The Gravity Keeper

by Michael Reisman

  Simon took a deep breath. “Here’s the real last stand, then.”

  Alysha threw the last of her metal—two pennies—filled with her remaining electrical charge. They hit the ground in front of Sirabetta and the prone Veenie, exploding and kicking up a cloud of dirt that temporarily blinded Sirabetta.

  Simon pointed to Alysha’s and Owen’s feet as a signal and poured all his concentration into one last use of friction. The three friends streaked forward, their feet gliding smoothly over the trail, and got ready to strike with the only weapons they had left. Owen gripped the two branch halves he’d used to clobber Veenie, Simon cocked his backpack (with a few textbooks and the Book inside), and Alysha balled up her fists. They came from three sides in the hope that one would get in a lucky shot.

  Sirabetta coughed and waved at the dust around her enough to see the kids sliding toward her. She read her air pressure formula; the tattoo glowed bright blue as the air exploded, tossing her attackers away like they were toys.

  Owen got hit hardest. He was flung up into the air and landed with an audible thud in the crater behind Sirabetta.

  Alysha, moving in from the right, was thrown straight back into the woods. She tore through several bushes before crashing into a tree trunk. She collapsed to the ground and lay on the forest floor, unmoving.

  Simon, coming in from the left side, was flung up into the trees. He plowed through several small branches and grabbed hold of a thick tree limb before he could fall back down.

  “And then there was one.” Sirabetta exhaled. “That was good. A noble effort.” She grimaced and looked up at Simon. “What next? Do I have to torture you? You’ve hurt me, you’ve blocked some of my tattoos, but I have plenty left. More than enough to keep you in agony for hours. But you know it hurts me every time. And I don’t want to do any of this. Be reasonable, Simon. Let’s take the easy road.”

  Simon didn’t answer; it took all his fading strength to cling to that tree limb.

  Sirabetta looked at her right shoulder, reading the yellow formula for deforestation. The tree limb withered and finally disintegrated. Simon fell eight feet to the dirt floor and cried out as he landed badly on his left arm.

  Simon lay moaning while Sirabetta approached. She looked down at him and smirked. “And this is my prize.” She reached for Simon’s backpack.

  A loud burst of birdsong filled the air. Sirabetta whirled around as a flock of sparrows zipped through the trees and surged toward her. “Oh, what now?” she snarled.

  One bird’s chirp, louder than the others’, sounded mysteriously like “Charge!” The birds dive-bombed Sirabetta, wildly pecking, clawing, and flapping at her. (Had Owen been able to see, he would have been satisfied to know it very much resembled Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.) Sirabetta was driven back from Simon, shrieking in pain every time a claw or beak hit.

  After several moments of uselessly smacking at her avian assailants, Sirabetta ducked down and covered her head. Her muffled words were barely audible, but the result was clear. A beach-ball-size sphere of multicolored light sprang into existence above her and tossed brilliantly hued rays in every direction.

  The birds twittered in confusion, blinded by the raging rainbow. Most of them collided with one another, the trees, or the ground. Sirabetta repeated her air pressure formula, and the explosion threw the remaining sparrows in every direction.

  One last bird dropped to the dirt, blurred, and transformed into Flangelo. He moaned in pain and then was silent.

  Sirabetta shrieked with fury and pain as she examined the damage. Her rubber wet suit was torn in many places, and several more tattoos had been pecked beyond recognition. One of them was her painkiller tattoo. She staggered over to Simon. Her voice was ragged and hoarse. “For this pain, boy, you should suffer. But first…” Once more, she bent over to his backpack.

  “Ahhh!” she suddenly squealed.

  Simon wasn’t ready to give up; though it hurt to even move, he had lurched forward and clamped his teeth onto her ankle.

  Sirabetta stamped at Simon, kicking him with her other bare foot until he let go and lay stunned. “Don’t you know it’s over? Don’t you know you’ve lost?” She looked along her arms, choosing from the remaining tattoos. “Then let me make it clear.” She read a tattoo on her left wrist, and it glowed a sickly bright green.

  Simon curled into a ball, holding his stomach with his one good arm. His belly quivered as if he’d eaten five chili dogs with onions and ridden the fastest looping roller coaster in the world. Twice. His internal heaving increased, and a vile taste rose up his throat. He squirmed as a nauseated feeling tore him from the inside out, leaving him paralyzed with that about-to-throw-up sensation.

