Gecko Gladiator (2 page)

“Danny!” hissed Josh. “You're breaking my back!” He was doubled up, supporting his brother's weight. His forehead was grinding against the damp red brick under their neighbor's windowsill. “Is she dead?!”

“It's hard to say,” muttered Danny. “I mean—she never looks all that healthy at the best of times, does she?”

“No—but she doesn't usually look like a corpse!” grunted Josh. “Is she moving?”

Danny got up onto his feet, treading carefully on each of his brother's shoulder blades, hanging on to Petty's rather rotten window frame. The top panes didn't have nets, so they'd be easier to see through.

“I can't hold you up any longer!” gurgled Josh, but he didn't have to. Three seconds later, there was a creak and a crack and a crash. Danny had fallen through the window.

“Gah!” remarked Josh, in surprise. He stood up and glanced all around,
guiltily. Had anybody seen his brother accidentally breaking and entering? No … there was nobody around. “Danny! Are you OK!” he whispered. He peered inside through the broken glass and wood. Below he could make out Danny, struggling out of a dusty, gray net curtain, spluttering.

“OK—I'm coming in!” Josh said, carefully climbing through. It was a good thing, really, that the wooden frame had been weak. Even if it meant that Petty's window had been smashed. If they'd broken down her front door, they would probably be skewered on the ends of poison-dipped spears by now. Or reduced to a heap of ash and charred bones or something. Petty had put some formidable defenses in place in her house recently. But amazingly, she had failed to secure the window.

Danny had escaped the dusty net curtain by the time Josh jumped down next to him—and he wasn't cut by broken glass. That was good news. On the other hand, Petty was still motionless on the sofa. That was not so good. They looked at each other, gulping.

From this angle, they could only see her gray mop of hair. It was hard to tell whether she was dead or alive. As he got closer, Danny could see one small patch of wrinkled cheek. He prodded it gingerly with one finger. “It's warm!” he said, with relief. And then he shrieked as Petty's hand suddenly swiped up and grabbed his wrist.

There was a moment of silence during which Petty eased herself up on one elbow and peered at him. “Hello, Danny,” she croaked. “Hello, Josh. What, exactly, are you doing in my front parlor?”

“We came to find out if you were still alive,” Danny said, panting with relief. “You haven't been answering the door for days, and we thought you might have died.”

“Oh really?” Petty raised an eyebrow behind her smeary spectacles.

“Well, you know … you are quite old,” Danny said.

“Danny!” Josh kicked his brother's ankle. “Don't be rude!”

“No—not a bit of it!” Petty said, sitting up properly now. “After all, I am ancient. It's a wonder
I can even walk, talk, or safely visit the toilet. My heart could pop. I could just keel over at any time. Just one loud noise or a funny smell, and it could be curtains for Old Granny Potts. Better not stand too close to me when you've got an attack of flatulence, Danny. You could take us both out.”

“So—why didn't you answer our calls? Our knocks? Our doorbell ringing?” asked Josh.

“I have had chicken pox,” Petty said. And now that they looked closely, they could see that she had a rash of rather nasty red pimples—many of them topped with a little yellow crust. “I've been dreadfully tired and sore. And I didn't feel like talking to anyone—or infecting anyone!”

Josh and Danny took a step back.

“Oh don't fret now!” Petty said. “I'm not infectious anymore. Once the spots get all scabby, you're past the point of infecting anyone.”

“Phew,” sighed Danny, sinking into a worn leather armchair. “We thought it was all over for the S.W.I.T.C.H. Project.”

“I'm touched by your concern,” Petty said. “But now that you're here, I might as well get out the chocolate cake. And then you can tell me about … this!” She dug in her pocket and held out something small, round, and shiny.

“Our marble!” breathed Josh. “Yes—and—well, you might want to look at these too.” He dug in his own pocket and withdrew a small black drawstring bag. In it were two marbles. One blue and one red. “These two are like the green one you've got there. They have a code in them and a hologram—just like your BUGSWITCH and REPTOSWITCH cubes.”

