In the girls' washroom, Lisa asked Beat the question that had burned in her mind since first seeing the rabbit-aardvark girl.
"Are they…real?"
With a wordless grin, Beat pulled out her neckline and allowed Lisa to see what was concealed behind her red dress.
"Oh, my Buddha," said Lisa in wonder. "They are real."
"Yes," said Beat with a nod. "Unfortunately, I'm too young to do anything with them."
"I've seen all kinds of things in Springfield," Lisa mused. "A crazy lady who throws cats at everyone who passes by, an old man who's been killed a dozen times, and twin girls who keep switching between my age and Bart's age. But I've never seen a little girl…develop early. What's it like?"
"Frustrating," Beat replied. "The boys stare at me, the girls make fun of me, and my mum has to remind me every morning to strap on my bloody training bra."
"Geez, that's tough," said Lisa sympathetically. "But you should see what I have to put up with as the class brain."
Beat only sighed.
The other kids were enjoying morning recess in the playground or the verdant lawns that surrounded the school building. Muffy, sitting on a bench in the center court and frowning miserably, was one of the few exceptions.
Binky noticed her sad expression and asked, "What's the matter, Muffy?"
"I don't want to talk about it," the monkey girl grumbled.
Binky shrugged and walked away, soon replaced by the concerned George. "What's wrong, Muffy?" he inquired.
Again Muffy responded with, "I don't want to talk about it."
Shortly after George had gone, Van rolled up to her in his motorized wheelchair. "What's eating you, Muffy?"
Muffy gave him a doleful look. "I'll tell you," she said, "since you're an honorary girl."
"I'm all ears," said Van, who was a duck and had no visible ears.
Muffy's eyes misted up. "My limo is dead," she said plaintively.
"Dead?" said Van incredulously. "What happened? Did the engine blow up?"
Muffy shook her head. "It drowned."
Van's eyes widened.
"My parents took me to the opera in Crown City," Muffy recounted. "Rodney Gilfrey was playing the lead in I Pagliacci. That's Italian for I, Clown. It was about a clown who killed his wife because she cheated on…uh, some kind of game, and he was a really, really bad sport. There was another opera after that, a short one. It was already over when I woke up. Then we went back to the parking garage, and there was water pouring down the street, and the policemen wouldn't let us go to our car because the garage was flooded." Tears began to trickle down Muffy's cheeks. "My dad was really angry. He said a lot of soap words. We had to stay the night at a hotel, because the limo was floating around in the water with a bunch of other cars."
Van lowered his head. "Gosh, Muffy, I'm sorry."
"Don't ever drown, Van," said Muffy, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's a horrible way to die."
"I'm a duck, Muffy," Van reminded her.
"My dad says he'll buy a new limo," Muffy went on. "But it won't be the same. It'll be like riding around in a stranger."
"Cars die, Muffy," said Van comfortingly. "It happens."
"I know," said Muffy, sniffling. "But why did it have to happen to my car?"
Not far away, Fern and Arthur were engaged in a fervent debate.
"You can't be serious," said Fern. "Mrs. McGrady is totally off her rocker. Remember when she mixed the quarters into the brownies two years ago? You were almost sent to jail because of her."
"She's a good cook," said Arthur.
"So's your dad," said Fern.
"My dad's been really busy ever since the Chanels hired him," Arthur countered. "Sure, he'll cater the party for free if I ask him, but he shouldn't have to work so hard."
"Fine," said Fern, throwing up her hands. "When we all get sick from quarter poisoning, you'll be the one who gets sued."
"Fine," said Arthur flatly.
Having concluded that political power had made Arthur unreasonable, Fern marched away. She was almost to the school's side entrance when Professor Frink approached her.
"Excuse me, little fluffy girl," he said in an excited tone. "You look like an inquisitive child individual, and I would like to invite you to assist me in the performance of a scientific experiment, ng'hoy."
Fern smiled. "That sounds like fun, Professor, but isn't Lisa Simpson your assistant?"
"Indeed she is," said Frink, straightening his bowtie. "However, as glavin would have it, she is currently frolicking with her peers, and is unable to help."
"I'd love to," said Fern eagerly.
"Then follow me," said Frink.
He led Fern to the parking lot on the west side of the school, whereon sat a pink sedan with a solar panel and satellite dish bolted to the top. "Now be a good dog," he instructed her, "and fetch me the control console from the trunk of my car."
"What does it look like?" asked Fern.
"It's patterned after the console used by Captain Kirk to deactivate the Klingon doomsday device in episode 4.11 of the original Star Trek series, which you will surely agree is the best series in the franchise so far."
Fern gave him a glazed look.
"It's the only item in the trunk," Frink told her.
Armed with this knowledge, Fern strolled to the back of the pink vehicle and found that the trunk had already been opened. The inside, however, was completely bare.
"Er, Professor," she began, "there's nothing in the…"
As she spoke, a pair of strong hands grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the pavement. "Professor!" she cried out, but Frink only stood still and grinned.
