Science Fair (17 page)

“Yes,” admitted Toby.

“How did you evade the owl?”

“I used the Hel o Kitty mirror,” said Toby.

Sternabite nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he said.

“What would the owl have done?” said Toby. “If it had caught me, I mean.”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” said Sternabite.

Toby started to ask another question, but Sternabite held up his hand. “It was your locker, wasn’t it,” he said.

“What?”

“Where the firemen found the plasma.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Toby. “But I didn’t put it there.”

“Of course not,” said Sternabite. “You’d have no way to obtain plasma. I assume it also wasn’t you who returned the component list to me.”

“You got that back?” said Toby.

“Somebody slid it under the door to my store,” said Sternabite.

“Not me,” said Toby. “I took it to The Horn…to the principal. It disappeared from her office.”

“And why,” said Sternabite slowly, “did you steal that list and take it to the principal?”

“I wanted to show her that the ME kids were buying their science fair projects from…” Toby’s voice trailed off.

“From me,” said Sternabite.

Toby nodded. He could feel Sternabite’s gaze from behind the dark sunglasses. He tensed as a thought flashed through his mind:
He’s here to kill me.

“Calm down,” said Sternabite. “I’m not going to kil you.”

“Why
are
you here?” said Toby.

“Because something’s wrong,” said Sternabite. “Whoever gave the plans to these idiot rich kids is up to something, and he’s using me to accomplish it. And I don’t like being used.” Toby hesitated, then said, “You didn’t mind last year, and the year before that.”

“True,” said Sternabite. “In fact, I enjoyed messing with Hubble’s precious science fair, and that idiot Lance Swingle.”

“Idiot?” said Toby. “He made bil ions from TranScent, and he…”

“He stole that idea from me,” snapped Sternabite.

“What?” said Toby.

“Ten years ago,” said Sternabite, “he came into my store looking for help, with this vague notion of sending smel s over the Internet. But he was clueless about the science of it. It took me ten minutes to figure out the basic idea and another five to draw up a rough schematic. He paid me fifty dol ars for my time; said he was just doing it for fun. Then he went on to start his company and make his bil ions and claim al the credit. He’s never once mentioned my name.”

“So why don’t you sue him?”

Sternabite waved his hand. “I hate lawyers,” he said, “and I don’t need his money. I don’t
do
science for money. I do science because it
amuses
me. And it amuses me greatly that every year, the great Lance Swingle, when he gives his big award for first prize at his famous science fair, is giving it to a rich cheat—just like himself—for a project done by
me
.” Sternabite smiled at the thought. “That’s why I do the projects for those idiot rich kids.”

“Where do the project plans come from?” said Toby.

Sternabite’s smile faded. “That’s the troubling thing,” he said. “For the first few years, the ideas were mine. These kids would come in looking for help, and I’d whip something up that I knew would win. Then five years ago they started coming in with plans of their own. Some of the science was pretty sophisticated, actual y. I asked the rich kids where they got them, but they claimed not to know. That bothered me a little, but I assembled the projects, because I didn’t see why not, and to be honest I found them interesting. Until this year. This year, I found them disturbing.”

“So why did you make them?” said Toby.

Sternabite looked sheepish, or as sheepish as he knew how. “Because,” he said, “I didn’t see it at first. I had suspicions, but it wasn’t until late last night,
after
I gave the projects to the idiot rich kids, that I figured it out.” He stopped, shaking his head.

“Figured what out?” asked Toby.

“What he plans to do,” said Sternabite. “Whoever’s behind this…he’s clever, I’l give him that. Bril iant, actual y. He had obviously been testing his plan in the previous science fairs, seeing if he could use idiot rich kids’ insanely competitive parents to get classified technology, and then using me to assemble the projects. And it al worked.” Sternabite’s face reddened. “And now he’s ready to put his plan into effect, unless we stop him.”

“Why don’t you just tel the police?” said Toby.

