Frank Einstein and the EvoBlaster Belt, Page 3

So the squirrel never even hears its end coming.

  BAM!

  Owl talons rip through the grass, break the squirrel’s neck bones. Owl beak spears squirrel skull, rips apart squirrel flesh, swallows squirrel almost whole. The great horned owl looks left, right, and flies off into the woods.

  “Woooooowwwww,” says Janegoodall. She lowers her binoculars. “What a predator!”

  “It never even made a sound!” says Anna.

  “Let’s see if there are any old owl pellets,” says Janegoodall.

  The three Science Scouts walk over to the base of the big maple tree.

  “Now I am definitely going to upchuck my own lunch pellet,” answers Leslie. “Let’s get back to camp.”

  Janegoodall and Anna scour the ground for owl pellets. No luck.

  Janegoodall follows a faint path deeper into the woods. “Maybe over here.”

  “Come onnnnn, you guys. I’m hungry.”

  “OK, OK . . . whoaaa. Hey! What is this?”

  Janegoodall and Anna slip between the trees to check out a towering black woven-metal fence, almost invisible in the shifting light, but impossible to get over or around.

  Anna reads a small green sign.

  This only makes Anna more curious. “What could be in there?”

  Anna shakes the fence.

  Bbbbzzzzzzzzzz goes the ! Intruder Alert.

  Mr. Chimp puts away his giant rubber Bigfoot.

  Mr. Chimp checks his security cam. He sees three small figures in Section 33.3 shake the fence again.

  Bbbbzzzzzzzzzz!

  Mr. Chimp zooms in on the image. He sees three girls dressed in green uniforms.

  Mr. Chimp checks his security cam. He zooms in on Grampa Al.

  The ! Intruder Alert flashes again.

  Mr. Chimp holds his chin, taps one leathery chimp finger against his front tooth, and thinks.

  Mr. Chimp comes up with two more great Security Plans.

  Mr. Chimp selects two metal coat hangers from his Security Storeroom.

  Mr. Chimp hacks into Grampa Al’s phone and dials a Code Red.

  Mr. Chimp sits back. And smiles. Sort of.

  “You fellas sure you’ll be ok for one night without me?” asks Grampa Al.

  Frank looks up from the sketches and plans and parts and pieces on the camp table in front of him.

  He checks Watson, Klink, and Klank, who are already hard at work on their assignments.

  “Oh yeah. We’ve got plenty to do here.”

  “And we’ve got Klink and Klank to protect us,” adds Watson.

  Grampa Al climbs into his Fix It! shop truck and fires up the old vehicle.

  “I don’t like leaving you. But I got this Code Red call just now. And I’ve got to go. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Frank waves. “We won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

  “That’s what worries me,” says Grampa Al, with a smile. He puts the Fix It! shop truck in gear, and roars off down the dirt camp road.

  Watson shuffles through his pile of pictures and charts and diagrams. “What is all this, Einstein? And how is it going to help us get inside that Area 51?”

  Frank rubs his head with both hands.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking.”

  . . . writes Frank, with a piece of charcoal, on the side of the tent.

  “Klink! Projector, please.”

  Klink swivels his webcam eye around. “This better be for something good. And not a waste of my superior skills and talents.”

  Frank ignores Klink’s crabby comment. “How many different species of living things are there on Earth?”

  Klink’s glass head dome lights up. “Yes! Now this is my kind of question. Research! Information! Organization!”

  Klink hums for three seconds, searching his databases. He flips on his high-intensity projector and displays a chart on the side of the tent.

  “It is almost impossible to know how many species exist on Earth. But biologists estimate there are about ten million.”

  “Scientists organize all of these living things into five, and sometimes six, groups . . . called kingdoms. Animal kingdom. Plant kingdom. Fungi kingdom. Monera kingdom. Protist kingdom.”

  “Great,” says Frank.

  “Shall I explain the characteristics of each kingdom?”

  “Maybe later,” says Frank.

  “Awwwwwww.”

  “Watson! What did you find on how Earth got all these different species?”

  . . . writes Frank, on the tent, next to VARIETY OF LIFE.

