“Come on. Let’s go take a look,” Lin said.
“If we have to,” I said, still not sure that I wanted to come face-to-face with something that required a metal fence.
Lin bounced over to the new opening in the mesh wall, hurdled over the Hammer of Doom, and disappeared into the dark of the box.
“Danny. You have got to come and see this. And don’t worry. It won’t bite. In fact, it’s totally toothless.”
I leaned into the hole in the wall and looked around. Light poured in through an airhole, shining a perfect spotlight on Lin and the largest egg I’d ever seen in my life.
“Whoa. That is ginormous,” I said.
The egg rested in a hammock made from yellow yarn, which was now the size of the wide ropes you’d expect on a pirate ship. The hammock held the egg nice and snug, protecting it as it made the trip across the ocean without a single crack. Lin climbed up the ropes and sat on top of the egg like a helmet-wearing bird.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m going to hatch it,” she said.
I laughed, but Lin looked 110 percent serious. “That’s an interesting idea, Lin, but we have to get that thing to the Fruity Stars Lab as fast as we can.”
Inside the Microterium, tucked away in a valley behind a big hill, Professor Penrod had built another lab inside an upside-down cereal box. It’s where he kept his Expand-O-Matic and a few lab tools. Including a Bunsen burner that we could use to heat the place up nice and toasty. Lin had named the place the Fruity Stars Lab the minute she laid eyes on it and the name stuck.
“Why?” Lin asked. “It looks so comfy in its little yellow swing.”
“For one thing, it’s too cold. We need to get it to the Fruity Stars Lab to warm it up,” I said.
“Why don’t I just sit on it until it hatches? I mean, how warm is a bird’s butt anyway?” Lin said as she started rubbing the eggshell with her hands and breathing on it with hot puffs of breath.
“Well, a bird can be pretty warm when it’s covered in feathers, but that’s not the only problem. Remember that pack of tiny-raptors that tried to chew their way into here? I’d say there is about a 94.7 percent chance they are heading back here right now,” I said.
“Ooh, wait. Look. It has light blue specks on it! I love this egg more than anything in the world. I could hug it all day.” She leaned against the egg, caressing it with her cheek and arms.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Lin. For being such an adventure seeker, she sure was a hugger. Even if the thing she was hugging had a hard shell.
“Lin. Did you hear me? Those toothy Microsaurs are probably going to come back. And they might be coming back for the egg,” I said.
Lin perked up so fast it was like she’d been poked with a pin. “They are NOT stealing my egg. EVER!”
“So, we have two choices. We hide it away in the Fruity Stars Lab, where we can get it nice and warm, or we hang around here and hope we have enough pizza and corn dogs to keep the pack of tiny-raptors happy,” I said.
Lin slipped off the egg and stood right in front of me, a very serious look on her face. “They are not taking my egg. And they are not eating your pizza. And they are NOT eating any more of my corn dogs. I have my limits, Danny,” Lin said.
“All right. Then help me get this egg down. We’re going to need your skateboard. I have an idea how we’re going to get this little guy moving, but it won’t be easy. I hope you enjoy pushing,” I said.
“As much as you love to pull,” Lin said, then spit on her hands, rubbed them together, and started untying the yarn hammock.
CHAPTER 7
HONK-HONK RETURNS!
It took a little planning and a whole lot of luck for us to lower the Microsaur egg off the metal step, but that is when the hard work really started.
“Oh my heck, this thing weighs a ton,” Lin said as she pushed the egg with all her might.
The egg was still wrapped up in the yarn hammock, and we used a few extra bits of rope to tie it to Lin’s skateboard. The tiny wheels weren’t all that helpful in the soft earth of the Microterium, but it was better than nothing.
“I don’t think it’s an actual ton, but if it were only one ounce in the real world, by the time we shrank down it would be about two hundred fifty pounds,” I said as I tugged against the rope. “Well, that is unless you consider mass and density. I’ll have to recalcu—”
“More pulley, less talky!” Lin cut me off as we came to another stop when the front wheels of the skateboard bumped into a rock.
“Right. Okay. 3 … 2 … 1 … HEAVE!” I said. Lin pushed and I pulled, but the egg didn’t budge. We shoved and yanked until we were both red-faced-exhausted, then we slumped to the ground to catch our breath.
