The Return of Meteor Boy?

by William Boniface

  “But a mistake occurred,” the Professor continued. “I had set the Tipler with a different number. Somehow that number got changed. More important, the device is currently set for the future. It was supposed to have been set for the past.” The Professor grabbed the large lever and slid it to the left with a loud clank. “That was another mistake that won’t happen again.”

  “But it was a mistake that has prevented you from operating the machine since then,” I said in a deliberate attempt to goad him. “You’ve had no power source.”

  “I soon will,” he glowered back at me, “at exactly four thirty-five on Thursday, when Meteor Boy returns with the prodigium meteorite he stole from me.”

  “Why prodigium?” I asked. “Doesn’t anything else work?”

  “No other substance contains such an immense amount of energy,” he scowled. “And prodigium is nearly impossible to find. So I’ve had to travel these twenty-five years the old-fashioned way in order to reclaim what is mine.”

  “You know, Meteor Boy would never have been able to steal your power source in the first place if you hadn’t put it in such an exposed place, right on top of the Tipler,” I cheerfully pointed out.

  “That’s true,” he admitted. “But in this particular case it was necessary to mount the meteorite on top of the Tipler. Step aside and I’ll show you why.”

  Reaching for the same handle I had backed up against, he lifted a latch, releasing a door in the side of the enormous central cylinder. Ushering me in, we entered a small chamber, which was empty except for some control panels and what looked like a microwave oven. There was an identical latch that would allow the room to be locked from the inside as well.

  “The Tipler is really two devices in one. This smaller chamber can be operated in a completely contained area, utilizing only a small piece of prodigium placed here in the power conversion chamber.” He opened the door of the ovenlike device. “This allows only the contents of this room to be transported through time. The problem, of course, is that once something is sent through time it can never get back, because the machine itself remains in the present.”

  “What use is that?” I asked as I instinctively squeezed the small rock of prodigium I carried in my pocket.

  “Oh, you’ll see in about forty-eight hours.” The Professor chuckled menacingly. “But place a large piece of prodigium atop the Tipler on the outside, and—”

  “And it can transport the entire surrounding area through time,” I finished his sentence as a shiver coursed through my body.

  “Yes, including the Tipler itself,” the Professor explained. “But Meteor Boy grabbed my power source at precisely the moment the Tipler was activated, thrusting him forward in time, but leaving the Tipler behind.”

  “Which the League of Goodness then dismantled,” I added.

  “Exactly.” Professor Brain-Drain nodded. “So instead of just waiting for my Tipler to arrive from the past along with Meteor Boy and my power source, I’ve had to reassemble it from its original parts.”

  “Which you’ve been having those hippies and Cyclotron round up for you,” I concluded.

  “Yes, Cyclotron offered his aid,” the Professor confirmed, “for which I was grateful.”

  “You should be,” I said. “Those hippies wouldn’t have accomplished anything on their own.”

  “They are remarkably incompetent,” the Professor agreed, “but they helped me on this project originally and are hoping it will be successful this time.”

  “Why?” I asked, actually quite curious.

  “Twenty-five years ago, I promised to send them forward in time to a perfect utopia—in other words, some place where they could be as lazy and irresponsible as they wanted. Of course, I never bothered to tell them there is no such place.” He chuckled.

  “And now why are they helping you?” I asked.

  “I’ve promised to send them back to the past,” he said matter-of-factly, “which they now seem to remember as having been perfect in every way.”

  “People always seem to think the past was better than it actually was,” I agreed.

  “You’re correct.” He smirked evilly. “You are an intelligent lad.” I realized there was nowhere in the chamber to hide. “And I think it’s high time that I relieve you of some of the intelligence.”

  He lurched at me faster than I would have guessed a creaky old man could move, and got his bony grip around my neck. I saw a finger from his free hand moving toward my head.

  Just as I was afraid I was going to be taking the express train to Idiotsville, we heard an announcement coming from the loudspeakers out on the platform. It was the voice of Mayor Whitewash.

