The Villain Virus

“So they are no longer a threat,” he said proudly. “I accomplished something that my boss never could. I knew he should have put me in charge.”

“And now the next part of your plan can begin,” she said.

“Yes,” he said quietly. What was the next part of the plan again?

“Invading their headquarters!”

“Oh, yes, invading the headquarters! We need to do that right away.”

“Imagine the amount of technology you will have access to then,” Miss Information said. “I’ll be—I mean, you will be unstoppable.”

The Antagonist gri

“They’re at the middle school,” Miss Information told him.

“Like I suspected,” he cried, even though he hadn’t suspected it. But that was just a tiny detail now. “Sometimes, my flower, I think you are as diabolically intelligent as I am.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Now you can crush once and for all the last obstacle between you and world domination. Apparently, there’s only one active agent left and just a handful of adults in supporting roles, and most of them are scientists so they probably have the combined strength of a baby bu

“The pilot, the one that wears a smock—we have to worry about him,” he said.

“It’s just a matter of time before he’s sick, too, darling,” she purred. “Soon, they will all be overcome with evil and your empire will be unstoppable.”

The Antagonist smiled beneath his mask. The sound of having an unstoppable evil empire and being at the height of his career sounded awfully good. But wait: Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be worried about when he became the most powerful villain in the world? Wasn’t it something she had said to him?

Just then the doorbell rang.

“That must be the Chinese food,” Miss Information said. “I hope they put in extra packets of duck sauce.”

“If they didn’t, I will strap the delivery boy to a rocket and shoot it into space,” he said.

“Darling, you make me feel like a princess,” Miss Information said.

The Antagonist opened the door. There he found a young man holding a sack of food.

“Did you order the chicken lo mein?” the deliveryman asked.

The Antagonist nodded and took the sack. He opened it and took a peek.

“Honey, I’ve got bad news—no duck sauce,” he said.

Miss Information growled. “I’ll go fuel up the rocket.”

The Playground was in disarray. Only fifteen scientists remained from the fifty who had been well that morning. The survivors looked exhausted. Brand guessed they were working around the clock. They were still experimenting on Heathcliff’s nanobytes, and tables had been moved aside to make space for the various ray guns and doomsday devices the team had seized from the villains.

The lunch lady had returned to the Playground in a pair of his own handcuffs. “I feel the fever, boss,” he admitted. “I knew if I waited, I would cause you trouble. Put me in a cell and keep working.”

With his team and the entire world falling apart, Brand could do nothing but stand on the catwalk above Heathcliff’s head and look down at the source of all the world’s misery. He and the sleeping head were all alone. The remaining staff were busy working on a cure. All of the systems that kept the boy unconscious were ru

Benjamin zipped into the room. “Sir, may I be of some assistance?”

Brand sighed. “Not unless you can save the world.”

“I’m afraid I’m only a superintelligent, flying computer, sir. Not a miracle worker,” Benjamin said. He paused, then continued, “I’ve received word from the school’s administrative office about Julio. Apparently, Agent Flinch is being expelled.”

Twenty minutes later, Agent Brand met Flinch in the hallway outside of Principal Dove’s office. He seemed more agitated than usual.

“So this is really happening?” Flinch said. “I’m not having some sort of mental breakdown? I’m a secret agent and have superpowers, and they’re tossing me out of school!”

“Flinch, please relax,” Brand said.

“Relax?” he cried. “How am I supposed to relax?”

Brand turned the knob on Flinch’s harness, which seemed to calm the boy. “I assure you that you are not going to be expelled,” he said, pinching his nose for the com-link. “Ms. Holiday, this is my fifth attempt to reach you. I need your assistance with the principal.”

Ms. Holiday hadn’t replied to any of his calls. He worried she was sick, but with a limited staff it was also possible that the com-link was down and there was no one to repair it. He hoped it was just a glitch. He didn’t want to think about what he would have to do if she got the virus. What if she attacked him? How could he fight someone he cared so much about?

“We’re going to deal with this,” Brand said as he led the boy to Principal Dove’s office. He knocked and was invited to enter.

Ms. Dove sat behind her desk. Her big, bulky body and huge eyes reminded Brand of a barn owl. A hungry barn owl. He and Flinch probably looked like fat mice.

“What can I help you folks with today?” the principal asked with a beaming smile.

“We’ve come to speak to you about Flin—I mean, Julio,” Agent Brand said.

Ms. Dove sat back in her chair. “About his expulsion.”

Brand nodded.

“I expected his parents to want to discuss this, Mr. Brand. How unusual that the school’s janitor has come to his defense,” the principal said as she peered over her desk at him.

“Julio lives with his grandmother, and at the moment she is quite ill,” he replied. “I’ve known Julio for a long time. I worked at Nathan Hale Elementary before I came here. I’ve always found him to be an incredibly respectful and cheerful young man, so I’ve come to vouch for him.”

“Well, in my experience, children change, Mr. Brand,” the principal said. “The summer between fifth and sixth grade can transform a sweet and helpful little lovebird into a cranky old pelican.”

“I’ve seen that myself,” Brand said. “I’ve had to scrub this school from top to bottom every day because some of these formerly sweet children are tearing this place apart. But Julio is not one of them. In this case I think we have a little less pelican and more a situation of adjustment and growing pains. Sometimes a little birdie needs time to get used to his new nest. Isn’t that right, Ms. Dove?”

Ms. Dove nodded. “That’s true. But I’ve seen a lot of birdies, Mr. Brand. I’m pretty good at picking out the sweet ones from the bullies.”

“Bullies!” Flinch exclaimed.

“I hardly think Julio is a bully,” Brand said.

“Mr. Brand, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I know my birds. I would never presume to tell you about mops and cleaners,” Ms. Dove said with a smile. “I’m afraid my mind is made up. This is Mr. Escala’s last day here at Thomas Knowlton Middle School.”