“There’s got to be a better way,” I said. I found the canteen in my backpack, took a big swig, then passed it to Lin.
“I’m all ears if you have an idea,” Lin said, then she gulped about half the canteen down.
“What do you think is inside? It’s pretty big for an egg,” I said.
“I don’t know, but I hope it’s covered in scaly skin, with hooklike claws and more teeth than a gang of gators!” she said, acting out the creature she imagined hiding inside the egg. The thought of finding a dangerous Microsaur inside the egg made Lin smile and her eyes sparkle.
“Or maybe it could be a friendly, puddle-stomping, broccoli-loving stegosaurus,” I said.
“Ew!!! Broccoli! Gross, Danny. Why would you say something horrible like that?” Lin said, scrunching up her face and plugging her ears.
“Maybe it’s another hadrosaur, like Honk-Honk,” I said, then all at once, Lin and I had the same idea.
“Honk-Honk!” we both said at the same time.
“That’s it. We need Honk-Honk,” I said.
“She could easily carry the egg back to the Fruity Stars Lab for us,” Lin said.
“Exactly! Now all we need is Professor Penrod’s trumpet!” I said. Professor Penrod used a trumpet to call for his most helpful and loving Microsaur, Honk-Honk.
“We don’t need a trumpet. I have an idea,” Lin said.
A large vine grew at the base of a tree that dipped its roots into the creek. Halfway up the vine, orange, ice-cream-cone-shaped flowers bloomed. Lin climbed the vine, used both hands to tug one of the flowers free from the vine, then without climbing back down she put her lips to the narrow end of the orange blossom and blew.
BLAAATTTPH! HOOONK-APLTH!
“What are you…” I started to ask, but Lin shushed me and held a hand to her ear as she listened for something in the Microterium.
I listened, too, and soon a wonderful sound came to my ears.
HONK-HOOOOOOONK!
“Lin, you are a genius!” I said. I jumped up in the air and whooped real loud, calling back to Honk-Honk.
BLUURP-PAH! HOOOONK-A-SPLATCH! Lin blatted on her flower-trumpet again.
HONK-HOOOOOOONK! Honk-Honk honked back, sounding closer this time for sure.
“You are a horrible trumpet player, but—I said it before and I’ll say it again. Lin, you are a GENIUS!”
Then, sloshing their way through the river were three very familiar Microsaur faces. Zip-Zap was leading the way, followed by Bruno, a lovable three-horned tiny-ceratops, and bringing up the rear was Honk-Honk, the hardest-working Microsaur in the whole Microterium.
Lin climbed down from the vine and stood right next to me. She wore the orange flower-trumpet like an overgrown party hat and smiled wide, knowing she was the smartest girl in the Microterium.
The Microsaurs sniffed at us, inspected the large egg, and stomped around in the mud to show us how happy they were to see us again.
“Hey, Honk-Honk, can we borrow your back?” Lin asked, and Honk-Honk honked. Lin looked at me with the silly flower hat on her head. “I think that means yes.”
“For sure. And let me just say it again. Lin Song, you are a genius,” I said.
“Took you long enough to figure it o
ut, science-boy,” Lin said as she tossed the flower to Bruno, who gobbled it up in one bite.
CHAPTER 8
SADDLE UP
Tying a gigantic oval egg to the back of a Microsaur isn’t as easy as it sounds. We used all the yarn from the hammock to wrap it around the egg and Honk-Honk’s belly. We had enough rope to make it all the way around six times, but on the seventh time around we came up a little short.
“Oh man, it’s so close to wrapping around one more time,” Lin said as she straddled the egg and tried to make the two loose ends meet. “Maybe we could weave some grass into a rope or something?”
It wasn’t a horrible idea, but as I looked at Lin’s helmet lying upside down on the grass, I had a better one. “Can I use your helmet?”
“It’ll mess up your hair, but knock yourself out,” Lin said.
“It’s not for me. It’s for the egg,” I said.
“Oh yeah. Good idea,” Lin said as I tossed it up to her. By tying the ends of the yarn to the straps of her helmet, there was just enough room to complete the seventh loop of rope. “It worked!” Lin said.
“Is it stable?” I asked.
Lin was still next to the egg, and she rocked it back and forth. It didn’t budge an inch, and Lin smiled down at me. “It’s perfect. Well, almost perfect.”
