By the time Sue and Mr. Krantz reached Lakewood Elementary, the last period of the day was nearly over. The cat girl, looking sullen and embarrassed, slowly walked to her desk and sat down. Snickers could be heard here and there in the classroom. "I guess somebody didn't get the memo that school wasn't cancelled," Binky whispered to Arthur.

Sue felt an urge to glare lethally at everyone around her, but was too miserable to do so. If only those drones could understand what I've lost through my carelessness, she thought. If only they could understand what the billions of girls and women of my home planet, Yordil, have lost.

"In keeping with this year's theme of diversity awareness," said their replacement teacher, Mrs. Pike, "I'd like each of you to write a report on what you think your life would be like if you belonged to a different species. I've written the species assignments on the board. If you're an aardvark person, write about your life as a moose person. If you're a rabbit person, write about your life as a monkey person. If you're a…"

"Excuse me, Mrs. Pike," said Beat, raising her hand slowly due to the pain in her chest. "I'm half rabbit and half aardvark. What should I write about?"

The teacher (who, though she didn't like having it pointed out, was a duck person) thought for a moment and asked, "Which do you consider yourself, Beatrice?"

Beat responded with a blank, confused gaze, and the bell rang. The children, those from Mrs. Pike's class and those who had been transplanted from that of Mrs. Krantz, stood up politely and began to stuff their book bags.

A tall poodle boy, a stranger to Beat, strolled up to the girl's desk and asked eagerly, "Hey, Beatrice, can I sign your cast?"

"Why, certainly," said Beat with phony pleasantness. "But only write on the part you can see."

"But I can't see any of it," said the boy with a shrug.

Beat only grinned and nodded.

"I haven't been totally honest with you," said the tall boy. "When I asked to sign your cast, what I really wanted was to see your cast."

"I figured as much," said Beat darkly.

"So, how 'bout it?" said the boy. "Can I see your cast?"

"If I knew you," said Beat with a menacing stare, "I would kill you."

The boy wandered off with a petulant scowl, only to be replaced by George. "Hey, Beat, can I sign your cast?" the moose boy inquired.

Elsewhere, Miss Ratburn hurried away from her teaching duties to locate Mr. Haney, and his ever-present bodyguard Scrunchy, in the principal's office. Both cowed and intrigued by the man's immense body, the rat woman strained to come up with a subject for small talk. "Hello, Richard," she said nervously. "I was meaning to ask you…have you ever gone to the Fudge Festival on Mackinac Island?"

The bodyguard laid a finger on his rocklike chin. "No, but I hope to someday," he replied. "I don't get much opportunity for travel."

"It's not far at all," Rodentia assured him. "Like everything else in the United States, it's less than a half-day's drive from Elwood City."

"I should check it out," said Scrunchy. "Have you been there?"

"Oh, I go every year," said Miss Ratburn. "I especially love the Amaretto Chocolate Chip and the Rum Nut."

"Myself, I'm a Rocky Road man," the bodyguard boasted.

He even looks like a rocky road, Rodentia said to herself. "Every time I go, I end up gaining five pounds," she admitted. "And that weight never comes off."

"Really," said Scrunchy, examining the rat woman's slender figure. "How long ago were you a ghost?"

As they had the previous day, Alan and Tegan traveled from their schools directly to the hospital. On this occasion they hoped to obtain more information from the stricken Mansch, and to their relief, they found the man in a state of greater lucidity.

"Alan, Tegan," said Mansch weakly. "Welcome. Come in." He made a weak gesture with his arm, which, judging by the grimace on his face, required all his strength and endurance to perform.

"Hello, Ray," said Tegan cheerfully. "I sent you a get-well card. Scientific studies show that get-well cards work at least as well as prayer."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Tegan," said the cat man, his breathing labored. "However, I'm not the man you…"

"Enough lies," Alan cut in rudely. "I want the truth."

"You can't handle the truth," said Mansch. "In my state, I don't know if I can even handle telling you the truth."

"You were mind-wiped," said Alan. "There shouldn't be anything left of you."

"The mind of Raymond Mansch was destroyed, yes," the man began to explain. "But I am another mind, having taken up residence in his shell of a body."

"Another mind?" said Alan incredulously.

"But…who could do that?" Tegan wondered. "I mean, besides us, back when we had powers."

"Who are you?" Alan demanded.

Mansch smiled slightly. "As difficult as it may be for you to believe," he said with perfect calmness, "I am the Professor."

Having been consigned to her room immediately upon arriving home, Muffy lay helplessly on her bed, shoes still on, trying to entertain herself with the most recent issue of Mature Miss. As she was halfway through reading an article entitled The Sanitary Napkin Is Your Friend, her phone sounded. Laying the magazine on the second pillow (the one her head wasn't on), she reached for the cellular device on the end table. "Hello, Muffy Crosswire speaking."

A voice that sent shivers of fear racing up and down her back simply uttered, "Miss Crosswire."

This is it, she thought. Me, Mr. Gelt, and no one else. I've got to sound as mature as possible. I've got to prove to him that he's not dealing with a little girl, but with a little woman…a little woman with buns of steel!

"Miss Crosswire?" the voice said again. "Are you there?"

"Speak up," said Muffy defiantly. "I can't ignore you if I can't hear you."

There was a bit of silence on the line, followed by the declaration, "I want to meet with you."

He wants face time with The Muffler, she thought boldly. "Okay, Mr. Gelt, we'll meet," she said into the cell phone. "When, where, and why?"

"I want to negotiate a price for the dress," the old man answered. "If fifty thousand won't satisfy you, I'm willing to go a little higher."

"Talk to me," said Muffy. "I'm listening."

"You'll find me at the Muffin Man Café at five p.m.," said Gelt. "And no parents. Leave yours at home, and I'll leave mine at home."

"Agreed," said Muffy with aplomb. "Be seein' you."

Gelt hung up, and Muffy immediately started to dial the number of a friend.

"Hello?"

"Fern!" she cried desperately. "You gotta help me!"

to be continued