  “That’s another from Biology,” Sirabetta said. “Utter nausea. You can’t concentrate enough to use a formula if you’re trying not to vomit.” She grimaced, fighting her own pain; the strain from her tattoos and injuries was clearly wearing her down.

  For a moment, the woods were quiet but for the sound of Simon gagging. Sirabetta gritted her teeth. “I can handle this. I can finish what I started.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, then exhaled. “I have earned this.”

  She pulled the Teacher’s Edition out from Simon’s backpack. “Hello, gorgeous. Meet your new master.”

  The Book shuddered in her grasp, as if trying to break free. “Fight it all you want, you rebellious tome,” Sirabetta said. “You can’t resist me.” She revealed a multicolored spiral tattooed into her other palm. “This says you can’t.”

  (I gasped—that was the mark of the Board of Administration! How could she have gotten a tattoo from them?)

  Sirabetta nodded to Simon. “Don’t worry, boy, this tattoo works independently from the others; it won’t interrupt your anguish.”

  Sirabetta turned away from Simon and took a few steps as she touched her tattooed palm to the Teacher’s Edition’s clasp. The metal sprang open the instant her palm made contact, and the Book stopped struggling.

  Sirabetta held it over her head. “It worked. They said it would, and it did. At the risk of sounding cliché”—she laughed with delirious glee—“at last! At last it is mine!”

  Several feet from Sirabetta, Simon stopped trying to fight the nausea. Using his good arm, he stuck a finger down his throat and made himself throw up. He gasped for air and, for just a few seconds, was free from the formula.

  Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of. He didn’t know what would happen, but it was his last chance, and he took it. He spoke the words of his third formula—space-time—and aimed it at Sirabetta.

  Sirabetta felt the effect at once. “What…what are you doing to me?” She screamed but was unable to move. She stood frozen, still holding the Teacher’s Edition above her head. Her entire body began to ripple, as if made of water. “What is this? WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

  As she screamed, her voice rose higher and higher and her body shuddered. There was a burst of bright white light and the air was filled with the dusty smell of space-time bending. There was no sound, though. Whatever was happening didn’t involve any air ripping.

  Within seconds, the light faded. Where there had been a beautiful woman of thirty or so years, there was now a pretty girl about Alysha’s age. Simon had reversed the flow of time around Sirabetta!

  Reeling from the shocking transformation, Sirabetta had no time to react as Alysha burst from the trees. She shouted and tackled Sirabetta, slamming the tattooed girl to the ground. The Teacher’s Edition snapped shut and hovered in the air as Alysha tried to pin Sirabetta down.

  “Get off me!” Sirabetta yelled. She managed to get free and tossed Alysha aside. Sirabetta quickly looked down at her tattoos and gasped—when her arms and legs shrank down, many of her formulas had run together. They were useless.

  She glanced up at Alysha, who had balled her hands into fists. Though exhausted, the girl was ready to fight. Sirabetta looked at her own hands and saw the multicolored spiral—the mark of the Board of Admi
nistration—that would let her control the Book.

  It, too, had been affected by her younger body—it now spread beyond her palm, missing parts where her fingers spread. It no longer glowed; it was ruined. Alysha, Simon, and Sirabetta all looked up at the Book, which wasn’t just hovering anymore. It was vibrating, shaking in midair, as if it was overcome with fury.

  Only Simon heard the noise, like a mental snarl from the Book as it surged forward, streaking down and smacking into Sirabetta on the head. She collapsed, unconscious.

  The Book floated gently over to where Simon lay and came to a rest at his side. “Nice shot,” Simon said in a pained but steady voice. He wiped his mouth, cleaned his good hand on his shirt, and sniffed. “Anybody else smell a vacuum cleaner bag?”

  The Breeze blew gently, dispersing that stink and reviving the kids a little. Alysha sighed with relief and looked around. “Hey, where’s Owen?”

  “Did we win?” a ragged voice called out from the nearby crater.

  Owen’s head appeared over the lip of the large hole; he was struggling to pull himself out. “You know, this really-really-really hurts.”

  Simon and Alysha laughed and broke into coughing fits. Then Simon nodded. “It’s over. We did it. We won.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that, lad.”

