The School for the Insanely Gifted (8 page)

Chapter 13
A Man and His Monkeys

H
arkin maneuvered the Thunkmobile farther down into the valley, circling over a small herd of zebras. Nearby, a family of elephants was out for a morning stroll.

“In case anyone had any doubt,” Cynthia said, “we're most definitely in Africa.”

They certainly were. Two hundred feet over the ground, the car coasted over three hippos taking a swim in a small pond. Two giraffes, chewing leaves off a tree, glanced up as the Thunkmobile cruised by.

“This is like a game preserve,” Daphna said.

As if to prove her point, a group of monkeys swung onto the ground from a tree and began to wrestle in the dirt.

“Very cute,” Harkin said. “But we've got a problem, dudes. Lots of animals. No people.”

Harkin was right. The small car had already reached the far edge of the valley. A few hundred feet ahead stood the jagged side of the cliff. Up above was the raging snowstorm.

Daphna sighed. But then she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. At the far edge of the valley, a thin line of smoke was circling up from a copse of trees.

“Last I heard, zebras don't make fires,” she said.

The car skimmed the top of a grove of pine and palm trees so thick that Daphna couldn't see all the way to the ground. Then the forest stopped. One hundred feet down stood a small log home. The line of smoke was coming from its chimney.

“Bull's-eye!” Cynthia said.

“Hold on,” Harkin called. “I'm taking this sucker down.”

With some fancy maneuvering, he soon had the Thunkmobile safely on ground. Daphna was so eager to get out that she climbed over Cynthia and all but rolled out the door. Soon her friends had joined her on the fresh grass. Though they were surrounded on all sides by a raging snowstorm, the valley air was warm.

“Check out this air,” Cynthia said.

Daphna breathed deep.

“Sure beats mouthfuls of bus exhaust,” Harkin said.

A firm lump in the pit of Daphna's stomach grew bigger by the second. Yes, her mother's map had brought her to this strange place. And yes, there appeared to be a cabin. But how did they know the inhabitant was going to be friendly? Clearly, whoever resided there had chosen to live apart from known civilization. Would he or she appreciate sudden visitors? Probably not.

On the other hand, if a beautiful valley like this could exist on the side of a mountain that was nearly twenty thousand feet tall, who could say that her mother wasn't waiting for her inside? In fact, maybe that was why she hadn't come home? Perhaps she hadn't been able to scale the sharp cliffs, then hike through the snow to get back to civilization?

“Well.” Daphna tried to keep the eager hope out of her voice. “Should we go in?”

“We've come a bit too far to turn around without saying hello,” Cynthia said.

Daphna stood on the front step, facing the solid wood door.

“It's your party,” Harkin told Daphna. “Go for it.”

He stepped back, leaving Daphna alone with the door and a bad case of nerves. There were so many things that could go wrong and so few that could go right. Besides, what were the odds that her mother or Billy B. Brilliant actually lived there? Just as her nerve was deserting her altogether, Daphna felt Cynthia's hand on her shoulder. She drew in a deep, steadying breath. Before she could stop herself, she knocked. For a moment, she was silent, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. But all she heard was the distant chatter of monkeys on the other side of the trees.

“How can no one be home?” Daphna said.

It seemed cruel to travel all that way and have the one human occupant of the valley be out.

“Wait a second,” Harkin said. “The door's gotta be open, right? Why not walk in and get comfortable?”

Before Daphna could answer, Cynthia was staring toward the woods, mouth agape.

“What the . . . ?”

Daphna and Harkin turned and peered into the thick pines and palms. About one hundred feet away a shape of some sort was moving toward them. At first, Daphna believed it might be a herd of elephants—a frightening thought. When she looked more carefully, she didn't know whether to laugh or be even more scared. Bounding their way through the forest was a swarm of monkeys—a good forty of them.

“They eat bananas, not people, right?” Daphna asked.

“Last I heard,” Harkin said.

The monkeys burst into the yard. Pounding their chests and yelping, they moved in on the children, pinning them against the front door of the house.

“Sing them part of your one-woman
Macbeth
,” Harkin yelled to Cynthia. “Maybe they'll run away.”

“Funny,” she replied. “I was thinking you should recite your poem.”

