Barx insisted that he could help me train for the Duel of the Branch, which was a ludicrous idea. Unless I wanted to learn how to drool, there was nothing that the golden-furred fool could teach me. But then it occurred to me that there was another way in which Barx could be useful.
“So how can I help you out, good buddy?” he said.
“Just stand there.”
“And?”
“And nothing,” I said. “You’re my scratching dummy.”
A concerned look came over the boy-ogre’s face. “Isn’t that going to hurt him?” he asked.
“Don’t worry,” Barx said. “Those little kitty claws can’t hurt me.”
“Scratching dummies don’t speak,” I said. Then I attacked.
Flying Razor Slash! Swing of the Five Knives! I landed blow after blow upon the beast’s sides, but his fur was so thick, he hardly noticed. He just stood there, panting and wagging.
Then I aimed a Hammer Claw at the canine’s snout.
“Hey, not the face, Klawde,” he said.
“Oh, no? How about THIS!” I landed a slashing Strike of the Lunar Paw right on his big wet nose.
The mutt’s cry of pain quickly morphed into a howl of fury. With a purr in my heart, I struck a strategic retreat and raced up a tree.
Barx followed close at my heels, barking his moronic head off as his blunt nails scratched at the bark.
“Hey, Barx!” the boy-ogre said. “Quiet down! No one’s supposed to know you’re here!”
Barx immediately sank down on his haunches. “Sorry, Raj,” he said meekly. “It’s like the Good Dog says, Sometimes instincts get the better of intentions.”
“Why don’t you guys take a break,” the Human said. “Barx, you want to play another round of fetch?”
“You betcha,” Barx said, wagging, and the two of them departed for another part of the yard.
I was grateful, as I realized that the mutt would be of little use except as a scratching post with a heartbeat. In the Duel of the Branch, I would be fighting a far superior creature—a cat—and one who was a master at Mew-Jytzu. To properly train, I needed a different sparring partner.
CHAPTER 37
I met Newt in the library during study hall, but our project was the last thing I wanted to think about. My warlord cat and space ranger dog were practicing alien martial arts back at my house. How cool was that?
Newt, on the other hand, was finally ready to focus. Which didn’t turn out to be a good thing.
I’d basically finished the slideshow, so all I really wanted was for her to go over what I’d done and say it was fine. But she got this disgusted look on her face as she flipped through the slides.
“This is so boring,” she said. “It needs more drama.”
“I think it’s good,” I said defensively.
“I know what would make it better,” she said, taking out her phone. “This!”
She opened an app called Movie Trailer Madness and started playing a video she’d made. It was a bunch of images of Napoleon that she’d downloaded from the internet, but with a lot of dramatic panning-and-scanning, and a soundtrack. Then came Newt’s voice-over, recorded with some kind of filter that made her sound grown-up and almost scary.
“IN A WORLD . . . where all hope is lost—where TERROR REIGNED—there was one man who refused to give up. He was shorter than the rest, but he had a BIG army . . . NAPOLEON!”
Special effects on the last image of Napoleon made it look like he was burning up, and then big 3-D letters appeared and spelled out his name.
“Pretty great, right?”
I was speechless. Because I realized that I was going to fail history class.
The bell rang. “Uh, let’s talk tomorrow,” I said, grabbing my stuff and rushing out.
Back home, Barx was sitting under the big oak in the backyard, staring up at the branches, his ears forward as leaves floated down around him. I heard a terrible yowl, and then something gray and furry came hurtling out of the tree. It landed on the grass with a thud.
“Klawde!” I yelled.
“Don’t worry, Raj,” Barx said. “It’s only the catdroid.”
“Hey, little ogre!” The voice of Flooffee came out of the X2 as it got up. The catdroid’s head was at a weird angle, and one leg looked broken. I knew the X2 was just a robot, but it still looked painful. After a few whirrs and spins, though, the X2 was as good as new.
