Chapter Eleven: Objects in Motion

He wised up finally and rode the elevator all the way to the highest (and least busy) floor of DexLabs HQ available before using his ID card to commandeer the lift and head down to the subterranean levels. No egotistical men, no crazed demons, no flirty girls, no talking animals assailed him. Ben sighed, leaning against the elevator wall and letting himself relax in the peace and quiet. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted a shower. He was also expected to get his butt down to the laboratory and get his watch back. Dexter's note may not have been very long, but Ben could read between the lines and he knew his friend wanted company.

He decided to take the quick and easy route to tracking Dexter down – Ben turned into Jetray and flew a quick circuit of the lower level. No junior mad scientists were to be found, so he flew to the upper level and almost immediately came face-to-face with the object of his search. Dexter wore protective goggles over his glasses and he was covered with a fine layer of dust that turned out to be sawdust. In his arms he carried several boards.

Dexter stopped in his tracks on being confronted with an Aerophibian, but he recovered instantly and simply said, "There you are. Here. This should be running properly now."

As he spoke he set down the boards and pulled out Ben's watch from his lab coat pocket and held it out. Powering down the Omnitrix, Ben took it from him.

"Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"I know." He looked at Ben with his usual intense curiosity. "I assume the Omnitrix changes you on a genetic level and combines your DNA with that of aliens, but what happens to your clothing when you switch forms?"

Ben paused as he returned the watch to his wrist. It was a perfectly valid question, but one he had never before considered. He looked at Dexter for a moment and finally said,

"I haven't got a clue, Dex."

"How does it work?"

"I dial this, pick an alien I want to be, slam the center disk down and voila! It's hero time."

"But how does it work?"

"I dunno."

"What powers it?"

"Sorry, Dex. It came to me by mistake and it didn't have an operator's manual."

"Too bad." Dexter took his wrist and turned him this way and that, looking at the Omnitrix from all angles. "It would be an interesting read. I can tell you that whatever powers the Omnitrix will keep interfering with your watch. Lithium batteries are not complementary to its power source." There was a greedy light in his eyes, but he smiled as he released Ben's arm. He began to lean over, grimaced as his ribs complained, and knelt to pick up the boards again.

"What are you working on?" wondered Ben, bending down to help him. He grabbed two of the boards and Dexter gathered the other three.

"My idea."

"Which is?" he asked, taking another board from the smaller boy's arms before he could protest.

"Over here. Come."

"Okay, I – hey!"

Dexter turned to see Ben Tennyson gaping at the last board he held. He brandished it indignantly at the confused genius.

"What?"

"You kidnapped Plank?"

"What?" The owner of DexCorp shook his head, lost. "Make sense, Tennyson!"

"Plank! This is Plank!"

Dexter glanced at him as if he had lost his mind, and then looked at the board. A crudely painted face grinned back at him.

"Yee-es," Dexter agreed slowly, afraid to argue with the insane. "It is a plank. White pine, to be exact. Your point?"

"No, no, not a plank. This is Plank. The King of the Cul-de-Sac! His posters are all over the place! He was kidnapped!"

"Eh," Dexter managed to say in a quiet tone, eyeing Ben with pity.

Ben dug in his pockets. "I got it. I know I - ah! Here!"

Triumphantly he produced the photocopied sheet he had been given earlier in the week by the grubby little boy. "Look! Here!"

Dexter read the missing poster with an expression that could only be described as incredulous. He snatched Plank out of Ben's grasp and held it up next to the poster for comparison before looking at the older boy. "You cannot kidnap a board. How do you misspell 'and'? And what is a jawbreaker?"

"It's candy. How did you get your hands on Plank?"

"It was left in the elevator when I came down here last week. I threw it in the pile for recycling but it's the length I need for my current project."

"What? No! You can't experiment on him! We gotta give this back to that kid . . . what was his name?"

"Jonny," was the derisive reply as Dexter read the contact information. "And I need it."

"What are you going to do to him?"

"It, Ben. It's an it. And I'm going to plane it dow-"

Ben snatched Plank away and held him high and safe over his head. "You can't! This is some poor kid's friend!"

