Agent Brand interrupted. “Actually, it was a major blunder.”

Ms. Holiday bit her lip. “That is not helpful,” she whispered.

“Gluestick has been trained by the best. He knows better than to race into the unknown,” Brand said, standing his ground.

“How are the others?” Duncan asked. “Are they OK?”

“They’ve already gone through the scans and the results have been the same, Duncan,” the librarian replied.

“You don’t think Heathcliff’s found some way to. . . you know, hypnotize machines the way he can people and animals, do you?” Duncan asked.

“It’s our job to find out,” Brand said. “When will the team be ready?”

“Three days,” Benjamin said.

“Three days!” Brand cried. “Simon might control the world in three days!”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to remove all of the nanobytes in each of the operatives.”

“But Benjamin, we’ve taken the upgrades out of people before,” Ms. Holiday said.

“Last year we took them out of Jackson and put them back in a couple days later,” Duncan reminded them. “It didn’t take three days for him to be back online.”

“Jackson’s nanobytes were receptive to my commands,” Benjamin explained. “I asked them to leave and then asked them to return. The nanobytes in your body aren’t listening. I’m going to have to hunt them down, one by one, until they are all collected. If I were to leave even one behind, it could infect the new ones. I can, however, reinstall the nasal implants that link the team with me.”

Brand growled. “Get to work, Benjamin.” He stormed out of the room, leaving Ms. Holiday alone to look in on Duncan.

“OK, well, don’t worry, Gluestick,” Ms. Holiday said. “Just relax and we’ll have you back to fighting shape in no time.”

It took all Duncan’s strength to smile back. Inside he was feeling embarrassed, depressed, and foolish.

Duncan spent much of the day lying on a table inside the upgrade room having his nanobytes removed. He hadn’t really noticed before, but he could feel them inside him. It was a subtle sensation, and not unpleasant, but as more and more of them were extracted, he felt more and more empty.

“While we are here, perhaps you would like to give me some information about your odd attacker,” Benjamin said. “Perhaps we can put together a sketch from your details.”

“Well, he was about five seven, maybe five eight, though his boots might have given him an inch or two.”

Benjamin began to spin, and a million particles of light filled the room. Suddenly, there was a stick figure as tall as a man standing before him.

“Anything else?”

“He had kind of let himself go,” Duncan said, pulling his T-shirt down over his own exposed belly. “He probably weighed three hundred pounds.”

Suddenly the stick figure expanded into the shape of an obese man.

“Any facial features?”

“I didn’t see much,” Duncan said. “He was wearing a black mask that covered his face and hair. Oh, yeah. He had red eyebrows. He must be a redhead.”

The stick figure grew red hair. Then a black mask was placed over its face, showing only the eyes.

“Eye color?”

“I don’t know,” Duncan said. “It happened so fast.”

“We have some security footage, but we never got a shot of his face. Let me see if I can combine your description with what the cameras captured,” Benjamin said. Suddenly, the round stick figure had hands and fingers. His costume was black and green, with a cape and a cursor symbol on the chest. Benjamin added boots and gloves and a belt buckle, but the face was not there.

“It’s not a lot.” Duncan sighed.

“Let me know if you remember anything else,” the orb chirped. “I’ll send this to Mr. Brand. As for your nanobytes, I think we’re through for the day. Go home and get some rest.”

Duncan exited through the lockers and walked down the school halls as students spilled out of classrooms, headed for their buses. He felt small and weak. When he was full of superpower, he had strolled along without a care. Sure, a school bully might confront him, but he had always taken this in stride. After all, he was an international spy. He traveled the world. He could stick to walls. His double life had always been the great equalizer. No matter how many wedgies he received, he could smile with the knowledge that he was special. Now he was average. . . again.

Flinch met him outside. They decided to skip the bus ride and walk home.

“This must be very hard on you,” Duncan said to his friend. “Your upgrades not only give you abilities, they help control your hyperactivity.”

Flinch looked visibly shaky. “Benjamin said that I should stay away from candy and soda until I’m back online. You have no idea how hard it is not to stuff my face with graham crackers right now.”

“I’m sorry. It was my fault we got zapped,” Duncan said.

“You’re being crazy, D. You can’t blame yourself because you were surprised. We all thought we’d find Simon, not some giant tub of a dude having a midlife crisis with a ray gun. You did exactly what I would have done. Plus, you bought us a three-day vacation. It’ll give Jackson a chance to catch up on his reports.”

“Three days of being regular,” Duncan said. The thought gave him the jitters.

“I know how I can cheer you up,” Flinch said. “You can invite me over for dinner. I am an amazing dinner guest and I know how much the Creature likes me.”

Duncan wanted to laugh, but his dismal mood hung over him like a rain cloud.

Dinner at Duncan’s house was always a noisy affair. His family enjoyed discussing their days, usually all at once. There was a genuine excitement about being together. Aiah told them about a family she was working with who was trying to get out of a homeless shelter. Avery talked and talked about the Aston Martin he had worked on that afternoon, and how exhilarating it was to take it for a test drive. “I felt like a spy,” he said, smiling at his son. The Creature complained about teachers, boys, girls, her friends, her enemies, Duncan, her parents, and everyone else who crossed her path.

“And what about you two?” Aiah asked as she snatched the bag of peppermints out of Flinch’s hand and put another scoop of lima beans on his plate. “I know you can’t tell me everything, but did anything exciting happen today?”

Duncan and Flinch shared a look.

“Same old same old, Mrs. Dewey,” Flinch said. “Just another boring day at school.”

“Oh, I hate when you say that,” Aiah sighed. “It always makes me think something dangerous happened and you just aren’t allowed to talk about it.”

“I’m sure they both got wedgied and shoved into lockers,” the Creature said. “Same old story for members of the nerd herd.”

“Be nice, Tanisha,” Avery said.

“Relax, Dad,” the Creature said. “Flinch and dumb-dumb here have superpowers. I’m sure they can handle my insults.”

Duncan and Flinch shared another uncomfortable look.

After dinner, the boys insisted on loading the dishwasher. Duncan couldn’t wait to get his hands on the remote control. Pressing its buttons gave him comfort after such a depressing day. He typed in a code and soon a robotic arm was snatching dirty dishes off the dining room table, rinsing them, and inserting them into the slots of the dishwasher. Then it closed the door and the machine started its cleaning cycle.

Avery watched the action from the kitchen table. He was scanning the classified section of the newspaper for auto parts. He had been restoring a 1968 Ford Mustang convertible since before Duncan was born. It took up most of the garage. Besides a paint job, it was nearly complete. Avery wanted every part to be from the original make, and they weren’t easy to find. Some weekends he spent hours digging through the local junkyard for the finishing touches—rearview mirrors, factory hubcabs, and an original AM radio.