Josh says, picking up the story. “Her thoughts about the car were in Greek, but she pictured the car in her mind. I whispered the details to Drew, who remembered them all thanks to his great memory.”
“And I used a variation of the cover story technique. I threw out the true details of the car to shock her into messing up her story and finally confessing,”
Drew says.
“Excellent work,” says Mr. Doval. “Thank you all! Class dismissed.”
As we all get up, I head to the front of the room.
“You guys are amazing!” I say.
“Stick with us, kid,” says Morgan. “You’ll learn a lot.”
Before I can comment on Morgan calling me “kid” even though we are the same age, Mom comes bursting in. She looks anxious, upset, and out of breath.
“Mom, what’s the matter?” I ask.
She pulls me aside.
“Billy, I’ve just been handed an assignment that requires the Spy Dye ASAP!” she explains. “Agent Paul and I need your help. You are the only one who can invent Spy Dye—even if you have to use your sleep-inventing technique.”
“But what about my classes?” I ask. I’m actually looking forward to seeing Drew, Josh, and Morgan in action again after what they just pulled off.
“No more classes for you today, I’m afraid,” Mom explains. “I was hoping that you could ease into this place, take all your classes to get a context for the Spy Dye, and then hit the invention lab to work on it.” Mom shakes her head. “But it looks like you are going to have to fast-track the inventing. We have to go to the lab. Now.”
The Big Rescue Mission
BACK AT THE invention lab, I grab some materials from the supply closet and spread them out on my workbench. To be honest, I didn’t really look at what I was grabbing. I feel more at home that way.
The invention lab is a lot less crowded than it was this morning, probably because a lot of the kids—like Drew and Xavier—are in class. I see Julius and Sylvia, though. We wave to each other.
I’m optimistic that the Spy Dye will be easy to invent. That’s because this invention is like a mash-up of my other ones. The All Ball can change into different shapes—just like Spy Dye will help to conceal gear by making it look like something else. The No-Trouble Bubble can protect someone from danger—just like Spy Dye. And with the mind reading capability of the Best Test, I can make the Spy Dye operate on command. . . .
BOOM!
Just as I’m thinking about how easy all this will be, there’s a big flash of lightning, and Sylvia’s workstation gets charred!
“I’m okay!” Sylvia shouts immediately. I walk over to her.
“What happened?” I ask. Sylvia’s hair is sticking straight up. It’s like she created a personal lightning storm!
“Oh, it’s just the Palm Power 5000,” Sylvia replies. “I’m having some trouble with it. It’s just too strong. And of course, we need it for the Big Rescue Mission!”
“THE BIG RESCUE MISSION?” I repeat.
“There’s an agent being held captive by enemy spies,” Sylvia explains. “And it’s pretty serious. I have to complete the Palm Power 5000 ASAP. Without it—and other inventions—we might not be able to rescue our agent.”
Uh-oh. I get that sick feeling in my stomach whenever I’m under pressure. My feet start tapping. Mom told me she needs the Spy Dye ASAP too. Is my invention supposed to save an agent from enemy spies?
Sylvia starts to clean her workbench, but it’s all fried. It kind of smells like my Dad’s cooking on those rare times he admits that something went wrong. But to my surprise, Sylvia takes out a spray bottle from the supply closet and sprays something all over her stuff. Instantly it turns back into how it was before the fire!
“BURN SPRAY,” Sylvia explains, probably noticing how confused I look. “It’s a special blend I came up with. When you have an invention that creates tons of electricity, it helps being able to reverse the damage of frying.”
As Sylvia spritzes the Burn Spray on her things—her workbench, her paperwork, her supplies—they begin to bubble for a second and then come back to life. Everything, well, except for . . .
“Sylvia?” I ask, a little shy. “I think . . . I think you might need to spray your hair, too.” I’m a little nervous, because I’m definitely not somebody who comments on others’ appearances. But I think Sylvia might want to fix the hair that got burned by her Palm Power 5000. She looks kind of like a mad scientist, which I suppose she is.
Sylvia chuckles.
“Oh, that,” she says, smiling, and sprays her hair. Instantly it’s back to normal!
I don’t know about you, but I think Burn Spray is really cool.
But I’ll tell you what isn’t cool: pressure. I’m kind of used to it by now, because of school and work and inventing and everything. But I’ve never been in a position where one of my inventions is supposed to help save someone on a rescue mission. And after talking to Sylvia, I think that is exactly what Spy Dye is supposed to do!
I get back to my workstation and line it with test tubes and beakers. I start by filling them with black, brown, red, and blond hair coloring. Cranking up flames under the beakers, I bring the liquid to a boil. SERIOUSLY, DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME.