Hands on his hips, Dexter glared. "Yes, I can. I'm a scientist. You cannot be friends with a piece of wood."

"The kid was frantic. It's probably his only friend! Come on, Dex, how about a little sympathy? Don't you have any imagination?"

"I have plenty of imagination, thank you; I just don't attribute human feelings to inanimate objects."

"You can't tell me you don't have another board!"

"As a matter of fact, no. There's very little wood in here. I don't like utilizing organic building materials. They're too random to be relied upon."

"So why are you so keen on hacking up Plank?"

"I am not going to pour expensive materials into a first-round prototype that might not work if I can make it out of something disposable and easily replaced."

"Well . . . make it smaller. Or patch it with something else. No killing Plank."

Dexter groaned, smacking a hand to his head and sending up a cloud of dust.

"What are you making, anyway?"

A glint of arrogance and self-satisfaction showed in Dexter's eyes. "This way."

He grabbed the boards and followed Dexter deeper into the laboratory. Catching up, he stole a glance at the boy. Dexter looked completely run down. He was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes and he kept his forearm braced close against his ribs.

"You feeling okay?" he asked softly.

"No."

"It wasn't the chili fries, was it?"

Dexter snorted faintly. "No."

"Good."

"It was the smoothie."

"Liar. Did you get any sleep?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Making that."

Ben followed his pointing finger. A board about the size and shape of a snowboard was propped against a work table amidst a remarkable clutter of equipment and tools. The ends were rounded and upon closer inspection, Ben saw that it was about four inches thick and made of highly polished wood. On the table behind it was the start of a second, smaller board.

"What is it?"

"Lay it on the floor. No, dark side down."

Ben obeyed, surprised at the thing's weight.

"Stand on it. In the center."

Feeling a little silly, Ben stuffed Plank under his arm and obeyed.

"By your right foot is a small switch. Don't fall."

He hit the switch. The board emitted a faint hum and slowly, gently lifted into the air. It rose eight inches and hovered in place.

"Awww, sweet!" Ben exclaimed, looking as if Christmas had come early. "How does it move?"

"Lean forward slightly."

He shifted his weight. The board glided smoothly forward a few feet. He straightened and it stopped. Leaning back, the board moved in reverse and he bumped into the work bench. Ben laughed aloud.

"I gotta get one!"

"Well without that stupid plank that you want to get into a witness protection program, the project may never be finished."

"Have you tried it?" wondered Ben, ignoring his complaints. He leaned forward and shifted his feet. The board banked in a neat arc around Dexter, who turned in a circle to follow his progress.

"Of course. I don't weigh enough for this particular unit to work well for me. I was going to make a scaled-down version until I was accused of being a kidnapper."

He laughed again, leaning forward and zooming along at a respectable clip. "We'll get you another board, Dex!" He let out a happy yelp as he swerved to avoid the wall. "This is brilliant!"

"I know," Dexter said quietly, smiling as he watched.

"How does it work?"

"I'll tell you that when you can tell me how the Omnitrix works!"

"Don't hold your breath!"

"You'll notice I'm not."

He laughed again, growing bolder and taking the board further afield.

"Don't dent the Megabot!" yelled Dexter as Ben's echoing whoops could be heard from the darkened lab. "The battery won't last much-"

There came a yelp and a thud.

"-longer," finished Dexter, shaking his head. He swapped the goggles for his usual glasses, grabbed a few tools and another battery pack, and set out in search of his friend. He found Ben not far from the blast doors, sitting on the floor, nursing a bumped knee, and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and the world. Plank was propped against the wall to watch the proceedings.

"Are you hurt?" asked Dexter, kneeling over his invention. He hit the switch to turn it off and began unscrewing the control panel to change the batteries.

"Naa," said Ben. He grinned. "This thing is awesome, Dex."

"I thought you'd like it. There're quite a few bugs to work out of it, but that's what I have my development department for."

"How fast can it go?"

He found a few more screws that needed tightening. "I don't know yet. That will depend upon a lot of factors and the board's ultimate intended use."

"Let's find out!"

"No."

"Dexter!"

