by Paul Tobin
Because Nate said we needed to be ready for anything. That it was impossible to predict what the Red Death Tea Society might do next. That he’d been preparing a few surprises of his own, and that I needed to be prepared as well.
So my new adventure kit had a miniature flame-thrower. And a cell phone that Nate said would work underwater, or in space, just in case. And there was a wide range of the strange pills that Nate has created, in case I ever need to do such things as turn invisible, or be able to understand a dolphin’s speech, or turn any animal into a zebra.
There was even a pill I could take to make my fingers glow bright pink if anybody was drinking tea within fifty yards.
I looked at the tea-detecting pill, and then to Nate. I could tell he was worried. Then, together, we looked at my phone, where the timer was still counting down. Nate’s predictions are uncannily accurate. I’ve grown to accept them as simple truth.
Twenty-six hours to go.
Thirteen days, six hours, and fifteen minutes after Maculte and Luria were taken into custody, Nate and I were sitting in my room, having just fired the Infinite Engine off into space.
We had ice cream. But I was far too nervous to eat.
We were watching the counter clicking down to zero.
Five seconds to go.
Nate and I hadn’t really been talking for the last half hour. We were too anxious.
Four seconds to go.
Bosper had come along with Nate, and he was chewing on the edge of one of my blankets. I’d told him to stop, but he’d kept right on chewing. Terriers are naturally nervous dogs, and the tension in the room wasn’t helping.
Three seconds to go. Melville landed next to my phone, staring at the numbers.
Two.
One.
Zero.
My phone rang.
Melville flew away from my phone as I, after a long and worried sigh, picked it up, and clicked it to speakerphone.
“Hello, Delphine,” a voice said. “And, hello, Nathan. This is Maculte. Would you care to guess what’s next?”
Acknowledgments
Even though this book was written as I sat alone in a variety of places scattered throughout Portland, Oregon, no book is ever truly written alone. There’s an army of people who inspire each and every step, and who help take the necessary next steps after the manuscript is finished. I always feel their presence next to me as I write in my cafés. Each time I finish another chapter, I can almost feel this vast crowd smiling, and hungrily eyeing the cookies next to my computer.
To Thierry Lafontaine, who probably just ADORES how much I have Nate and Delphine change their clothes, forcing him to revise his artwork.
To Cindy Loh and Brett Wright and everyone else at Bloomsbury, so many of them employed in the job of Being Better Than Paul with Grammar and Punctuation, making them a part of America’s largest workforce.
To my agent, Brooks Sherman, who is the first line of defense against my many . . . many . . . many ellipses. Take a bow, Brooks . . . you deserve it.
To Colleen Coover, who never gets annoyed when she’s trying to talk to me, but I ignore her completely because I’m writing.
To Monty Python’s Flying Circus and the Goodies and Benny Hill, three shows that taught me my great love for pure absurdity.
To my dad, Charles Tobin, who was always tinkering with this and that, taking things apart and putting them back together, and who never blamed me for my own enthusiastic hobby of taking things apart . . . even though I combined it with my utter lack of interest or ability to put them back together.
To my brother, Mike, for his childhood vow to beat up the dentist who had injected me with enough anesthetic to render me into a babbling idiot flopping about in the backseat of the car, uttering insensible pleas for us to stop and pick up some comic books on the way home.
To my mom, because she taught me the value of the long game.
To Red and Spook and Ginger. They were dogs. That meant they were friends. I’ve never shaken finer paws.
To my grandmother Steinberg, who had an obsession with garage sales and who stuffed her house with an incredible array of dubious treasures, and actual treasures, the comics and the books of my childhood. It was such a joy to dive into those rooms, like a pig in mud, except somewhat more cultured and literary. Maybe.
To Jerry and Mike and Bill, for all the times we got together in high school and played Dungeons and Dragons and other role-playing games, inadvertently teaching me how to create and tell stories, and also for the times we’d get together and craft potions and weapons gleaned from “how to be a spy” books available only from certain underground dealers. Mike, I’m sorry about that time we were making a poison in Bill’s basement and the fumes knocked you out. Bill, I’m sorry about that little rocket bomb we made that exploded on your leg.
To all the Nates and Delphines and Bospers of the world, no matter what your names might be. Go out and build a better world.
Text copyright © 2017 by Paul Tobin
Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Thierry Lafontaine
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
First published in the United States of America in March 2017 by Bloomsbury Children’s Books
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This electronic edition published in 2017 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Tobin, Paul, author. | Lafontaine, Thierry, illustrator.
Title: How to outsmart a billion robot bees / by Paul Tobin; illustrated by Thierry Lafontaine.
Description: New York: Bloomsbury, 2017. | Series: The genius factor Summary: Sixth-grade genius Nate Bannister, with his talking car Betsy and super-powered pets Bosper the Scottish terrier and Sir William the gull, teams up with his friend Delphine to stop the Red Death Tea Society from unleashing angry bees on the city of Polt.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016030008 (print) | LCCN 2016037457 (e-book)
ISBN 978-1-61963-897-6 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-1-61963-898-3 (e-book) Subjects: | CYAC: Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Science—Experiments—Fiction. | Genius—Fiction. | Bees—Fiction. | Humorous stories. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / Humorous Stories. | JUVENILE FICTION / Science & Technology.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.T6 Hom 2016 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.T6 (e-book) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016030008
ISBN: 978-1-6196-3897-6 (HB)
ISBN: 978-1-6196-3898-3 (eBook)
Book design by John Candell
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