  Simon, Alysha, and Owen turned and stared in silent woe. There, standing in the clearing, were Willoughby Wanderby, Loisana Belane, Robertitus Charlsus, Myarina Myashah, and most of the rest of the Order of Physics.

  CHAPTER 40

  TOO MANY KEEPERS

  Simon was too weary to sit up, much less stand, so he spoke as loudly as he could from where he lay. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Not what we think?” Wanderby demanded. “What do you call that, lad?” He pointed at the Book. “That’s what I call incriminating evidence. And you’re not just going to run laps as punishment, I promise you.”

  Owen pulled himself a bit farther over the crater’s edge. “That’s not fair! We only found it. Veenie and Sirabetta tried to steal it!”

  Alysha lacked the strength to yell, but she managed to speak clearly. “Yeah, and we saved it from them. You should be thanking us!”

  Wanderby stared at the unconscious girl in the black wet suit. When he saw the tattoos on her arms and legs, his face went pale. Then, recovering, he scowled. “Sira-who? Enough lies, lass. You may have held off four of us before, but now you’ve got all of us to face. You’re out of the game.”

  Simon shook his head. “No way. It’s not yours. Book, get out of here! Save yourself. Bring help if you can!”

  The Teacher’s Edition rose several inches from the ground. It had received a command from its Keeper and, free from Sirabetta’s control, could act. Once again, the air tore open, and with a POOF, the Book disappeared.

  A collective gasp rose from the gathered Physics members. “What have you done?” Wanderby roared. “Where’s the Book?”

  Simon hadn’t done anything; he was too tired to use his space-time formula. But he believed the Book was safe.

  Alysha reached over and squeezed Simon’s hand. “We almost made it.”

  Simon mustered a smile. “It was a good adventure, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it would be nicer if we got to live,” Owen said; he’d finally climbed onto the path but was too tired to move any farther.

  The air between the kids and the Order of Physics rippled and tore, making a very familiar noise, as the air had to put up with yet another hole opening within it. The Teacher’s Edition reappeared, floating in midair and still glowing blue. But this time, it wasn’t alone.

  There were numerous Books floating near it, each with different-colored covers. A person appeared beneath each Book.

  (I gasped with recognition as I looked from one startled person to the next—these were no ordinary people. This was the entire Council of Sciences!)

  The Keepers were as stunned by their sudden transportation as everyone else.

  Dr. Solomonder Smithodrome, a bearded man wearing a brown corduroy suit, was lying down…two feet off the ground, as if he’d been on a couch before being transported. He fell to the dirt with a thud.

  Short, neatly dressed, bespectacled Gilio Skidowsa was bent over with a bag of seeds in his gloved hands, as if he’d been in the midst of gardening.

  All the Council members (even the legendary, silver-haired Math League Keeper Skyrena McSteiner) were there, ripped from whatever activity they’d been in the midst of before Simon’s Teacher’s Edition summoned them. Skyrena was poised with a piece of chalk in hand, as if interrupted while writing on a chalkboard. She looked around, tugged at her odd conical hat. “Observation: displacement via transverse axis, d = ? et. Reference: Teacher’s Edition of Physics.” Her floating red Book tilted forward, as if agreeing with her.

  For a moment, everyone stared at black-mustached Allobero Foreedaman, the Keeper of the Order of Astronomy; he wore only shiny silver underpants. Seeing everyone’s stares, he shrugged. “What? I was orbiting Mercury, getting a solar tan.” He snapped his fingers and mumbled a command; in response, a tiny portal appeared in the air, spitting out silvery pants and a black, heavy-metal band T-shirt. They moved on their own, dressing Allobero as he stood with arms outstretched.

  Wanderby placed his hands on his hips. “Just who in Galileo’s name are you people and what are you doing in our woods?”

  Gilio looked around the forest. “Dunkerhook Woods. It’s been a while.” He turned to Wanderby. “We are the Council of Sciences,” he said quietly but firmly. “Stop blustering and let us speak to Ralfagon.”

  The members of the Order of Physics tensed. Most had never met the Council; they were very suspicious after the last Physics meeting.

  Simon saw the assembled Physics members on one side and the various other Keepers on the other and shuddered at the thought of a fight between the most powerful beings in the universe, with Alysha, Owen, and him in the middle.