She twisted her head in an attempt to see the face of the attacker who was shoving her into the trunk, but there appeared to be no one behind her. By the time she could manage a scream, the lid was already closing, cutting off the light of the sun.
"Help! Help me!" she cried through the darkness, pounding against the metal walls. Sudden vibrations told her that the engine was starting. There was little noise, no doubt due to the fact that Frink's car was solar-powered.
The car pulled out of the school lot as Fern lay helpless in the trunk, wondering what strange fate would come upon her. She was afraid, but not as much as when Mansch's henchmen had kidnapped her several weeks earlier. Why would Professor Frink of all people want to hurt me? she thought. Could this be part of the experiment he was talking about?
The car traveled several blocks, and Fern became more worried about missing gym class than about her unexplained abduction.
More than two hundred miles away, a bedraggled-looking bear boy stepped off a city bus and shuffled into a convenience store. So hungry was he that even the stale pastries in the display case tempted him. As he browsed the merchandise, a dark-skinned Indian man appeared behind the counter.
"May I help you, little boy?" said Apu Nahasapeemapetilon.
Alan moved down the aisle, pretending not to have heard.
"There is a cold wind today," Apu told him. "You should put on a sweater."
The boy picked up a small bag of tortilla chips, regarded them, and licked his lips. Without a word to the clerk, he began to walk toward the automatic doors.
"I hope you are intending to pay for that, young man," said Apu firmly.
You don't remember seeing me take the chips, thought Alan, tucking the bag under his shirt.
A confused expression passed over Apu's face, followed quickly by a smile. "Thank you, come again," he said, waving at the departing boy.
The sedan slowed to a stop, and Fern heard the sound of a garage door closing. Moments later the trunk lid flew up, and she saw a familiar face smiling upon her.
"How are you doing in there?" asked a curly-haired cat girl in her early teens.
"April!" Fern blurted out. "What…what are you…"
"Relax," said April Murphy, sticking out a hand for her to take. "You'll understand soon."
As she allowed April to gently pull her out of the trunk, she recalled the suspicions she had once harbored about the older girl. A duplicate of Sue Ellen from several years in the future, she had jumped through time to assist the sorceress Augusta Winslow in a risky scheme that would supposedly prevent the murder of her parents. Whether she had succeeded at this or not, or whether her parents were ever in real danger, depended on whom one asked. It was all quite confusing.
"I was perfectly willing to help Frink with his experiment," said Fern as April led her through a door into a somewhat messy kitchen. "You didn't have to go through this rigamarole."
"Yes, we did," said April curtly.
In the living room sat five individuals who seemed very pleased to see Fern. They included Professor Frink, Alan's old classmate C.V. Oberlin, a teenaged bear girl who wore a barrette over her short brown hair, a black-haired bulldog girl, a poodle boy, and an orange-haired rabbit girl. Fern winced, remembering the terror C.V. had once brought to Lakewood Elementary with his fear-inducing powers.
"Sit down, Fern," said Frink, and the poodle girl took advantage of a rocking chair. "I'd like you to meet the Brainchildren. This is Tegan Powers, who can merge telepathically with other people, and plant memories in their minds."
Fern's mouth fell open. "You're…Alan's sister?"
Tegan nodded.
"This is Claire Dieudonné, a telekinetic," said Frink, gesturing at the rabbit girl. "Victor Talbot," he added, waving his hand at the poodle boy, "who possesses hyper-enhanced senses. Iris Hatch, a telepath. And you already know C.V."
"What's this all about?" Fern asked him.
"It's about my brother Alan," Tegan answered for the scientist. "He also has special powers—the ability to erase memories. His place is with us, but he hasn't accepted that yet. We need your help to find him."
Fern scowled incredulously. "First of all, I have no idea where he is. Second, I don't know why you need my help if you all have super powers. Third, I'm late for gym class. Can I go now?"
Tegan rose to her feet. "Don't be afraid," she said while stepping toward Fern and raising one hand to her barrette. "What I'm about to do to you, Alan can easily reverse—provided that he cooperates."
Fern gazed into the girl's determined eyes. The barrette slid halfway down Tegan's scalp, and the barrier between her mind and Fern's began to dissolve…
Your daughter will be well cared for at Ballford Prep. We have excellent teachers, a cafeteria with a diverse selection of ethnic foods…
I love Tegan as much as I love life itself, but her gift has to be kept a secret, no matter what the cost…
Hello, Professor Frink. My name is Tegan. I love having visitors, since I don't get out much…
Yes, I'm a jewel thief…I'm guilty of many crimes. But what about the criminals who are holding you prisoner? Why do they go unpunished?...
Three minutes passed. The swirling confusion in Fern's mind gave way to placid acceptance.
Tegan pushed her barrette to the top of her head. "How do you feel?" she asked the poodle girl.
Fern's lips spread into a smile. She looked down at her hands, then reached up and touched her hair, her ears, her nose.
"The transfer was a success," she said in a satisfied tone. "Alan won't escape us now."
to be continued