They were trying to keep it light, but Daphna could hear the fear in their voices. What did these monkeys want? To play? Or were they dangerous?

Once she and her friends were pinned against the door with no escape in sight, the largest monkey of them all clapped twice. The others cackled wildly and stomped the ground with their feet. The large monkey clapped again. To Daphna's horror, the monkeys broke into three groups, one of which rushed forward arms outstretched, and lifted her over their heads. She was thrown into the air, only to be caught a second later by another group of monkeys that immediately tossed her to a third group. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Harkin and Cynthia were receiving the same treatment. They were being used as giant human balls in some sort of game. As Daphna and her friends kicked, clawed, and screamed, the monkeys merely passed them around more quickly.

Until a loud
crack
—almost like a gunshot—filled the air. A voice boomed:

“Enough funny business! Give them some room!”

Daphna fell to the earth on her stomach. Looking toward the voice through a maze of monkey legs and paws, she saw a man standing by the edge of the yard. He was medium height with a long reddish beard. His eyes were so intense, she could make out their color, hazel, from a distance. Along with a dirty flannel shirt and jeans, he wore boots that laced all the way up to his thighs. Most striking was what he held in his right hand: a giant whip.

“Go!” the man called to the monkeys.

The animals hesitated, looking longingly at the kids.

“I said, ‘Go!'” the man commanded.

When his whip thwacked the ground an inch from the leader, the monkeys scampered as one to the edge of the trees, leaving Daphna and her friends lying on the ground by the front door, frozen with fear. Thankfully, it seemed the man's wrath was saved for his monkeys. As soon as they were gone, his face softened.

“You'll have to excuse my friends,” the man said. “We're not used to visitors around here.”

Daphna looked at Harkin and Cynthia and nodded. They rose slowly to their feet, a little banged up and a bit embarrassed, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

“Sorry to drop in like this . . . ,” Daphna said. Her voice trailed off. What should she say? How could she explain everything that had led them to this moment? After a full day of travel, she couldn't come up with a single coherent sentence out of the million in her head.

What happened next didn't help. The man jerked up his powerful arm. The whip went
thwack!
against a low-hanging branch, and a single coconut dropped into his hands. He cracked it open on his knee and took a giant drink. Though Daphna found the sound of the whip terrifying, it dawned on her that if the man had wanted to harm them, he probably wouldn't have stopped for a snack first. Instead of ordering the monkeys to let them alone, he could've commanded them to hoist the children into the trees. He might have done anything.

As the man took a second drink from the coconut, she decided it was time to be brave.

“I'm Daphna,” she said. “These are my friends Cynthia and Harkin. You can call him Thunk if you want.”

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the picture.

“This is my mom,” she said. “And we think you might be one of the men with her.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Daphna felt ridiculous. She took another look at the burly, slightly overweight, messy, bearded man in front of her. How could he be one of the thin, handsome guys with her mother?

Daphna looked to her friends for support. She could tell that they were as skeptical as she was and turned back to the man to apologize. The man tossed the coconut into the woods and reached for the photo. When he looked back up, his eyes had taken on a misty glow. Daphna could have sworn that he was choked up.

“Heather Whispers is your mother?” he said.

“Yes. She is.”

He took a step closer. “How is she?”

Over the past two months, Daphna had been struck by how quickly her mood could shift. In a matter of seconds, the thrill of the man knowing her mother was replaced by the sadness of her disappearance.

“What's wrong?” the man asked. “She's not well?”

Daphna spilled the entire story, starting with her mother's crash and going through the appearance of the antelope man to the discovery of the map. By the time she finished, she was trying her best to choke back sobs but losing the battle. The man stepped closer, as if unsure whether to comfort her or not. Daphna looked at the ground, realizing that she had bared her soul to a complete stranger. It was humiliating. She swallowed back her tears.

“She's not here, is she?” Her voice trailed off.

The man shook his head. “I'm afraid not.”

Daphna's chest tightened. Just because she had been expecting the news didn't make it any easier to hear. She felt Cynthia's arm on her shoulder. Daphna took a moment to control her emotions.

“And the picture? Neither of these guys is you, are they?”