  “Scientists have calculated that our planet Earth formed about 4.6 billion years ago,” says Watson.

  “The first signs of life, simple cells, have been found as fossils from 3.5 billion years ago.

  “Multicelled life, one billion years ago.

  “Fish, 500 million years ago.

  “Land plants, 475 million years ago.

  “Insects, 400 million years ago.

  “Reptiles and dinosaurs, 250 million years ago.”

  Klank interrupts, “Ooooh I love dinosaurs!”

  “Mammals, that we humans are part of, 200 million years ago,” Watson continues.

  “And then the line of our human ancestors.

  “Primates, 60 million years ago.

  “Great apes, 20 million years ago.

  “The genus Homo, meaning man, 2.5 million years ago.

  “Modern humans, Homo sapiens (wise man), only 200,000 years ago.”

  Klink projects Watson’s timeline on the tent:

  Watson studies the VARIETY OF LIFE chart and the EVOLUTION OF LIFE timeline . . . and scratches his head.

  “This is all pretty amazing. But how is it supposed to help us?”

  Frank Einstein nods. “Two more important pieces.”

  . . . writes Frank, on the tent.

  “In 1859, Charles Darwin wrote up his idea that all living things evolved from those first simple cells.”

  Klink flashes up an illustration of Charles Darwin.

  “Darwin figured out that evolution could happen by natural selection.”

  “Plants and animals changed over billions of years by small changes in individuals being passed down to their offspring.”

  “Like I changed my head that time I blew up.”

  Frank laughs. “Not like that. More like the dark moth on this tree. It survives because it’s colored like the tree.”

  “So?” says Watson.

  “So a white moth on the same tree is easily spotted—and more likely to get eaten. More dark moths survive. They have more offspring. They become a whole new species.”

  Watson still looks confused.

  “So how does all of this help us get inside Park Area 51?”

  . . . writes Frank, on the tent, next to the other three headings.

  “All things evolve and change from one form to another.

  “A cell can evolve into a plant.

  “A wormlike animal can evolve into a whale.

  “Humans evolved from monkey-type animals.”

  “Which explains a lot about you humans,” says Klink.

  Frank ignores Klink’s wisecrack. “And all of these crazy changes are made possible by DNA molecules inside every living thing!”

  A single cricket gives one chirp.

  “Uhhhh . . . great,” says Watson. “But I’m still not getting how this helps us invent anything to get us into Park Area 51.”

  Frank smiles. He explains what to him is perfectly obvious.

  “So nothing human can possibly get into Park Area 51. But what about something not human?”

  “Maybe . . .” says Watson.

  “Evolution takes a long time. All the DNA unzipping and reforming and natural selection takes millions and millions of years. But what if we could hop around the process? What if we could superspeed evolve and blast from one species to another?”

  Watson looks at all the diagrams about species, evolution, and DNA on the makeshift Wall of Science.

  “Ar
e you kidding?”

  Frank holds up the wrestling belt. “With a bit of wiring . . . and a few of Klink’s gadgets . . .”

  Watson looks at the crazy smile on Frank Einstein’s face.

  “You aren’t kidding. Well, count me out. This is too crazy. No testing for me. No way, ever.”

  Klank is still thinking about evolution. And dinosaurs.

  Klank asks, “Why did the dinosaur stand on the marshmallow?”

  “No!” says Klink. “No, no, no!”

  “So it wouldn’t sink in the hot chocolate!”

  “What?!”

  Klink’s head glows red.

  “No!”

  Klink’s circuits overheat.

  “Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  Klink’s headbulb explodes with a sad pffft!

  A smiling Mr. Chimp swings from branch to branch. He drops onto the roof of the Edison factory building. He opens the roof hatch, and climbs down the ladder to the Lounge.

  T. Edison sits in his Edison Lounge Chair, eating Cheezy Puffs, looking out over the factory line, and reading his Chicken Farmer magazine.

  “Where have you been, you lazy monkey? We’ve got work to do here! I don’t know why I even hired you. I have to do everything—inventing, building, dominating nature, and bending it to my will.”