Petty stared at the marbles in Josh's palm as if she was desperately trying to remember something. After thirty seconds, she got unsteadily to her feet. “No—no good!” she snapped. “Until I have chocolate cake and a large mug of tea, not a single synapse is going to fire!”

“She means her brain isn't working,” muttered Josh to Danny, following Petty into the kitchen. “Sit down, Petty. We'll get it,” he said, feeling guilty because she really did look pretty bad. She was pale under the pox. He and Danny put the kettle on and got the cake out of a tin in the fridge. Petty sat at the table rolling the three coded marbles around in her hand.

Soon they were all munching cake covered with thick chocolate icing and gulping down hot brown tea between bites. Petty's color began to improve. The glimmer returned to her eyes as she continued to stare closely at the marbles.

“So,” she said, eventually. “Where did these come from?”

Josh and Danny looked at each other and then back at Petty. “We were hoping you could tell us,” Josh said. “They've been sent to
us
—by the Mystery Marble Sender. One at a time across the last three weeks or so. We thought maybe it was you.”

“Why on earth would it be
me?
” Petty asked.

“Well … because they've got a code in them. And a hologram,” explained Josh. “Just like in your S.W.I.T.C.H. cubes! We didn't think anybody else could make Serum Which Instigates Total Cellular Hijack.”

“And nobody else can!” agreed Petty. “I made these, yes—I told you! But I can't remember when. Or why. Or what for. Remember that nasty bag of bones Victor Crouch burnt out my memory after he tried to steal my S.W.I.T.C.H. Project work and claim it as his own! There are big echoing chambers of my brain with VACANT signs hung over them, thanks to my backstabbing former best friend.”

“Well … maybe Victor Crouch
did
manage to steal some of your formula after all—this bit,” Danny said.

“It looks like a S.W.I.T.C.H. code for mammals,” Josh said. “We had a look with my microscope. There's a bat shape in the blue one and a cat shape in the red one.”

“There's a wolf shape in the green one,” Petty said. “I started on insects with BUGSWITCH. Then rediscovered amphibians and reptiles after you helped me find the missing cubes containing the code to REPTOSWITCH. If I had been working in any kind of order, the next thing I would have created would certainly have been MAMMALSWITCH.” She smiled. “I really am fabulously good! Top-caliber genius!”

“But who sent these to us?” insisted Josh. “If it wasn't you.”

“Well, why would it be me, you twaddlehead?” Petty said. “Why would I exclude you from a brand-new, exciting S.W.I.T.C.H. phase? And then send you vital parts of it anonymously? You and Danny are my assistants. I need your help. And when the S.W.I.T.C.H. formulas are all finally perfected, you will join me on the world's stage as the assistants of the GREATEST GENIUS SCIENTIST IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND!!!” This last she said as an echoing shout, rising to her feet and raising her chocolatey hands as if she were already on a stage being cheered by
thousands of other, less clever scientists.

“She's so modest,” muttered Danny.

“Hmmm …” Petty sank back down onto her kitchen chair and cut herself a second slice of cake. “Did this Mystery Marble Sender include a note with the other marbles?”

“Yes—a note always comes first,” Josh said. “With a clue to find the next marble.” He put several bits of paper with spiky handwriting on them into Petty's hand. “So far we've found one marble in a barn owl's nest, one up in a light in the school hall, and one—last week—in a ruined sea fort.”

“Whoever it is,” Danny said, “they're spying on us and following us around. They even followed us on holiday!”

“Or they were following
me
,” Petty said, scanning the notes. “Remember I was at your holiday beach too. Far more likely, it's all about me…”

“Even though they were all addressed to us?” snorted Josh.

“That's just to throw me off the scent,” murmured Petty. “It's all about me.”

“So modest,” muttered Danny.

“I'm going to have to pack up my lab and go even sooner than I thought,” Petty said, slapping the notes down on the table. “First, the attempted break-in—now notes to you which are clearly meant for ME! It's getting more dangerous here by the minute!”

“But—where will you go?” asked Josh, appalled. “And … what about the rest of the
REPTOSWITCH project. You were going to S.W.I.T.C.H. us into snakes and—and—”