"Benjamin."

"Once around the parking lot!"

"No."

"Okay, twice!"

Dexter sighed and carried on tinkering.

Ben was having too much fun being annoying to stop now. "Don't you want to see what it can do?"

"I know what it can do. I built it."

"Then show off!"

There was an extended pause. Those blue eyes studied him intently. Finally Dexter asked, "What time is it?"

"According to my newly fixed and fully functional timepiece, it's nine thirty-four in the p.m."

Dexter glared. "When Mr. Green gets irate, I'm blaming you."

He laughed, climbing to his feet and offering Dexter a hand up. "Great! You call Green and I've got the board. Boards," he corrected.

"What about my former hostage?" grumbled Dexter, waving his hand at Plank.

Ben grinned at the smiling two-by-four. "I dunno, Dex, I think His Majesty is warming up to you. I doubt he'll press charges."

Dexter rolled his eyes. "Such a burden off my shoulders. I'm not paying for therapy when you tell me it has Stockholm syndrome." With a sigh he activated his communicator. "Mr. Green? With your permission, sir, I would like to step outside for a few minutes."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

He understood Dexter's reluctance to go out a little while later – it took twenty minutes to pull some extra security officers off of other posts and send them to cover the employee parking lot. Mr. Green met them in the lab to distract his student while Security moved guards about and thanked both boys for contacting him. The tall green demon was extremely pleased with Dexter's newest project and he was as surprised as Ben had been to see Plank.

"Dexter kidnapped him," Ben immediately volunteered, throwing the scientist right under the bus.

"It was abandoned property," declared Dexter, folding his arms and indulging in a fit of superiority. "And you've managed to rival my sister for projects ruined in a week. Mr. Green, you will please see to it that this . . . thing is returned to its rightful owner."

"I'll be happy to," said Green, smiling at the King of the Cul-de-Sac. "At least now we can get rid of all those posters."

The security guards hung back at a discreet distance, allowing their employer and his friend what privacy they could as Ben happily set the hoverboard on the tarmac in the DexLabs employee parking lot.

"Don't try to take it any higher than it's going now," said Dexter. "The gyroscopic control is not reliable more than twenty inches above the ground."

"No going over cars, then?"

"No!"

Ben chuckled and turned on the board. The familiar hum filled the air as the board rose a foot into the air.

"Clock me!" cried Ben, hopping on and leaning far forward.

"Don't tempt me," muttered the scientist.

The board shot away through the nearly-empty lot, Ben's happy shouts echoing through the night. He circled once, whipping past Dexter's spot with a yell of, "Windsurfing, Dex!" The younger boy hit the timer on his communicator to see how long it took to make a circuit. To his annoyance, Ben swerved around cars and poles and bushes in such an erratic path that timing him was useless.

He heard a familiar rush of air overhead, rather like a large bird. He looked up, scanning the sky, but there was nothing to see. The night was cloudy and he could smell rain on the breeze.

"Sir?" wondered Sgt. Morton, drawing closer.

Dexter knew better than to dismiss anything out of the ordinary. "I thought I heard - Tennyson! Slow down! Slow- idiot."

There was a crunch followed by sudden silence as Ben went sailing into a bush. Instantly the board stopped and hovered in place. The closest security guards jogged forward to help him up and compliment him on his slick self-defense moves against shrubberies.

"Make sure he's not hurt, Morton," asked Dexter with a sigh, slowly moving toward his downed friend. He could hear Ben talking, so he couldn't be -

That rushing sound again, this time closer and from behind him. He paused, and then turned around to see.

A slim figure stood in the spot he and Morton had just left beyond the bright ring cast by the light pole. Dexter recognized that outline instantly - the stiff bow and graceful lines and long, sweeping hair of his adopted sister brought an immediate smile to his face. Wondering what she was doing back here and why she hadn't called and where the rest of the family was, Dexter reversed his direction and walked back.

"Blossom! What are you -?"

She whipped around, moving into the light, and Dexter stopped dead in his tracks. He fell back a step as he took in her appearance.

Green skin. No mouth. Glowing red eyes.

Fusion.