The Octopus Effect (35 page)

“Um . . . what?” was the best Simon could think of to say.

“Oh, man. I'm you. I'm Simon Bloom. Simon Bloom from the future, to be exact.”

“Oh,” Simon said. “Thanks for clearing that up.” And then he passed out.

Simon was jarred awake by a strange, unpleasant buzzing. “What?” he shouted, sitting up with a jolt.

“Sorry to wake you,” the young man said. “I don't have much time. Don't worry, you'll have a chance to rest soon. Before things get really crazy.”

“You—” Simon stammered. “You said you're me!”

The young man gave a gentle smile. “I
am
you. I know it's hard to believe; trust me, I know
exactly
how you feel.” He frowned. “Though I could have sworn I was a little taller at that age. Hmmm. Maybe it's time you laid off the soda and started drinking milk, huh?”

Simon just stared. Then he remembered Sirabetta. “What about—?”

The young man (for the sake of easier narrating, I'll call him Future Simon) waved a hand casually. “Oh, don't worry about her. She's frozen in time now. It's a complicated trick; it'll take you a while to get the hang of it.”

“And what . . . ?”

“What do you do with her?” Future Simon said. “Ah, that's where things get sticky. First, take this.” He handed Simon a bottle of water and a breath mint. “It'll help get the taste of octopus ink out. Seriously—ugh.” Future Simon nodded as Simon swished fresh water around in his mouth and spat it out.

“Second, I want to compliment you; this was a tough day. A tough week. You've had to deal with a lot, and you did great. I'm proud of you, Simon.”

Simon nodded. “Thanks. But if you're really me, aren't you just complimenting yourself?”

“Hey, learn to take a kind word, okay? I guess I was uptight when I was you.”

“Uptight? Are you kidding me? This is the most bizarre thing I've ever seen!”

Future Simon shrugged. “Just you wait.” He glanced at his watch. “Not much time left; you did this by accident and have no idea how to keep the time passage open.”

“Can't you just . . . I don't know, come here—”

“Come here on my own? Nah, it doesn't work like that.”

“But why? If you're the future me . . . you
must
know how to do this per—”

“Perfectly?”

“Could you stop finishing my sentences for me? It's annoying.”

Future Simon smiled. “Sorry; I just remember this all so well. My Future-me did that, and it bugged me, too, but we're running out of time and you're too frazzled to make good use of it.”

“Okay,” Simon said. “So why can't you come back?”

“Time travel isn't easy to do, but it might also be dangerous. We're not exactly sure if changing the past can mess up the future, but why risk it? It's better for you to handle it; move forward, not look back.”

“Is this really the time to sound like a fortune cookie? Fine. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Just listen for a few minutes. You did great here. Don't worry about the woods.” He looked around and whistled. “Though . . . wow. Nice mess. It'll be fine; the woods will fix itself. Eventually.”

Simon nodded, relieved. The destruction around him was awful.

“When I disappear, my time-stop on Sirabetta will wear off, and you'll have to take over; a simple thump on the head from a gravity-arm will do the trick. After that, it'll be harder to keep control of her; she's a feisty one.”

“No kidding.”

“But as long as her tattoos are covered, she can't use 'em. The ink'll work in a pinch, but there are better methods. And as long as you're within about eight feet or so of her, she'll stop shifting back and forth between old and young. She'll stay thirteen. I'm warning you, she's not going to be happy about this.” He chuckled. “She's going to be a handful.”

“Wait,” Simon said, rising to sitting position. “Why am
I
going to have to take care of her? I'm just going to turn her over to the Council and then to the Board, right?”

Future Simon shook his head. “Sorry, pal. That's the most important thing I have to tell you. All those renegades you've fought . . . they're nothing. They're pawns. Even Sirabetta has no idea what she's really involved in. The Board of Administration is the true danger.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They're behind everything. Not all of them, but enough that they're a real threat to the whole Union. The whole universe. But especially you, right now. You have to take care of Sirabetta on your own. Well, you and your friends, of course.”

“What? Why? How?”

“Think about it,” Future Simon said. “Where did Sirabetta go after Bio to get work on her tattoos done?”

“Greygor said Chemistry, to see a mad scientist Order member named LaCurru.”

Future Simon nodded. “So what should you do to get rid of those tattoos?”

“If it's up to us, not the Board . . . I guess I'd take her to Chemistry, have their Keeper—Olvero, I think—help us find LaCurru or some other way to remove them.”

“There you go,” Future Simon said. “It won't be easy.” He looked away, his face and shoulders sagging. “But be strong. The fate of the universe is on your shoulders and all that.” He shivered. “The burden gets heavy at times, but we can handle it.”

“Wait!” Simon yelped. “What is this about the Board? I thought they were the good guys. The ones who kept this all together!”

“I—” Future Simon shook his head. “I can't tell you about that. You'll have to find out on your own.”

“But why? I need all the help I can get, and you know everything about this!”