“Am I missing something? It looks good from down here,” I said.
“You’re not missing anything, but the egg is,” Lin said. “Do you have a marker in your backpack?”
“Of course. I have a pack of four permanent markers in the side pocket. Why?” I asked.
“Toss one up for me, will ya? You’ll see what’s missing soon enough,” Lin said. She snapped the cap off of the black marker, leaned over the egg while still sitting on top of it, and started drawing on the egg. She finished, then jumped down from Honk-Honk to inspect her masterpiece.
“Now it’s perfect,” Lin said with her hands on her hips and the marker tucked behind her ear. She had drawn a face on the egg, right under the helmet.
“Lin, I have to admit, that is much better,” I said. I pulled my backpack down tight over my shoulders. “You ready to roll?”
“Yup. Race you to the Fruity Stars Lab?” she asked as Zip-Zap, the fastest and wildest ride, nudged her in the back. Zip-Zap loved taking Lin for a ride almost as much as Lin loved riding him.
“Do you remember how to get there?” I asked Lin.
Lin jumped up on Zip-Zap’s feathery back, then pointed in the totally wrong direction. “To the Fruity Stars Lab!” she said.
“Um. You should probably follow me or you’ll end up in Maze Canyon,” I said. I climbed up on Bruno’s back. He was a much safer ride, and holding on to the crest of a triceratops almost felt like holding on to a steering wheel. I squeezed Bruno’s ribs with my knees. “Let’s go, Bruno. Up the hill, buddy!”
“I’ve always wanted to see Maze Canyon,” Lin said, then she gave Zip-Zap a pat on his head, and they were off.
Honk-Honk followed us, but Zip-Zap and Lin took off in the opposite direction. I could hear her laughing as she bounced on the Microsaur’s back, trying to get him to turn around and follow us to Professor Penrod’s laboratory hideout, the Fruity Stars Lab.
“I guess you better call for them, Honk-Honk,” I said.
Honk-Honk honked a long HOOOOOOOOONK, and before we got to the top of the hill, Lin and Zip-Zap had not only caught up to us, they ran around us in circles, jumped off the trunks of trees, did flips over boulders, and splashed in mud puddles, and they were still faster than me and Bruno.
When we got to the top of a big hill, I looked down and saw the Fruity Stars Lab in the valley below us, but something wasn’t quite right. Bruno was acting nervous, turning his wide, three-horned head to the left, then to the right. His usual happy wagging tail was curled up underneath him, and he kind of crouched down close to the ground. Something was bothering Honk-Honk, too, but I couldn’t see anything.
I heard Lin and Zip-Zap running around, laughing and chirping with every bounce, then all of a sudden that stopped, too. All I could hear was the wind combing its way through the deep grass. Honk-Honk raised up on her back legs and sniffed the air. Then I heard a low, growling, clicking noise in the deep grass. Then another. AND ANOTHER.
I could feel Bruno’s thick hide tremble underneath me. “It’s okay, boy,” I said in a soft voice, trying to calm the bulky Microsaur down, but it was no use.
I looked at Honk-Honk, and I could tell she was worried, too. Scared even. We were surrounded by growling and clicking, then Honk-Honk let out the loudest HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK I had ever heard.
It was just the boost Bruno needed. He bolted forward so fast that I nearly fell off. We ran right past Lin and Zip-Zap. “Come on! Get to the lab!” I shouted, and Lin yahooed cowgirl style as she gave Zip-Zap a tight squeeze with her legs. The four of us bolted toward the Fruity Stars Lab and ran inside. Lin and I jumped off our Microsaurs, then quickly knocked over the pencils holding up the entry flap.
There was barely enough room inside the lab for Lin and me, let alone two large, excited Microsaurs. I looked around and noticed that the place was a mess. There were strips of cardboard all around, and the walls were scratched and torn apart.
“The new pack beat us here, and they ripped the place to shreds,” Lin said.
“We’ll worry about that later. Where’s Honk-Honk?” I asked, looking out a rough-edged hole ripped in the side of the Fruity Stars Lab.
“There she is,” Lin said, stuffing her arm out of another hole and pointing up the hill.