“Well, here I go again,” Flooffee said, sighing as the catdroid clawed its way back up the tree.
“It’s been like this all day,” Barx said. “Flooffee can’t go two minutes without falling.” Then Barx called up to Klawde. “If Ffangg is as bad at Mew-woo-woo as Flooffee is, you’re as good as emperor already!”
Klawde’s head poked out of the leaves. “Ffangg is a Mew-Jytzu master,” he said. “He is nothing like this clumsy fool of a minion! Flooffee doesn’t fight like a warrior—he fights like a computer engineer.”
“But I am a computer engineer,” Flooffee said. “And I flunked Mew-Jytzu at the academy for a reason. If I’m not good enough, you should get yourself a different sparring partner, O Omnipotent Meanie!”
“Hey, guys,” I said. “What about me?”
“You?” Klawde said. “You are even bigger and clumsier than the spacemutt, and your hide is far too fragile.”
“No,” I said, “what if I operated the catdroid using the VQ headset? I bet Flooffee could write the code for that in two seconds. It’d be just like a game! You know how good I am at Ninja Combat Warrior.”
“Well, you can’t be any worse at Mew-Jytzu than Flooffee,” Klawde growled.
“That’s probably true,” Barx said. “No offense, Floof.”
“None taken!” Flooffee said. “I’d way rather be writing code than falling out of a tree.”
“Get on it, then,” Klawde said.
Barx turned to me, panting. “Sounds like we’ve got time for a game of fetch!”
CHAPTER 38
Once my minion successfully connected the VQ to the catdroid, the boy-ogre took over the X2’s controls. He proved himself surprisingly adept at both operating the catdroid and learning feline martial arts. Although I had once heard the mother-ogre call his video game habit “excessive” and “unproductive,” it had clearly taught him useful skills.
Shortly before the parental Humans returned from work, Barx and the catdroid went down to the bunker to hide. After a Restorative Nap, I, too, entered the bunker and waited for the boy-ogre to bring us sustenance.
“My parents are in the living room watching a show,” he said when he at last appeared. “So just keep your voices down, okay?”
The ogre cut a delectable grilled-cheese sandwich into triangles for me, then opened a can of the foul sludge the Humans call “cat food” for the canine. For some incomprehensible reason, Barx liked it.
I had just begun to instruct the ogre in the proper execution of a Flying Razor Slash when the impudent mutt interrupted.
“Look, it’s totally great to practice your Mew-woo-woo, but as the Good Dog says, The true battle is not in the bark or bite, but the brain. I really think I could help you beat Ffangg.”
I spat in disgust. “If you think the canine brain can help defeat a seasoned Mew-Jytzu warrior, then you are even more foolish than I thought!”
“Actually, Klawde, I think Barx has a point,” the boy-ogre said. “I mean, not to bring up a sore subject or anything, but the last time you guys fought, didn’t Ffangg win?”
I hissed. “That was pure luck.”
“Listen, good buddy,” Barx said. “You and Ffangg are both Mew-Jytzu masters. You’ve both ruled Lyttyrboks, you’ve both been exiled, and now you both want to rule the universe.”
“What cat doesn’t?” I spat.
“My point,” Barx said, “is that you’re too m
uch alike. The All-Wise Council couldn’t decide between you for a reason. If you want to beat Ffangg, you have to do something different.”
“Silence, cur! You are speaking nonsense!”
But Barx was insistent. “If you can learn to think like a dog,” he said, “then you’ll know what Ffangg is thinking, but he’ll have no idea what you’re thinking.”
“Barx is right,” the boy-ogre said.
“Barx is a moron,” I said.
“Look,” Barx said, “just start by sniffing Ffangg’s—”
“NO!”
“That would certainly catch him off guard,” the boy-ogre said, nodding.
Barx also suggested that I lick Ffangg’s snout, which was almost as unthinkable. Then he told me to bite him on the tail.