  “And now that we’ve gotten ambulances for those who need them, I’m pleased to return to our original program and present to you Superopolis’s greatest artist, Crispo!”

  “Curses!” Professor Brain-Drain spat as applause erupted from the crowd out front. “I must retain my image as Crispo for at least another two days. For now you’ll just have to wait here.”

  He shoved me away from the door and adjusted the shower cap that covered the colander on his head, chuckling softly.

  “When I return, I’ll deal with you . . . and then all of Superopolis.”

  His chuckling got louder and louder as he slammed the door shut and I heard the outer lock fall into place, trapping me inside the Tipler. I began to panic. I didn’t know how far, but clearly Professor Brain-Drain intended to transport a large portion of Superopolis into the past. To make matters worse, I was the only person who knew, and now I was his prisoner. I had to warn someone. I frantically looked around the interior of the cylinder. But it was empty except for the power conversion chamber.

  Then it struck me. There was only one person I might be able to reach. It was a desperate act, but I realized it was my only chance. I fished the small chunk of prodigium from my pocket and hoped feverishly that the setting on the outside panel was still where the Professor had left it. I set the meteorite fragment in the power chamber and closed the door.

  Almost immediately, the cylinder began to spin faster and faster until it became a blur. I knew that just outside this locked chamber, space-time was beginning to warp and the cones atop the tower were beginning to tip. I was about to travel back in time twenty-five years! I had to warn Meteor Boy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Everything Old Is New Again

  Suddenly the walls of the Time Tipler stopped spinning. I examined the chunk of prodigium I had placed in the power chamber and saw that it had been reduced to a mere pebble. I retrieved it and slipped it into my pocket. If Professor Brain-Drain had been correct, only the contents of this chamber had been transported. So I knew I must be standing inside an earlier Time Tipler. I reached for the handle, and the door opened without a problem. Hesitantly, I stepped outside the Tipler to find myself facing a completely deserted Telomere Park. No collapsed grandstand of city officials, no Amazing Indestructo, and no Professor Brain-Drain disguised as Crispo. I was definitely not in my own time.

  Then I turned around and saw the exterior of the Time Tipler. It had no shroud covering it, and all three of its cones were securely in place. I had returned to a time forty-eight hours prior to Professor Brain-Drain’s original plot.

  It reminded me why I was here, and I took off in a run. I had to find Meteor Boy and warn him about what was going to happen. Sprinting across the park, it began to sink in what I had done. I was twenty-five years in the past. How would I get back home? But even if I’d had more time to think about my decision, I still would have had no choice. It was either send myself to the past, or let Professor Brain-Drain destroy my mind, my friends and family, and probably all Superopolis.

  All these thoughts were passing through my head as I ran, which may explain why it took me a moment to remember what I had strapped to my back—Indestructo Industries’ jet pack! I screeched to a halt and stretched my arms out before me. Just as the Bee Lady had said, the controls slid out from u
nder my sleeves to fit snugly in my palms.

  With an anticipation that practically made me dizzy, I curled my fingers into a fist until they came in contact with the switches. A fraction of a second later I was rocketing straight into the air, my teeth practically rattling in my mouth from the speed. All thoughts of my predicament, my mission, and even my lack of a power vanished in an instant. I was flying!

  I got the feeling for the controls right away, almost as if they were a part of me. I did loop the loops, corkscrews, and barrel rolls like an acrobat of the air. I even flew straight up for almost a quarter of a mile. When I turned to come back down, I saw all Superopolis stretched out before me. It was familiar, but not. There were landmarks I recognized: Needlepoint Hill, Mount Reliable and Lava Park, Dr. Telomere’s Potato Chip Factory, even the Vertigo Building, looking much newer and shinier. But there were other things missing: the Cavalcade of Candy was nowhere to be seen; there was obviously no Indestructo Industries or giant statue of AI; and most jarring of all, my neighborhood was nothing more than a vast stretch of open farmland.