  Mr. Chimp signs:

  T. Edison waves one hand. “Yes, yes, yes. I know—you are not a monkey. You are an ape. I don’t know why you are so sensitive about that. Who cares? Do I look like I care? Ask me if I care.”

  Mr. Chimp signs:

  “No kidding. It’s bad news what I have to put up with. It’s bad news I have to work so hard turning free water into bottles of profit. It’s bad news no one is as smart as me. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  T. Edison cranks a lever. The water bottle line speeds up.

  Mr. Chimp shows T. Edison a security cam photo on his phone.

  T. Edison chews another handful of Cheezy Puffs and leans forward.

  “Science Scouts? What are Science Scouts doing snooping around here? Scare them off!”

  Mr. Chimp nods.

  Mr. Chimp shows T. Edison another photo.

  “Old man hunting? Same thing. Scare him away!”

  Mr. Chimp zooms the camera in on the hunter’s face.

  “What? Oh no. Is that Grampa Einstein? The grandfather of that pest, Frank Einstein?”

  Mr. Chimp nods yes.

  “Get him out of here!”

  Mr. Chimp nods. Mr. Chimp clicks on a live webcam.

  T. Edison drops his bag of Cheezy Puffs.

  “Noooooooooooo! Two robots? And that Watson kid? Don’t tell me it’s . . . Frank Einstein out here too!”

  T. Edison stamps his foot on the bag of Cheezy Puffs, crushing the last of the “cheese-flavored cheese snacks” into a neon orange powder.

  “Unleash all our monster tricks! Freak them out! Get them out of there!”

  Mr. Chimp studies the webcam. He watches Frank Einstein and Watson and Klink and Klank working on something.

  Mr. Chimp nods to himself. He may be a chimp, but he is no fool. He’s already taken care of the old man. He will take care of the Science Scouts tonight. But he knows he will not be able to scare off a scientist/inventor/genius like Frank Einstein with just any old scare tactic.

  So Mr. Chimp comes up with a much better plan.

  T. Edison stamps his foot again.

  Mr. Chimp pulls his SECURITY hat back on, climbs up the ladder, and out the rooftop hatch.

  “So the two of them drive up to a deserted spot in the woods and park the car,” says Anna.

  The circle of summer Science Scouts moves a little closer to the campfire.

  Leslie’s eyes bug out. “Oh, that is not a good idea.”

  A great horned owl (in fact—the exact same great horned owl the scouts saw earlier in the day) hoots in the quiet dusk.

  “And then . . . just as the cute boy is about to turn off the car, the radio says: ‘Emergency bulletin. A dangerous killer has escaped. Lock your doors and windows.’”

  “Ohhhhhhh,” says Janegoodall.

  Anna leans in. “The girl hears this and she says, ‘We have to get out of here. Right now.’”

  “‘Yikes!’ says the boy. ‘The killer could be right outside.’”

  “‘And one more thing,’ says the radio. ‘The escaped killer has a hook for a hand.’”

  “Eeeeeeeeeee!” Leslie squeaks. “Get out of there!”

  It’s a warm night. But everyone moves closer to the fire.

  “‘Let’s get out of here,’ says the boy. ‘But before we go, let’s at least kiss once.’”

  “No no no!” says Leslie. “Get out of there now!”

  “The girl really does want to kiss the boy, but she is worried about the killer. So she says, ‘OK, one kiss. Then let’s roll up the windows and get out of here.’”

  “They kiss. They roll up the windows. And they drive off.”

  Leslie uncovers her eyes. “Are they OK? No one got killed? Or hooked? Phew.”

  Anna looks around the fire. She lowers her voice. “The boy drives them back down into town. He parks the car at her house. He gets out to open her door. And that’s when he sees it . . .”

  Anna pauses.

  “Sees what? What?!”

  “Trapped in the rolled-up window. Hanging there with bloody bits dripping from it. A hook!”

  Everyone screams.

  The great horned owl, startled by the sudden night-piercing noise, flies off.