I’m about to add a secret mixture I used for the All Ball, when I hear a hum from several workstations away. The hum gets louder and louder.
Looking in the direction of the noise, I see Sylvia still at her workstation, attempting to add some enhancements to her Palm Power 5000. She is now frantically trying to adjust the device. I see a look of panic on her face.
ZZZZZZAP!
A jagged bolt of electricity goes shooting out of the Palm Power 5000 and slams right into my workstation. The test tubes full of hair dye explode and blend into a goopy pool of colors not usually found in nature.
“I am so sorry, Billy,” Sylvia says as she races over to my workstation. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” I say. My Spy Dye, on the other hand . . .
Sylvia tries to fix it with her Burn Spray, but it doesn’t help. I look down at the colorful mess and see that it has hardened into a blob. I can pick the whole thing up in once piece.
Sylvia shakes her Burn Spray a few times and tries spraying again.
“I think maybe Burn Spray only fixes things that know what they’re supposed to be,” I suggest. “But my Spy Dye probably didn’t work. So Burn Spray doesn’t know how to form that again.” I toss the blob back and forth between my hands and then toss it into the trash can. I miss, but barely, and get up to put it in.
“Again, I’m so sorry,” Sylvia apologizes, and returns to her workbench to figure out what went wrong with her device.
After some more unsuccessful attempts at inventing Spy Dye, I hear my stomach start to rumble. Grrrrrr! That’s when I realize something—it’s past dinnertime! The cafeteria must be serving dessert by now!
I get up and walk to the exit, which is just past Xavier’s workstation. Maybe I’ll invite him to dessert with me. But that’s when I realize something else, too—classes are over, and it looks like Xavier never even stopped by.
I scurry to the cafeteria just in time for dessert. Morgan, Josh, and Drew are at their usual table, scooping shattering sherbet into their mouths. I’m hoping that it’s the sherbet that shatters and not that the sherbet shatters your teeth!
“Billy!” Drew says when he sees me. “We missed you in the rest of our classes today!”
“I missed you guys too,” I say. “You all were incredible in interrogation!”
I might be imagining it, but Morgan’s mouth turns up into a slight smile.
“How’s the inventing going?” Drew asks.
“Not so good,” I admit. “I’m having no success in the lab, so I think I’m going to have to try sleep-inventing tonight.”
“Sleep-inventing?” Drew asks.
“Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but that’s what I do,” I say. “Some people sleepwalk or sleep-eat. I sleep-invent. It’s how I’ve come up with a lot of inventions. So maybe it will work for Spy Dye, too.”
Drew nods. He’s an inventor too, so I think that’s why he gets it.
After dinner, back in my room, I check my e-mail. There’s got to be a message from Manny.
But there isn’t. No e-mail replies, no texts—nothing. Is Manny okay?
Xavier isn’t back in the room either. I just can’t figure that guy out. At first he didn’t want any part of me. Now he seems to have disappeared.
I get ready for bed. Hoping for the best, I slip my pen under my pillow and place a fresh sheet of paper on my desk. I’m ready to write some blueprints for the Spy Dye in my sleep. It’s been a long day. It doesn’t take me long to fall fast asleep.
The Missing Blueprints
WHEN I WAKE up in the morning, I’m shocked. I can’t believe my eyes! There is nothing on the paper. Nothing. ZILCH.
My pen is at my desk, though, so I obviously got up, took the pen, and sat at my desk last night. I have a really strong feeling that I invented Spy Dye last night. But since there are no blueprints . . . a frightening thought strikes me:
Did someone steal the blueprints I wrote up and swap them for this blank piece of paper?
But who would do anything like that? And why?
I immediately look over at Xavier’s bed, but once again, he must have come in after I fell asleep and gotten up before I even woke up. But why would Xavier want to mess with me?
This is the point where, had this conversation been taking place with Manny instead of just in my head, he would’ve said something like: “No point worrying about this before we have some facts.”
And so, with Manny’s voice echoing in my head, I push these paranoid thoughts aside and get ready for my day.
At breakfast I meet up with Drew, Josh, and Morgan. Breakfast today is crying crepes. I’m kind of getting the hang of the whole wasting-no-time-from-plate-to-mouth thing, because the crepes only cry tearfully at me once. Some of the other students aren’t so lucky and the cries echo like a baby. WAH WAH! WAH!
News about the Big Rescue Mission seems to have traveled fast, but no one knows what it’s all about.
“I’m going to find out,” Morgan vows. “I stayed up all night thinking about how I can use my ninja skills to help.”
“Yeah, and I stayed up asking the teachers questions, hoping to read their minds!” Josh says.