Future Simon looked miserable as he shook his head. “Sorry, but my Future-me never told me when I was you, that is, your age. Understand?”

“Nobody could understand that!” Simon moaned.

Future Simon chuckled. “I remember saying that. So funny.” He held up a hand. “And I remember getting mad at Future-me for laughing at something so serious. But it's like I said before: we can't risk ruining the future by changing the past. We're pretty sure that you can't, thanks to something called a causality loop. Interfering in the past only causes the proper future to happen.”

Simon shook his head. “You must know I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“It's like all those Greek tragedies you'll get around to reading in school. An oracle tells someone that something bad's going to happen. The person changes their whole life to keep that bad thing from happening but, in trying to change it, actually causes it to happen.”

“But I'm not Greek!” Simon shouted.

Future Simon sighed. “Sorry, man. Can't do it.” He reached down and helped Simon to his feet. “Don't forget that,” he said, gesturing to the Book.

Simon mentally summoned the Book, and with Sirabetta no longer competing with him, it leaped right into his outstretched hand. He felt something odd through his mental connection with the Book.

“The Book's acting funny around you,” Simon said. “What's going on?”

Future Simon smiled. “That falls safely under the ‘can't tell-you' heading.”

“Great. So glad you stopped by. Is there
anything
else you can tell me?”

Future Simon looked up into the sky. “Hey, Greygor. Remember to plant your feet to fight the spins, okay, buddy?” He looked back at Simon. “As for you, keep a firm grip on the Book, and Sirabetta's BOA tattoo on her palm won't work. But don't let her touch it. And . . .” He shook his head. “Nope, I think that's all I can tell you.”

“Please, you've got to tell me more,” Simon said. “The fate of the universe is a lot for a twelve-year-old.”

“It is,” Future Simon said, “but you're no ordinary twelve-year-old. Look at what you've accomplished! You're the Keeper of the Order of Physics, you've stopped all sorts of villains, and you've mastered incredible abilities from Biology, too. You're using your abilities in ways that the other Keepers never dreamed of, and you're just getting started! You'll do fine, Simon.”

Simon paused and thought about what he said. He'd come so far in just a few days. Maybe he could handle this. But still . . . “Can you at least give me a better hint? A few small clues? Greygor broke the rules to help us out, and that turned out fine.”

Future Simon looked away. “You're really being a pain, did you know that? Fine. I guess I can tell you a couple of small things to help you out.”

Suddenly, the air around Future Simon started to distort. “Oh, right,” Future Simon said. “I just remembered—
this
is why my Future Simon never told
me
more. Sorry, Simon . . . and good luck!”

The air tore open again, making that awful ripping noise as Future Simon was sucked through the hole and off to his future existence.

Simon stared off after him and realized something; Future Simon had said he “
was
Keeper of the Order of Physics
then
” in the past tense. As if he wasn't anymore. What did that mean?

He remembered something else and whipped his head around toward Sirabetta as she suddenly found herself back in the normal timestream.

For her, no time had passed since she had wiped away some ink and was preparing to use another attack tattoo. She was thus shocked to find Simon gone from where he'd been and, instead, standing several feet away, holding the Book.

“What the—?” was all she managed to say before the dusty stink of space-time bending sent her into a coughing and sneezing fit.

Simon marshaled his energy and, as Future Simon suggested, formed a small gravity arm to conk Sirabetta on the head and knock her out. He then took a deep breath as a strong gust of the Breeze blew around him, filling him with renewed vigor. Soon he felt strong enough to wrap a gravity coil around Sirabetta and lift her up. Though she was still unconscious, her body kept shifting back and forth from thirteen to thirty-three every minute or so.

He made sure his gravity-grip was tight enough to keep her arms and legs pinned and to keep her wet suit from falling off. He made her body hover above him; luckily, the ink clinging to her face and arm was caught in the gravity field, keeping it from dripping. Simon kept her three feet above him and, as Future Simon had said, she stopped her age jumping and remained thirteen.

Great,
he thought.
Keeping a crazy supervillain within eight feet of me is going to suck. Not to mention her being a girl . . . going to the bathroom's going to be tricky.

With Sirabetta floating above him like a girl-shaped balloon, Simon rushed through the wreckage of Dunkerhook Woods in search of his friends. He was relieved to find them standing around the still-unconscious Krissantha, Preto, and Aleadra. Targa was focusing her adrenaline control on them, lowering their heart rates enough to keep them from reviving. Alysha was nearby, ready to zap them if they stirred, and the others were on full alert to back them up.

“You're all awake!” Simon shouted, running toward them. “You're okay!”

“‘Okay' is a relative term,” Flangelo said.

Indeed, as Simon got close enough he saw just how battered they all looked. Seeing Simon's face crinkle with concern, Alysha mustered a smile. “I'm bruised, I'm exhausted, and my clothes are a mess. But at least it's over.”

“About that,” Simon said, clearing his throat. “I've got some bad news.”