As Frink readied himself to leave with Sue and Mr. Krantz, his assistant Ling Tao hurried to their side, her black skirt waving in the breeze. "Where are you going, Plofessor?" the young Asian woman inquired.
The scientist responded with a forced grin. "It's…a family emergency, Ling," he explained. "There's no reason for you to get involved."
The teacher's aide looked back and forth between Frink, the cat girl, and the moose man. "This is your famiry?" she said incredulously.
"They're my in-laws," Frink told her. "It's complicated."
"One question before you go," said the girl with the ebony hair. "Suppose you're walking through the desert and you see a tortoise on its back, unable to turn over. Would you help the tortoise, or not?"
"You know me, Ling," said Frink impatiently. "Of course I'd help. Now be a sweetie and finish the lecture for me, will you? That's a good girl, ga-hey."
Her expression one of uncertainty, Ling turned and strolled back to the campus grounds. "Now, then," Sue addressed the professor, "you were going to take us to Clive."
"He's being held at a top-secret facility," Frink told the girl, "with the guards and the guns and the barbed wire and the clearance level needed to get inside, which even I don't have."
"Just take us there," said Sue. "Leave the getting-in part to me."
Recess was in session at Lakewood, and most of the kids were happy to see Mr. Haney patrolling the playground—especially Prunella, who followed him about constantly, her gaze transfixed on his back. The tall, silent hulk known as Scrunchy eyed her warily, as if concerned she was trying to usurp his position. "Excuse me," said the principal after roughly five minutes of this. "Do you want something, Miss Prufrock?"
The rat girl shook her head. "I'm just glad to see you alive," she gushed. "If you were dead, I'd be a murderer."
"Now, now," said Haney comfortingly. "Nobody blames you for what you did when the aliens controlled your mind."
"I do," said Prunella gloomily. "With this alien chip in my head, I'm a time bomb waiting to explode. Anyone with the right equipment can turn me into a killing machine."
"That's not your fault," said the principal. "Besides, the people with the equipment are all behind bars now."
"Are they really?" said Prunella. "Because when that creepy scientist came to visit, I lost my memory of the whole day. For all I know, he could've opened up my brain and taken a look."
Nearby, on a bench next to the jungle gym, Muffy was dividing her attention between the history book in her hands, and the feelings of dread that plagued her. My whole family could die because of me, she thought. How will my friends go on after I'm dead? When Gelt's mass-produced space dresses hit the stores, how many of them will buy one? I know I can trust Fern not to, and Francine doesn't even like to wear dresses…but what about Sue, and Beat, and Prunella? I can imagine them now, giggling and showing off their new space dresses to each other, and saying, "Muffy who?" Some friends they turned out to be!
Her cell phone beeped, and she raced to answer it. "Hello?"
"Great news, Muffin," uttered her father's voice. "Mr. Gelt has made a cash offer for the dress!"
Muffy felt as if the weight of a child-sized pine coffin had been lifted from her shoulders. "That's awesome, Daddy," she said gratefully. "How much?"
"Fifty grand," was Mr. Crosswire's reply.
Muffy began to sputter. "Fifty grand? That's…er, let's see…a tenth of what I asked!"
"That's true," said the voice on the phone, "but I think you should take it, if only to get him off our backs and out of our lives."
The monkey girl fiddled with her braid as she pondered her father's statement. I'm not sure if fifty thousand will be enough to cover Mavis' operation, she thought. Not only that, but…
"How do I know," she asked, "that you won't use all the money for your car business?"
There was a pause on the line. "I'll pay for your friend's operation first," Crosswire spoke up. "Only what's left over will go to the business. You have my word."
I'm going to hate myself for saying this. "I don't know if I can still trust you, Dad," she said solemnly.
It was Mr. Crosswire's turn to sputter. "How…how can you not trust your own father?" he protested.
I sure have a knack for opening Pandora's Box, thought Muffy. "Tell Mr. Gelt that if he wants to buy the dress, he'll have to talk directly to me," she instructed her father.
"Listen to me," said Crosswire insistently. "It's not a good idea to make him angrier than he is already."
"And why not?" said Muffy, feeling confident. "You've seen it for yourself—he'd rather buy the dress fair and square than kill us for it, just like Mr. Coo…er, ah, Mr. Cutler said he would."
After another brief pause Crosswire continued, "You don't really have a choice, Muffy. Even if Gelt pays you for the dress, you can't write a check to the Cutlers without the co-signature of a parent."
Oh, yeah, thought Muffy with chagrin. That's why, when I maxed out my credit card and had to pay for Francine's makeover with a check, I had to get my mom to sign it. Hmm…I don't know how I'll weasel out of this one without some more legal advice…
At the end of a paved road that wound through the forest outside Springfield, stood the secret compound where, according to Professor Frink, the boy named Clive had been detained. The structure was simple and quaint—three long, narrow brick buildings connected by skyways, surrounded by unkempt lawns, and protected by a tall chain-link fence with razor wire lining the top. The appearance of the security guards was appropriately fearsome, each one clad in green fatigues and sporting both a pistol and an M-16 rifle. As Mr. Krantz's car pulled up to the entrance gate, Sue was astonished at how little fear she felt. Nothing can stop me now, she thought.
Both the moose man and the scientist rolled down their windows as the guards bent over to address them. "Clearance passes, please," said the grim-looking guard on Frink's side.
"We have all the clearance we need right here," said Sue, raising the orb in front of her face. "You're holding a boy named Clive Stewart. You will release him to us immediately."
"We will release him," said the uniformed man emotionlessly.
The guards and Mr. Krantz's car remained in their spots; Sue was certain, based on her experience with the sphere's power, that the workers in the compound were dutifully arranging for Clive to be set free. In the few minutes that passed before the boy emerged, she tormented herself with the question: Should I ask him to bring April back to life, or should I be content with having things back the way they were? What if this is the only chance I get?
The aardvark boy, wearing a dull gray uniform, walked steadily towards the stopped automobile in the company of two guards. "There he is," said Sue with elation. "They've been feeding him well, that's for sure."
"What do you want with him?" Frink asked the girl.
"You'll find out soon enough," was Sue's reply.
She lowered the back window as Clive drew closer. "Sue Ellen," said the astonished boy. "It's you."
"Hi, Clive," she said with a slight wave.
"I don't understand," said the boy with a blank face. "Are they just letting me go? And why are you here?"
"Clive," said Sue carefully, "do you remember how you changed reality so that my people, the Yordilians, failed to conquer Earth?"
He nodded. "Yes, I remember."
"Good," said Sue triumphantly. "Because you're going to reverse the change. Now."
To be continued