“A bit harsh, don’t you think?” Niemand said.
“Kristin,” spat Alex. “Get. Away. From. Those. Villains.”
As Kristin jumped away, Spencer Niemand barked a laugh. “Aren’t we being a bit dramatic, dear girl? Consider our last meeting. As I recall, you had cruelly trapped me in a dangerous, unhygienic relic on a remote Arctic island. With a slavering German engineer who had communication issues. Textbook villainy if you ask me.”
“Our last meeting,” Max said, “was outside a prison in Massachusetts. Where you had escaped after being jailed for multiple crimes. I think they were kidnapping, attempted murder, and grand larceny.”
“Ah, glad you reminded me!” Niemand pulled a wallet from his pocket and slid it across the table to Max. “I believe this is yours. Sorry, old bean. I needed the cash, and you were such an easy target.”
Alex lunged across the table, reaching for Niemand’s throat. With a yawn, he calmly veered aside. She went sprawling over the table, landing on the stone floor with a sickening thud and crashing into the wall.
“Oopsy,” Niemand said.
Max, Brandon, and Kristin raced toward her. Behind them, flying monkeys were rushing into the hut, cackling and hooting.
“Ssssssssss!”
The sudden sound was barely louder than an insect’s buzz, but it stopped the monkeys’ voices cold. They stood at the entrance to the inner room and stared, slack-jawed. Annsa was just inside the door, facing them, his skeletal hand raised high over his head.
As Max helped Alex sit up, Annsa rasped a few unintelligible words to his minions. Immediately they backed into the other room.
“Are you OK?” Max asked his cousin.
“Remind me never to do that again,” Alex said, holding her head.
“I merely stepped away from an attack.” Spencer Niemand stood, offering his seat to Alex. “My apologies. You caught me by surprise.”
“Stuff it,” Brandon said, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Where on earth did you find Dudley Do-Right?” Niemand said
“Papa, that is not called for,” Bitsy said, turning to Max and Alex. “Please don’t be angry. We can explain—”
“Give us back the serum!” Max blurted.
“Don’t ask us,” Niemand said, gesturing back to Annsa. “Ask the Zombie from the Green Lagoon.”
“Ssssssssstop! Sssssit!”
The tiny sound of Annsa’s command managed to cut through the noise like a siren. In the sudden quiet, the crackling of the fire sounded like breaking bones. Obediently Niemand, Bitsy, Max, Alex, Brandon, took seats or perched at the edge of the table.
Annsa walked slowly to a small green cabinet made of tight rubbery cords. He pulled out an enormous conch shell and held it to his mouth. When he spoke through it, his voice was still raspy but extremely loud.
“I have the serum,” he said. “And it will stay here.”
“You see?” Niemand said. “This . . . erm, fine elderly gentleman set his hench-creatures after us. We were simply attempting to do the right thing, to carry out the noble mission of Jules Verne. For the benefit of the world. So Annsa is the thief here. Not I, not dear Bitsy. We were in the midst of delicate negotiations when you so rudely interrupted us.”
“Papa, they did not interrupt,” Bitsy scolded. She looked pleadingly at Max. “I know you and Alex are angry at me, and I don’t blame you. But please know that my concern was for the good of humankind. I could have explained my plans, but you would not have supported them, so I had to act alone. I could have taken the serum earlier, but I waited for your mother to recover. I do have a heart. You were so emotionally involved. You also desired the serum for yourselves, and I understand that. But my father possessed the secret to replicating it, and it was important to—”
“Steal it from Martin Hetzel?” Alex said.
Niemand held up a bony finger. “Free it from obscurity,” he said. “Into which it was about to fall, had we not rescued it. In this age of interwebbery, you know, it’s just so easy to find people.”
“You snuck into his files while he had a heart attack,” Max said.
“The word,” Niemand said, “is sneaked. At any rate, how were we to know the old fellow would fall ill?”
“How was he to know he’d be fleeced by an escaped convict?” Alex snapped. “Who’d been freed by a thief?”