“The police?” Sternabite snorted. “Let’s say they believed me, which I doubt they would. But say they do. Who are they going to arrest? Who put the projects together?”

“You,” said Toby.

“Right,” said Sternabite. “I’m the first person they’d arrest. No, no police.”

“But what…” Toby stopped at the sound of footsteps in the hal and another knock on the door. Sternabite put his hand on the iPhone, preparing to disappear.

“Time for lunch,” said Toby’s mom through the door. “I made beef tacos.”

“With actual beef?” said Toby.

“Don’t be sil y,” said his mom.

“Five minutes, okay?” said Toby.

“Five minutes,” said his mom, walking away.

Toby turned back to Sternabite. “So what do the projects—”

Sternabite interrupted. “No time. I need to show you how this works.” He began to untie his sneakers.

“How
what
works?” said Toby. “Why’re you taking off your shoes?”

“You need these,” said Sternabite, careful y pul ing what looked like a blue insole out of each shoe. He set these on the desk along with his bal cap. Then he pul ed an iPhone from his jacket pocket and set it inside the hat. Stepping closer, Toby could see that there were thin, transparent wire filaments connecting the insoles and the cap to the iPhone.

“Okay,” he said, pointing to the insoles. “You put these in your shoes. The switch is on the iPhone—it’s this magic-wand icon. You have to be careful with the fiber optics”—he pointed to the filaments—“because they break easily, and then you’re not invisible anymore. Of course, you’re not real y invisible anyway.”

“I’m not?” said Toby.

“Of course not,” said Sternabite, relacing his sneakers. “You’re stil there. This is just bending the light so it goes around you. You know how polarized sunglasses remove glare?

The glare’s stil there, but you don’t see it. This works on a similar principle. In fact, anyone wearing polarized sunglasses can see you. You need to remember that. I’m giving you two sets of the fiber optics, so you have a spare. You put the phone on your belt, and…”

“Waitwaitwait,” said Toby, holding up both hands. “Why are you giving me this thing?”

Sternabite looked at him for a moment, then said softly, “Because you’re the key to finding whoever’s behind this.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because he knows you know. And he’s at your school. He has to be. He put the projects in the kids’ lockers. He found out that you went to the principal. He stole the components list from the principal’s office and gave it back to me. Did you see anybody suspicious around when you went in to see her?”

“Yeah,” said Toby, thinking back. “A teacher, Mr. P. He’s also the one who supposedly found the plasma stuff leaking from my locker.”

“Then I would say he’s definitely a suspect,” said Sternabite. “Because whoever took the list from the principal’s office also put the plasma in your locker to frame you. But whoever he is, we’re going to need solid proof to get him. We need to force him to make a move. That’s your role. This guy sees you as a threat. As far as he knows you’re the only person who knows about the science fair. If you show up at the school again, causing trouble for him, he’l try to get rid of you again.”

“So…you want me to go back to school,” said Toby.

“Right,” said Sternabite. “You sneak in, invisible. Then you do something to draw this guy out.”

“Like what?”

“The science fair,” said Sternabite. “It’s being set up in the gym, right?”

Toby nodded.

“Okay, then that’s where he’l be,” said Sternabite. “He’l be watching the rich kids’ projects. I guarantee you. He can’t let anything happen to them. If he sees you poking around, he’l figure you’re going to sabotage them, and he’l have to show himself. So you go to school today, at the end of the day. The school wil be mostly empty, and you’l be invisible. You go into the gym and make sure everybody’s out of there. Then you make yourself visible, and you fool around with the projects I built. The next person you see—and you wil see him—is the guy behind al this.”

“Then what do I do?” said Toby.

“Then you cal me. Press the sunglasses icon on the iPhone. I’l be there in seconds.”

“How can you be there in seconds?”

“Trust me,” said Sternabite. “I’l be there. Plus, if you get scared, al you have to do is press the magic wand on the phone, and you’re invisible again.”

“So basical y,” said Toby, “you want to use me as bait.”