  “Wait!” he shouted with his last strength. “I think I can explain.”

  Gilio looked down at the kids, as if noticing them for the first time. He adjusted his eyeglasses. “Indeed?”

  “We don’t listen to the enemy!” Wanderby shouted.

  The Teacher’s Edition of Physics swooped away from the other Books and hovered protectively over Simon, Owen, and Alysha. It flashed a bright blue light, and in response the other Books flashed their own identifying colors.

  Immediately, the Keepers put hands to their heads, as if concentrating. Their Books were communicating with them.

  Gilio leaned toward Simon. “That’s quite a story the Books have told, but we’ll need proof. Take me to Ralfagon so I can heal him.”

  Loisana held up a hand. “Wait…what’s going on here? As far as we know, these children stole our Book and hospitalized Ralfagon.”

  Simon pointed at the unconscious Mermon and youthful Sirabetta. “It wasn’t us! It was them—Mermon Veenie and Sirabetta!”

  “Veenie, I could believe,” Loisana said, “but I’ve never heard of this Sirabetta.”

  Solomonder stepped forward. “Vas?” he said with an Austrian accent. “Pardon me, but did you say ‘Sirabetta’? This girl is mein Sara Beth?” He walked over to her unmoving form and looked at her face. Then he rose and nodded. “Ja, it is true; I can barely tell like this, but it is she.”

  Wanderby grew paler and jittery. “No, this isn’t right. You’re all menaces. Yes, that’s it! You’re all against us!”

  Gilio cleaned his glasses on his sweater. “And they say I’m a conspiracy nut.”

  “Book,” Simon called out, “can you bring Ralfagon here?”

  The Teacher’s Edition of Physics tipped forward, as if to nod, then disappeared in a flash and a POOF. It reappeared seconds later with a loud tearing of air. A hospital bed with Ralfagon, unmoving atop it, materialized a few feet away.

  Eldonna was sitting on a padded chair that materialized next to the bed. She leapt to her feet. “What?
Who? Where?” she sputtered.

  Allobero chuckled. “Someone stop her before she gets to ‘how’ or ‘why.’”

  Gilio stepped forward and looked her in the eyes; he was the exact height as short, stout Eldonna. “Pardon me, my dear. My name is Gilio Skidowsa.” He smoothed his sweater and smiled. “I’m the Keeper of the Order of Biology.” He cleared his throat. “I believe I can be of some service to Ralfagon.”

  Eldonna quickly collected herself. “Gilio of Biology? Yes, Ralfagon spoke of you often. You won’t hurt him?”

  “I’d never hurt him; he owes me money from our last Council poker game.”

  Gilio walked over to the pristine white hospital bed and placed a hand on Ralfagon’s forehead. “Dislocated shoulder, fractured hip, cracked ribs, moderate concussion…and an ingrown toenail. No problem.” He whispered a formula, and Ralfagon glowed bright green for a moment. “Done.”

  Ralfagon sat up, put one hand to his stomach and the other to his head, and gazed into Gilio’s eyes. He smiled broadly, clapped a hand on Gilio’s shoulder, and said, “And just who are you?”

  CHAPTER 41

  THE FATE OF OUR HEROES

  Loisana groaned. “Oh no! He has amnesia?”

  Gilio sighed. “How convenient. You owe me money, old man!”

  Skyrena clapped. “Demonstratum: onustus domus, unum supra octos.” Five playing cards, three aces and two eights, appeared in midair briefly.

  Ralfagon’s eyes brightened. “Gilio! Good to see you again.” He looked around. “Sorry, friend, but I don’t have my wallet with me.” He looked down. “Or my pants, apparently.” He looked up and saw the Teacher’s Edition of Physics hovering by Simon. “Something’s different with my Book. Er, that is my Book, isn’t it?”

  “There’s so much to explain,” Simon said. He looked at the Teacher’s Edition. “Can you do it quickly?”

  The Book tilted in a nod and flashed blue. Ralfagon put a hand to his head again. “Oh, my. You traveled back in time to the Monday before my attack to find this boy? When I told you to go anywhere or anywhen, I didn’t think you’d take me so literally.” He looked at Simon. “You’ve had a busy week, haven’t you?”