Daphna fully expected the answer to be another letdown in a string of disappointments. Instead, the man smiled, revealing a full set of surprisingly small but white teeth. “In younger, thinner, less hairy days, yes. That's me, sitting next to your mom.”

“You're Billy B. Brilliant?” Harkin asked.

At the mention of the name, the man's eyes registered the slightest trace of surprise. Then he pulled at his right sideburn and smiled again, this time as if he was bemused by an old memory. “Billy B. Brilliant!” he whispered. He shook his head in astonishment. “Nobody's called me that for years!” When he met Daphna's eyes again, he was smiling. “Forgive me, but I've been rude. You've had quite a trip. Come in! Come in!”

Chapter 14
Laptops in the Lab

M
y real name is Marcus Bean,” the man said, moving toward the cabin. “But you can call me Billy, if you'd like. Billy B. Brilliant was a silly name your mother came up with for me one night in college. I called her Cassandra P. McFuzz, just like it says on the picture.” Billy laughed—a warm, mellow chuckle—and pushed open the front door. “Sorry I haven't had time to straighten up. As I said, I don't get many visitors. And don't worry about my monkeys. I have a strict ‘no chimp' policy inside.”

Billy disappeared inside his house, leaving the door wide-open. Daphna expected the inside to resemble the outside, a charmingly old-fashioned cabin, where a fireplace was used for heat and to cook. In short, the perfect home for a messy guy with a beard and a whip. When Daphna stepped into the foyer, she couldn't believe her eyes. Before her was an enormous room. There was a quaint fireplace off in the corner, but the rest of the space resembled a modern laboratory. The room was filled with rows of computers—hundreds of them, laptops and desktops of all shapes and sizes and colors—blinking, whizzing, and whirring. Four giant monitors hung down from the ceiling in the center of the room. Wires, bolts, duct tape, discarded keyboards, and computer chips littered the floor. While the outside belonged to a quaint past, the inside belonged squarely to the future.

“Door!” Billy growled. “Shut, if you please!”

The door moved by itself and closed with a gentle click.

“Lights!” he barked.

Though Daphna didn't see any bulbs, the room grew instantly brighter.

“Whip!” he commanded.

A hook descended from the ceiling, grabbed his whip, and placed it in a sheath on the wall.

“Unreal,” Daphna said. Any remaining embarrassment for the way she had bared her soul outside vanished in the wake of the new wonders around her.

“Not bad,” Harkin said.

“I'll say,” Cynthia said. “You could make a killing doing special effects for Broadway shows.”

“Could be,” Billy said with a nod. “Now who's hungry? You all look half starved!” He wheeled around to face the far side of the room, where a giant computer monitor was now hissing out a plume of pink smoke. “Harrison! Lunch all around!”

A panel in the wall slid open, and a man in dress pants, white shirt, and bow tie walked gracefully into the room.

“Very good, sir,” Harrison said to Billy. “What would you like?”

“Oh, just whip us up something good,” Billy said. “For four people.”

The man bowed. “Very good. Lunch for four. Right away.”

It wasn't until Harrison was walking out of the room that Daphna noticed the neat row of staples on his neck and the bolt by his ear.

“Wait a second,” she began. “Is he . . . ?”

Harkin completed the thought.

“A
robot
?” he said.

“You built him?” Cynthia asked.

Billy shrugged. “Harrison is nothing. Only took me a few months to design.”

A laptop computer walked into the kitchen area on a pair of stilts. With a sharp
brrring!
its top opened and hands sprang out of its sides. With another
brrring!
a side panel opened from the wall, revealing a small kitchen complete with stove, oven, and refrigerator. Quick as lightning, the laptop began to prepare lunch.

“Meet my Cook-Top computer,” Billy said. Gone was the frightening man with the whip. Now that he was showing off his inventions, Billy's whole being took on a glow. He bounced from foot to foot like a little kid in a toy store. “I programmed him with every recipe known to man, from the ancient Greeks onward. He can make macaroni that tastes like mint-chip ice cream. His steak is so good, you'll think you're eating the world's most delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He's the best chef in the world, and he cooks for me every night. Get a load of this!”

Billy took a remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. From a host of unseen speakers, lively music filled the room.

“What?” Harkin asked. “A new sound system?”

“Much more than that, my dear Thunk,” Billy said.