  And it would stay that way unless I accomplished my mission. I put my excitement about the jet pack aside and returned to the ground. I had more important things to think about for now.

  The sun was sinking toward the tops of the Carbunkle Mountains, and I knew within the hour it would start to get dark. I wasn’t sure where to go exactly, so I headed straight for the Science Museum. If the newspaper clipping I’d found in the hidey-hole was right, that was where I would find Meteor Boy.

  As I soared twenty or so feet above the rooftops, I saw something that made me screech to a halt right in midair. The museum was still several blocks away, but I circled back. Sure enough, there, down on the street, was none other than the Amazing Indestructo himself. He was dressed in his original “hip” psychedelic costume and appeared to be hiding behind a car, spying on someone. I hovered a few yards above him and watched with fascination.

  He was closely watching three boys around my own age approaching the door of a house. They were holding boxes filled with small packets. Nervously, one of the boys reached up and rang the doorbell. Within moments, the door swung open, revealing a very tall woman wearing an enormous pair of glasses that magnified a large set of very crossed eyes. The eyes were so disconcerting it took me a moment to realize she also had a medium-sized beak. The boys were startled as well and just stood there with their mouths hanging open.

  “Tell her about the product,” I heard AI hiss, poking his head up from behind the car.

  One of the boys got up his nerve and began to speak.

  “Er, ma’am”—he looked up at her uneasily—“I’d like to tell you about this incredible new line of Amazing Indestructo flower seeds.”

  The woman’s eyes widened even more. She didn’t say a word, but she did pull up one of her knees as far as it would go. The boy who was giving the sales pitch was clearly flustered but continued to speak as the woman stood there, now on just one leg.

  “These amazing seeds aren’t available in stores, and the flowers they grow are indestructible.”

  “Indestructible looking,” AI whispered loudly, already well aware of how to make a product claim vague enough to avoid lawsuits.

  “Uh, yeah,” the boy corrected himself, “they’re indestructible looking.”

  “Do you have gardenia seeds?” the woman suddenly shrieked, to the surprise of everyone. The boy just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

  “Tell her yes!” AI hissed loudly. “Even if you don’t have any.”

  All three boys began frantically sifting through the packs of seeds in their boxes in an attempt to find gardenia seeds.

  “I found some,” one of them cried victoriously.

  To the surprise of all three boys the woman dove her head into the box of seeds and began pecking at them like a jackhammer, all while still standing on just one leg. In a panic they dropped their boxes of seeds and scattered. One of them spun himself into a small tornado and took off across the lawn. Another spastically began flying about the yard like a popped balloon. Meanwhile, the third just vanished entirely. It was easy to see I had found three of the original Junior Leaguers: Funnel Boy, Inflato, and InvisiBoy.

  “You forgot to collect the money!” AI started shouting frantically as he abandoned his hiding place behind the car.

  I was about to descend from my position and ask them where I might find Meteor Boy, when a commotion farther down the street suddenly caught my attention.

  A large crowd of people were coming right toward us. They were all shouting and pointing into the air.Looking up, I saw a familiar sight: a rainbow in the form of a large balloon drifting overhead. It was moving so slowly, though, that the crowd on the ground was having no problem keeping up with it.

  “Stop those hippies!” one of them yelled.

  “The museum’s been robbed!” shouted another.

  “They’ve stolen the only prodigium meteorite in existence!” hollered another, confirming what I had already guessed.

  I’m sure this crowd had begun as a handful of museum guards, but as it pursued the slow-moving balloon it had attracted reporters, photographers, curious bystanders, and eager heroes looking for a chance to show their stuff. But none of them could fly. And the one hero who was able to fly just stood there watching stupidly.

  “AI! Stop those villains!” I finally shouted in annoyance. The Amazing Indestructo looked around in surprise and then up in the air. His eyes settled on me and practically bulged out of his head. “What the . . . ?” he sputtered in surprise.