Honk-Honk ran toward us, the egg bouncing on her back. A few of the ropes we’d tied on were dangling at her side, but even that didn’t worry me as much as what I saw next.
The pack of tiny-raptors was chasing her down the hill. They had long, ostrich-like legs, thick black claws, and dark, speckled feathers. Their wide eyes were separated by a big bony lump above their noses, and their mouths were filled with sharp, cardboard-shredding TEETH!
“RUN, HONK-HONK! RUN!” Lin shouted.
“We need to make room for her in here,” I said, but it was no use. There wasn’t enough room for a Shrink-A-Fied bag of jelly beans inside the lab with us, let alone a massive hadrosaur with an egg tied to her back.
But in the end, it didn’t matter, because there was no stopping Honk-Honk. I was afraid she was going to run right into us, smashing down the Fruity Stars Lab in the process. Lin pulled her arm inside the box, and we both closed our eyes and hunkered down under a table made of dice, pushpins, and a big pink eraser. The ground beneath us shook like an earthquake, then as soon as it started, the shaking ended.
Honk-Honk had led the pack away, leaving us safely behind.
“That was pretty scary,” I said after things had quieted down.
“Are you kidding? That was amazing. Did you see those little guys? They were ADORABLE! What were they, Danny?” she asked, but I was already on it.
“I’m not sure that word means what you think it means,” I said as I jumped up and squeezed past Bruno. He grunted happily as he ate the pink corner off Professor Penrod’s eraser table. I pulled down one of Professor Penrod’s leather-bound notebooks from a bookshelf over his workbench. “Kittens are adorable, Lin,” I said as I thumbed through the pages. “I know I’ve seen these in here before.”
“What are you looking for?” Lin asked.
I found the right page, then turned and showed it to Lin. “This. And it isn’t good news.”
“Oh yeah. That’s them all right. Toothy grin, long fingernails, fluffy little tails. See, they are adorable,” Lin said.
“Well, these adorable little guys are oviraptors,” I said.
“Ovi-what-ers?”
“Oviraptors. Egg thieves,” I said. “And they are hungry.”
“Oh, they are NOT stealing my blue-speckled egg!” Lin said, then pushed Zip-Zap toward the door of the Fruity Stars Lab.
“I totally agree, but there are a lot of them. We�
��re going to need a plan,” I said.
Lin lifted the flap and let the sunshine in the lab with us. Bruno launched for the opening, nearly pushing her over on his way. “All right. Let’s plan, but it better include teaching those oviraptors a lesson. Eating an extra-large, blue-speckled egg that never hurt anyone ever in its entire life is just rude.”
I leaned against the workbench and scratched my chin as I thought real hard. I needed a plan, and I needed one fast. There were at least ten of the tiny-raptors, and they weren’t going to be fooled by the tiny corn-dog trick again. And Lin was right. We needed to do more than just keep them away from the egg. We needed to train them to eat something else. This wasn’t going to be the last egg in the Microterium. In fact, there was a good chance that somewhere tucked away in the swamp, or the desert canyons, or maybe even close to us in the deep weeds, there was a Microsaur sitting on her nest right now.
“Earth to Danny! We need to hurry or we won’t find these guys,” Lin said. She was sitting on Zip-Zap’s back, doing everything she could to keep the jumpy Microsaur from bolting away.
I pulled out my smartphone and launched the SpyZoom app. I tapped on the GPS tracker button and a little red dot blinked on my screen. “Don’t worry. We won’t lose them. Honk-Honk is wearing a tracker,” I said.
“Really?” Lin asked.
“Yeah. Remember? We stitched a Micro-GPS Beacon in your helmet. The very same helmet you tied to the egg,” I said.
“Oh yeah. That little thing has come in handy more than once,” Lin said.
Lin was right. The Micro-GPS Beacon had been super helpful in the Microterium. In fact, it’s how we found the place when Twiggy, a tiny-dactyl who loved to collect shiny objects, stole it from the front of Lin’s helmet before flying back to her nest. We used the tracking device on my phone to follow her to the Microterium, but after that adventure I decided to keep it out of sight so Twiggy wouldn’t steal it again. Now it was hidden away, stuffed inside the liner of Lin’s skateboarding helmet, which was currently getting a ride on Honk-Honk’s back.
Microsaurs--Tiny-Raptor Pack Attack Page 3