He pressed another button on his remote. A corner door burst open and two laptops, also on stilts, barreled inside and ran to the center of the room. There they stopped, and arms shot out from their sides. The laptops exchanged a bow and proceeded to waltz around the room.

“Say hello to my Dance-Tops,” Billy said. “The world's first computer that can help you type a document, then teach you how to rumba.” He turned to the two computers, whirling around the room in perfect time to the music. “That's right,” Billy called to them. “One, two, three! One, two, three! Next week I'll program you to fox-trot.”

“Do they sing too?” Cynthia asked.

“Not these,” Billy said. “Let me show you my Opera-Tops.”

With the click of another button, two more laptops—these were larger—strutted into the room. At the count of three, their monitors began to blink and they launched into a stirring duet from
La Traviata
.

“Beautiful, no?” Billy asked. “But that's not all.”

It seemed that Billy had invented computers that could do anything. There was the Verse-Top, a computer programmed to turn any thought into an epic work of poetry worthy of Shakespeare or Keats. There was the Roller-Top, a laptop computer that could execute perfect triple-axel spins on roller skates. The list went on and on.

“Here's my Doc-Top,” Billy said. “It'll give you a complete physical, take out your tonsils, then serve you your favorite flavor ice cream.”

In the corner was an ordinary-looking laptop computer with a small balloon attached to the top.

“What's that?” Daphna asked.

“Balloon-Top,” Billy said. “The world's first laptop that converts into a giant hot-air balloon. Actually, the first time we tried it, the whole thing caught on fire and exploded. This is the second model.”

“Have you tested it yet?” Harkin asked.

“Haven't had time. But I'll get it up and running soon. Now look at Picasso-Top! This computer can paint you a masterpiece worthy of hanging at the Metropolitan Museum every time.”

As Billy reached to power up Picasso-Top, Harrison announced that the Cook-Top had finished preparing their meal. Lunch was served.

What a meal: salads, pastas, cheeses, sandwiches, and five kinds of cake for dessert. When they were done, Daphna and her friends were too stuffed to do anything but lean back in their chairs and bask in the glow of a truly extraordinary day. Only after her third dessert (a piece of seven-layer cake), did Daphna remember all the reasons she had made the journey. She pulled the picture back out of her pocket.

“See the other guy in this picture, Billy? Do you remember who he is?”

At that moment, Billy was admiring Harkin's wristwatch computer.

“No fooling?” Billy was saying to Harkin. “It's really capable of intercepting information from weather satellites?”

Harkin nodded. “And see this screen? A few nights ago I hacked into the Hubble Telescope. Look!”

Harkin pressed a button, and a small screen appeared on the wristwatch with a stunning picture of a distant star system. As Billy admired it, Daphna cleared her throat and held up the picture to Billy.

“Does this ring a bell?”

Billy remained focused on Harkin's wristwatch.

“That looks like a black hole, doesn't it?”

“I think so,” Harkin said. “A big one.”

Daphna looked at Cynthia, who stood to her full height and let fly with a piercing high C. Billy gasped, then tugged nervously on his beard.

“Boy, oh boy,” he said to Cynthia. “You have some pair of lungs.”

Cynthia shrugged. “It's a gift.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Daphna said. “But I need to know.” She held out the picture and pointed at the man behind her mother. “Do you know this man?”

“Let's see here,” Billy said, gathering himself. He held the picture up to his face and took a quick look. “Him?” He tossed the photo gently to the table. “That's Old Iggy.”

“Old
who
?” Harkin asked.

“Iggy Blatt,” Billy said. “Ignatious Peabody Blatt is his full name.”

Daphna took back the picture. There was no dyed goatee or sideburns. His eyetooth was not yet colored silver. But the resemblance was still striking. The man in the back was a younger, more relaxed version of the famous Blatt.

“My gosh,” Daphna said. “You and my mom went to college with Ignatious?”

Billy popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. “Sure. We were good friends once upon a time. Old Iggy. Always making himself crazy trying to invent new, wacky things. Why? Do you know him?”

It was an astounding question. Had Billy B. Brilliant
really
lived in this valley so long that he didn't know of the great Ignatious Peabody Blatt?

“Know him?” Daphna said. “He's the head of our school!”