  “They’re getting away,” I yelled at him. “Fly after them and get them. They’ve stolen a meteorite from the museum.”

  “I can’t fly,” he shouted back in frustration.

  To my chagrin, I realized he was right. He hadn’t yet gotten his jet pack.

  “But obviously you can,” he added with amazement and a hint of jealousy.

  I hated to admit it, but he was right. This was up to me. For the first time in my life I was a hero with a power and I wasn’t going to waste the chance.

  The rainbow balloon was almost fifty yards past us at this point, but that was nothing for a kid with a jet pack. I curled my fingers until they touched the controls and blasted off toward it. I bridged the distance in seconds and found just who I expected lurking in the balloon—the Commune for Justice. Only these hippies were young and appeared even more in need of baths and haircuts than their future selves. They all looked up at me with utter surprise as I blasted over their heads and grabbed the prodigium meteorite right from the Hammer’s hands.

  I was back to where AI and his sidekicks were standing before the hippies even realized they’d been robbed. They reacted quickly, however. Rainbow Rider let her rainbow balloon sink close enough to the ground for the other hippies to jump out. They were after me in a flash. I tossed the meteorite to AI to safeguard, but I should have known better. He looked at it briefly, then at the oncoming villains, and, without even a hint of embarrassment, passed it over to Funnel Boy.

  To his credit, Funnel Boy spun himself into a whirlwind and roared off like a tornado with the meteorite in hand. But he soon found himself trapped as six duplicate SkyDiamonds surrounded him from all sides. Before I could come to his aid, another group of heroes beat me to it.

  “The League of Goodness!” I heard InvisiBoy say with awe.

  I looked up just in time to see a much younger Lord Pincushion, the Animator, MagnoBox, and the Bee Lady swooping in on a gust of wind, courtesy of Zephyr, who in this time was still very much alive.

  “SkyDiamond, Hammer,” I heard Aquarius holler, “let’s get out of here! It’s the League of Goodness!”

  Even as the heroes hit the ground, the Bee Lady directed a swarm of her little buzzers toward the bewildered SkyDiamond. Directing his six duplicates to handle the league, he grabbed the meteorite from Funnel Boy’s hands and ran for it.

  I blasted after the fleeing fleabag. With
in seconds, I had again grabbed the meteorite from out of his hands. He quickly gave up and grabbed a line hanging from the balloon just as it lifted into the air.

  I returned to the ground, the meteorite safely in my hands. InvisiBoy, Funnel Boy, and Inflato all came running up to me, waving their arms in excitement. The Amazing Indestructo was right behind them, followed by a bunch of photographers.

  “Golly,” said InvisiBoy, panting for breath, “that was amazing!”

  “Now, now,” said AI as he came up behind the kids. “Let’s not forget who the amazing one is here.”

  He laughed as if he had meant it as a joke, but I knew he was really serious.

  “Gee whillikers,” added Inflato, as I made a mental note to teach these guys some less corny exclamations. “You fly almost as well as I do!”

  I’m not sure I would describe Inflato’s uncontrolled gyrations as flying, but I was secretly pleased that I had flown at least as well as Meteor Boy himself. And just as I was about to ask them where I could find the real Meteor Boy, Funnel Boy said something that caught me totally off guard.

  “You must be new around here, kid. What’s your name?”

  What

  ’s my name? Even if I was only dressed as him, surely they recognized their friend’s costume! My mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

  “He must be new,” added InvisiBoy. “No one with a power like that could have been around here long without us finding out about him!”

  And then it hit me. In a state of shock, I answered their question with what I suddenly, yet undeniably, knew to be the truth.

  “I—I’m Meteor Boy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  New Friends

  “Meteor Boy.” Inflato rolled the words around on his tongue. “That’s almost as cool a name as mine.”

  “And what a great power,” added Funnel Boy.

  “And the name makes sense,” agreed InvisiBoy. “After all, he just prevented a meteorite from being stolen.”