  In the top branches of a pin oak tree, out of the reach of the flickering firelight, Mr. Chimp nods. He pulls out a wire coat hanger—and bends it in half to extend the hook.

  Klink folds away his electron microscope attachment. “All systems check.”

  Klank splits one last log with his ax-hand. “All firewood chopped.”

  Frank Einstein picks up the championship-wrestling belt. It has some interesting new additions—a compass, a corkscrew, a gold disk, a hyperspeed DNA splitter/rezipper, and the control buttons of Klank’s TV remote.

  “What in the world?” says Watson.

  Frank announces, “Laaaadieeeees and gentlemeeeeeennnnn! Frank Einstein Laboratories presents! Our newest! Our biggest! Our craziest invention yet!” Frank holds his invention overhead. “The EeeeeeeevoBlaster Belt!”

  Klank pushes a group of three keys on his keyboard all at once. The noise of a cheering crowd blasts out of his speaker: “Wooooo! Yeah! Allll right!”

  Klink swivels his eye on Klank, and shakes his glass head.

  “You do not even know what it does.”

  Klank thinks about this for a minute. “Well . . . no . . . But it sure looks cool!” Klank blasts another crowd cheer. “Wooooo! Yeah! Allll right!”

  Watson puts down his new fishing rod invention. “It does look very cool.”

  Frank slings the gold belt over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you what it does. This is going to be amazing.”

  “I’m sure it will be amazing,” says Watson, nervously. “But remember—I am only watching. I am not testing any part of this craziness. I am safely working on my new Telescoping Fishing Rod.”

  Klank clomps, Klink rolls, and Watson walks down the campsite path after Frank.

  A flock of house sparrows (Passer domesticus) chatters in the bushes.

  Three blue jays (Cyanocitta cristata), startled by a small furry-something swinging through the trees, squawk their alarm call and burst into flight.

  Frank explains as they walk down the trail.

  “It’s called the EvoBlaster Belt because it will allow us to blast all around evolution—a process that takes millions of years—in seconds.”

  “That’s nuts,” says Watson.

  Frank kneels down at the edge of the meadow. He adjusts the EvoBlaster Belt controls.

  “No no no. It makes perfect sense. Remember Darwin’s original idea of All Connected Life? Darwin saw it like branches of a tree.”

  “Bu
t the more we learned about species, the bigger and more complicated the tree of life got.”

  “And now we know about so many millions of species in the whole history of the earth, that the tree of life has turned into a giganto Connected Circle of Life.”

  Dragonflies (Ephemera guttulata) flit in the gold evening light.

  Frank turns the Circle of Life compass needle on the EvoBlaster Belt.

  “So even at hyperspeed, it would take forever to go backward, then forward to switch species. It makes more sense to jump from spot to spot on the Circle of Life.”

  Watson laughs, thinking Frank is joking. “Oh yeah. That makes so much more sense.”

  Frank buckles the EvoBlaster Belt on his waist.

  “It’s like switching TV channels. But using DNA. You evolution-blast from one species to another. The tricky part is setting the compass to blast back to your original channel.”

  Frank spins the compass from Homo sapiens to Buteo jamaicensis, and back again.

  He taps two double-arrow-shaped buttons.

  “These fast-forward and reverse buttons send you in just one direction. For emergencies only.”

  “Oh yeah, of course,” says Watson, still laughing. “Like you could program yourself to change into the Bird Channel and back.”

  Frank grins. “Exactly! Now you’ve got it.”

  Watson doesn’t get it.

  Frank punches the EV0-PLAY button on the EvoBlaster Belt.

  The belt hums, the gold Circle of Life disk rotates, the compass spins. Frank Einstein’s DNA splits and reforms at hyperspeed. The human shape of Frank shimmers and wavers and suddenly pops into sharp focus as . . .

  Bam!

  . . . a full-grown Buteo jamaicensis (red-tailed hawk).

  The magnificent bird leaps into the air, flaps its four-foot wings, and quickly spirals up above the trees.

  Klink monitors the data from the EvoBlaster Belt and hums a robot smile.

  Klank claps his hands with enthusiastic loud metal crashes.