“That is the first sensible thing you’ve said.”
“And after a good chomp,” the dog said, “run away as fast as you can while he chases you. It’s fun!”
“Attack and turn tail? Never!” I said. “Cats do not run. We leap! We strike! We pounce!”
“That’s exactly the problem,” Barx said. “Cats run fast to get away up a tree, but anything more than that and you start huffing and puffing. If you can build up your endurance, you can beat Ffangg.”
“Yeah!” the boy-ogre said. “That’s why our coach makes us run laps in basketball—to outlast the other team.”
As if getting advice from a canine weren’t bad enough, now the Human thought his ideas were worth my attention? This was too much.
I left the fools and took a Strategy Nap. I knew that I would never demean myself by trying to “think like a dog.”
But—stupid though the mutt and ogre were—perhaps they did have a point about physical fitness.
CHAPTER 39
It was so late by the time I got up on Sunday that my parents had already left for their weekly tennis match. I was tired from all that Mew-Jytzu, which was fun but exhausting. Even though I operated the catdroid virtually, I still had to perform the moves. Barx was also tired from playing his chasing game with Klawde. And hungry!
“Boy oh boy, this stuff is delicious!” Barx said, happily slurping up a can of Finicky Feast. “Is there more?”
“It is appalling the way you speak and eat at the same time,” Klawde said. “Your manners are even worse than an ogre’s.”
“I can’t help it!” Barx wagged his tail. “This is so good! I mean, my compliments to the chef!”
With a hiss, Klawde left the room.
I didn’t feel hungry at all—I just had a sick feeling in my stomach. My cat had a fifty-fifty chance of becoming Emperor of the Universe. While that would be awesome, I was afraid it meant that I’d no longer have a pet cat. I didn’t know where the ruler of the cosmos was supposed to live, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t in a basement in Oregon.
“Barx, do you think Klawde is going to win? I mean, for real?”
“Well, like the Good Dog says, We don’t know what the future holds. We just hope it includes a good bone.”
“But what if it’s an evil bone?” I asked. “I mean, if Klawde wins, do you think he’s going to keep acting good? I know he’s a member of GAG and everything, but spreading universal love doesn’t really seem like his thing.”
“All animals are capable of change, Raj. If Klawde says he’s turned good, then I believe him.” Barx panted happily for a moment. Then he turned serious. “But if I’m wrong, well, let’s just say that Klawde becoming Emperor is part of a larger plan.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, suddenly realizing what Barx was hinting at. “Was getting Klawde to join GAG part of the plan? Did you want him to become emperor?”
Barx’s tail began to wag. “I guess I’m not the only one here who can sniff things out.”
I was dying to ask him more, but Klawde came stomping into the kitchen, yelling something about “cargo.”
“What?”
“Where is the X2?” he demanded. “It’s not in the mutt’s ship.”
“Wait, you’re taking the X2?” I said. “Does that mean I get to come along inside of it? Virtually, I mean?”
Klawde flicked his tail. “Yes, ogre. It does. You are welcome.”
I couldn’t believe it—I was going to the Infinitude!
CHAPTER 40
Obviously, having a doppelgänger in the Infinitude could prove useful, as the members of AWESOME were now my sworn enemies. If I won the duel, they would no doubt attempt to assassinate me and install Ffangg as emperor; if I lost, they would attempt to assassinate me for the fun of it. Either way, having a stand-in to confuse them was an excellent idea.
By the time Barx piloted the craft past the Newellian Nebula, however, I had begun to regret allowing the boy-ogre access to the catdroid’s operating system, as he was unable to contain his wonder at being “inside” of a real spaceship.
“Hey, I just realized something,” the boy-ogre said. “Without the X2, my parents are going to wonder where you are, Klawde. What am I going to tell them?”
“That my location is none of their business,” I hissed.
And then, as if having the Human along wasn’t bad enough, we picked up another passenger.
Flooffee-Fyr.