“Imprisoning a man like Papa—that was an injustice,” Bitsy said. “His life’s goal is the safety of the world in the aftermath of climate change! We all want that. So now that you’re here, now that we are trapped together, what is there to lose? We can choose to be partners. I plead with you to trust us.” She turned to Annsa. “And I plead with you, sir, to give us back the serum. Let us all heal the world together.”
“Not so fast,” Alex said. “Trust you? We heard that in the Nautilus. We heard that from Nigel, from your mother, from you. And each time we were betrayed.”
“Mr. Annsa,” Max said, “I know you’re superold and, like, really set in your ways. But this serum is a big, big deal. One of your buddies, the hairy, tentacle-y one, brought Brandon back to life with it, after he was toast. The person who brought it down here in the first place, long before you were born? He was the one and only Jules Verne, who was my great-great-great-grandfather—”
“By the light of Loki,” Annsa said, “I can see the resemblance.”
Max stopped in midsentence. “Wait, what? You do?”
“And also a resemblance to you . . .” he said to Alex.
She raised her eyebrows. “Well, no one’s ever told me that. I mean, the skin and the hair and the gender and all, plus no beard, but I can write like a fiend.”
“No . . . no, it’s in the eyes, the confidence, the quick intelligence,” Annsa said. “It is him all over again.”
“So . . . you’re a fan,” Max said. “That’s cool. You’ve seen pictures, huh? We have a portrait in our living room.”
“Ck . . . ck . . . ck . . .” Annsa said.
“That’s his laugh,” Bitsy explained.
“I do not need portraits,” the old man said. “Not for a man to whom I became closer than anyone in the world. Annsa, you see, may be what these loyal creatures call me . . .”
“Annsa! Annsa!” agreed the winged monkey guards.
“. . . But my real name,” he continued, “is Arne Saknussemm.”
Max exhaled. Claiming to be someone who died in the 1800s was definitely a sharp turn into cuckoo-land.
Alex laughed. “That’s a good one, sir. I’m Joan of Arc.”
“No, Alex, I believe him. There are many with this name.” Kristin gave the old man a weary smile. “This is another Hobnagian.”
“Excuse me?” the old man said.
“The group that believes Iceland was invaded by space aliens from a planet called Hobnag, remember?” Kristin replied. “They latched onto Saknussemm as their hero. Frankly, they are responsible for helping to destroy his reputation. No disrespect intended, sir, but the real Arne Saknussemm was a genius and a good man—a real human being who deserves his place in history, and I am proud to be his great-great-great-granddaughter.”
Annsa said nothing for a long moment, and Max worried he’d had a heart attack. Finally he rasped, “What is your name, dear?”
“Kristin.”
“Sweet Kristin . . .” A tiny droplet winked down the folds of the old man’s cheeks. “I care not a whit for history, but it pleases me greatly that I make you proud. And that dear Jules’s discovery made this meeting possible.”
Kristin stared with utter bafflement into the old man’s face. “The serum . . .”
“Yes.” The ends of Saknussemm’s lips creaked upward. “I accompanied Verne and his nephew on their initial voyage, as a guide. But when they left, I stayed. These beings, this environment—I found it much less dull than the world above. I thought I would die here, if not from the environment then from old age. None of us predicted the serum would do this to me.” He h
eld out his emaciated arms. “Although my body has aged, my soul will not leave it.”
Choking back a sob, Kristin gently hugged the man she never thought she could meet. “That is so awesome,” she said. “And tragic.”
Alex’s jaw had dropped open. “This is getting weirder and weirder.”
“I just adore family reunions,” Niemand said. “Now, why don’t you all stay and have a party? My treat, send the bill to Niemand Enterprises, no expense spared. So if you’ll give my daughter and me our backpacks, we will be on our merry way.”
“No!” Alex and Max blurted at the same time.
“You may stay or you may leave,” Saknussemm said, releasing Kristin from a long hug. “But I’m afraid it is necessary that we keep the serum here.”
“We need it, sir,” Max pleaded. “It saved my mom’s life and cured my friend Evelyn.”
Saknussemm stared at him. “Are you sure you want that? Do you want them to be . . . like I am?”