“He's world famous!” Cynthia said.

“He's invented Peabody-Pitch,” Harkin said.

“The Hat-Top!”

“And Blatt-Global!”

“Wait a second,” Billy said, standing up. He paused, as if trying to work out the idea in his head. “Iggy Blatt is
famous
?”

Daphna nodded. “For about ten years.” She wrinkled her brow. “Don't you keep in contact at all with the outside world?”

Billy shook his head. “The mountain is so high, and the weather up above is so terrible, that internet or TV signals are difficult to pick up. I only hike out once or twice a year for supplies, and I never go to big cities. I'm pretty out-of-date—which is how I like it.”

“So you
really
know nothing about Ignatious Peabody Blatt?” Cynthia asked.

“Right,” Billy said. “Nothing. But something you said caught my ear. What's this Peabody-Pitch you mentioned?”

“It's this cool device that reads your mind and changes the music on your iPod as you think it,” Harkin said.

Billy nodded. “And this Hat-Top? Tell me about that.”

“It's a laptop computer that attaches to a hat,” Cynthia said. “The screen slides down in front of your face.”

“So you can be online while you walk down the street,” Daphna said.

“And you operate the mouse with your tongue,” Harkin said.

Billy chuckled softly to himself.

“What's so funny?” Daphna asked.

“That old devil,” Billy said.

“What?” Cynthia asked. “You know about these things?”

“Sure I do,” Billy said. He pounded the table with his fist. “I invented them.”

Daphna was stunned. Was it possible? Yes, Ignatious was a flamboyant man who hadn't come out with a new product in four years. But no one the world over denied his genius.

“Wait a second,” Harkin said. “You mean you invented the Hat-Top computer?”

“Back in college,” Billy said. “Freshman year. It was all in my notebooks.”

“And Peabody-Pitch?” Cynthia said.

Billy nodded. “Yep. Along with a global computer for looking into anyone's room.”

“That's Blatt-Global!” Daphna said. “So you're saying he stole them
all
from you?”

“Guess so,” Billy said.

“But how?” Cynthia asked.

“I imagine it was easy,” Billy said. He sat back down and began peeling an orange. “I dropped out of college senior year. I didn't want to face the ordinary job market where some big computer company would take my best ideas and use them just to make money. I wanted to be by myself and create. I also wanted to start from scratch. So I left my notebooks and all my sketches behind. I guess old Iggy found them.”

Billy seemed to find the whole thing amusing. By now he was leaning back in his chair, chuckling. But Daphna didn't know what to think or believe. If what Billy said was true, then Ignatious was a complete fraud. But how was that possible? Ignatious Peabody Blatt
was
the premier number-one computer genius in the world.

“If what you say is true,” Daphna said, “how can you let someone else take credit for your ideas?”

“Right,” Harkin said. “If you're telling the truth, you've got to come back to New York with us. Then we break the news to the press.”

Billy waved a hand and popped an orange slice into his mouth.

“You're nice to worry about me, but really, let Iggy keep the credit. Doesn't bother me a bit.”

“How can that not bother you?” Cynthia asked.

Billy shrugged. “I've never cared much for public attention or money. I just want to do what I do for my own enjoyment. That's why I searched for a place where I could create in peace. Took me a full year to find it too. I hiked, then I biked, then I hiked some more, and I haven't regretted a single minute.” He shook his head. “Iggy was always such a funny kid. Always wanting to be great. To be noticed. A waste of time, if you ask me. Life's too short.”

Daphna was stunned. She had never met anyone remotely like Billy B. Brilliant—a man who claimed not to care that a former classmate of his was making a fortune off his ideas. Could such a man really exist? Or was Billy B. Brilliant the one who was lying? Maybe he had his own reasons for discrediting Ignatious? Maybe that's why he dropped out of college and disappeared?

If Billy was telling the truth—if he really had invented all of Ignatious's products—maybe he could solve the clue left by the antelope man?

“This might sound weird.” She faced Billy. “Do you know anything about a Flex-Bed?”

If Daphna hoped that Billy would jump up and explain everything, she was soon disappointed.

“A Flex-Bed?” Billy said. “Never heard of it.”

He yawned so widely that with his shaggy beard he resembled a roaring lion.