“Exactly,” said Sternabite.

Toby thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m already in way too much trouble.” Sternabite shifted closer, his sunglasses only inches from Toby’s face. “Trouble?” he said. “
Trouble?
You don’t have
any idea
what trouble is, kid. If we don’t stop this maniac’s plan

—if we let this science fair go ahead—this whole
country
wil be in trouble. The whole
world
. Do you understand?”

“No,” said Toby. “I don’t. What’s going to—”

Toby was again interrupted by his mom’s footsteps and sharp rapping on the door.

“Toby!” she said. “It’s past five minutes!”

“But…”

“Now.”

The footsteps receded. Sternabite rose quickly and opened Toby’s window.

“Wait,” said Toby.

But Sternabite was already climbing out. “Remember,” he said, “when he shows himself, press the sunglasses icon. And be careful not to break the fiber optics.” Before Toby could say anything else, Sternabite had lowered the window and was gone.

Toby’s laptop beeped. He’d forgotten his IM conversation with Micah, who had grown impatient and typed dozens of lines of question marks. Toby went to the keyboard and typed,
sorry got 2 go

r u ok?
typed Micah.

Toby hesitated, then typed:
u wd NOT blve

??
typed Micah.

Toby was about to answer when his mom shouted, “TOBY HARBINGER YOU COME TO LUNCH
RIGHT NOW
!”

“Coming!” he cal ed, opening his door and leaving a growing string of question marks on his laptop screen.

T
OBY WAS JITTERY DURING LUNCH
, barely chewing his food before he swalowed, which was probably the best way to eat tofu tacos anyway. Al he could think about was trying out Sternabite’s invisibility device. He pretended that he was chewing for a few minutes and then excused himself, leaving his mother to continue her work on the brussels sprouts facial cream.

Back in his room, Toby careful y clipped the iPhone to his belt. He then put a blue insole into each of his shoes and laced them up. Final y he put the bal cap on his head. He made sure that the fiber-optic filaments from each shoe and from the cap were attached to the coupler plugged into the iPhone.

He was ready.

Heart pounding, he stood in front of his closet-door mirror, held his breath, looked down, and touched the magic-wand icon on the phone. Then he looked up at the mirror.

He wasn’t there. He could see the opposite wal of his bedroom. He backed up, mesmerized, and stumbled on a footstool. The footstool moved in the mirror; the blanket came off the end of the bed as he reached out and grabbed it to break his fal . But there was no boy in the mirror. No Toby.

“Awesome!”
he said.

He looked down to turn the device off, but couldn’t see the iPhone. Couldn’t see his hand. Couldn’t see
anything
but the floor of his room. How could he push the magic wand on the phone if he couldn’t see the iPhone in the first place?

His throat tightened as he panicked.

Then he remembered: polarized sunglasses. He pul ed open his desk drawer—and
that
was weird, the drawer opening as if by itself—and found his shades. He put them on, and sure enough: he could see himself. And the iPhone. He made a mental note of where the wand icon was: the lower righthand corner of the screen.

He pressed the icon, and there he was. He slipped the sunglasses into his shirt pocket. He opened his door and cal ed, “Is it okay if I watch some TV?”

“Okay, honey,” his mother cal ed back. Toby preferred the massive television set in the basement, the one his parents watched al the Star Wars movies on. It had a big old comfy couch in front of it and surround sound. If Toby was lucky, his mom wouldn’t cal him upstairs until dinner was ready; he’d have time to get to school and back.

He opened the door to the basement and, without going through, shut it loudly. Then he tiptoed back to his bedroom, quietly closed his door, touched the magic wand on the iPhone, and sneaked out his bedroom window. As he closed the window, a car pul ed into the driveway next door; it was Mrs. Penin, their neighbor. She stopped no more than twenty feet from where Toby stood, and as she got out of the car she looked in Toby’s direction. He waved his arms at her—no reaction. Toby grinned an invisible grin.