Max fought away the thought. He didn’t want to think about that at all. “I want them alive,” he said. “And healthy. And we know you have some of your own serum here, because this hairball dude used it to save Brandon. So please, give it back.”
“And teach us what you know,” Alex added. “We have so many questions. How much of it does my aunt need? Is there a dosage? And why did Jules Verne bring the serum here?”
“In his note he mentioned something about propagating it,” Max said. “In a large body of salinated water, I think.”
Saknussemm reached over and put his hand on Max’s. Even though it felt like frozen crab claws, and Saknussemm’s eyes were solid white, Max didn’t flinch. “Do you trust me, my boy?” the old man said.
“Trust,” Niemand said, “is not his strong suit.”
“I did not ask you,” Saknussemm snapped.
Max swallowed. Looking at Niemand made him smell ammonia. Somehow that always happened when he knew someone was trying to fool him.
But the smell vanished when he looked back at Arne Saknussemm.
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Then listen closely,” Saknussemm said. “What you should do now is go back to your family and pray for the best.”
38
A moment of stunned silence was all Niemand needed.
Leaping across the table, he bolted into the next room. The flying-monkey guards shrieked. Caught by surprise, they fell into each other in a tangle of wings and arms. Before Max could react, Niemand was racing back, pulling something from a backpack with the black Niemand Enterprises logo on it.
“Stand away from the wall! Now!” His voice snapped against the stone walls, cold and threatening, and no one dared disobey.
As they all leaped back, Niemand threw a small black pellet that missed Max by inches, hitting the wall where they’d just cleared. It exploded into fragments and black dust.
Not missing a step, he plowed right through, with Bitsy close behind.
“They have the serum!” Alex shouted.
“He almost exploded my ear!” Max yelled.
Alex covered her face and ran through the cloud. Max followed close on her heels, inhaling a mouthful of dust.
“Right behind you!” Brandon called out, as Max dropped to his knees coughing. “Here, drink some of this water. I swiped it from Bitsy.”
Max guzzled from a cool plastic bottle, blinking against the black soot. Brandon was pulling him forward, shouting for Kristin over his shoulder.
“What about Saknussemm?” came Kristin’s voice.
Max stopped and turned. She was still near the hut, staring at the destruction.
Brandon pushed Max forward. “Go—follow Alex. We’ll split into twosomes. Kristin is going to need some convincing. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up.”
Spitting out as much dust as he could, Max sped into the jungle. For a moment he thought he’d lost Alex, but he spotted her parka moving far ahead among the bushes. The thick, humid air was turning the soot on his face into a black soup that dripped into his eyes, stinging them again. “I’m here!” Max called out. “Keep going!”
Small animals moved in the underbrush, startled by the commotion. He ignored them as best he could, taking care not to twist his ankles on arching roots and stray rocks.
When he caught up to Alex, she was panting and hunched over. “I . . . I lost them,” she said.
“You didn’t, don’t worry.” Max glanced around for any movement. He looked up in the trees and across the tops of bushes. “Lucky for us it’s an island. They can’t get far.”
“How do we know that, Max?” Alex said. “We never saw the other side. It could be an isthmus or a peninsula. Or if it is an island, maybe it’s miles long. Miles of Gumby bushes and mutant animals. Maybe Niemand is being eaten by a lion crossed with an alligator, or some crazy thing—and maybe we will be too.”
Now Brandon was barging through the underbrush, breathing hard. Behind him, Kristin was sniffling, wiping her eyes.
“Oh no,” Alex said. “Is Saknussemm . . . ?”
Kristin shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said softly.
“So sorry,” Alex said.
“What about Skunky and Brit-girl?” Brandon asked.
“They got away,” Alex said.
“They know a different path back,” Max said. “For all we know, they could be back inside the volcano wall and—”
A muffled boom shook the ground, and then another. Max fell silent.
“Where’d that come from?” Brandon asked.
“Feels like an earthquake,” Max said.
“Earthquakes don’t sound like thunder,” Kristin said.
Max spotted a broad, beaver-like animal silently hurrying through the trees. For a moment its footfalls tap-tap-tapped on something solid before it vanished from sight.