“Thanks for the lift, guys,” my minion said. “Somehow Ffangg and Akorn forgot to come and get me. But, you know, I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”
“Yes, I am sure that’s exactly what it was,” I said.
“Whoa, is this a Furbugnian reactor?” Flooffee said when he saw Barx’s instrument panel. “I’ve heard about these!”
Barx’s tail wagged. “If you like that, check out this neutron battery—it connects to the antimatter conglomerator. It’s the latest in space travel technology!” Barx got up from the pilot’s seat. “Do you want to take a turn at the controls?”
“Do I?” Flooffee said excitedly.
With the lackey steering the ship, Barx turned to me. “Now, Klawde, I have a very special surprise for you.” He held up that wretched garment he’d knitted. “I made a little improvement to your sweater, good buddy!”
My eyes narrowed. “What is that strange and hideous symbol on the front?”
“I stitched it myself—it’s a peace sign!” Barx said as his tail swatted against the seat in mindless joy. “I learned about it on Earth, and I’ve made it the official symbol of GAG!”
“I am not putting that abomination on my body!”
Barx’s tail stopped wagging. “You know, Klawde, sometimes I’m not sure you’re really Good Animal material,” he said. “I sure would hate to see you get kicked out of GAG . . . and forfeit your duel thingy with Ffangg.”
I hissed. But I had no other option. I put on the sweater.
“That looks great on you, Klawde!” the boy-ogre said.
“Shut up, vile Human!” I hissed. “Minion! Fly this canine rust bucket as fast as it will go.”
“Sure thing, O Sweatered One,” Flooffee said. “Commencing hyperspeed!”
The instant I became emperor, I would find myself better—and less annoying—underlings.
CHAPTER 41
Riding in a canine spacecraft traveling a million times the speed of light was definitely one of the coolest things I had ever done—but in a weird way, it was also kind of boring. There was a lot of space in space, with long stretches of nothing to see. Plus we were still a whole day away from the Infinitude.
So I wasn’t sorry that I had to take off the VQ helmet and go to school. Well, not until I got to history class and had to deal with Newt, that is.
Since our presentations were tomorrow, Ms. McQuade gave us the whole period to work on them. When I opened our project, I saw that Newt had added a bunch of slides, but they were all about the guillotine, war, and Napoleon’s love life. And she’d deleted super-important stuff—like the dates.
&nb
sp; “And how could you take out all three slides on the Napoleonic Code?” I said.
Newt pretended to fall asleep and then wake up. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you say something about legal reform?”
“That’s like the most important thing Napoleon did,” I said. “It’s what teachers want us to know about.”
“Look, Raj, it’s a presentation,” Newt said. “If the whole class falls asleep, we’ll get a lousy grade.”
We kept arguing about what to keep and what to get rid of until we finally decided to split the presentation into two parts. That way we could each keep or take out whatever we wanted.
“I’ll do my part first,” I said. “Just can you please get rid of the movie trailer?”
“Oh, we are so keeping the trailer.” Then Newt went into movie voice. “IN A WORLD where Raj Banerjee gets a B-minus . . .”
I put on my headphones and went back to work.
The rest of the school day dragged, and when it was finally over, I ran home without waiting for Cedar and Steve. I really wanted to get back inside the spaceship! But Mom caught me in the kitchen, and she wanted to talk about my day.
“It was fine, Mom,” I said as I headed for the basement.
“Can you see if Klawde is down there?” she called. “He never came for his breakfast today.”
“Oh right,” I said. “I, uh, think he’s not feeling well.”
“It looks like he’s been losing weight, too,” Mom said. “Maybe we should take him to the vet.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine!” I called from halfway down the stairs.
When I put on the VQ helmet, I saw Barx steering the craft through a crazy-looking asteroid belt inside some kind of crystal cloud.
“Whoa, what’s this?”
“This, good buddy,” Barx said, “is the Infinitude.”
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