“Did you hear that?” Max asked.
“Hear what?” Alex said.
“The beaver—whatever it was—its paws hit something solid,” Max said.
He headed farther into the woods, in the direction of the tapping sound. But this part of the jungle was exactly like every other one, and for some reason it scared him. He began thinking about Hansel and Gretel, and how he had cried and kicked when his mom told him the story, because it was just wrong and dumb for Hansel to leave bread crumbs. Bread crumbs were food, and food could be eaten, and that was the night when Max first sensed the gas-stove smell in his nose, before he even knew the word mercaptan, before he realized that he smelled it every time he was anxious. Like he was smelling it right this moment.
Fact: They were lost. Fact: They hadn’t left bread crumbs or any kind of crumbs. Or even twine like the Minotaur in the labyrinth, which was another sad story. As Max began to moan, the others came running. “Max, we’re here,” Alex said. “What just happened?”
Booom.
Clank.
Max went still. That clank was new. It came from somewhere on the forest floor. Nearby.
Everyone’s eyes went toward it.
“Nothing,” Max whispered. “Until that.”
An upside-down U shape was sticking straight up out of the undergrowth. It wouldn’t have been noticeable without the noise from underneath. Max moved closer. He could tell it wasn’t a plant, but something metallic. He squatted down and tried to brush away the moss and sand around it, but it all stayed put, as if glued.
“Looks like a handle,” Brandon said, as he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled.
“Be careful!” Alex said.
A section of the forest floor lifted up, as round as a manhole cover and twice as large. Brandon maneuvered the disk until the entire hole was clear, and he let the lid thump to the ground.
From below came the rushing sound of water and a murmuring of familiar voices with English accents.
A crude set of stairs, carved into the stone, led downward. With a smile, Max stepped onto them.
“Guess who’s coming for dinner?” he yelled into the darkness.
; 39
NEAR the base of the stairs, Niemand was banging with a hammer on a solid metallic door embedded in the lava wall. Bitsy sat near him on the stone floor, consulting a stack of papers. They barely looked up as Max, Alex, Kristin, and Brandon loomed over them.
“Don’t just stand there like the bathroom queue at Harrods,” he shouted, over the noise of a small waterfall. “Help us.”
They were all on a ridge, overlooking an underground grotto with vertical walls that stretched farther than he could see. The ceiling glowed with eerie green moss light, but the lagoon below was a deep, clear blue. Neon-bright fish wriggled slightly beneath the surface, disappearing into the froth beneath the waterfall, which began just below the rock ceiling and cascaded into the pool below.
But Max’s eye was drawn to a giant boulder just beyond the waterfall, wedged against the wall and carved into the face of a wise, smiling man. “Is that sculpture who I think it is?” Max asked.
“It looks like my great-great-great-grandfather as a much younger man.” Kristin choked back a tear and turned to Niemand. “He had made his peace with whatever happened here. And you murdered him.”
“So sorry,” Niemand replied. “That was the smallest targeted explosive we manufacture, far less powerful than a grenade. Not much one can do about shoddy construction, I suppose. Ah well, look at it this way. The old man had a good, long ride. We should all be so lucky.”
Kristin let out a scream and ran for Niemand. But she stopped when Bitsy lifted out a palmful of black pellets—the same ones that had taken down the hut. “These hurt,” she said.
As Kristin stepped back, her fists were clenched. “Now then,” Niemand said cheerily, “I know you’re eager to learn why we’re here and how you can help. Because like it or not, you are working for me now.”
Alex let out a laugh.
“Amusing?” Niemand replied. “Then go. Turn around and go. All is forgiven, no questions asked. I take it you have an alternative way home. Bitsy and I will miss your charming company.”
Max looked at Alex. All four of them shifted uncomfortably.
Niemand smiled. “Well then, welcome to the Gastonian Grotto—catchy name, eh? Discovered by the Vernes, uncle and nephew. Although the island is surrounded by the green sea, this water is connected to a different source. It penetrates deeper into the Earth.”
Enter the Core Page 18